Third Arc (Fallen Heart) – 266. Legacy IV
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Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 266. Legacy IV
The death of Prince Ilex, though veiled in the cloak of unexpectedness, carried an air of inevitability. Whispers had traversed the city’s corridors long before the tragic twist unfolded, murmurs born from the reckless clash between the headstrong prince and the cunning king.
In the realm of nobility, where reputations were as fragile as a dragonfly's wing, Ilex's brazen attack on Angel was akin to a death sentence. The knowing glances exchanged between courtiers betrayed an understanding that a noble of such recklessness could only be hurtling towards an untimely demise.
It wasn't that Ilex's fate was a complete mystery; rather, it was the method of his exit that caught them off guard. Taking his own life, the proud prince chose an end as dramatic as his life had been. In the hushed conversations of aristocrats and the muted discussions among commoners, the consensus emerged: none could envision Ilex humbling himself before Angel after the clash that had transpired.
The castle now echoed with the subdued acknowledgment that pride had trumped survival. Ilex's demise wasn't just a tragedy; it was a narrative woven with the threads of arrogance and defiance. The court, wrapped in a tapestry of grief and secrets, wrestled with the paradox of an expected end that unfolded in an unexpected manner. Grappling with the aftermath of Ilex's fatal misstep, the echoes of his recklessness lingered like a haunting melody.
Days crept by in an uneasy silence, the air heavy with an unspoken weight that draped the castle in somber hues. The guests now moved through the corridors in hushed tones, a collective understanding refraining them from probing the raw wound of Prince Ilex's demise.
In the quietude that enveloped the castle, the guests found solace in sending messages to their respective kingdoms, sharing the news of Ilex's untimely death. Yet, amidst the subdued atmosphere, a practical dilemma surfaced. Some guests, unprepared for mourning, found themselves scrambling to attire themselves appropriately. Servants, dispatched into the city, weaved through cobblestone streets in search of garments befitting the gravity of the occasion.
Despite Prince Ilex's questionable actions, Angel permitted the solemn rites. The preparations unfolded with meticulous care, ensuring that the ceremony befitted the status of a prince from Asteria.
The path to The Kings' Grave, a sacred resting place for royalty, awaited the departed prince's journey. It was a gesture from Angel, a recognition that even in death, the fallen prince held a place among those who came before him.
In the heart of the castle hall, Prince Ilex's lifeless body rested in a golden coffin adorned with intricate carvings, a poignant masterpiece in contrast to the muted sorrow that lingered in the air. The royal uniform, meticulously cleaned, draped over him, concealing the scars of his tumultuous journey.
The presence of the golden casket became a focal point, a visual symphony of loss and remembrance that demanded respect. Guards stood vigilant, their watchful eyes warding off any intrusion into the sacred space. Nobles, if they wished to pay their respects, treaded carefully, seeking permission from either King Gervis or Frost, acknowledging the sensitivity surrounding Ilex's final repose.
In a symbolic gesture, King Gervis entrusted Ophelia with Ilex's sword, Pride, a silent proclamation that hinted at the succession of the throne. It was an illusion, a fleeting mirage in the tapestry of royal affairs. Unbeknownst to many, the true arbiter of Asteria's future lay in Angel's hands. The decision of the next king, while ostensibly vested in tradition, hung in the delicate balance of Angel's discernment.
Angel allowed the illusion to persist momentarily. A concession not only to the grief-stricken kingdom but also to his own desire for stability. The absence of a clear successor, coupled with the potential for political upheaval, compelled Angel to play a role that was both firm and compassionate—a paradoxical dance characteristic of his rule.
The sun cast its golden farewell over the landscape as the day of Prince Ilex's burial arrived, a mere three days after his untimely demise. The castle grounds, draped in a heavy pall of grief, witnessed a solemn ceremony led by the grieving King Gervis. Swift and purposeful, he couldn't bear to let Ilex's cold body linger, a decision not just fueled by tradition but by an innate understanding that delaying the burial would only sow seeds of discord.
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