1866-06-02: Vigils
Vigils
Summary: The Queen visits the Vigils being held after the events of the Peace Ball.
Date: 06/02/1866
Related: The Peace Ball
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Henric  Melisande  Xavier  

The sun set and then rose. Duke Xavier Arkanin stood in his full ceremonial armor. Hands clasped around the greatsword’s hilt that had been driven into the ground. No new tears had been shed for hours. The grief. The pain. Of loosing both his wife and his eldest son burned deeply. Every breath he took was a struggle. Every thought drifted to them, and how they horrifically died. The One shelter and guide them, nobody deserved to die before their time. Especially not his son. He only wished he could stand vigil for his son, as he was doing for his beloved. He closed his eyes and felt the hot wetness welling in them once again.

“Your Grace. If I may ask an important question?” The voice that was added to the evening was full of emotion. Oh certainly she tried to hide, but the voice had it. He didn’t turn to face it, he didn’t move from his vigil. He thought seriously about ignoring it, however one does not ignore one’s Queen.

He knew what she wanted to know. So he saved her the breath, she was grieving just as he was. “Your Highness. I wanted power. I held back at Haron and let the Betrayer march in hoping he would die for the wounds he inflicted on our home. I did so hoping my House could take power form him and gain it for ourselves.” He pauses at the admission. “I know swear to you, by all that the One can gift me in breath and strength, House Arkanin will pour from the North and kill every Thorn. They killed my son. They killed my wife. They gravely wounded my precious daughter.” The tears fell from his eyes unbidden. “I will take from them everything or I will die. Either is well. If I kill them all Vengeance has been done. If I die, then I will be with my wife in the Halls of the Sun.”

There is a long pause. When the Queen speaks next, her voice is full of understanding. “The Crown thanks you Your Grace. And I, the woman, thank you. I leave you to your Vigil.”

Duke Xavier Arkanin didn’t acknowledge. He was performing a Vigil, and he would see that his wife’s soul made it to the Kingdom of the Sun in the hope that he could find her there someday.

Melisande Romante, the Rose Queen of Galenthia walked through the halls of Castle Bellmore having just left the Duke Arkanin. She knew where she was going, and why she was going, and every fiber of her being wanted to weep. To weep and cry, and scream and rage. She was also tired. So very tired. Her arm was sore, but the stitches held firm, and her rib ached. The Healers assured her nothing was broken, her armored corset had absorbed most of the blow, but by the One it was bruised and painful.

She stopped in front of the door and looked at the Cassomir Guards who stood there. She knew she should be cross with them, all of the Cassomir Guards who had charged after the fleeing Aequorans, but truthfully she wanted them all dead in that instant. She was glad her Queenly self had won out, as Cynthia certainly had nothing to do with the events, but in that instant… she would have killed them all herself.

Instead she took a deep breath. Steadied herself and said very firmly, “Let me in.” The three words were firm and filled with command. The guards opened the door and the Queen stepped in. Her eyes went first to the woman lying there. Bold. Powerful and pretty in her own way. She had been full of life and mischief, and promised to be a welcome addition to the kingdom as a Countess. She moved her gaze and the eyes stopped. On Jaren. Her Jaren. Her beloved Champion. Alphard had answered his question, and had robbed her of the one thing she loved more than any other. Her eyes immediately filled with tears.

For the first time in her life she didn’t hide them and a choked sob escaped her throat. She went forward and threw her arms around Jaren and cried into his armored shoulder. Her eyes pouring tears and sobbing openly. A confused voice interrupts her from behind with a soft, “Majesty?”

Melisande didn’t compose herself, she turned and looked at the Cassomir Knight – No, the Viscount fo Cassomir standing Vigil for his brother and sister. She clears her throat to try and speak, but all that comes is choking sobs. Wordlessly she threw herself at the knight and cried. Burying her face against him and wailing into his armor to try and muffle the cries. No words are spoken, but an arm enfolds her, keeping his blade, away from her less she cut herself… less he does.

And for the first time since she became Queen, Melisande allowed herself to show her emotions and cried, and wept in the company of somebody she viewed as family even before the betrothal, and over the shared grief of their love of the Queen’s Champion. She left a few hours later, kissing Henric on the cheek, and giving Jaren one final kiss. She removed a ribbon and draped it around her love’s wrist, and then left.

She had to be a Queen once more.

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