The Selection

chapter 13

         The next morning, my maids wake me up, not joyfully, or sweetly, but sadly. I immediately know something is wrong. They are all wearing black.
        " What's wrong?"I inquire, as they dress me in black, head to toe.
         " Former queen, Eadlyn Schreave, has passed away."
         And I begin to cry. Not because I loved queen Eadlyn, but because I knew Mason would be heartbroken.
         I head downstairs, and all the girls are there, with sober expressions. Then, a guard came to fetch us to t as ke us to the funeral. They wanted to have it immediately.
         Mobs of people, crying and dressed in black, crowd the gates. We ride in black cars to the church. When we enter this Cathedral, we take a seat in the second row. Right behind Mason. He looks awful.
          " Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Eadlyn Screave, queen of Illea. She did many great things in her reign, and she will not be forgotten. She is with the Lord now. But this fact alone does not make us any less sad for her loss. She was 102 years old, and is survived by her daughter, son, grandchildren, and her great grandson, King George, and her Great great grandson,prince Mason Schreave of Illea. "
          Then, the choir sang the national anthem, along with some of Eadlyn's favorite songs, and it was over. She is to be buried in the Royal Cemetery on the palace grounds. When we returned, mountains of flowers and cards were lined up against the walls, and the people were there crying, and when we passed they stood and curtsied, and bowed, and they were all very kind. But nothing helps but time with this kind of wound. Poor Mason.
          When I get to my room, I immediately send for Mason. Minutes later, I hear a quiet knock on the door.
         " Come in."
         "Caroline? What do you need?"
         " Oh. Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
         "I'm not."
         " I know. "
         " Could we talk?"
         " Absolutely."
          There was no talking being done. I just let him curl up beside me , like the child he was, with his head on my lap, and he just cried. He loved that woman. As old as she was, she was his best friend. She taught him how to read, and he adored her. And now, she was gone.
         But I know how to boost his mood. I learned over, and kissed him on the cheek, and then the lips. And suddenly, he was much better. Like we were the only two people in the world. I guess I do love him after all.