Chapter 48: Chapter 48

Langrion opened his heavy eyes. It felt like they wanted to remain shut against the midday sun, but he forced them to stay awake. His body ached all over, and his muscles felt too heavy and too weak to even roll over. He had to inch himself several times just to be able to do this.

After some time, when the sleepiness that had taken over his mortal form had ebbed a little, he found himself sprawled amidst a haystack. He felt around his face too and was relieved to see that his mask was still on him.

‘Why am I here?’ Langrion asked himself, dumbfounded. The last thing that he remembered was being at the maze garden of Sensala’s Grand Pavilion, and he was running around looking for Shia.

‘My Shia,’ he remembered quickly. Rogue cursed ones had made a sudden attack at the grand pavilion. He, Khailis, and Shia were in the middle of chasing one particular rogue when he was taken over by an outpour of emotions as he clutched Shia firmly in his arms when he had sensed that she was once again trying to avoid him. He thought that he could make things right with her if he just confessed what he truly felt, but she had broken away from his clasp completely...

Langrion searched within the hidden pocket of his once white suit which was now covered in grime and took out the signet ring that Shia had returned to him. Yesterday was not a dream. Everything did happen. Shia had finally broken his engagement with him, and with it, she took away part of his heart.

He staggered to stand amidst the dust and hay of what looked like a farmhouse. What was done was done – he cannot possibly undo it, but he is not giving up on her either. Shia had still promised to stay by his side until his curse was lifted. So long as she remains, he will have a chance to convince her to stay forever and become his real bride.

The smell of charred wood and burnt articles lay heavily in the air. How on earth did he get to this place? The last thing he could remember was hearing a somewhat familiar, maniacal voice...

“We meet again... A-grade...”

The previous time someone referred to him in that title was when he was out in the woods in Ylann on the day he tried to rescue Shia. The leader of the thieves that had held them captive had a guttural, high pitch voice that was hard to forget. Did he really hear him speak last night? If so, why did he abandon him here? He was so hell bent in taking an A-grade like him, Langrion doubted that he would pass on the opportunity to capture him and demand ransom from the king and the Capitol.

However, here he was, alone in a seemingly newly-burnt and recently abandoned village. He had circled the place three times now, and he did not see a single soul in sight. What the hell could have happened to him, and why was he here?

Suddenly, he heard the sound of hooves coming closer. He ran into the direction of it, and sure enough, he spotted around three riders bearing the Imperial flag. In the midst of it was one particular knight he had never been so glad to see.

“Your majesty!” Khailis said, her face all washed up with relief when he emerged from the backside of a burned hut. “Your majesty, we have been looking everywhere for you! Where have you been? Why were you here?”

“That’s a question I wanted to ask myself too,” he replied.

By now, Khailis had long gotten down from her horse and had walked a little bit alongside with him. She took a quick scan of his body from head to toe before she spoke again.

“You disappeared in the pavilion! Everybody was so worried. The king ordered us to look around and inspect the nearby villages, but you weren’t in any of those. Good thing we went here!”

“Here? Where are we by the way?” Langrion asked. He wanted to tell his Second-in-Command about his recollection of what took place, but he did not trust the guards that came with her. They would probably report even the tiniest morsel of information they could hear back to their king.

“We are here in Leer.”

Langrion’s eyebrow shot in the air. Leer was a small village at the south-western part of Sensala. This place was almost near the borders of the Capitol, and it would have taken almost three hours to get there by horse if they rode nonstop from the pavilion. Whoever had transported him here would have had some form of aid since they would have to pass by the gates leading away from Sensala.

“Where’s your horse, your higness? Don’t tell me you got here on foot?” she said, somewhat exasperated.

“You could say that...” Langrion said. One of the guards offered him the reign of his horse, and he took it by hand.

“What happened last night? Where’s Shia?” he began to ask Khailis. She seemed to have turned pale with the mere mention of his beloved’s name.

“I-I wanted to come and find you sooner to tell you what had happened, sire... Shia’s grandmother, Duchess Tristal... She’s dead!”

It was all that Langrion needed to hear. He spurred the horse to run as fast as it could towards Sensala to where Shia would most likely be.

******************

Shia could not believe what had just happened overnight. Her grandmother was dead! She remembered the last time she spoke to her at the carriage and the words of advice she had given her.

“My Shia... Know that in everything you do, I shall always be there beside you.”

She covered her face in the palm of her hands and cried uncontrollably. How could the gods do this to her? They had already taken her whole family away from her. How can they take away the only other person she had left?

The baroness had showed her a plain, black dress, and she simply nodded in agreement. She did not want to dress up for the occasion, but she had to. She was the only one who could say her final farewell to her grandmother and light her funeral pyre as her closest blood relative.

Once she had finished donning on the dress for the funeral, Shia proceeded to walk towards the wide, open spaces of the Littman Manor where the funeral pyre will soon be held. Night time was already setting in fast. The whole day had been wasted away as she, Baroness Alessa, and the servants of the house made preparations for the duchess’ burial. As per tradition, they needed to start her funeral pyre at twilight and it must commence at the stroke of midnight tonight, and Shia must be the only one to do all of these.

Her heart felt as heavy as a rock. It was only a few hours ago when she had last spotted her grandmother at the party. She looked breathtaking at her purple gown. She had caught a short glimpse of her walking away from the crowd, and she even thought that the king was following suit. It was therefore a great a shock for Shia to hear that she was spotted by the servants this morning in her own bedroom, sprawled in bed on an apparent heart attack. Her grandmother did not say her goodbyes to Baroness Alessa, so even she was surprised that the duchess would opt to go home swiftly and in such secrecy. However, everybody knew that her health wasn’t in its prime anymore. It was therefore more than likely that she had just quietly ridden away towards home so that they could enjoy themselves at the ball.

The procession of mourners had stopped a few miles away from the funeral pyre. By this time, nightfall had truly settled in. Shia took the heavy steps alone towards the place where the funeral pyre was set.

As she stepped closer to her grandmother’s body, Shia glanced at the lines that make up her face. She remembered how these lines arched beautifully in a kind smile the very first day that she saw her. She touched her now cold hands and remembered how they had enveloped her in a warm embrace as she welcomed her into the royal house of Andry.

Now, she would no longer hear her sweet voice calling her name. She won’t be able to tell her the things that ran in her mind and confess to her the feelings she had kept inside her soul for so long, especially about being a cursed one and about choosing to be with Langrion.

“What should I do now, grandma,” Shia said, unable to control her sobs. “I-I lied to you before, but now I had truly come to love Langrey... But grandma, this love is so painful and difficult... What must I do?”

She wanted her to say something back, but she knew that would never happen again. Shia stifled a cry as she proceeded to cover her body with dried twigs, branches, and leaves. She began to pour on the scented oil from the top of the mould of twigs down to where her feet were concealed by the branches. This will ensure that the fire would burn her human remains steadily throughout the funeral process. Then, when Shia was ready, she proceeded to light the pyre with a torch.

The fire spread out slowly. It was far too agonizing and difficult to watch her grandmother’s beloved body as it was being consumed by flames. Shia lowered her head and cried as the fires crackled steadily and devoured her grandmother’s body, never to return it back to her side.

After hours that stretched on like forever, she heard the clanging of bells from the temple, signifying the stroke of midnight. She knew that everyone else from the Andry household must have already been at the temple by then, participating at the overnight vigil for the safe passage of the duchess’ spirit to the Land of the Dead. This was also her sign to extinguish the funeral pyre.

After pouring on the extinguishing liquid on the pyre, Shia dragged herself back towards the old and empty manor. By tradition, she would not be able to participate at the temple. She would just have to drag herself to sleep in the empty halls of the house that had once belonged to the grandmother she loved the most.

‘If only Langrey was here,’ Shia caught herself thinking.

It had been less than a day ago too when she had pushed Langrion away from her. She had returned the ring that he had placed on her hand when he decided to take her to be his pretend-bride many weeks ago. Last night at the pavilion, she was sure that leaving him was all for the best, but now, her soul craved to see him. How she would have given anything to see him at that very instant!

“Shia!”

She gasped. Was she probably dreaming? Was she simply dreaming that Langrion was there?

“Shia, I-I’m sorry,” he began to say, “I came as fast as I can when -”

She did not let him finish what he wanted to say. She had moved closer to his arms and buried her sobbing face in his chest.

Shia could feel his body tremble slightly and his heavy heart rise and fall in a sob as well. Duchess Tristal was his Nana, his care taker, and his second mother. Shia could just imagine the wretchedness inside his heart of losing her like this.

After standing there for the longest time, Langrion finally spoke to her in a hoarse whisper.

“Come, I’ll take you to bed...”

He probably did not have the strength inside of him like she did, but he lifted her frame with ease and carried her back to the mansion into her bedroom and, finally, into her bed.

The whole house was enveloped in darkness, but he was able to walk his way effortlessly inside the manor with only the soft lights of the full moon illuminating its halls.

He laid her down softly on the silken sheets, and he stroked her wet face.

“Sleep well, Shia,” he said. He was about to move away from her when she suddenly and tenderly touched his hand.

“Please... don’t leave me,” Shia said, trembling, “Stay here, Langrey... Don’t leave me...”

Shia did not want to fight the feelings inside of her anymore. She lifted her head and began to kiss him.