Crowned in Crimson Cinders

Chapter 38: The Great Tragedy

The carriage lurched, a subtle jostle on the ancient cobblestones, yet enough to pull me from the swirling anxieties that had consumed the ride. Beside me, Darian sat impassive, while Brock, across from us, seemed equally lost in thought. We exchanged fleeting glances, but the unspoken weight of the day hung heavy, stifling any attempt at conversation.

The streets, as expected, lay hushed and deserted, a somber tradition for a royal funeral. Doors and windows sealed, garlands of mourning flowers adorning every stoop. It was a ritual I'd heard of, a distant echo of history, never imagining I'd witness its grim reality for one of my own.

My gaze drifted to the carriage ahead, where Amora and Brylee sat. What could they possibly be discussing? A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. Brylee and Amora. It was a bizarre pairing. Amora, who reserved her sharpest insults, her coldest disdain, solely for me. With others, she adopted a veneer of pleasantness, almost charm. I forced my thoughts away from her, fixating instead on the carriage floor, its worn planks suddenly fascinating.

The carriage stopped and Brock immediately stood up, bending at his waist to not hit his head on the ceiling. The doors swung open and someone lowered the staircase from underneath.

"After you," Brock's voice cut through the silence, pulling me from my stupor. He gestured to the open carriage door, held wide by the driver. I took a steadying breath, ducking my head to clear the low frame, and stepped out. The driver, a man with a weathered face framed by white hair, offered a gloved hand, which I accepted with a faint smile. His black livery was crisp, immaculate.

I stepped onto the solemn blue carpet, its gold stripes mirroring our kingdom's colors. Once, they had symbolized vibrancy and hope. Now, they felt a mocking contrast to the oppressive gloom that clung to our rulers. I'd taken only a step or two when a ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. My first thought was that I was the cause, but a quick glance behind me revealed Darian emerging from our carriage. He seemed oblivious to the stir, or perhaps simply chose to ignore it. I turned forward again, my feet moving inexorably towards the church.

Guards stood sentinel along the carpet's edge, a human barrier against the silent throngs. The mourners, clad in shades of black and charcoal gray—some of the poorer citizens in their best, faded garments—stood with bowed heads, eyes fixed on the church.

We were the first to enter, taking our places in the front row. Mother and Father settled to the left of the aisle. Father, having exited first, claimed the outermost seat, followed by Mother, then Clifton, Tristain, then Sebastian. Amora took the last seat on that side, next to Sebastian. There were six chairs per side, so Brylee, Brock, Darian, and I occupied the row to the right.

Once we were all seated, the church began to fill. A hushed procession of footsteps was the only sound. No one spoke, no one met another's gaze, eyes fixed on the floor, on where they stepped.

Finally, I lifted my head. There it was. Breya's coffin. Its lid was closed, draped in a rich, blue-and-gold cloth emblazoned with the royal crest. To its right, a painted portrait of her rested on a stand, and flowers, a cascade of white and crimson, lay artfully arranged on the coffin and in front of her portrait.

The thought made me ponder. I didn't ever remember getting my portrait painted.

When every seat was taken, the ceremony began. Figures in flowing cloaks and gleaming golden necklaces stepped forward, their voices echoing through the vaulted space. They spoke of Breya's life, of a promise tragically cut short, of the bright future she would have brought to Atalar. I recognized few of them, yet they must have held significant roles in Breya's life to be chosen as speakers.

I wondered how little I knew about her life to not know anyone standing before me. These people had meant something to her, but to me, they were ordinary and held no significance.