Black as Night

Parade of Roses

The first snow was falling, nothing but a flurry that dusted the streets of the capital.

Among those streets gathered the masses watching as the casket of the mysterious yet beloved Princess Winter makes its way through the streets in a horse drawn carriage. The lid of the ebony box was dusted with red rose petals.

As the procession made its way through, people threw their red roses up the box in order to pay their respects.

Heading the Precession were the royal guards, wearing a solemn black. They looked strait ahead.

Behind the guards was the horse drawn carriage and Winter's ebony coffin.

Also behind the guards were members of the church administering the last rites as they moved through.

Finally were the royal family members and the corresponding gentry. There was a long line of people who followed the carriage. Leading them was the king on horseback. He simply looked ahead unfazed about the death of his daughter. Behind him was Morgan shrouded in black cloth and looking through the sheer cloth at the masses, following her closest was the Duke, also wearing black.

Then it was so on with the rest of the family and the 'family.'

Duchess Martha and her husband lead the group. She wore a black and simple dress, no make up. Only tears adorned her face. Little Raul walked only a step behind the train of her dress.

There was anger, there was grief but most of all there were rumours that even Princess Morgan couldn't stomp out.

The banners of Kingdom were half mast, fluttering in the frosty wind.

The procession continued along. It was silent except for the sound of crying and the howling of the wind.

"Much on a day like this, I lost my wife," The King whispered to the wind. "And now you take away my daughter."

Morgan bristled underneath her black shroud. Only a few days more of mourning and she would waste the old man and then use Duke Wendall as a scrapegoat.

Everything was perfect.

Almost.

"The Princess still lives!" A voice screamed from the crowds. Morgan halted her horse and tugged off her shroud. The masses encrypted into mourners and gasps.

"Down with the Witch! Long live Queen Winter!" One more person yelled.

"Seize them," Morgan growled at her guards but they were just as confused as the rest of the crowd. Instead they formed a protective circle around her.

"Long live Queen Winter!" It spread amongst the crowd like a fire. The spark had cause a furious wild fire that refused to die. Soon the crowds were chanting: "Long live Queen Winter!"

Morgan looked around at the people who dared to defy her.

"Father!" She snapped. "Do something!" She yelled over the noise, her anger rising.

"There is nothing I can do," he said, kicking his steed into a trot. "Cmon along, Morgan. We must bury your sister."

Morgan stood atop of her horse watching all she built suddenly come down. The fear in the people's hearts and her reputation of becoming Quenn. She didn't notice the black rose pendants of the people or the smirk on Martha's face or the fact that Wendall looked terrified. All she could think of how she was going to punish this Kingdom once she became the Queen.

She kicked her horse to and rode behind her father. Morgan felt as the thousands of stares of the citizens were stabbing into her. She bowed her head and seethed.

"You'll pay!" She growled quietly. "I am your rightful queen and to defy me is to bring upon my wrath. I swear it."

The wind picked up causing the citizens to scream louder and louder until it echoed in her head. She wanted to scream but with her father in the way, she couldn't even mutter a word. She had to play the part of a grieving sister.

This day was just like the day her mother died, the snow was falling and the citizens chanted her name until they no longer.