Little Red Riding Hood and the Prince

Chapter 26- Mourning

We buried my Stepmother in August, at the edge of the property. A small pile of stones marks where her head rests many feet beneath the soft earth. We had no money or way to transfer her to a plot in the town graveyard, nor any money to have a coffin made. Besides, I'm not sure that there's a coffin maker still alive within miles of Meadowsoft. Miraculously the church Pastor is still alive, though two thirds of our small town did not survive the mysterious plague. It was disheartening to see the number of houses and shops boarded up when I dared to venture into town last month. Being greeted by emptiness and high prices had not made me eager to go again. Today, however, we are all going into town again to register Clarice's death.

I look at my siblings, drawing strength from the small smile that Katie gives me, despite the sadness in her eyes. We are all arrayed in our drabbest clothes, but though custom dictates black for mourning, we do not have the dresses. It has been six years since our family's last mourning period, and we have all long outgrown our old black garments. We'll refashion the old black dresses that once belonged to mother and stepmother soon, but for now we wear mourning only on our faces.

The walk is long with the solemn air heavy around us. True, the birds continue their chirping, and the bright sun beats down cheerfully, but none of us are enjoying the day. The town is eerily quiet when we reach it, and I remind myself sadly that this is the new normal. Too many empty places exist now, too many friends and community members gone. 

Will we ever recover?

We enter the church and head to the back where Pastor Jeramiah has his study. Katie knocks.

"Come in." The voice comes through sounding older and frailer than my memory recalls from many sermons.

He takes a look at our weary faces as we file in, and seems to grow a little more cheerless. I get to the point.

"We are here to register the death of Clarice Kelan Goldensneed."

"I see." He stood and took a large, hand-bound ledger from his shelf before reseating himself and flipping to the page marked by a white ribbon. We could see a partial list of names already written.

"So many gone" he remarked softly as he prepared his quill. He looked up briefly. "Do you wish for a formal service?"

"No." We had no money to pay for a service, and though the Pastor would have offered to do one for free, given our situation, I had no desire to impose on him. 

I also had no desire to publicly lay this fresh grief upon our mourning town. Everyone was hurting. Everyone, it seemed, had lost someone. Pastor Jeramiah himself had lost his wife Karen and son Tobias in the pandemic. It weighed heavily in the deepening creases of his face.

He finished writing even as I studied him.

"I am sorry for your loss. Clarice was unwell for many years, but I know that doesn't make this time easier."

I nodded. Next to me, the twins looked to be holding back tears, and Tristan clung tightly to my hand.

"She had a hard life" I said softly. "We didn't always get along, she was often difficult, but she will be missed."

Someone sniffled.

I thought about Clarice and how the death of my father broke her. She had been born in Gard and happily married first to a huntsman. During their first year of marriage, however, he was fatally injured, leaving her a pregnant, newlywed widow. I can't imagine how difficult things must have been for her- raising her daughters alone, dealing with the loss of her loved one. She truly was a strong woman. I don't blame her for ultimately breaking when history repeated itself- her second husband dying while expecting their child. I don't know if anyone could stay sane under such heartbreaking circumstances.

We were exiting the church, my thoughts considering whether or not she had been so harsh with me as a child because she was afraid of opening her heart again, when a hand grabbed my arm.

Startled, I looked into the face of an old woman whom I did not recognize.

"The king is dead and many of the court" she said in a surprisingly strong voice. Her eyes, a bright blue, found my own. "You will be the next queen, child. Remember this, God has plans to use you in restoring this nation. Wait patiently. Stay strong in your faith."

I blinked and she was gone. My siblings surrounded me.

"Where did the woman go?" I slowly asked. My brain felt cloudy, though her words echoed loudly in my mind.

"She left several minutes ago" Katherine said hesitantly. "Are you alright? You've been staring into space."

"I... yes, yes. I am fine. We should go."

So, we left. Went back to our home. Fixed dinner. Went to bed.

All that night, though, the words echoed in my mind.

"You will be the next queen."

Such an idea should have been ludicrous. Impossible. But for some reason I felt that the words were true, and I wondered how such a thing could be.