Caged Heart

Chapter 12

Princess Genevieve's funeral was to take place in the evening, and the entire kingdom was to be present. The courtyard was readied for such an occasion—everyone, including the royals, would be dressed in purple (the main color of Dahlia's kingdom) and they would all partake in the burning ceremony.

Such was the custom in Kingdom Dahlia that a royal who died was to have their body put on display, encased in a beautiful coffin covered with the kingdom's flower, and it was to be set on fire after the king—or the queen if it was the king who had died—gave his speech. So, Genevieve's body was presented in this way; her coffin open, her lifeless form covered in Dahlias, her pale face still radiating beauty even in death.

"You don't have to be present if you do not wish to be," King Darius said to his family before it was time to begin, "The people would understand."

Serenity shook her head, "We need to be there, father. For our people, for Genevieve, for you." She stepped close to him and took his hand in hers.

Her father smiled at her, tears already pricking his eyes. He gave her hand a squeeze and gave her a nod as a guard came in to inform them that it was time. King Darius was the first to walk, followed by Serenity, then Caleb and her mother, then Godric, and finally Emerson. As they walked out onto the balcony, Serenity's eyes surveyed the grounds—everyone from the three villages (Whither, Nuriam, and Jilith) was gathered around Genevieve's coffin. They all now looked up from her sister's frail body to her father. The royals all took their places—Queen Violette on the king's left, Caleb next to her, Serenity on his right, the king of Hallow and the prince of Vithe both behind her in the gaps as this was a family matter.

Everyone went quiet as King Darius held up a hand. He lowered it as he began to speak, "Princess Genevieve... my daughter, she was—she was such a kind soul. She had a good heart, and she had a free spirit. She had her faults like everyone else, but—she was young, and she had a very promising life ahead of her." King Darius struggled to hold back tears, his voice faltering at moments.

As her father spoke, Serenity could not hold the tears back. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing, but the tears rolling down her cheeks and falling onto her cheeks were a dead giveaway to her emotions. Her mother had no such restraint, as was expected—her daughter was dead. She openly wept at her husband's side, clinging to his arm with such a tight grip that Serenity was almost sure she would cut off circulation. Caleb's eyes were wet with tears, but he seemed to be the most adept at keeping them from falling. The epitome of strength, Serenity thought in admiration of her brother.

She knew he was torn up from losing Genevieve, more so than the rest of them were; he had lost his twin. They had such a bond no one could comprehend—unless it were another pair of twins—so the effect of her death could not be sympathized with; he was, in every term of the word, alone in his grief. They had lost a sister and a daughter, but he had lost something more.

Darius only spoke for a few moments more, as that's all he could manage. He waved his hand and torches were lit. Serenity felt the two males behind her step forward, each of them grabbing a hand. She knew why they were doing this; for as they did, Genevieve's coffin was set ablaze. All of them watched as their sister, their daughter, their twin, their friend, and their princess, was consumed by the flames.

They all now knew that this was truly real; Princess Genevieve Jewel Vixon of Dahlia was gone, forever.

The cries of Violette Vixon grew louder, unable to be muffled by King Darius who led his wife back inside the palace. Caleb watched the flame for a moment more, the fire being reflected in his eyes, a single tear falling now. His hands made fists at his sides as he turned to retreat into the palace as well. Serenity, Godric, and Emerson were the only royals on the balcony left. The princess was unable to tear her eyes away from the throne, thinking of everything that had taken place beforehand—she thought about how they got to this point. And not only was she thinking about that, she was also thinking about the conversation she'd had with her sister—the last conversation they'd had.

Her words rang in her ears as she leaned into Godric's side, squeezing his hand. Glancing over at Emerson as she let his hand go, her heart swelled with sorrow, and her eyes conveyed the want she felt that she could not have. The king's eyes flickered with hurt, but also with an understanding that she was glad to see; he knew what she did—that nothing, not even the conversation they'd had when he'd gotten her out of her room—would change the outcome of her and the prince of Vithe.

Emerson was inside before she and Godric were.

As she looked up at Godric on the way inside, she determined herself to love him. She already loved him, of course, but she strived to truly love him as she believed—as she felt—that she loved Emerson. She had to grow to love him one way or another and forget about the king of Hallow; they would surely be getting married in the days coming. It was their duty to do so, after all.