Page 7 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER FOUR

brEYLA

A nother day, another funeral pyre. I’ve lit so many in such a short time. Now, I was preparing to light another.

A soft knock pulls me from my thoughts, the door creaking open.

“Can I help you dress?” Ophelia asks softly. She’s dressed in a black, long-sleeved, velvet gown. Her raven strands hang in loose curls around her face, bouncing slightly with each step.

I nod, and the door clicks shut behind her.

“I don’t know what to wear,” I admit as she joins me at the wardrobe. A black silk robe is all that covers me as I stare into the oak armoire, overflowing with options that all feel wrong.

“Why wouldn’t you wear your leathers as you did for the others?”

“We wear leathers for fallen soldiers. I was acting as the General then.” I pause, voice cracking. “My mother was not a soldier. And I’m not just attending as a general today. I-I’m…” I choke on the words my mouth refuses to utter.

Ophelia, ever perceptive, nods in understanding. “So what are you feeling?”

I know she’s referring to clothes, but the truth escapes me. “I feel broken. Weak.”

Her expression hardens. She turns me to face her, her storm-gray eyes searching mine. “You are not broken, Breyla. Nor are you weak; never have been.”

Her bottom lip quivers as tears pool in the corner of her eyes. The words are as much for her as they are for me.

“I’m sorry, O,” I whisper. “Somehow I manage to forget I’m not the only one saying goodbye today.”

I pull her into a tight embrace. She melts into me, and for several long moments, we hold one another. Two females fighting to hold back the tide of grief.

Then, gently pulling away, she wipes her eyes. “Okay. Let’s find you something that shows them all you’re not broken.”

“Mother would have wanted me to wear a dress. I hate dresses.” I run my fingers along a few options, none of them appropriate for a funeral.

Ophelia stops in her perusal, her eyes widening. “This one. It’s exactly what you need today.”

She pulls the garment out for me to examine and my eyes rove over the unfamiliar item. “I don’t recognize this. It’s not one I’ve ever worn before.”

It’s black with a fitted corset top, modest V-neckline, thick straps, but no sleeves.

Running my fingers down it, I realize the material isn’t one that is typically used for dresses; it’s eerily similar to those used for fighting leathers.

It’s softer, but it’s no t silk or wool.

The real draw of this dress is the hemline, though.

It falls long in the back but tapers up and cuts just above the knees in the front.

Deep crimson satin lines the inside of the skirt.

“It was made for you. It had to be.”

“Help me put it on.” I untie the robe, letting it fall to the floor at my feet.

The dress slips on with ease, perfectly hugging every curve.

Ophelia’s adept hands quickly lace the bodice, and I savor the feeling of the material on my skin.

It provides the familiar comfort of my leathers but satisfies the image I need to portray.

The higher hem in the front still allows me the freedom to move about should a threat arise.

“You were meant to wear this dress, Breyla.”

I pull my thigh holster on, slipping a dagger in.

The level of the gown hits perfectly to keep it hidden.

“Whoever made this dress clearly knew who they were creating it for.” Ophelia hands me the slim dagger I frequently keep in the front of my bodice, and I slip it into place.

I’m stunned to find a pocket sewn into the lining, a perfect fit for the blade.

Taking a seat in front of my vanity, I let Ophelia brush out my gold-streaked copper tresses. In a matter of minutes, she has it tamed into soft waves that frame my pale face. She completes the look by placing the usual gold and ruby crown atop my head.

Laying a petite hand on my shoulder, she leans down and meets my eyes in the mirror. “We’ve got this, Your Majesty.”

I lay my hand on hers and muster a smile. “Yes, we do.”

Elijah’s eyes widen when he takes us in. “Is it in poor taste to whistle at my two favorite females looking as beautiful as you do for a funeral?”

“Probably, but I would expect nothing less from you,” I tease. For just a moment, Elijah’s humor breaks through the fog of grief that hangs low over me. He’s always had a way of making me laugh when I shouldn’t.

We’re standing at the castle door, watching as people gather round the pyres. He pulls each of us into him, laying a kiss on our cheeks.

Ophelia lets out a giggle as he kisses down her neck playfully. He whispers something I can’t hear that has her blushing.

“Well, in that case. You both look absolutely devastating.” He gives us a smile I know is hiding his own pain.

The three of us stand arm in arm, watching the crowd gather for the funerals today.

“We’re all three orphans now,” I point out.

“No, we’re not,” Elijah says confidently. “Because we still have each other. Our parents may be gone, but with you around, I never feel alone.”

My heart swells at the outpouring of love I feel from him. “I love you, E.”

“I love you too, B,” he says, squeezing both of us tighter.

We make the short walk out to the courtyard, where it feels like the whole kingdom awaits.

I come to a stop in front of my mother’s pyre, her preserved body lying atop the wood, giving the illusion that she’s simply sleeping and not dead.

My mind plays tricks on me, and I swear her chest moves.

I’m reminded of the scene that haunts me every time I shut my eyes—the steady rise and fall of her cooling body.

Shaking my head, I blink several times to clear the image.

Elijah and Ophelia stand to my right, closer to Layne’s pyre.

Lord Seamus’ pyre is further down, but no one gathers round it.

His burning is simply because that’s how we dispose of the dead.

He will receive no final words, no honors, no recognition at all for the male who was the death of so many innocents.

To my left stands Prince Ayden, Aurelius lingering closely next to him, a look of pure annoyance on his face.

Ayden leans in and murmurs, “The combined colors of House Mordet and House Rozaria look so natural on you, darling.”

“Did you know there is a spider native to Lennox that is all black except for a red diamond on its back?” My question has Ayden tilting his head, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s one of the deadliest creatures in existence. But it’s not just their venom that makes it so. The females are known for killing the males after they’ve mated. They’re beautifully lethal little things.”

My words leave him silent, and Aurelius’ lips tilt in a subtle smirk next to us. I make eye contact with him, and his eyes trail up and down my body.

“It’s often the most beautiful creatures that are the most dangerous,” Aurelius says, his eyes full of heat.

I break eye contact before it can go any further, turning my attention to the crowd gathered.

Clearing my throat, I deliver what I hope is the last eulogy I’ll have to give for a very long time.

“Thank you all for being here. I must be honest and say I am so godsdamned tired of giving eulogies.” That gains me a few chuckles, but more gasps.

“How do you really summarize someone’s life or what they meant to you in just a few minutes?

I don’t really think you can. But I’m willing to give it another try.

” Elijah squeezes my hand reassuringly. “Today we bid farewell to Queen Genevieve Rozaria, but to many of us, to me, she was so much more than her title. She was mother, protector, and friend.

My hands tremble, and it’s a fight to keep my voice steady as I continue.

“I have never known another soul as fiercely loyal as she was. She loved this kingdom and all its inhabitants. Until the very end, she always did her best to put her people first. I never imagined I would lose both my parents so early in life, but I take solace knowing they both lived lives filled with love, and joy, and passion. My hope would be that I could someday live a life like they had—and that I can one day live up to the example they set for me.”

“From your first breath until your very last, may the gods grant you peace.”

The crowd murmurs my words back to me, and I retreat a step.

Ophelia comes forward, taking a deep breath. Having not known Layne well, I offered her the option to deliver his final words. She had accepted, despite being nervous about speaking in front of that many people.

“My brother, Layne, was the only family I had who really cared for me. He was my best friend, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without him.

” She twists her fingers, rubbing her palms softly.

“Before Layne’s Gift manifested, anyone could have told you that he would have the Empathi Gift.

He was one of the most caring and compassionate individuals I have ever met, but he excelled at knowing exactly what a person would need before they even knew it themselves.

He was always bringing me trinkets and gifts from his travels, and he always knew when I needed him. ”

Ophelia smiles softly, her eyes distant as if lost in memory. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I say that all to try and explain what a genuine and kind soul the world is now missing. It will never feel complete without you, brother. I’ll meet you in Amara,” she finishes, a morose look in her eyes.

I take a step forward, unlit torch in hand. Turning, I gasp at the realization that I was looking for my mother to light the torch. For years, her magic was all I’d needed to light the pyres. And now I have no one—just a useless, unlit piece of wood.

My chest tightens, and my eyes sting as I fight back the tears and the reality of the situation.

I look around, catching both Aurelius’ and Ayden’s eyes as I start to panic. “I don’t?—”