If You Feel Better

Chapter 7

"My pharaoh, the queen's funerary preparations are already underway," Priest Seto explained. "But we must know what you would like to do with Princess Aya regarding the procession."

The pharaoh sat on his throne, listening to his priests' plans for the burial of his burned queen. It had only been two days after Queen Alda's death and Aya had not gotten over the shock of it all. His normally vibrant, willful daughter had barely said any words, cried endless tears, and did almost nothing besides lay in bed all day.

He had not been able to mourn himself. One of the curses of being charged as pharaoh is dealing with the political, public, and personal aftermath of the events that occurred as quickly and with as minimal damage as possible. He needed to keep the populace calm, remain just as powerful, and handle personal affairs in private. Only then could he mourn.

"You worked hard to protect the princess from being discovered," Priest Shada spoke. "And aside from those in the palace, Bakura is the only one who also knows. However, the people know something has happened and they will want an explanation."

"And it is her mother," Seto carried on. "We can't just expect her to not participate in her own mother's funeral procession. But that will mean acknowledging that she exists to the public. How would you like to handle this, Pharaoh?"

The pharaoh thought for a moment, a solemn expression overtaking his face. He had wanted to protect his daughter from the outside world, but clearly that had failed. Yes, she had gone out against his will, but he could understand her strong desire to do so. He sighed sadly and announced "There's no need to hide her anymore. She can attend the funeral procession as any princess would."

~

Aya floated on her back, staring up at the sky. Mother, she thought. Are you up there? She was in the palace garden, drifting in the manmade pool, drowning out her traumatic experience with soothing silence. The pool wasn't exactly made for swimming; it was more for decoration, but she wanted the sensory deprivation the water provided to meditate on life.

Mother, are you watching over me? she silently called out to the clouds. Can you hear me? Only the sound of tiny ripples in the pool sailing past her ears responded to her inaudible question. If you can hear me, I want you to know that I'm sorry. A tear rolled down her face, joining the rest of the water surrounding her. If I hadn't gone out so much, you wouldn't be dead right now. I know you wouldn't want me to blame myself or be sad. And one day, I won't, but right now I can't help but tell myself that I could've saved you. I love you, mother. If you're watching over me, I hope I make you proud.

Pharaoh Atem walked into the garden, stopping midstride when he found his daughter floating in the pool. "Aya!" he called, walking over to her.

Aya's sense of hearing was dampened by the water, but she could still hear a voice, unable to tell who it actually was. She sat up in the pool, the heavy water pulling her back down, cascading like a waterfall off her hair. Behind her she saw her father. He looked tired, drained, and in great need of sleep.

"Father," she said somberly. "What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be discussing the funeral with the priests?"

"We're already done discussing," he stated, not sounding totally present. "Why're you in the pool?"

Aya shrugged, sitting on the floor of the pool. It was only a couple feet deep, allowing her to keep half her body submerged while the remainder stayed above. "The water's soothing," she explained. "It helps me take my mind off things."

The pharaoh normally would've argued further, but he knew that Aya was suffering nor did he have to energy to fight such an insignificant battle. "You're going to join in your mother's funeral procession," he said. "It wouldn't be right for me to exclude you from something like that."