Lost In Character: Transmigration Chronicles Of A Nameless Heroine 55 Misperceptions

Along with the bearers, only the close family members and a few honored individuals had entered the royal tombs for the last part of the rites. The rest had stayed outside, standing in respect as the caskets were being brought in, and then in wait as they were being sealed inside one by one.

Leal stood with his countrymen and the other foreign representatives, some of whom had elected to exchange pleasantries with them. They had hesitated to do so before, but after learning that Leal was a royal and after seeing that Arnica's Queen had given him due honor, they decided it was safe enough to be seen a.s.sociating with the foreign prince and his lords.

Some of Arnica's upper crust seemed to have been thinking the same, especially those who'd been wanting to get a closer look. In a stately trickle, n.o.bles and elites had sought an introduction through the rulers chosen by the Queen earlier to sit with the Lyseans back at the Royal Palace.

A few who were already known to have connections with their hated neighbor through commerce or marriage went straight to them without bothering with formal introductions. In just a matter of minutes, a small court had formed around the four Lyseans, who were all easy on the eyes in their own ways, but none more so than their Prince.

Here and there, one can note disappointed faces among those who did not approach – the only thing that had stopped them were their disheveled physical states.

Surprisingly, Prince Leal proved to be as disarming as his companions. While acknowledging strangers and exchanging a few words with each of them, he was polite and non-dismissive – that is to say, not quite closed off but not exactly open either. When he rudely arrived late at the throne room earlier, many had a.s.sumed he was a spoiled sn.o.b, but his actions since then could be interpreted to mean that that was not the case at all.

True, if they were to take into account that he might be seeking a royal bride, it could be that he was simply baring the full magnificence of his feathers – "raising his stocks" as it were. Most Arnicans were happy enough to appreciate the display or feel flattered and smug about the lengths Prince Leal seemed willing to go to for what he wanted.

They fully understood anyway. Even the most jealous among them couldn't help but admit that Princess Gisela's beauty was worth all the trouble.

Half an hour pa.s.sed; the afternoon began to deepen. Gradually, people had been streaming out of the white building, with some needing to be a.s.sisted or downright carried because their grief combined with exhaustion had drained them completely. They'd held on only because necessity demanded it. Leal supposed it was too much to expect anything more.

Along with everyone else, who'd also once again fallen into respectful silence, he watched as person after person returned into their midst, waiting for a particular figure to appear.

When the Queen emerged from the shadowed doorways, she was jarringly alone. It was only several moments later that a heavily weeping Lady Ilse followed suit, supported by her worried-looking daughter.

Next came the Lord General, his seemingly unconscious wife in his arms, flanked by his younger son. Lothar's brother appeared to be dry-eyed, but it was not in an unfeeling way from what Leal could see. His stoic hold on his emotions bore resemblance to those of many of the soldiers, who were also exiting the mausoleum at intervals.

Soon, it seemed the last of everyone who'd entered had returned to the meadow. That's what it certainly looked like when no one more followed, and inattentive individuals a.s.sumed no one else was to come. They then either resumed their quiet socialization or sought out the blankets once again to rest some more. It will be another long and arduous walk back to the Royal Palace, after all.

From what Leal had observed, not just one but two women were still missing.

The suspicion that had first appeared in his mind during the procession intensified once again, in much the same way it had when he saw Hilde and the Lord General's daughter stay behind for a moment after the other princess and Lothar's brother headed towards the tree.

The two young women's exchange had seemed pleasant enough, if brief, and his concern over it had then been eclipsed by the realization that he did not need to worry about a certain wuss becoming a replacement rival to him. Like any other man, Lothar's brother appeared weak to physical beauty.
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Remaining in his place, Leal was excusing himself from a n.o.blewoman seeking to engage him when a sudden wave of whispers alerted all of Queen Heloise's order to return to the Royal Palace.

She was already standing at the mouth of the dirt path that slashed across the meadow, surrounded by silent maids and the Royal Guards that were not currently on loan. To all appearances, she was ready to depart.

"Queen," said the Royal Officiate, "the Princess Hilde is still within the royal tombs."

At this, those who had not noticed looked around and found that it was true. Most of these people were the same ones who'd jumped quickly into position after the Queen gave her order.

The tall and pale woman nodded, and for a moment, the paunchy Officiate relaxed, but then she answered, "The funeral is over. Those who wish to stay behind may do so. Let us not inconvenience those who need to rest in better comfort."

At those words, a subtle polarization once again appeared among the people present. Given the state that the Lord General's wife was in, she was obviously one of those in need of better comfort. How were they to give her that when she could not yet move on her own? Who here had enough strength left to them to carry her all the way back to the Palace?

There were plenty of other individuals and families in the same predicament. Because the Queen had ostensibly given her permission for anyone to stay if they wished, about a fourth of the crowd made no move to join the return procession.

Lord Alfwin left his family's side to tell his monarch, "If it proves needful, Queen, my family and I would avail of a carriage to return. Whether we'd need one or not, it would be best that we wait for the streets to clear. I beg for your understanding."

"Of course."

With that simple agreement, the Queen began to lead the procession back. Among those who opted to go with her, some scurried to fall in line but many took their own time – the only thing these groups had in common was that the monarch didn't witness how they had handled themselves, but this probably wouldn't occur to at least one of the two.

Behind his look of indifference, Leal scoffed in disdain at the departure of those who did not seem to have healthy self-respect mixed in with those who did. He was grateful for the reminder anyway – few would trust those who so obviously wanted something in return for what they do. As far as Arnicans were concerned, he was guilty of this. The difference, or so he liked to think, was that he wouldn't deny it if asked.

Speaking of which…

Leal turned back towards the royal tomb's entrance. In the process, his gaze slid over the Lord General, who was now speaking with a servant. Perhaps he'd been hasty in many of his judgments of the older man and his motivations. Among other things, from the glimpses he'd seen of her thus far, it didn't seem like the Lord totally lacked a capable heir.

Two highborn women with the potential to become military officers… what were the chances that that was a coincidence?

Struggling to control his temper, Leal bit off in his own tongue, "None."