Ella: I am my own person, but I do belong in the head of GAIL CARSON LEVINE, NOT YOU!
Char sat in the front pew, feeling bored. No, it was not that he disliked Lady Eleanor, but the whole funeral was conducted in such a boring and formal sense that, had she been here, she would have made another joke out of the High Chancellor, he mused while trying to look apologetic for the family.
The chancellor stopped speaking, and it was time for the ending of the funeral, with the closing of the casket, saying goodbye to Lady Eleanor forever on this Earth. He saw, as if in a trance, a beautiful young maiden pushed forward by Sir Peter, the mercenary father, stumble forward and slide the lid down slowly. As the magnificent lid shut close with a click, the girl started crying, not like the fake tears the ladies in court cry, but a real cry, one he remembered indulging in once also, when his father had told him at the age of seven that he was unfit for the throne and he never was going to give up his crown to him. He had wept bitterly and shed many a tear that rainy afternoon.
Char saw her father pull her to him and the girl ran away immediately out to the doors of the church and beyond, still wailing all the way. He absently stood up, and made to follow her. It was over anyway, and everyone was standing up to leave. Catching her father's eye, he motioned that he would bring her back, and Sir Peter nodded his thanks.
Outside, he walked towards the cemetery, and followed the sounds of crying to an old beech tree that was gnarled and wrinkled with age. He felt disorientated, how did one talk to someone who just lost her mother? Coughing, he motioned slightly and embarrassedly towards a tombstone, saying, a bit too loudly, "Cousin of mine. Never liked him. I liked your mother," he turned back, hiding his blush at being so blatantly rude, but the girl followed him, and walked with him, if you could count being so far away that you couldn't even see her features clearly walking with him. He closed the distance and they walked along, back to the church, to her father and the carriage.
Looking back at the scene in the castle, he felt stupid and awkward, while recalling her beauty and grace and honesty with something that could only be admiration. She was beautiful, no doubt of that, but there was something more, something in her that made him want to know her more and be good friends with her, with Ella.
A/N: Ok, so what do you guys think? This is my first really long story, and I'm not sure if it's good. Constructive critism welcome! Just no flaming please! I don't care, but sometimes there's just that straw that breaks the camel's back! LOL!