Grey Oaks

Chapter 3: The Funeral

The church rang with the voices of the choir, the mournful bells in the tower, and the somber murmurings of those in attendance at Princess Josephine's funeral.

The only color of clothing to be seen for kilometers was black. The spring sun shone brilliantly outside and an unseasonable warmth embraced the land enhancing the misery of those in mourning.

Adalina was all too aware of the beads of sweat on her back under her black dress, black hat, black veil, black gloves. Hell, even her shoes were black. The mourning process would last through the end of the month. Then she would no longer be expected to don the black clothing, though she would keep it up for a few weeks more if she followed the advice given to her.

Right at that moment, as she followed the funeral procession down the main street of Glynpwll, Adalina didn't think she would ever wear color again. Not on her back. Nor on her face.

Christina's hand gripped her own. Her little sister's gaze twittered all over the scene around them. The flashing cameras. The crowd gathered at the street's edge. The cavalry escorting them and the carriage carrying their cousin to her final resting place. The Gwynivalian flag draped over her coffin.

It had been five days since Josephine's death. Five days of state mourning. Five days of ceremony in government. Five days of halted parliament. And five days of agony.

In those five days, Adalina had to fight a battle she didn't expect to ever fight.

"Your Highness, I'm afraid with the current political climate, it would be inappropriate for certain individuals to attend the funeral. Let alone be allowed to walk in the procession." One of Josephine's old advisors had told her a few days prior to the funeral. They were in a meeting at the palace. Tea sat untouched on the table. Her aunt sat at the head of the room and her father was positioned close to her, shadowing her and learning everything he could as fast as he was allowed.

"If this is about the Viscount, I can assure you-" Adalina started.

The Queen cut her off, "You can assure of nothing. Your fiance cannot be in attendance. Not until we can be sure that England had nothing to do with this heinous attack."

Adalina stood sharply, knocking back her chair.

"You all were the ones pushing for my marriage to him! All of my life! And now when a front of unity is of the utmost importance, you intend to rip him away?!"

"Addy," Her father's voice was soft, "It is only one public event. A sensitive public event. We cannot afford any whisper of scandal during the funeral."

The new princess scoffed.

"If new evidence comes to light. Or, hell, even a capture of non-English perpetrators. Then we will extend this connection to England, and let Viscount Edward appear." Her father's voice was final. The Queen nodded her approval. And the matter was settled.

Tension stewed in the room at any mention of the list of attendees if Adalina was in the room until the day before the funeral. When news broke of an arrest.

Commissioner Bowry of Her Majesty's Royal Force had apparently been working tirelessly on the case. Finally, after nearly a week, on the Thursday after the bombing, the attackers had been found hiding in a section of government housing.

To everyone's horror and tempestuous relief, the attackers were most definitely not English. They were Gwynivalian, through and through. Their bloodlines ran Gwynivalian for generations back into their families.

The consequences of this revelation would be felt further at a later date. At the time, though, Adalina ran through the halls of the palace, flung open the conference room door, and declared her saved invitation would be sent out to the Viscount that very hour.