The crown prince is dead - The funeral

Spring the 27th of April, 2023. The crown prince Theodore Armani of Ilomar was dead. His deathday just a week after his actual birthday, which he had celebrated hard. ’To becoming one year older, but none wiser!’ had he toasted at his rather modest birthday party in the castle, before sneaking out to some bar followed by a brothel. That’s what he always did when he was drunk, even with a beautiful and pregnant wife at home. Of course the public never saw that side of the perfect crown prince - he wasn’t even sure his wife Lily knew about his affairs, but Philippe knew. It didn’t turn out how any of them had expected because now he was dead. Dead at only 28 years old.

Theodore’s body, or well… parts of it, had been found in the ditch by a small area of forest by the university. Found by an unfortunate human taking a morning walk with her dog when the morning dew was still fresh. A group of crows had gathered on something hanging on by a a piece of rope tied to a tree branch, their awful cawing disrupting the peaceful quiet there usually was around the campus at this hour.

Probably s birdfeeder or something. The woman wasn’t intending on paying it any more attention than that until her dog charged for the crows, the trees or maybe what the crows were sitting on, pulling the leash hard and sudden. The woman stumbled and lost her grip of the leather and was forced to run after her dog. Luckily it didn’t run much futher than the trees and the chase was short before she caught up with the animal. She had just leaned down to pick up the loose leash when she glanced up and realized what the birds were actually doing… she screamed a ear-deafening scream. Loud enough to rattle the whole campus.

The ’birdfeeder’ was in all actuality the head of the beloved and famous crown prince Theodore, hanging on by a noose and now missing an eye. Jaw slack open with flies in his mouth. One of the birds must have picked it out. His blue and mauled face only a relic of the once handsome man he was.  She must have fainted at the grotesque sight, she told the police. The last thing she remembered was her dog chewing on something that looked like an arm…

The royal family had been notified and it had been quickly confirmed that it was indeed the prince who had been found. Cause of death hanging, but since there was no signs of blood anywhere, the beheading happened after his death. The body had been discarded not too long from the head. No one, not even his family had any idea of what he could have been doing out by the campus at the assumed time of death. And the only person to confirm was now dead. If there was any signs of who the murder could have been, they weren’t allowed to speak about at this time until they had more solid evidence. They were left that morning in grief and confusion. Queen Sylvia and princess Bianca had broken into heart-wrenching sobs as soon as the investigators had left the castle.

Philippe had stood there frozen in shock, staring into nothingness while his family grieved by his side. It felt surreal... And why wasn’t he a complete disaster upon hearing these news about his brother? Of course he knew the reason. Out of all his family members, he was - had been the most like his father. An absolute piece of shit.

Two days later and now they were gathered by the Cathedral in Cirrane, a middle-class region in Ilomar. And it showed by the increased amount of activity, trash and noise. Philippe wasn’t that familiar with the area outside of the Cathedral were most of their service held place. Living in the castle sometimes felt like a bubble completely different from the rest of the world. A bubble he wished to burst many times. The main cause being his extremely conservative, religious and abusive father. Punishing him for things he hadn’t even done, or hadn’t been able to control and then had the audacity to pretend like he did nothing wrong. And forcing both Philippe and the rest of his family to keep quiet about it.

Their whole family knew the truth about the abuse King Giovanni caused the youngest prince. Of course there was really nothing they could do about it, but unlike Theodore, they had made it clear that they didn’t support it. Meanwhile his ’charming and perfect brother’ sometimes had slapped or shoved him too for good measure when they were in another fight. In some sense enabling it.

Well… one less pain in his ass, he thought as they walked past the press trying to get photos. His bodyguard Melody staying close to him, making sure no one got too close or touched him until they were inside the cathedral.

The press and photographers weren’t allowed inside during the cermony, but they all wanted to know exactly what had happened to the country’s jewel. They didn’t make many public appearences like this. Though prince Philippe had scored the front page a few times in his youth, doing things he shouldn’t and sure as hell earning him a beating afterwards. Now he was mostly on the front page of teen-tabloids and getting ranked among the ’hottest men’. It was the way of fame.

The staff, maybe the priest or something greeted in the entrance hall, paying his condolences. ”Your royal highness, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Silvia had to fish up her embroidered hankerchief to wipe her eyes that hadn’t been dry since the news about Theodore arrived.

”It’s very tragic news. Theodore was a good man and a believer in god. I hope you can find peace in knowing that he’s with god now.” Philippe resisted the urge to roll his eyes when his parents nodded, whole-heartedly believing that shit. It would not be decent in church however and probably cause him more trouble. He definitely didn’t need more of that.

His attention was elsewhere, namedly the introcate details on the walls when the priest eventually turned to him. Someone elbowed him softly in his side. ”Huh? Ah, yes, very tragic(not really) indeed..” He agreed, putting on his most convincing not-the-same-since look. His father eyed him suspiciously when they were let go to take their seats in the front row.

At the front of the aisle, the casket stood, huge and expensive flower ornaments covering it and the floor around it. At the side table, a picture of Theodore in his prime during his wedding with Lily. Not with his head cut off, that’s for sure. Though he wondered…. They hadn’t seen his body after his murder and he turned to discreetly whisper to Melody, who he knew had sworn to secrecy regarding most of the things he did or said about and in his private life. The little he did share.

”Which part of him do we think they put in there?”

His sister who had heard him turned to look at them scandalized. ”Philippe!” She hissed, albeit trying to be quiet while the cathedral filled up with guests. ”That’s not proper.” He shrugged. ”What? I’m just curious. They didn’t let us see him at all.” For all they knew there might not be anything in that casket. Though they should probably be happy about not having to see it.

The crown prince's death was horrible news and Melody couldn't help but think that it was her fault.
Not that it truly was her fault. She wasn't even on duty by the estimated time of his death. But as a guard of the royals, as a Godia Warrior, she couldn't help but think that maybe there was something she could have done. A foreseeing spell, a protective potion for the prince to drink, maybe a sign that something bad was about to happen. She was sure that every Godia Warrior felt this way - that they had led the Royals and therefor the country down. Didn't help the horrible feeling though.
Now, this feeling wasn't personal. Melody didn't care for the passed crown prince. As a royal guard and friend with Philippe she was close enough with the royals, deep enough in their castle, to know some of the secrets behind the facade. Prince Theodor wasn't a man deserving of the throne. A man deserving to die? Of course not. Especially not in that way. But she had to admit that she preferred Julian as the next king. Might be an upgrade - which Melody of course didn't say aloud. She knew better than that.

The atmosphere in the cathedral was sorrowful and heavy. It didn't help that the whole cathedral was packed; some people even had to stand up against the backwalls, barely squeezed into the huge building. A choir's song chimed through the hall, almost drowning out Melody's own thoughts. She hated that; it made her anxious when her senses were limited. And how the hall filled with people, the exit blocked. The restlessness roamed inside her. Not that it could be seen; as a trained Warrior she walked perfectly calm and set next to the royal family. The only cue was her left index finger, tapping away on her upper thigh, where her hand rested.

Philippe was distracted. His attention was elsewhere, and Melody understood why. If it was up to him, all of him would probably be elsewhere. She didn't blame him either, but that didn't stop her from elbowing him in the side, when his attention was needed her. As his friend but also as a part of the job. She needed to keep the royals on their best condition. Even through tough times like this.

Although she couldn't keep a proper straight face, when Philippe turned to whisper to her. Oh my lord, what part of him? The absurdity of the question in such a serious setting made Melody giggle, very briefly, before forcing herself to compose herself. Act as if she was a completely serious Warrior. Luckily for her she managed to do so right before the princess turned towards them and scorned Philippe for his question. Melody acted as if she wasn't even involved. She was used to that as a guard. Only speak when spoken though.

But when the princess turned around again to watch the funeral, Melody dared to lean closer to Philippe and very quietly, while not completely being able to wipe of her smirk, whisper: "Probably all the parts they could find."

As the hier of the high priest, there was alot to remember and keep track of. To smile and lie to naive believers, the values and beliefs of Iostanity among other things. Alina had never been very religious growing up, in fact she barely knew anything about religion until she was way into her teens. Most of the her magic was something unknown. She just had it, but didn’t know to what extent it could take her in this world. She had other things to worry about. Like how to please her demanding mother who for most of her childhood required all her attention. There was no space for ’god’ or anyone else though her mother claimed to have met Iosta herself. That was of course, only delusion and a desperate attempt to get attention on her end. That was until Nitrius had seen something in her daughter, Alina and chosen her as his next hier.

Alina was still no believer, but this position meant power, influence and stability. Everything she had lacked growing up. There was nothing she wanted more, so she would do what she had to do. If that meant getting thrown into the depths of religion to keep up this image of a messenger of god, she would fucking take it. Her mother was perhaps even more extatic, suddenly she knew all along that Alina was destined for greatness. It was in their blood and magic, as enferi to rule over them all. With great magic came great responsibility. The longer she was under Nitrius wing, the more she came to believe it herself.

Nitrius was a good mentor to her. Thorough and patient until she had found her place within this new world of magic. He taught her what it really meant to be an enferi and how powerful she in reality was. Their powers favoured by god in a way the others could never be. The least they could do was help the lost souls.

He taught her the bad things aswell. How looking kind and fair was much more important than actually being kind and fair. He didn’t tell anyone this but her, sometimes it was best to lie for the greater good. Some people wouldn’t understand what was best for all of them. She would eventually learn, he told her countless of times during their lessons. Then there was the demonic warlocks called nachons, not too different from them, but spawns of the devil. Their powers evil compared to their pure and good magic. To her mentor she of course agreed that nachons were truly evil, but secretly she was faschinated by their powers. Her endgoal was and would always be to advance her own life, no matter what it would take.

Since the day she got chosen, Alinas life had drastically changed for the better. Sure, she had always been somewhat popular in school due to her appearance and magic, but she had never been this recognised. Everyone that meant anything knew who she was without even having met her. And it felt good. Alina was exactly where she should be.

As apart of her training, she assisted the now elderly high priest in his work. Taking notes and sometimes holding smaller preaching sessions herself to prepare for her future. That’s why she was here today at the funeral of the late crown prince Theodore. God knew she wouldn’t have been invited if she had still lived her old unimportant life. Now Alina even had her own kind of following of enferis. Younger students taking notes on how to maybe, one day, be great and close to god like her.

One of her most loyal and obsessed pawns was Nora Smith. Always following her around, watching and observing her. Desperately searching for her approval. Alina saw it for what it was and frankly thought it was quite pathetic. Like she could ever be like her. Refusing to realize the two of them was quite similar in some sense. It was just a silly girls fantasy. Though could she really blame her? Everyone should be obsessed with Alina, why wouldn’t they? She was Alina Petrova. In her mind that spoke for itself.

Her attitude towards Nora and the other ’followers’ depended on her mood. Most of the time she was quite standoff-ish. At least in the beginning. It was not in Alinas nature to be nice for the sake of being nice. Like today when they were getting ready in the sacristy before the funeral. While Alina zipped up her introcate embroidered dress, Nora stood watching her and made a shy comment about ’one day being able to spread the word of god’, like her. In that moment she felt the urge to tell her to give up her stupid dreams.

Looking kind is more important than being kind, Nirtirus words rang in her head.

So instead Alina turned to approach her, smiling softly. All of it a facade. ”Maybe one day you will. If you’re good enough, god will reward you.” She reminded her, grabbing the younger girls soft jaw and running her long and sharp manicured nail over her cheekbone. Pressing it into her skin just little harder than necessary. There was increased movement outside the thin door.

”It’s time.” She said and released her, gathering her skirt as she stepped up the stairs and into the cathedral.

The crown prince was dead, and Nora was sure the nachons were behind it.

When the news had circulated through the monastery; the horrific details of the prince's found remains, she had known it, at once, to be a monster's work. Only Tarron and his demonic spawn would be capable of such an evil deed. Even days after, she would find herself shivering, should her thoughts land upon the massacre of their pious prince. When that happened, she would clutch the prism she wore around her neck. Iosta, creator, bring me courage to face the darkness. Light my way, brighten my heart, and save me from the shadows of destruction. As such would her prayer sound. And she would feel the warmth of The Creator spread, answering her.

There were still people who followed the old religion and claimed that Iosta wasn't the only god. And others yet who claimed not to believe in a god at all. But Nora knew, and had known since... Well, as long as she could remember. She had known that Iosta stood by her. Her Enferi powers were proof. She was blessed. And this knowledge should not be kept from people. She would enlighten them! As The Order had saved her, so she would save others. How lucky she had been. Even now she was blessed, blessed by the presence of Alina Petrova, the high priest to be. The girl was four years her senior and everything Nora wanted to be. Beautiful, powerful, important. And chosen by Iosta!

Nora was standing by Alina, as the latter was getting ready for the funeral. Despite the sad occasion, she couldn't help blabbering. "You look so pretty!" She said, admiring the older girl. "I can't wait to be done with my training. Do you think it will be long? Of course, I'll never be as good as you, but you are, well, you!" She sighed. "One day I'll be able to share the teachings of Iosta." To her surprise Alina grabbed her face. Probably not meaning to hurt her but doing so. When she was let go of, Nora stood still for a second, rubbing her cheek. Alina had been right. She needed to be better. Iosta was fair and would reward her.

She followed her down the stairs and into the cathedral. Finding her seat with the other novices, waiting for the ceremony to start.

Cassius was dressed in his best funeral attire, a black suit, black tie and a black shirt. His hair was done and didn't look as messy as it usually did. Cassius did not feel like himself at all when he looked in the mirror. "I hope to Iosta that you have 'fed', we don't want to anything happening at the funeral" His mother, Elvira Seymour said, her face scrunching up as she used the word 'fed'. She was clearly hinting at his cursed state and what unfortunately came with it. You'd think a mother would just be happy her child was alive, however for Elvira Seymour, being perfecet and spotless in the eyes of society was more important than her children's well being. "Of course mother, I wouldn't want to bring shame to you and father" Cassius responded as a door to the hallway opened and an middle-aged man resembling Cassius entered the hallway.

"Are you both ready now? We're leaving unless we want to be late" His father, Alaric Seymour, asked sternly, his voice and expression devoid of any feeling. Looking at the scene, you'd never think these people gathered were a family by the cold and distant way they spoke to each other. With no more comments the three Seymours left the family estate and made their way to the funeral. Not a single word was spoken on the way.

Once they arrived, Alaric Seymour did even need to utter a word when he stared as his son. The stare itself was warning enough to behave, to not let on about his condition and above all well, to not even dare to tarnish the Seymour name. The three got out of the car and followed the procession into the church. Elvira Seymour already put on the act of a grieving citizen. The only way Cassius knew it was an act was that he knew his mother well enough to know she would never shed real tears. A faint memory of a day a decade ago confirmed his thoughts about her.  Alaric Seymour on the other hand, did not let a trace of emotion show on his face, Cassius was unsure if he had ever seen his father's expression change. Well, if you look past the day he discovered that Cassius was cursed. Cassius would never forget the look of pure anger on his father's face that day.

No use thinking about the past now, Cassius had a job to do, beside being the 'perfect son' for his family. He had to be on top of his game and senses. Cassius was not only here as the heir of the Seymour family, but as a spy for none other than the EFA. Cassius and his parents found their places and stood still during the ceremony. Everyone around probably thought that Cassius was paying his respects and grieving for the loss of a prominent figure in this society, however in reality Cassius was actually collecting information, he eavesdropped on small whispers, glanced around and took in any signs of something amiss, reading the people's body language. He was on the lookout for anything that could be relevant information for the EFA to know.

Philippe and Melody snickered over what parts of his late brother they could have found, but was forced to silence when the priest spoke into his microphone and began the cermony. Joined behind him was his hier, hands clasped in front of her with an unreadable expression, waiting for Nirtrius to call her forward. Here we go... Philippe sank down further in his seat, trying to get comfortable. He hated listening to the priest. Services overall was probably one of the most boring things he could think of. Unfortunately he didn't really have a choice.

"We have gathered her today to say farwell and honor the life of crown prince Theodore. The 25th of april we lost one of this nations jewels, way too young. We will honor his memory and everything he has done for our community. Aswell as a loving son, brother, husband and father to be, he was also a man of the people. He donated to charity and helped people out of poverty from the goodness of his heart,"

He did? That was certainly news to Philippe. He glanced around and saw that everyone ate it all up. And if it was true it was hardly from the goodness of his heart. In fact many things in that speech was a lie. But poeple wanted to believe whatever they wanted. They called forward Lily Armani, Theodores now widowed wife to hold a speech. Her big pregnant stomach almost getting in the way while she walked up the stairs to the podium. She was visibly shaking when she grabbed the microphone, her voice fragile as she spoke about her late husband and how their daughter would grow up without her father. Mid-speech, Lily burst into sobs and was unable to continue. Everyone, even Philippe looked sympathetic as Alina Petrova helped the poor woman off stage. No one could blame her but his father whispered that it was fortunate the press wasn't in here to document it. Ugh, give her some slack, he thought and rolled his eyes. Sharing a look with Melody beside him. Philippe wondered how sorry she actually was since he knew how Theo acted in private. It was never easy to let go of someone you once loved though, he supposed.

The priest took the microphone again, this time inviting him up on stage to serenate his brother with a song. Honestly, he had all but forgotten that he was supposed to perform. He hadn't even practised, but he was confident enough with his skills that he rarely needed it anyway. His father would kill him though if he seemed to be unprepared.

"Which song am I supposed to sing?" He quickly asked Melody who helped him keep tabs of everything he couldn't be assed with. Luckily she remembered and he thanked her in all haste. He forced a tight smile when he stood up and reluctantly strode up on stage, feeling all eyes on him. Philippe loved to sing but he didn't feel like serenating his asshole brother. He sang Nessum Dorma, a classical piece since that was the genre when his voice really got to shine, showing off those impressive high notes and vibrato. He was more opera than pop.

When it was all over, he accepted the applause and then sat back down again between Melody and his sister, letting the priest end this cermony before the private reception or perhaps 'after party' would begin.

"I really need a fucking drink."

The whole cathedral hall went silent, when the priest spoke into the microphone, his autocratic voice pulsating through the audience. Melody went silent too in an instant, even after sniggering with the prince. As a proud iostian, she had the outmost respect of Nitrius the Fifth. She had grown up hearing her parents and grandparents praising him, saying that he was the best High Priest they had had for decades. While she was way too young to have experienced any other than him, she agreed with her family. Just by hearing him speak, she felt closer to Iosta. So her attitude changed completely when he spoke, from goofing around on shift to sitting quietly, respectfully and captivated. This was one of the rare moments where she actually looked - and felt - calm. She even nodded along to what he said, even though she didn't fully agree with every word.

Lily Armani took over to give a speech about her late husband and Melody instantly felt sorry for her. What a horrible way to become a widow. She must have been absolutely devastated.
She did overhear the king's comment about the press and while that was an absolute shit comment to make in such an awful situation, it wasn't anything that surprised her and she could easily pretend as if she hadn't heard it - a skill she learned to be useful as a Royal Guard. The only hint of her overhearing it was the look she shared with Philippe, whom she know thought the same as her.

It was time for Philippe's song and judging be the way his eyes widened, he had forgotten everything about it. He played it off well though, acting as if he hadn't forgotten a thing. It was probably only Melody who saw the millisecond of confusion in his eyes and she made sure not to comment on it.
When he under his breath asked her about the song, she quickly whispered back the answer: "Nessum Dorma." While answering she made sure to send him passing smile, an encouragement for what he was about to do. Not because he needed insurance about his singing voice, everyone knew he had the voice of an angel, but because of the situation he was about to sing in.

His voice filled the cathedral, his vibrato pulsating through the audience, warm and inviting, as an embrace. The complete opposite of the autocratic voice of the High Priest, and Melody was just as captivated. She was probably the loudest one in the applause when he was done with the song and even at this sorrowful event she had a smile of awe on her face.

She snorted and clicked her tongue at her friend's comment.
"You and me both," she said, mumbling it too him, so the other royals wouldn't hear, "Though I doubt they'd have anything strong enough for us not to handle."
She wasn't a light-weight at all, with all her muscles and Godia powers. Philippe was the same. And Melody loved being drunk, so that often turned out to be an - expensive - issue for her. But oh well, a drink is a drink.

Alina took her place behind the hight priest when the cermony began, only to step forward if called for. They hadn’t planned for her to hold a speech, but she had prepared if so was the case. Some well-chosen words that would have been appropriate for any kind of funeral. They will be missed,  and so on… Sometimes Nitrius acted on instinct, or when Iosta made a last minute decision. You never know what the next day would bring.

It was not her turn to speak today, which suited her just fine. Standing there and looking pretty was enough publicity for her to feel important. Just the fact that she was standing up here with him showed her importance compared to the other priests. The others were seated in the crowd like commoners. Where they belonged, she thought smugly but expression remained netural.

The only time she did step forward was when she had to escort the widowed wife off the stage. She was too much of a crying mess to be talking about her late husband. Weak and embarrassing. The woman was shaking in her arms and had to rely on Alina for support until she found her seat. Alina made sure she was okay, giving a silent nod and a sympathetic smile. Not because she cared but because she was supposed to. Then she returned to her position, hands clasped together behind her back during the crown princes brothers beautiful song and the rest of the service.

When the casket was off to be buried, the cathedral slowly emptied itself. Alina and the rest of the priests stayed behind meanwhile some were off to the reception and others were going home. About to continue their lives like normal now when they had payed their respects to feel better about themselves.

”How did I look?” She asked Nora afterwards when they were on the way back from where they came from before the cermony started. In the end, all she cared about was her own image and hoped she looked amazing up there. Though she knew Nora would get her the attention and reassurment she wanted. Most of the time she served as a big ego boost to Alina. In that sense, she wasn’t totally worthless and annoying to her.

”What a beautiful service,” a grating familiar voice spoke behind her and Alina immediately tensed, teeth gritting.

She hadn’t even noticed Hazels attendance until now and she was not happy to see her. The only thing stopping her from not cursing her out was the fact that Nora was beside her. Some funeral guests were still lingering behind and she couldn’t afford to look crazy in front of all these people. It was with great difficulty Alina smiled, albeit coldly. Her piece of shit ex continued to say Alina probably had nothing to do with the beautiful service, but Alina knew she didn’t actually mean that. She was just trying to piss her off. It was working, but she didn’t actually want to give her that satisfaction.

”Nora, why don’t you leave.” It wasn’t a question and she waited until Nora had stalked away before she spoke. Her cold smile fell into a scowl.

”What are you doing here? Though I suppose I can’t say I’m suprised to see that you’re still completely and utterly obsessed with me.” Acting like she wasn’t too. ”Why don’t you save yourself the last dignity you have left and piss off.”