I lie in the loneliness of evening, looking out on a candle-flame-drove. and ask the moon am I doomed, oh doomed to live my alone?…
The people of France were roused from their sleep early that morning. Everyone in the capital: the poor, the wealthy, the young, the old- gathered in the square for the funeral procession. Hundreds of people poured in, waiting in the rain for the Prince's would-be bride to be loaded into the hearse. Six pallbearers carried her out in a coffin fit for a queen. The white oak casket, bleached and polished, had gold handles and the trim was inlaid with little diamonds. Prince Topher stared numbly at the men as they carried the coffin down the church steps. He'd hoped that the investigation would bring him closure, but it didn't.
"Her name was Cinderella." The Captain of the guard said, standing solemnly next to him. "She was a housemaid in the Madame's household. When the Madame discovered that her maid had won your favor, she murdered her." Topher's empty eyes watered, and tears slid down his expressionless face. He gave a heavy sigh.
"Di-did they poison her?" He asked, his voice trembling.
"I wish it were so sire, she was bound and gagged when the men found her." The Captain replied. Bile rose up in the Prince's throat.
"They buried her… alive?" He squeeked.
"I don't see much reason to bind a dead woman." The Captain answered frankly. Their conversation was interrupted by the pall bearer's proximity. Topher walked to meet the men toting Cinderella's coffin and put up a shaking hand to halt them.
"H-ey" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it. He stood there for an awkward moment, trying to regain his voice. Mercifully, one of the lead pallbearers understood his silent command and nodded for the others to put the casket down. The Lord Protector, Sebastian, had decided it would be better if the casket were kept closed for the funeral, but Topher wanted to see his love one last time; to be sure it was really her. He opened the casket. Cinderella's body was limp and cold, her petite features glowing like starlight even in death. Slowly he got to his knees and, picking up her calloused hand, he kissed it gently. With a sad smile, Topher nodded for the men to close the lid of the coffin, and the procession continued to the hearse. Once Cinderella was loaded in the back, the people began to light their candles. One by one they flickered to life, like a thousand fireflies aroused suddenly from their hiding places. After what seemed like an eternity, the coachman urged the horses forward and they slowly trotted along the path to the churchyard. The people followed on foot, the hundreds of bare feet making wet squelching noises in the mud. Young children burned their hands trying to keep the rain out of their candle flames.
The coffin was laid to rest in the section of the graveyard that was reserved for the royal family. The grave inscripted with a sweet cliché "Gone, but never forgotten". That was Sabastian's idea. Topher looked at his feet. His throat was so thick with tears it hurt. Sebastian rested his hand on Topher's shoulder.
"Don't worry, My Lord. Soon this will all be over, and you can return to your duties." Topher's legs gave out and he fell to his knees, sobbing.
"Sweet rest, dear Cinderella." He choked, "May you be content to play kindness with the Angels."