43 The Funeral IV (2/2)
The intended recipient missed the look entirely. ”Officiate,” she called. Once releasing Hilde from her gaze, the Queen acted as if she'd dismissed her completely. Swallowing, the younger woman thought it was just as well. The paunchy middle-aged man who'd been at the head of the column hurried to his monarch's side. ”Are all in readiness?” she asked.
The Royal Officiate hesitated, indicating the answer was ”no.”
”Yes, Queen,” he answered anyway, bowing with extra grace. ”I shall go signal our departure.”
Wasting no time, he returned to his place at the head of the column and matched his words with actions. Despite whatever else needed doing, the second part of the funeral rites commenced. The servants who were to stay behind cleared away trays of cups and plates; those who were to come with their masters and mistresses were armed with leather flasks of fluids and pouches full of gray cotton cloths.
Like well-oiled cogs, the top tiers of Arnica's society broke the heretofore-clear divisions within their ranks. Major and minor nobles, the untitled elites, their attendants, and even the foreign representatives mingled and pressed together indiscriminately as they all chose at random which of the five biers to surround.
At least, the choice WAS supposed to be random. Barring the families, every living human present was supposed to accord the same importance to the dead if there's more than one who needed honoring in a day. In death, all of them were equals.
But this particular funeral was too politically charged for such niceties to be observed. After what happened at the throne room, only a complete and utter fool would ”randomly” choose to stand by the Lord General's family. Impervious individuals like the Lysean Prince aside, the rest would have to have a good enough reason – like a personal friendship with the deceased or his family that transcends scheming – or…
Well. They'd have to have skins of steel and a certain agenda to push, wouldn't they?
Lord Alfwin and his family had many of the first kind; his public pledge of loyalty to the Queen notwithstanding, there was also no shortage of the second kind to cluster around his son's bier.
As far as figuring out where people's initial allegiances lay, it was all loud and clear over at the other side.
On the side of the royals, it was trickier. Majority of those who'd surrounded the four living women and the one dead man also did not do so at random. The question was, which in particular had drawn them there? Was it the Queen, the Princess, the Prince, or – and this was very likely – the beauties?