The household shifted swiftly into mourning. Velvet-black drapes cover the walls, and white candles flicker along the hallway. The servants change into somber garments, their heads bowed, while a fresh memorial table is assembled in the main hall.
Emilia led the ritual with her head hanging low and cries streaming from her face at the realization that she is officially an orphan.
She wore a gown in muted silver rather than the traditional black, signifying loss because of her marriage the next morning.
As a labeled criminal, Markham's body was disposed of by the executioners, but they still wanted to honor him by preparing proper rites.
The ceremony began. One by one, family members kneel, placing offerings and tokens of personal belongings into the empty casket. Each item is supposed to represent their affection, regret, or reconciliation.
Then the coffin is carried away under a somber gray sky with everyone following behind it, but Emilia does not follow. As the future Queen, she is bound by custom, and she is forbidden from escorting the dead to their resting place. To do so would be considered to bring harm to the King she is set to marry.
Emilia stopped at the threshold of the mansion, her knuckles white as they gripped the door-frame. She lowered her head.
"Father," she whispered, barely audible.
Her tears fell like rain and her maids also joined her to weep for their master. Then Emilia turned and walked back inside, her heart fracturing with each step.
~
The knocking began before dawn and Emilia didn't even get any sleep.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
June and Alice pound on the chamber door, worry etched into their voices.
"My lady, please," Alice pleaded.
"The palace has sent another message. Preparations must begin. You haven't even opened the betrothal gifts."
Inside, Emilia sat in stillness. The gifts sit untouched in the corner like a pledge she wants to avoid.
"Open this door!" Sophia's voice came sharply from outside.
Emilia ignored her as well, but then a cough from Sophia cut through her ear and the sound broke Emilia's numb trance as she stood and opened the door quickly.
"You think you can escape this marriage by hiding?" Sophia scolded, waving the maids in.
"You have to prepare."
"Now," she said and grabbed Emilia's hands, who flinched, startled by the sudden touch.
Sophia exhaled, understanding the distance. When she became her stepmother, Emilia never warmed up to her and after so long, she gave up trying. She definitely isn't fond of her but felt very grateful that she saved every one of them and her daughter. She couldn't help but care when she is sacrificing so much.
"No matter what happens, you must survive in the palace."
"Do you understand?" Sophia's voice trembled, and her tears fell on Emilia's hands.
"Stay alive. Only that way can your father be assured in his death."
Then she stepped aside, and more servants entered with their heads lowered.
"Help her prepare," Sophia instructed.
"She must be bathed, shaved, and have her innocence confirmed again."
Emilia's jaw clenched, but she said nothing.
As she followed them out, she glided to her safe and tucked the sealed wound behind a loose panel. Then, with quiet precision, she slid the dagger into one of her traveling boxes.
---
The hours blur into endless preparation. Fragrant herbs and petals float in her bath. Emilia silently, allowed them to dress her, to clean her, to lace her into a gown heavy with meaning, but her spirit floats above, disconnected.
They drape her in the wedding robe, white silk embroidered with silver thread, trailing like fog. Her hair was brushed until it gleamed, then styled into an elegant cascade of curls.
Emilia barely breathed, feeling suffocated. Once everything was ready, she walked to the carriage with cold resolve and the entire household gathered to see her off.
Before stepping inside, she removed a delicate necklace around her neck and pressed it into Louis's hand.
"Keep this safe," she murmured.
"Protect it with your life."
Louis nodded, unable to respond loudly and Emilia climbed into the carriage after that.
The ride to the palace is silent and long, very quiet. The decorated carriage rolled through the cheering crowd, but inside, it might as well be a funeral procession.
~
The palace doors opened to reveal a grand ceremonial hall. At the far end, King Lucas waited beneath an ornate arch of white roses. His robe gleamed with his crown sitting straight on his head. He looked even colder, and impossibly regal.
Emilia walked forward, her snow-colored gown gliding across the marble floor and her pale dark hair glowed like flame beneath her veil.
She joined him at the altar and the rituals began, long, drawn-out, and with lots of bowing. When the final rite approached, Emilia knelt down and Lucas lifted her veil.
Their eyes met for the first time in eight years since Emilia stormed off from his presence. If not for her visit three nights ago, he would have forgotten how she looked.
Emilia's gaze stared coldly at him, but fragile and distant as well. And yet, Lucas feels stunned by her strikingly beautiful gray eyes.
His breath caught, just for a moment. And then he raised the crown up and placed it on her head.
"I crown you, Queen Emilia Benetton of Eldrid," his voice rang through the hall.
"Long live Queen Emilia!" the crowd roared, rising in reverence.
Emilia's expression remained the same, and she refused Lucas's help, getting up to her feet by herself.
Later, she is escorted to the King's private chambers, where she is expected to wait for the consummation of their union.
Robert and Thomas followed Thomas an hour later back to his chambers, but he waved them off and walked alone down the gilded corridor.
Lucas stopped at the door to his chambers, his hand resting on the handle.
For a moment, he hesitated and considered sending her away like he did with the others.
But then, he exhaled and entered.