I had a few calm days with Josh after the friction-filled dinner, including the previous morning. While we weren't together 24/7, we saw just enough of each other to be happy while also keeping the other keen. I had engagements to attend to and Josh had pre-production prep for Blue Harvest to go to. We both had lives that didn't involve the other and it was, in a way, a serene way of keeping work and relationships separate.
Edward's private secretary Fitzgibbons, along with mine, Lane, were bickering over a date for the press release of Josh and I's relationship. It didn't seem right - to any of us - to suddenly announce my "courtship" on the day before the funeral. We had other plans for today, including my Father's interment at Westminster Abbey. He lay in state for a full day, though we only attended during the day. It would be naive to expect us to stand up, all night, in the Abbey the night before his funeral. I was alone for my time, standing by his casket while the general public paid their respects. It was so odd; they didn't know him. He was merely a figure to them, but a Father to me. Utterly different relationships.
I wore my black dress, my black hat, my black everything. I looked like some kind of 1990s American goth from the amount of black I wore, but thankfully, the small lace that hung down from my hat, covering my face, meant I could claim it wasn't me if someone brought the photos up. After all, I wouldn't be caught dead in this if it wasn't protocol.
Much like the dinner, the minutes passed by like hours. I stood still for the four hours I was there, my eyes flitting to each person's face, studying it. I couldn't understand their tears for him as, if he wasn't King, he would've just been another stranger in the crowd. Another dead man.
The sound of a soft pattering footsteps walking towards me drew me from my gloom, Edward coming into my sight. He, truly, was a sight for sore eyes. I curtseyed and smiled,
"Brother." I greeted him, knowing I couldn't hug him. Protocol dictated it was wrong to hug the monarch in public, though I couldn't understand why. He was my brother before he was King.
"Have you eaten? You're as pale as a ghost." Edward commented, standing next to me.
"Not since breakfast." I admitted. I could see him eyeing the casket, his hands quivering a little. "He'd be pleased with what you've done, Eddie."
"You think?" He chuckled. "He was very disapproving of me."
"He would be proud of you as King, Edward. You know that, deep down."
Edward gulped a little and nodded, smiling at me. It was clear from his expression that he hadn't taken my words on board."You need to go eat."
"Then I leave you in my spot, brother." I stated, looking to Smithers. I made my way towards him discreetly, trying not to interfere with the lines of people. Once Smithers had seen me he began walking away, knowing I would be following.
"Where to, Your Highness?" He asked, opening the car door as we came out onto the steps of Westminster. I paused, thinking it over.
"McDonalds. I am craving a chicken select meal." I told him, sliding into the car. As we left, I could see how far the line had gone. It curved around the Abbey at least twice, making it hard for the car to find its way out. It was only ten minutes before we pulled up in the drive through, Smithers practically screaming the order from the passenger seat in the front of the car.
"Is that all, Your Highness?" Smithers asked. I paused. I was tempted to get more and I lacked the necessary self restraint to stop myself.
"Get an ice cream, too. I need something to cool me down." I responded. Smithers proceeded to, again, scream the order down at the machine. The car moved forward and Smithers let out a loud huff, arguing with the cashier. He groaned and the driver drove forward once more, parking up in the car park next to the McDonalds. He turned back to me and began to speak,
