Elwanda

Chapter 31 - Long Live The King

Just like that, the year ended, and a new one began.

The rains lessened to light showers, presenting one of the loveliest springtime weathers yet. Strangers poured into the palace; dignitaries, representatives, and high Lords from far and wide, because it was the time when a historical event would take place.

After seventeen years, Rauloring would crown a King.

Preparations were palpable and obvious; from the bustling activities within the palace itself to the great noises from the main town of Aldbourne Foxmerrow. Even the weather seemed in a festive mood. Everywhere one turned, he met a cheerful face or a blast of mirthful music.

Elwanda spent so much time walking around that she barely had use for Helene, her horse. However, she made certain that the palomino was well cared for as it was the only thing she had left to remind her of the late Alodie.

Every morning, she would dress in casual clothes and venture into town to witness the buzz herself since she barely did anything other than while away alone inside her chambers. It became a therapeutic activity and helped clear her head. She acquainted with the people, relating with them as equals, and assisted wherever she could in decorating the square.

For hours, she would stay in the local market, laughing and chattering with traders and their children and listening to stories told from experience about faraway places.

She learned of smaller kingdoms scattered across the great West and North, whose Kings had traveled long distances to visit Rauloring for the ceremony; not only to celebrate the rise of a new ruler, but also to affiliate with him and gain his favor. Many of such small kingdoms were in great need of political allies, financial aid, or protection from external threats - all of which they could get from Rauloring. It did not come as a surprise that Rauloring was capable of such things as it was the greatest and wealthiest of the Old Kingdoms after Raegros.

Whilst conversations outside the palace walls were more lively, unending, marked with laughter, and random happenstances that could bring about wholesome joy, the inside could not wholly match local folk excitement.

To an extent it was mirthful, yes, but mostly because of the servants, who seemed the happiest about the coronation ceremony.

Seven days.

That was how long the celebrations would last.

Seven days to symbolise seventeen years of an empty throne.

Just as the people sold, Elwanda watched the palace buy. Foodstuffs and livestock flooded in, like grains of sand, to be turned into a great feast to last seven days.

Inside her chambers, she sat on a slender chair with both feet stuck inside a bowl of warm soapy water, recalling to her maidservants how she'd lost count of the number of pigs she saw being led into the slaughterhouse on her way back from town.

"So much noise!" She exclaimed, grimacing.

Her reaction drew laughter out of Fylve and Serine. Both girls had become something of very best friends to her.

"I overheard the butcher saying they could've gone for cows," Serine offered, wiping a bunch of manicure tools with a soft square material. "But that strange flu struck and plagued the entire cattle."

"Dry winds must've swept in from the East again and caused another endemic outbreak." Fylve suggested, dusting a powder puff against its case. "This isn't the first time cattle got sick."

"Is it abnormal?" Elwanda wondered.

"To an extent, my lady." Serine answered, coming to ease the former's legs out of the water. "It's usually the herdsman who are to blame."