The King Trials 2: Beyond.

~A Plethora of Wonders~

 It is time to send Solaris home.

Before dawn awakened. I am already bathed and dressed only to find Solaris's cloak with my belongings. I forgot that he had lent it to me when we were seaborne. I wear it over a black gown overlaid with a mesh of lace. The cloak still smells like him, his stubborn scent remains, a slither of him lingering. With the hood drawn, Greer accompanies me. Kelan called her back and ordered her to observe me closely in his absence. 

We travel to the front courtyard near the Gatehouse where the colossal gates are opened, and the portcullis is raised. Between each spaced stone pillar are the distinct groups. On the opposite side is the Adons, all the military officials and their guards. On our side, it's Primus Kelan and the entire squadron along with Duce Merian. I align myself with the assembled Herems, their attendants far-flung.

Soon a percussion of clomping hooves sounds. Two rows of mix-breed stallions make their way towards the opened entrance. The horses are brought to a halt when the attached, topless wagon pauses right in front of us. Perched on top of it is a six-sided, hexagonal coffin crafted of furnished wood with an honorary shroud wrapped over it.

Hot tears scald my cheeks.

The coachman's whip cracks before the horses begin their march. The wagon lurches forward and trundles away, passing through the gateway, receding with the distance, going further and further away. But he is already far gone. Sniffling, I wipe away my tears with gloved hands.

The Adons and officials abscond, their guards follow. I move to leave, but I lock eyes with Markiveus. And a look of burning hatred melts away his mask of grief.

"Why are you even here?"

"What kind of question is that?" Treyton snaps.

"The kind that needs answering." He stiffly raises his shoulders. "I never knew of murders that attend their own victim's funereal. Killer's remorse?" He scoffs indignantly. "As if you have any."

"This was not even his funeral," Vince states.

"That is beside the point." He slinks away from them and steps towards me. "And I am sick of you both defending her. Nothing excuses the atrocities that she has committed, taking us out one by one. People think that the Ulris is the greatest threat. They are wrong. I am staring right at it. Am I wrong?"

I glance at Treyton, and he remains silent, averting my gaze. Brennon regards me with the same measure of loathing as Markiveus.

I blink, revolving. I stride away, accelerating my pace with Greer at my rear.

"Why such haste?" He exclaims. "You can never outrun what you have done!"

I round a corner, out of view. I flatten myself against the wall only to drop forward, my hands clutching my knees, my head hung in abysmal ignominy. I regulate my laboured breathing, trying to dissolve the fog in my mind.

"Hera, Aurora?" She bends over to search for my eyes. "Are you alright, do you require medical attention?"

My lips part, a shuddering breath escapes. "No."

I straighten and continue onwards. The armchair I demolished has been  replaced with another, the debris collected, floors swept clean. All the evidence of my unravelling has been removed. I move to sit myself on the duplicate armchair, adjacent to the one with the parchment and the hardboard still on it.

"Shall I light a fire?"

I shake my head, staring absently into the deceased hearth.

"What about something warm to drink then?"