The King's Collie

Part V, Chapter 7: Of Requiem And Fanfare

It was the next morning that Felix looked upon the crowd, gathered for a royal announcement. It was usually a rare occasion in which the king himself would speak to the people, and address them so directly like this. Felix's reign, especially as of recent, proved this statement untrue: It was often that he himself would summarize some important updates, especially as of late. In a way, he regretted this tendency, but his mind was full of heavier things now. His eyes were worn and weary, for the lion, like anyone in the castle, did not sleep, deciding to spend the night alone.

He took to the balcony, facing the crowd that had gathered. It seemed there had been some strange conception that this was to be a joyous announcement. The children flew banners, and the young men and women cheered. A fanfare played, and a crier directed silence to an excited crowd.

"That's the face of a new father!" the king heard a stray voice postulate, much to the laughter of the crowd.

"Three cheers for the prince!" came the words of someone trying to stir the revelry.

"It's a princess, you dolt!" said another.

"Where's the queen?" another voice asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Tending to the child," answered another.

It was hard enough already, but Felix realized that with rumors of a doctor and priest coming to the castle, and the bright prosperity of recent months, that the crowd must have concluded this much. He didn't have the heart to say the truth, and certainly not loud enough if he did. He turned to Marco to tell him this, and quietly disclosed the exact words, before leaving. The crowd seemed confused, until the louder voice of the wolf, filling his rare role as a herald, repeated these words, having to gather his tears between repetition of the news.

Then came a shocked silence. Confused children asked their parents what this all meant, finding no surer answers. Bewilderment turned to disbelief, and fright, and denial. There was then the distinct and instantly recognizable sound afterwards, one so rarely ever heard: The sound of a kingdom weeping, stifling their cries and muffling their snouts and beaks into friends' and loved ones' arms. News spread only as slowly as the winds in the sails kept it back, and the world would come to know it beyond this limitation.

—

It was just later that day that the Narbonian otter came gleefully scampering back to the castle. It was a wonder, how Rhys would carry a canvas about twice as large as himself, but it was transported as safe as ever. It was the finished work: Felix and Cameron's dual portrait. He also knew Ophelia's portrait was likely done setting by now, and wanted to make sure it was still of his usual, artisanal quality.

There was a strange aura about the town, however, once he took notice of it. Even the ursine guard that let the mustelid in seemed somewhat teary-eyed.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," Rhys greeted, once he came across the lion king himself. This King was seemingly enjoying Ophelia's portrait, staring complacently at it.

"Rhys. Hello," the lion sighed, and forced a slight smile. "I suppose the portrait is done."

"Yeah! It'll need a bit of drying," the otter instructed, "but in that time you may hang it up somewhere, if you wanted, Your Highness," Rhys chuckled.

No response from the lion.

"And what of Ophelia's portrait?" the otter asked. "Does she favor her portrayal? I do remind you, I can offer a re—"

"Ophelia is dead," Felix choked on a simple truth.

Rhys stood, stunned, now understanding the silence he had heard, then covered his mouth, and knelt. "I'm sorry!" his voice cracked as he apologized. "I didn't know!"