Serra seldom held a thought in her head for too long before giving it a voice, and right now she had a dozen of them jumbled up in her head that were begging to escape through her mouth.
But her voice failed her. As she sat in the front row of the cathedral listening to the priests and Oswin and finally Hector speak in Lord Uther's honor, her lips felt sewn shut and all she could do was let her thoughts keep running rampant. Memories of the first time she'd met Lord Uther, the day he offered her a place in House Ostia's service, how even when he was exasperated with her he treated her like a father would his daughter.
How until she learned the truth she'd been expecting him to give her a grand reward. Silly, selfish girl, she thought ruefully. The only reward she wanted now was for him not to be dead, even though she knew it was impossible.
When the services ended, she slowly approached the tomb.
"...rest well, milord," she finally managed to say. "And thank you...for everything."