55 Misperceptions (1/2)

Along with the bearers, only the close family members and a few honored individuals had entered the royal tombs for the last part of the rites. The rest had stayed outside, standing in respect as the caskets were being brought in, and then in wait as they were being sealed inside one by one.

Leal stood with his countrymen and the other foreign representatives, some of whom had elected to exchange pleasantries with them. They had hesitated to do so before, but after learning that Leal was a royal and after seeing that Arnica's Queen had given him due honor, they decided it was safe enough to be seen associating with the foreign prince and his lords.

Some of Arnica's upper crust seemed to have been thinking the same, especially those who'd been wanting to get a closer look. In a stately trickle, nobles and elites had sought an introduction through the rulers chosen by the Queen earlier to sit with the Lyseans back at the Royal Palace.

A few who were already known to have connections with their hated neighbor through commerce or marriage went straight to them without bothering with formal introductions. In just a matter of minutes, a small court had formed around the four Lyseans, who were all easy on the eyes in their own ways, but none more so than their Prince.

Here and there, one can note disappointed faces among those who did not approach – the only thing that had stopped them were their disheveled physical states.

Surprisingly, Prince Leal proved to be as disarming as his companions. While acknowledging strangers and exchanging a few words with each of them, he was polite and non-dismissive – that is to say, not quite closed off but not exactly open either. When he rudely arrived late at the throne room earlier, many had assumed he was a spoiled snob, but his actions since then could be interpreted to mean that that was not the case at all.

True, if they were to take into account that he might be seeking a royal bride, it could be that he was simply baring the full magnificence of his feathers – ”raising his stocks” as it were. Most Arnicans were happy enough to appreciate the display or feel flattered and smug about the lengths Prince Leal seemed willing to go to for what he wanted.

They fully understood anyway. Even the most jealous among them couldn't help but admit that Princess Gisela's beauty was worth all the trouble.

Half an hour passed; the afternoon began to deepen. Gradually, people had been streaming out of the white building, with some needing to be assisted or downright carried because their grief combined with exhaustion had drained them completely. They'd held on only because necessity demanded it. Leal supposed it was too much to expect anything more.

Along with everyone else, who'd also once again fallen into respectful silence, he watched as person after person returned into their midst, waiting for a particular figure to appear.

When the Queen emerged from the shadowed doorways, she was jarringly alone. It was only several moments later that a heavily weeping Lady Ilse followed suit, supported by her worried-looking daughter.

Next came the Lord General, his seemingly unconscious wife in his arms, flanked by his younger son. Lothar's brother appeared to be dry-eyed, but it was not in an unfeeling way from what Leal could see. His stoic hold on his emotions bore resemblance to those of many of the soldiers, who were also exiting the mausoleum at intervals.

Soon, it seemed the last of everyone who'd entered had returned to the meadow. That's what it certainly looked like when no one more followed, and inattentive individuals assumed no one else was to come. They then either resumed their quiet socialization or sought out the blankets once again to rest some more. It will be another long and arduous walk back to the Royal Palace, after all.

From what Leal had observed, not just one but two women were still missing.

The suspicion that had first appeared in his mind during the procession intensified once again, in much the same way it had when he saw Hilde and the Lord General's daughter stay behind for a moment after the other princess and Lothar's brother headed towards the tree.

The two young women's exchange had seemed pleasant enough, if brief, and his concern over it had then been eclipsed by the realization that he did not need to worry about a certain wuss becoming a replacement rival to him. Like any other man, Lothar's brother appeared weak to physical beauty.