Klaia Batellia

Two Months Ago

Avala, Crecana

Klaia adjusted the black veil over her face, hoping it would hide her red eyes. Her hair was pulled back in braids, looping around before settling in a bun. She pulled softly at the high collar, feeling like it was going to swallow her whole. She could hear Illia and Hayrat fluttering behind her, unsure.

"You look beautiful, your highness," Hayrat eventually murmurs.

"Beautiful is the last thing I wish to be at this time," Klaia says, fingers clenching the blackness of her gown.

"Of course your highness," Illia murmurs, stepping forward to brush her cheek through the veil, "You have every right to be upset, to mourn." Quickly, she kisses her forehead in a near motherly form of affection, before stepping back. "We should get going princess."

Klaia nodded, willing tears to stay back. Hayrat opens the door, face pulled taught in grief as Klaia steps out into the hall. The castle is silent. The start of the spring melt always causes the rocks to condense with water, but today, even the walls cried. Her shoes clicked softly on the floors, echoing throughout the castle. As she passed, servants and workers bowed, all decorated in black.

The procession is waiting at the large doors indicating the main entrance to the castle. Her father and mother sit in the back part of the carriage, on either side of the coffin.

Silently, Klaia joins her brother, Keku, and the two stand behind the carriage, staring at the coffin of Inan. Klaia chokes, hand reaching up to her mouth to stop the cry. The fact that the universe wouldn't even give them the peace to have a body to bury wells tears up in her eyes.

It can't be real. But it is.

The doors open, and Klaia can feel her feet moving forward, but everything is fuzzy. It seems all she can do is stare at the coffin, empty, as it clatters ahead of her. She knows there are crowds, the people of Crecana had flooded into the capitol to pay their respects, but she can't seem to acknowledge them. The walk is long, and she knows her feet should be hurting, but her body is numb. It is only when the procession slows that any feeling reenters her body. The cathedral looms overhead, and for once, Klaia just wants to run. The sobbing of those who line the streets hits her ears like a tidal wave, and suddenly, it is like a switch is flipped. Everything is too much, every noise, sniffle, cry. The rolling of the wheels along the cobblestone. Klaia reaches for Keku's hand, who grabs it softly.

Inan's coffin is unloaded, and Klaia follows. Just before she enters the cathedral, she glances backward, at the thousands and thousands of mourners on the streets. Quickly, she bows her head. Thank you for being here. For loving him.

And then she is off, sinking into the shadows.

***

The architecture of Darunnia Cathedral is the grandest of all of Crecana. Built on the site where Kharis, son of Sodes (the creator of the universe), opened the pathway from our world to the afterlife, on a large stone. Klaia always loved the cathedral. Its grand ceilings, ornate detailing along the beams, the glistening windows that showers colors across the seats. For so many years she felt safe within its walls, looked forward to her time in Darunnia. It was a privilege to visit the holiest site within Sygarian, and she treasured every moment.

Today was not one of those days. The seats were lined with Crecana's best: various lords and ladies, professors, politicians, scientists, and writers. Klaia hardly paid them any glance. When they finally reached the end of the walkway, Klaia felt her heart clog her throat. The polished stones that made up the floors of Darunnia had been moved, indicating Inan's gravesite at the foot of the large center stone. The mourners sat, though the royal family remained standing, a common tradition of families during funerals in Crecana.

Klaia knew the priest must have been talking, knew that proceedings must have been happening, but nothing registered. All she could see what Inan's empty coffin slowly lifted into the grave, the first spring petals spread over the top. This time, she couldn't stop the tears. They rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto the length of her skirt. Her eyes burned.

There was a prayer, murmuring from the crowd, and then the scraping of the stones as they slide into place, sealing Inan's coffin into its final resting place. Then, as the final touches were set on the ceremony, the crowd broke place and descended upon the family.

Someone bowed before Klaia, though she cared little to notice. It was only a kiss on her gloved fingertips that drew her attention back from nowhere.

"Your highness," a man said, bowing at the waist once more, "I am so truly sorry for your loss. The kingdom mourns the loss of Crown Prince Inan."

Klaia nodded once, but before she could turn to leave, she felt her hand grabbed, "What do you want," she choked out.

The man startled slightly, "Princess, your coming of age ceremony is happening in a month, and I wanted to tell you I would be there."

All of the pain and grief of the last week snapped at that moment, sizzling up through Klaia. She yanked her hand back, eyes flashing with anger behind the veil. "So you thought it would be appropriate to approach me about your intended proposal for my hand in marriage at my brother's funeral!" she sneered, "What an utter disgrace."

The man spluttered, lost for words. Klaia twisted, and stalked out of the cathedral, exiting through a backdoor, and racing up the hillside. The ground was still half frozen, causing mud to cake her shoes. Water seeped into her socks, freezing her toes. The grassy side of the mountain fluttered softly in the breeze, cooled from the fjord down below. Here, everything was quiet. Klaia stopped running, breath heaving. She ripped the veil from her hair, and stood, staring out across the fjord, watching the city move below her.

Finally, she was alone. She sank down to the grass below, letting her knees fall into the partially frozen ground. And finally, she cried. Cried for her brother. Cried for never getting to put him to rest properly. Cried because everything had changed. Because Keku was colder, snagged by her father's hand. Because her mother merely looked miffed at the loss of her eldest child. Cried because Darunnia had stopped becoming home years ago. Because she couldn't stomach marrying a man. Because everything was wrong.