Chapter Three

Funeral

"Wendy?" I snapped out of my whirlpool of downheartedness, and looked at Willa who was standing in my closet – literally inside my closet, its size was so huge – and holding out a clothing item.

"What?" I barely uttered.

"Are you asleep? I'm asking which one you would prefer to wear." She held out two black dresses – one that was all lacy, and the second one that looked like silk. Except the material quality, both seemed pretty much of the same kind.

"This one's better." I picked out any random dress – the silk one, it apparently turned out. I would have liked to say something dull like 'I don't care' or 'choose whatever you like', but that would only make Willa more upset and cause her to fuss over my outfit all the more. Also, I did care about the event, though not enough to actually dress time-consumingly.

Willa was thinking about some creative ideas in order to make me feel better such as pressing my hair or some cool smoky eyes, but there was only one impossible thing that I knew would make me feel better. So I cut her off, somehow acting irate and uninterested in her ways to 'make me feel better'.

Today – almost a week later from the day I had conversed with Sara – was Elora's funeral. Trolls from different tribes had come to attend the funeral, and some we would even be hosting in the mansion itself in guest rooms in the north wing. I guess I was naturally expecting some dark, stormy climate and snow during the funeral, because today was just cold with low precipitation chances.

After the war, I had been kind of emotionally unstable. This had resulted in my loss of appetite, which had already been so less due to my Trylle traits that now it seemed that I went for days on just energy pills and immunity drugs, which have been suggested forcefully by a psychiatrist, who came to occasionally see me.

Also I seemed to crave for solitude and silence, wasn't left out for talking much, had difficulty concentrating or focusing much on anything, was numb and silenced, and had frequent mood swings. From acting hysterical due to something I find hilarious and then realizing that I wasn't supposed to laugh and ultimately ending up sounding loony, to wailing in trebles, I could change my mood in seconds.

Often I had this crazy mood where I would start screaming, shouting, wailing, breaking and throwing around things and ultimately dirtying myself from head to toe with water, blood, dust, ink and torn bits of paper. This wouldn't happen very often – maybe once in two days of an average – yet when it did, it took time for me to calm down slowly step-by-step and then turn back into my normal numbness.

I even had a psychiatrist on Tove's suggestion, when he thought that my condition was getting too unmanageable. But in a way, everything that was a consequence of his loss was just involuntary. Duncan, Rhys and tove seemed to be pretty patient and cooperative since my depressed state, but Matt, Willa and Finn weren't all that sensitive.

Matt began complaining and criticizing the Trylle and all trolls, blaming them for my instability. Even though I tried to make him believe even in my unstable state that the Trylle or the Vittra weren't the reason why I had become that way, he never managed to get entirely convinced by my words. Ultimately I had to use persuasion on him and put him into a dreamy, robotic manipulation, which I had later regretted so much that I had spent hours in some spare room, trashing around things in extreme frustration.

Willa seemed to think that entertainment, talking, and new things to do would keep me from thinking about the unthinkable person and the unmentionable memories, when actually anything productive to pass time with would be the last thing I would want. And usually even her ideas of entertainment seemed too fancy and princessy for me – pedicures, nail-art, dying honey highlights on my brown hair, tattooing, piercing my eyebrows, etc. – and I failed to find anything out of these that I could actually enjoy doing. But then, was there even anything left that I would actually enjoy doing?

Finn, I had thought, would understand my condition and probably be enough cooperative to help me recover from the depression; but as things turned out, he maybe understood me, but wasn't that supporting. Maybe because of jealousy that I was mourning so much for him, or because he had given up on me, he just didn't seem to be interested in me anymore.

It was like when finally he had got the opportunity when I had converted from a love triangle back to a love segment and he could easily win over me, he had chosen duty out of his options and quit on love. Now at least if I could even continue a love life with someone else after him, it turned out that Finn wasn't willing for one, and all I knew was that I had to survive being the mentally-retarded and burdened Trylle queen with a slightly scatterbrained husband (though I wasn't much clear-headed either to be making such rude comments about Tove, who had actually been quite a help in this down heartened condition of mine).

Unlike Willa, Finn and Matt, Rhys, Tove and Duncan had been much more understanding, and had probably treated me in such a way that made me feel extremely thankful to those people for doing so. Duncan would be less of a creepy lackey, and would sometimes stay out of my sight when I asked him to; he would understand when I said that I required some solitude, and this was some amazing help from his side.

For the past week, Tove had almost done every king job by himself, requiring the least help from my side – which included the peace treaty between Trylle and Vittra, some other functions and ceremonies, accommodating the other foreign troll guests, controlling of trackers and changelings, etc. and indeed it was a very big help. In fact, he also appointed markis Bain as the new chancellor.

It was only the peace treaty day where I had to make an appearance in public and read out a speech – which was though numb and emotionless, still not terrible. Tove was also the one who had decided that I required a psychiatrist to aid my increasingly terrifying conditions, and when everyone else had agreed with his idea, I was stuck with a psychiatrist coming to meet me occasionally and check on my diet, behavior, mood and physical condition.

At first having the psychiatrist was a real pain in my ass, but then I also began realizing that maybe Willa's plan could also work – if on a much lower scale. Maybe if I managed to keep myself engaged in some queen's work instead of some Willa stuff, I might actually start recovering from my depressive states, and gradually he wouldn't torment me to such an extent anymore.

My expectations were pretty high, but at least I made some slight efforts to participate as the Trylle queen and not act like some disappeared case (the common Trylle weren't very well aware of my psychopathic instability). I decided to get on to typing invites for the Kanin and the Omte for Elora's funeral, customize the funeral decorations like the types of flowers, décor, coffin and gravestone.

For one and a half day, I actually did quite well; my psychiatrist seemed pleased with my efforts, Tove was happy to have back someone to help him in the official ruling stuff, Matt was literally crying seeing my recovery, and Willa went around overreacting too much at my work (which the psychiatrist put a stop at, saying that she was being too insensitive and that I might feel self-conscious to her reactions).

But once when Elora's former assistant Joss (currently my personal secretary) was reading out to me the list of people whose' funeral is to be held just two days after Elora's one, and she read out his name, and that set me out of control. I had immediately run to the bathroom and sank to the floor, clutching my temples, and trying to excrete out vomit even when there was nothing left in my loose organ sack of a stomach.

I had stayed that way for about two more hours, torturing myself at just hearing his name, and then finally exited somewhere late night. My conditions had worsened after my improvement after this incident, but then the psychiatrist probably spread a word to everyone not to mention some particular things in front of me and not to act weirdly in front of me, so after some more days when I finally decided that I couldn't skip Elora's funeral, I realized that no one was in the verge of mentioning the unmentionable him.

The funeral went quite well, if I didn't know better. We had all gathered in some large open garden, that had been decorated with artistic pillars that hoisted white roses (ultimately that was the floral décor I had decided for her funeral, thinking they'd look good with the faint snow). I knew it was Elora's funeral, but somehow I couldn't get my mind off him; even during the sermons, the crying part, the high-tea, I remained silent and numb.

I must have cried, but hardly realized that I did; my body was too much in the depth of different kinds of thoughts, and it was only when Willa came up to embrace me in a hug, that I realized that some tears had trickled down my face.

There were the Kanin and the Omte troll tribes, whom I had to admit were quite different from the Trylle, though they still were trolls. I had to address the foreign trolls with a speech, which I did properly, and had another speech to give being Elora's daughter and successor to the throne, which I thought would have had more effect if I showed some vocal emotion and started sniffing and sobbing while talking about her.

Inside the mansion, there were snacks and beverages being served, and though I was not interested in one, Tove whispered in my ear, saying not to stand there in front of everyone blunt and emotionless, and that I either have some food, talk to some people or do anything.

On his advice, I took some wine and went around, pretending to drink from the glass. I expected the people around me to be a blur, but I could clearly see each face. I noticed Kenna, the marksinna from Oslinna who had called us for help when I and some others had gone to Oslinna for recovery. She smiled at me, first excitedly and then turned meeker, thinking that this was a sad funeral and she shouldn't be smiling.

I just looked at her, and without a nod or smile, went away to wander around Elora's coffin; but Kenna caught up with me some seconds later, with a man and a woman along with her.

"Your majesty," said Kenna, trying not to sound too smiley or excited. "These are the rulers of Oslinna."

The man and woman both bowed, and the male took my hand and kissed it. I flinched, trying not to let the different other memories of kisses haunt me at this important moment.

The man spoke "It is indeed a privilege to meet someone as great and as powerful as you, who has assassinated the last pure-blooded Vittra, and brought both our compounds – Forening and Oslinna – into safety."

I nodded, and said due to politeness and a good impression. "My pleasure."

The woman smiled a little, and said "Your Majesty, we have got a gift for you, which we hope you would find valuable."

"Of course" I almost mumbled.

The man presented a small gift box, wrapped neatly in a white paper, and further decorated with gold ribbons, whose ends fell down in curls. "It is a bracelet that has been charmed with psychologically healing qualities. It is different from physically healing from wounds and injuries, since this can heal your brain when under instability, pressure, tension or used to heal the aftermath of using too much of your Trylle abilities."

At first I raged up slightly, wondering if someone had spread my instability rumors up to such an extent that even the Oslinna rulers were gifting me things to recover from my depression. But after his next sentences, I understood what he meant.

"The most common use of this comes when the brain gets affected and disturbed due to the excess usage of the Trylle abilities, and at that point, this bracelet can be used to heal the brain. Mind you, Your Majesty, this doesn't heal the body, but the brain. You can use this bracelet as a supernatural drug when trying to calm your brain from its disturbances."

"How did you know so much about the bracelet?" I asked rather stupidly. I was a bit disappointed, learning that I could only heal my brain and not someone else's death using this gift, but maybe people would have lesser problems if I stabled back again rather than I made someone rise from the death.

"I made it." the man seemed proud. "My talents work in a way that I can psychologically make people calmer and heal their brain when they are disturbed, unstable or unsettled. Transferring these Trylle qualities to a simple ornament and presenting it to you would be a very hand-made gift from my side, in order to thank you for being such a help to both Oslinna and the Trylle."

"I appreciate your concern for coming to attend my mother's funeral and gifting me something so beautiful. It's an honor."