Present day
"The King is dead." The crier called out as the men moved to place the notice of Father's death in front of the Palace gates. "Long live the King." We stood at the bay window, looking out to the crowds that had found their way to the Palace. The usual bubble, chatter of the crowds, it was gone. Everyone was silent, the only sound being the birds that flew above us or the odd car dragging itself along the concrete. It wasn't serene or peaceful; it was eerie.
"Eddie..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. Father was dead, gone. It was sudden and we'd all believed he had a few years left at least, but fate told us otherwise.
"I must attend to the funeral plans." Edward's voice was deprived of emotion, a vacant vacum of words that held little meaning. He turned away from the window, meeting my look. Edward shook his head, avoiding any emotion.
"Eddie, please." I called after him, his footsteps increasing in speed as he heard me. I let out a sigh, angered by my brother's refusal to share in our grief. It was just us now; we were both unmarried and it seemed that I was now heir apparent. Thankfully, there was no ridiculous ceremony for that -- the same couldn't be said for Eddie's new position.
My thoughts were interrupted by my phone incessantly buzzing in my pocket. I couldn't ignore it; it could be important. I removed it from it's fabric encasing and looked to it, Josh's caller ID popping up. I hit the accept button and pressed it to my ear, waiting for some words, but there was just silence on both ends.
It took Josh, at least, ten seconds before he managed to croak out a few words. "Matilda, I am so sorry."
"Sorry?" I questioned, my tone likened to Edward's earlier. "You didn't kill him, Josh. You've got nothing to be sorry for."
Josh and I, after our fling, had become good friends. I had felt a little bit more for him for some time but, especially now, I couldn't find the right time to admit it. By this point, I was overwhelmed by grief and could barely think of my feelings for Josh -- whatever they were.
"Do you want me to come over?" He spoke softly. His voice was soothing, like a blanket on a winter's night. It encapsulated me from all the grief within the Palace and I was thankful for it.
"They're only allowing relations to visit at the moment." I paused, thinking it over. "Would you mind if I came over, Josh?" He took no time in answering, vocalising a 'yes' within seconds of my asking. "Half an hour. I need to escape this bloody place."
I hung up the phone and returned it to my pocket, taking a breath to myself and standing up just a little straighter as if to try and prepare myself for the upcoming days. Turning around, I marched up to Smithers with my arms crossed and my head high.
"I am going out, Smithers. Call the car round." My tone was stern, unaffected by the grief swirling around my head. Smithers gave me an unassuring look, shaking his head.
"We thinks it's best if you stay here, Your Highness." The volume of his words were a little lower than usual, a clear avoidance of causing a scene.
"I will not." I snapped. "The monarchy needs to function and continue despite the King's death and I feel this comes in the form of me going to a.. friend's."
"A certain Mr. Dylan's?" Smither's couldn't help but seem smug as I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment.
"Smithers." I snapped. "Bring the car round."
He sighed and nodded, knowing it would've been easier to just take me there than refuse; I could've easily called a taxi if he didn't oblige me - though it seemed a much longer route. I hurried down the corridors to the entrance of the Palace, the car waiting for me. I slid in and slammed the door, the car slowly dragging itself along the gravel.
