Between our hands

Chapter 37: The Escape.

The day of the king’s funeral unfolded beneath a sky heavy with solemnity, filled with a silent sorrow that enveloped the palace. The atmosphere was laden with palpable gravity, every corner of the palace seeming to bend under the weight of the rituals and customs observed to honor the late monarch. Flags hung at half-mast, fluttering slowly in a barely perceptible breeze that seemed to share in the collective melancholy.

The palace, usually vibrant with luxury and life, was now plunged into deep silence. The corridors echoed with the soft footsteps of dignitaries, their respectful murmurs blending with the discreet clinking of ceremonial accessories. The once-splendid walls, adorned with bright decorations, were now draped in dark fabrics that emphasized the gravity of the occasion. White flower garlands lined the hallways, adding a touch of purity and reverence to the surroundings.

The members of the royal family, dressed in black as a sign of mourning, moved with a dignity marked by their grief. Their clothes, formal but not religious, reflected a subdued elegance, appropriate for the solemnity of the event while respecting their own cultural traditions. Their faces carried controlled sorrow, each movement measured to adhere to the strict protocols of the day. Handshakes and exchanges of condolences were carried out with ceremonial precision, every word carefully weighed so as not to break the sacred silence of the moment.

Maëlle, at the heart of this imposing ceremony, seemed almost to blend into the overall ambiance. She moved gracefully among the guests, exchanging glances with dignitaries and shaking hands with a grace that concealed her own pain. Her movements were fluid, though laden with an underlying weariness. Despite her efforts to maintain a professional façade, the sadness in her eyes was undeniable. Victor, ever at her side, offered his silent support. His compassionate gaze never left Maëlle, ready to assist her in each interaction, each exchange.

The palace guards, on high alert, patrolled every corner of the building with heightened vigilance. Their presence reinforced the impression of a strictly supervised ceremony. Among them was Samy, whose own gravity was heightened by the weight of the responsibilities he bore. His thoughts, split between the respect owed to the occasion and the bittersweet memories of the previous evening, gave him little respite to be with Maëlle.

The ceremony stretched on with a heavy slowness, each minute seeming to expand under the weight of collective grief. The sun slowly declined, casting long, melancholic shadows on the palace walls, adding an extra layer of sadness to the event. The rites of the ceremony strictly followed local customs: a silent procession, speeches filled with respect, and gestures of commemoration that testified to the significance of the occasion.

At one point, as the funeral procession moved toward the king’s final resting place, Maëlle found herself deep in thought. The atmosphere was charged with an almost palpable solemnity, and the sounds of the ceremony felt muffled, creating a sense of isolation in the midst of the crowd. As she walked beside Victor, she felt a familiar presence next to her. Samy, as a palace guard, was also marching in line with them. Their eyes briefly met, and in that exchanged glance, Maëlle found a discreet comfort. Samy offered her a reassuring smile, a simple but understanding gesture.

As they neared the commemoration site, the ceremony reached its climax. The guests took their seats, and the air was filled with respectful murmurs. Maëlle, while continuing to honor the protocols, felt a slight tension in her shoulders ease every time she caught Samy’s gaze. His eyes rested on her with such gentleness that she found small moments of respite in this overwhelming day.

By the end of the day, after long hours of ceremonies and formalities, a semblance of normalcy returned to the palace. The younger members of the family gathered for a moment of relaxation, seeking an escape from the heaviness of recent events. The evening was organized in Nahïa’s suite, where they decided to gather for a movie night, a collective attempt to lighten the atmosphere and regain a semblance of ease.