Аманда Хокинг - Ascend

“You really think something’s going to happen to you?” Tove asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I need to know that the kingdom will be in good hands, no matter what.”

“Alright,” he said. “You have my word. We’ll stay married until after the Vittra are defeated, and if something happens to you, I will rule the kingdom to the best of my ability.”

“Thank you,” I smiled at him.

“Good.” Tove dropped his arm and stared straight ahead.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I suppose we should get ready. We have the Chancellor’s funeral at eleven.”

“I haven’t prepared my speech yet,” I sighed and Tove stood up. “What should I say about him?”

“Well, if you plan to say anything nice, you’re going to have to lie,” Tove muttered as he walked over to his closet.

“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“You didn’t hear what he wanted to do to you,” Tove said, talking loudly to be heard from the closet. “That man was a menace to our society.”

I sat on the bed, listening to my husband gather his clothes before he went to shower, and despite everything that was still going on, I felt as if this immense weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I still had no idea how to stop the Vittra and save everyone I cared about, and I had to write a eulogy for the Chancellor. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like there might be a life after this. If I could defeat the King, if I could save us, there might really be something to live for.

Willa wore all black, but the hem of her skirt only came to the middle of her thigh. At least she had classed it up a little for the funeral. My eulogy had gone over well, or about as well as a eulogy could go over. Nobody had cried for the Chancellor, and that seemed sad to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry for him either.

His funeral had been held in one of the larger meeting rooms in the palace. Black flowers and black candles decorated the room.

I’m not sure who had planned the funeral, but it looked like a Goth kid at a Cure concert had thrown up here.

After they took the Chancellor away to bury him in the palace cemetery, most of us stayed behind. He didn’t have any family or friends, and I’m not entirely sure how he got elected in the first place.

The mood was decidedly somber, but I don’t think that actually had much to do with the funeral. All the guests in attendance were muttering, whispering, huddled in corners talking quietly, and they kept glancing at me. I heard the word “painting” floating through the air like a breeze.

I stood off to the side of the room, talking mostly with Willa and Tove. Ordinarily, any of the royals would be eager to make some kind of small talk with me, but today, they all avoided me. Which was just as well. I didn’t have much I wanted to say to any of them.

“When is it polite for us to leave?” Willa asked, swirling her champagne around in her glass. I think she’d already had a couple glasses more than she should have, and she hiccupped daintily before covering her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me.”

“I think we’ve been here long enough.” Tove scanned the room, and some people had already left. His mother and father hadn’t been able to make it at all, and my mother could barely move, so she was still on bed rest.

“Whenever is fine with me,” I said.

“Good.” Willa set her glass on a nearby table, some of the bubbly pink liquid sloshing over the top. She looped her arm through mine, more to steady herself, and we left the room.

“Well, that went well,” I sighed, plucking a black flower from my hair as we went down the hall.

“Really?” Tove asked. “Because I thought that went horribly.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked beside me. “It could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“You should’ve drunk more,” Willa said. “That’s how I made it through that thing. And you’re lucky you’re my best friend, or I wouldn’t have gone at all.”

“You need to start doing more stuff like that, Willa,” I told her.

“You’re so good at handling people, and someday you might need to do it.”

“Nope, that’s your job,” she smiled. “I lucked out. I’m free to be the naughty drunk friend.”

I tried to argue with Willa about the merits of being a good Trylle citizen. She schmoozed much better than I ever could, and she was a great ally, when she put her mind to it. But right now, she was too tipsy to see reason in anything.

She was giggling at something I’d said when we reached the rotunda. Garrett was coming down the stairs, but he stopped halfway when he saw us. His hair was a mess, his shirt was untucked, and his eyes were red-rimmed.

As soon as his eyes met mine, I knew.

“Elora,” I breathed.

“Wendy, I’m sorry,” Garrett said, his voice thick with tears, and he shook his head.

I knew he wasn’t lying, but I had to see it for myself. I pulled my arm from Willa’s and lifted my black gown so I could race up the stairs. Garrett tried to reach out for me, but I ran past him. I didn’t slow at all, not until I got to my mother’s room.

She lay in bed, her body more of a skeleton. The sheets were pulled up to her chest, and her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. Even her hair had been brushed and smoothed, shimmering silver around her. Garrett had arranged her the way she would’ve wanted him to.

I knelt down next to her bed. I’m not sure why, except I felt compelled to be near her. I took her hand, cold and stiff in my own, and that’s when it hit me. Like a wave of despair I hadn’t even known I was capable of, I began to sob, burying my face in the blankets beside her.

I hadn’t expected to feel this much. Her death felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under me. Epic blackness stretched on forever to catch me.

There were things her death would signify, consequences I wasn’t ready for, but I didn’t even think about that. Not at first.

I clung to her, sobbing, because I was a daughter who had lost her mother. Despite our rocky relationship, she did love me, and I did love her. She was the only person that knew what it was like to be Queen, to give me advice, to shepherd me into this world, and she was gone.

I allowed myself an afternoon to really feel the loss, to feel the new hole that had been torn inside of me. That was all the time I had to mourn Elora, and then I had so much more I needed to do. But for that one afternoon, I let myself cry over everything we’d never been able to have, and the moments we’d shared that were worth treasuring.

Willa eventually pulled me away from Elora’s body so Garrett could begin the funeral arrangements, and she took me to Matt’s room. He hugged me and let me cry, and I’d never been more grateful for my brother. Without him, I’d feel like an orphan.

Tove stayed with me in Matt’s room, not saying anything, and eventually, Duncan joined us. I sat on the floor with my back leaning against the bed, and Matt sat beside me. Willa had sobered up rather quickly, and she sat on the bed behind me, her long legs draped over the edge.

“I hate to leave you like this, but I think I should I go help my father.” Willa touched my head when she stood up. “He shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“I can help him.” I started to push myself up, but Matt put his hand on my arm.

“You can help tomorrow,” Matt said. “You’re going to have a lot to do. Today, you can be sad.”

“Matt’s right,” Willa said. “I can handle this for now.”

“Alright.” I settled back down and wiped my eyes. “We need to keep this to ourselves if we can. Keep her death quiet, and hold off on the funeral for as long as possible. I don’t want the King to find out.”