The King’s dead body wasn’t at all like the deer’s, which Ophelia had found in the forest, and if it weren’t for the civilians that mourned him around an open casket which hugged him tight, she could have almost wondered if he weren’t simply asleep.

Elian didn’t speak much on their way back, neither did Kris when they arrived and he had to break the news to his brother that they were too late. “Father has passed,” were the only words they’d exchanged before the day followed another, then three, until it was finally time to bury the old man and crown the new ruler of this land.

Ophelia observed Kris walk up to the casket. Unlike the others, he was not crying as he deposited pale white flowers at his feet. It was a curious thing, these funerals, and Ophelia wished she could have found her voice at this very moment to ask them why they treated the dead better than when they’d been alive.

The King’s face soon disappeared underground, though the tears of his entourage did not as they continued to weep throughout the day, the ceremony held swiftly after, where Kris found himself seated atop a throne, his back clad by velvet capes embroidered in gold. For once, he did not look like death, but a regular young man who wanted no part in what was going on. His eyes were still dark, yet not with a storm, nor with rage—they were filled by sorrow, for today and the days that were to come.

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At least, this is what Ophelia thought to herself when he rose, and bowed before his people, and said, “I promise to do my best.”

She listened to the whispers of the villagers that floated around them like ghosts. There were young voices. There were old ones. There were curious gazes, as were there condescending glares. Some said he didn’t deserve to be King, others seemed to think it was fitting. Ophelia only wanted to know what made him appear so discontented with the situation at hand.

Kris’s figure faded, Ophelia’s did too. As she zigzagged her way through the sea of bodies that smelt of foreign aromas Elian had called perfumes, she traced Kris’s shadow with her feet, until they were alone, in his room, and her voice returned once more, letting her speak, letting her say, “What’s wrong?”