Helena had prepared a stunning gown in the darkest black for Eirian. It was fully in the style of Sorrow, with none of the trappings of the East that Eirian had incorporated into her wardrobe at the Calia. Miles of soft velvet and tulle, structure to make Eirian look like sothing a Verer carved from marble. There was no decoration, no embroidery or jewels. The closest thing to decoration was the delicate, high color that brushed her jaw and plunged down just enough to be considered indecent by the Puritans.
Chenzhou had no idea what to make of it, and any other ti, she would have been amused by his cluelessness.
Between the color and the cut, it highlighted Eirian’s limited assets because even at her uncle’s funeral and her cousin’s coronation, she couldn’t afford to look anything less than perfect. Anything less would feed the high society gossip and Eric’s enemies for years.
The outfit Helena had ordered for Chenzhou was better balanced and not altogether that different from what he normally wore at the Calia.
She was making a point about Eirian’s origins that would be important in the coming days.
Chenzhou’s visible relief when he realized his outfit was more familiar made her smile faintly.
“You need to co to the capital more often.” She offered quietly and helped him adjust the robe so it fell correctly in the back.
It had taken an hour to get her makeup done well enough to hide that she’d been crying, and she was determined not to ruin it until Eric’s coronation was over.
Chenzhou stood still while she fiddled with his clothes and then hair, making everything as perfect as possible and distracting herself as much as she could from the crippling grief.
She avoided his eyes, knowing she’d start crying all over again if she saw the sympathy in his eyes.
“What do you want to do?” He asked softly, while she fixed the dals on his chest for the third ti, and the city bells began to chi in a slow, mournful beat.
Eirian stepped back, ordering herself to stand up straight and get herself under control.
Chenzhou reached for her, but he hesitated when Eirian flinched. He studied her, wondering if offering comfort would just make it worse, but decided it mattered more to know that it was there at all.
He brushed a strand of moonfire hair behind her ear, admired the complicated series of braids it had been piled into on top of her head that gave her a few extra inches of height, and waited for her to et his eyes.
When she finally did, he could see the tears barely held at bay. “I’m here. Everything else aside, I’m here.”
She gave him a tight, watery smile and nodded.
A knock on the door signified that it was ti to join the procession, and Chenzhou tucked her under his arm instead of offering her his arm. Eirian was stiff at first, but after a mont, she relaxed and leaned into his side.
Her head fit perfectly into the space between his neck and shoulder, and he was surprised at how soft her hair was as it brushed against his cheek.
She slled like sweet smoke and rain sohow. Like a fire lit on a snowy winter night.
He hadn’t noticed that before.
He shouldn’t be noticing it now. Never mind that Ana was waiting for him back at the Calia, furious and hurt because he’d refused to stay behind when Eirian said she had to go.
He was failing her, he knew. Things were changing, including feelings he’d been convinced would never.
They stepped into the hallway, thankfully giving him a reason to focus on sothing else, and joined Helena, sohow looking more dramatic than Eirian, in a gown twice as big, and Eric, who looked like shadow made flesh. He shared Eirian’s Soliel coloring, and the two of them looked suitably intimidating in black.
Helena led the way, though by rights, Eric could have, except he wasn’t the type to insult his mother like that.
Eirian and Chenzhou fell into step behind him, with Will and a small party of aptly dressed Imperial Guards forming a loose circle of protection as they made their way from the royal rooms to the Great Hall, where Jacques would lie at rest.
The decorations that normally lined the walls, depicting the success of Jacques’ long reign, had been removed or covered by black cloth, and dark curtains blocked all natural light. A row of candles marked the path, with silent sentinels every few feet. The Imperial Army was taking no chances with their King’s body.
The rest of the high-ranked officials were gathering behind them, behind the generals of the Imperial Army and the three highest-ranking mbers of the High Court.
High society would follow them, the nobility separated into ranks, and then the common folk, lucky enough to squeeze in after them.
The huge hall, where important summits and celebrations were held, was famous for its echoes, but this morning it was deathly silent.
The only important celebration that didn’t typically happen in this room was the coronation, and only because the previous king was usually lying in state when his successor was sworn in.
For that very reason, Eric would be sworn in in the smaller chambers of the High Court once the necessary officials had paid their respects to his father.
A few weeks from now, when the appropriate morning period had passed, there would be a more public ceremony and a celebration for the entire city.
Helena stopped beside Jacques’ body. Only his closest family mbers were permitted close enough to touch, and she put her hand on his and leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead. “Goodbye, my love. It was quite the ride.”
Whatever rumors, true or false, that had surrounded their marriage bed, or whatever other ones they frequented, Helena and Jacques had been well-matched and incredibly fond of each other and had ruled together successfully for fifty years.
Chenzhou couldn’t even begin to understand the grief she felt, saying one last goodbye to a man who would never speak to her again.
~ tbc
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