10. Not Said To Me
Gilthunder stood silently looking at the casket. He knew he should be feeling something––after all, he had cried miserably at his father's funeral––but now, he felt nothing.
"Young lord." A servant's voice snapped him out of his daze, and he looked up. "It's nearly time."
"Not yet," he answered coldly.
The woman, a bit older than his mother, sighed and folded her hands against her apron. "The people are waiting to pay their respects. The king himself is here."
"The king?" Gilthunder knew what that meant, what an honor it was to have him come personally, even at the age of twelve.
Nodding, the woman continued, "Even in the midst of his own mourning, he has come with the princesses to see your dear mother. What a good man."
Gilthunder pressed his lips together, his eyes moving back to the casket. Baltra was one of the last people he wanted to see, but it could not be helped.
"I'll send him in at least. Can't keep the Majesties waiting."
Before he could give a protest, she swept from the room. But what difference did it make? Eventually he had to leave this room, eventually they needed to take the casket and put it into the ground.
The door opened again. Stiffly, Gilthunder raised his head, pulling his shoulders back to step out around the casket. "Your Majesty," he said, a bit hoarse, and gave an even stiffer bow. The manners and the words and the ritual of it all had been ingrained in him since birth. Not that that did him one bit of good now.
The king was dressed in dark clothing, as were the three girls who followed him inside. But Gilthunder ignored them, annoyed by so much ceremony, and kept his eyes fixed on the crest of Liones that hung from the king's neck. "My dear boy," he said somberly, and to Gilthunder's surprise, Baltra moved to sweep him up into a big hug. "I'm so very sorry for your loss."
The boy was frozen as the king patted his back. He felt a burning rising up his neck and to his cheeks, and for one horrifying moment, he was tempted to throw his arms around the king and let loose a sob. But that wouldn't do, not now, so Gilthunder simply endured the hug until the king released him.
"I'm sorry for yours as well," Gil said as he stepped back and cleared his throat.
"For all of our losses." Baltra's voice wavered a bit, making Gil flush again. The king laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Now, my boy, is there anything you need? Anything at all? We are family, after all. We must take care of one another."
What did he need? The irony of such a statement was laughable. He needed a spell to turn back time, to go back three days ago, when his mother and aunt had gone to have tea with the queen, so he could warn them about the thing that would come slinking through the shadows on a perfectly ordinary afternoon. To go back before his father had been murdered, before Margaret had come to him sobbing and holding a terrible secret, to tell himself to run and find help before it was too late. Or perhaps, even further, to when the Grand Masters were still Holy Knights that served Zaratras, to observe their behavior, to figure out when and how they had changed. To tell himself to watch and wait and listen, because betrayal was coming.
But such a thing was impossible, so Gilthunder shook his head. "Thank you, Sire. What of the monster that killed the queen, and my mother? Has there been any sign?"
Baltra sighed. "Don't worry about that. My knights will find the beast and have its head. In the meanwhile, you are quite safe here in the castle, and will remain until your uncle can make suitable arrangements. Although, I hope he allows you to continue on here. We would quite miss you if you were gone."
Gilthunder dropped his head, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Thank you for your generosity, Sire."
Safe in the castle? The irony tasted bitter. But Baltra only patted his shoulder and said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to say my goodbye to your mother. Rene was a lovely woman, and I know the queen held her dear to her heart." He sighed heavily, but Gil refused to look up and meet the watery eyes of the king. "She is with your father now, although that's not much comfort yet. But it will be, I'm sure."
With that, the king stepped away and around the casket. Gil blew out a breath he had not realized he was holding, his shoulders shaking a bit with the effort to keep his emotions in control. He breathed slowly in and out, the king's words echoing in his head. A lovely woman… with your father now… the queen held her dear…
"Gil." He jumped at his name, and when his eyes flew open, Veronica stood in front of him. She too was dressed in black, and for a moment he barely recognized her, her face full of emotion. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, and then incredibly, she pulled him into a tight hug.
Veronica was not one for affection, so he could not help the little huff of laughter that came out. "I'm sorry too, for the queen," he replied, and the two embraced for a long moment. They had known one another nearly their entire lives, so even though he was twelve and she was nine, they took a bit of comfort in one another, as siblings would.
When they stepped back, another hand was on his arm, and then little Elizabeth was there, pressing her face into his chest as she hugged him tightly. "Gil!" she wailed. "Gil, they're gone! They're gone!"
"I know," he said awkwardly, giving her a pat on the head. It was so sudden and startling that he did not have the chance to extract himself.
He looked at Veronica for help, but the princess only patted her sister's head comfortingly. "It's going to be okay, Elizabeth," she said sadly. "We're going to stick together."
Sniffling, the youngest princess blinked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes even as she clutched him tightly around the waist. "Are you very sad, Gil?" she asked. "I cried all yesterday, and then Veronica cried, and then I cried again––"
"Elizabeth!" Veronica chastised her with a harsh whisper, tugging on her hair gently. "Of course he's sad, don't be a goose."
"Sorry, Gil," she mumbled, and stepped back. But instead of letting him go, Elizabeth took his hands in hers, and sighed. "I hope you feel better soon."
A single tear slipped from her cheek and landed on the back of his hand… and somehow, he did feel better, the tightly coiled knot that had lived in his stomach for days easing just a bit. He supposed it was the solidarity of having all lost their mothers in such an unexpected and frightful way. For a moment his mind flashed to Griamore, who he hadn't seen, but whose mother was also present at the tea. He was sure Griamore was doing even worse than he was, and it made him swallow uncomfortably.
"I heard you ask Father about the creature that killed them," Veronica whispered. "Are you going to try to find it?"
"I…" Gil frowned. He hadn't thought about that––after all, unlike the rest of them, he knew exactly who was behind the attack. He had his suspicions, anyway; a creature like that, a demon if the rumors were to be believed, somehow getting into the castle on its own was highly unlikely. Of course, no one knew that he knew, or what he knew. He could probably seek a bit of vengeance on his own, and they would not try to retaliate.
"If you're going, I'm coming too," Veronica insisted, leaning in so only they could hear. "I'll kill that monster myself if I have to."
"Monster?" Elizabeth whispered, frightened. "Veronica, no! I don't want you to die too!"
She started crying again, and Veronica's face twisted into a strange sort of pain; but then Margaret hissed behind them, "Stop it, both of you."
All three looked over at the first princess. Her eyes were dry, her face drawn tightly, her hands clasped demurely before her. But Gilthunder recognized the whites of her knuckles, could see the slight way her arms trembled. "No one is hunting any monsters. The Holy Knights will take care of it. The way they always protect us." Her eyes lifted to his, and he could see nothing but cold resolve. "You're upsetting Gil. Let's go."
Neither princess gave a protest, and Elizabeth finally let him go just to turn and cling to Veronica. The two sisters headed for the door, and Margaret turned to follow them. "I'm sorry if my sisters upset you," she said softly, her eyes on the floor. "The girls have taken our mother's death quite hard."
"The whole kingdom mourns for the queen," he replied. His throat had gone dry, and it took everything within him not to look around for the shadow. And Margaret… there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell her, but it was impossible.
The princess nodded. "Thank you, you are very kind." She drew in a deep breath, and Gil watched her hesitate, wondering what she planned to do next. But Margaret simply said, "Your lady mother was a beautiful woman. She was like a second mother to me, and I can only imagine your pain, Gil."
At that her voice broke a bit, and a fresh wave of hot tears rose behind his eyes. "I loved her very much," whispered Margaret.
There was another pause, as she gave him a chance to respond. But Gilthunder could not think of anything to say, so filled with misery and fear at that moment. He could only nod, and with the briefest look his way, Margaret walked back to the door to join her sisters.
A/N: Took a bit of liberty with this one, since technically Margaret did say it to him, just about someone else. Oh well. I'm going to push myself to get a new chapter out each weekend from here on out. Thank you for continuing to read!