Chapter 2: The Funeral
News of the Prince's birth quickly spread. The King was in his office, still focused on the assassination when he received the news. Quickly, any fury or violence flowing through him was quelled as he rushed to the West Wing to meet his son.
The child was pink and tender, much smaller than the princesses born to him in the past. "Your Majesty mustn't worry. The Prince is healthy. When he left his mother's womb, his cries were strong," the Concubine's head maid insisted.
The King nodded as if he understood. It was the first time he had held a newborn. Typically, a man will wait until the first month before doing so. He must have not remembered the usual size.
"How is Concubine Leena doing?" The King asked after a while.
"My Concubine had fallen asleep right after the birth. She require's a long bed rest. Unfortunately, she had… not been able to see His Highness yet," the Head Maid hesitated.
"And Lady Valerie? My brother must have great news as well." The King's older brother, the only one with whom he shared full blood with, had been stationed on the border for several months, entrusting him with his Princess to be. The child born to them may not be as important as the one in his arms, but good news may greatly induce morale into the Northern Army.
At this question, the Head Maid as well as the three little servants behind her dropped to their knees, banging their heads to the ground. "This servant sincerely apologizes, Your Majesty. It seems that the child in milady's stomach was not able to survive. It is unsure whether the cause was the medicine that had been used to induce labor or because the child was born premature."
Following her explanation, the three maids behind also expressed, "Servants apologize, Your Majesty. The servants deserve death."
The air surrounding the King fell heavy again.. No one outside the hall spoke. Even the blackbirds kept their beaks shut. He watched the scene quietly as he realized all too quickly that the loss could have been his son.
The brother's child's death was just another reminder of how precarious the country is. Whoever dared to try to kill the King's child was dissatisfied with him. One after another, disasters happen and the government must quell them. The treasury was lined thin enough from his father's reign and that was because most pleas for aid had gone ignored.
And unfortunately, the King could understand. The war in the North, disasters in the south. Enemies on the east and Bandits on the west. In maybe a year's time, the situation could easily be reversed. In his mind, he had done enough. Yet, many don't believe it is enough. And now, his son…
The emperor was thinking of the many enemies who might have instigated the plot against his prince's life when the sound of a baby's grunts broke the silence.
Looking down to his son's tiny face, the King's murderous aura subsided. The little thing was barely the size of his palms. He felt as if he held the entire world in his hands again. It had been a long time since he was overwhelmed with such emotions. Even when he ascended the throne all those years ago, he wasn't as full with joy as he was now. Back then, he was bridled with fear and anxiety. He was the 10th son of the Late Majesty. Far from any hope of the throne. At most, he expected to have just managed a small territory in the outskirts and live the remainder of his life with food and drink.
Who would have known that five out of eight living princes would be killed in succession by a plague that swept the palace, one of which was the Heir Apparent? And who would have known most of the remaining sons would have fought to the bloody death for the seat he had now been sitting on for more than a decade? It had all seemed like a joke at that time. A prince of no ambitions or talent was forced to take the crown.
At this point in life, the King knew his character, strengths, and weaknesses. He also knew the world was changing. He couldn't count how many mistakes he made in the last decade alone. He believed he tried his best, but the most he'd done was keep the country together.
The world is changing. The throne must change with it. And the prince in his arms is the key to the Kingdom's life and death.
The longer the King held the baby, the deeper his eyes became. Nothing was allowed to ruin this Prince.
Speaking to the Chief Eunuch who had followed him, the King declared, "The funeral will be held in seven days. Be sure to comfort the Lady and keep the Prince away from her lest his presence further saddens her. All servants of the Harem must be investigated before they may return to their duties. Also… the Prince will be living in the West Chambers until the Harem is purged." He then glanced at the women who were still kneeling. "You are all the most entrusted maids of Concubine Esque. However, your negligence caused your master and Prince to almost die. Go down for punishment. Twenty lashes each."
The women continued to prostrate with heads banging on the marbled floors. "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
~~~
In the following days, a sea of blood bathed the walls of the punishment hall. The event was bigger than ten years ago following the First Prince's death as this time, King's anger was so great that he even had the evil crows killed with arrows tufted with their own kin's feathers. After the death of his son, the King's momentum was still being established, opposition at its peak. Now, no one dared to speak of that time, especially with blood still being scrubbed off the walls. Now, the King has grown into the throne, consolidating the powers with the exception of the two major factions in court.
Some believe this was all a conspiracy designed by the old King to prevent the future throne from being seized by a power hungry family. Killing several sons in succession didn't seem out of character for such a mad man. Indeed, worse things had occurred under his rule. Nevertheless, the past events have gone and the new events are here.
Despite the bloodshed, preparations for the unnamed prince of Hellebore were made. The death seemed ominous considering the Royal Prince shared the same birthday as the Hellebore Prince, but no one dared to speak ill lest they wish to die as well.
On the seventh day, the funeral had marched from the Great Temple where the prayers of the Holy See blessed the unnamed prince's soul to outside of the Capital City. Hundreds of officials and military personnel set off for the imperial mausoleum where only those recognized as Royal family members by His Majesty could be buried.
The promenade was observant of their behavior as there was a blend of emotions at this time. The news of a prince had most officials sighing with relief and hurriedly preparing for future affairs. On the other hand, most also believed the death of the Hellebore King's promised child was going to be a great blow to the outcome of the Northern war. As for those who still kept their faith in the Commanding General, their thoughts currently focused on praying for the child's safe ascension to the Heavenly Kingdom.
The news of the assassination of the unnamed Prince had been widely spread at this time. Such an event would be difficult to hide considering both women gave birth simultaneously.
Carried by twelve strong men, His Majesty sat on a palanquin plated with gold and painted with black lacquer. The outside was adorned with horns of a large beast and inlaid with jewels the average size of a pigeon egg. Behind him was his Queen following in a smaller yet equally majestic version. Lady Vallerie had attended the mass at the temple, however, because of her still weakened body and anguish, she fainted only a minute after seeing the coffin. As for the Prince, a newborn mustn't bear the air of death and negative energy. During the purge of the Harem, he had slept in His Majesty's Chambers. Surprisingly, the child was quiet throughout the night, making very little noise according to the servants working night-watch.
The mausoleum was guarded by statues of the Four Great Generals and a hundred sentinels behind each of them. When the procession stopped before the hundred step staircase, the chariot holding the casket of the Prince of Hellebore was opened. From within, the mournful cries of several children resounded. When no one stepped down, a pallbearer came forward to grab hold of a thick chain connecting them. Metal clanked and shrill pleas were made. However, the pallbearer seemed to have said something to quiet them because from then on, even the youngest didn't make a word. Out of the thousands of aristocratic households, these were the chosen sacrifices to be buried with the Prince of Hellebore.
Typically, at least six men were needed to carry the casket, however only two were required in this case. The remaining pallbearers surrounded the children to make sure they wouldn't resist. The six men dressed in funeral gowns followed the Keeper up the hundred steps. The six children dressed in white did the same.
And the crowd of thousands silently watched on, respecting the ritual set by their ancestors.
When the casket was no longer visible, the ministers made way for the King and returned to the city.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone