Tossing the small, rusted shovel to the side, Jovine impulsively used her fingers to claw at the dirt. She could practically hear the scolding she’d get from Erin for soiling her hands so carelessly, but an impatient thrum of energy hummed through her veins.
Jovine sat in the Imperial Cemetery, near the headstones lined with the bodies of past monarchs and decades of Tristaine rule. From the corner of her eye, she could still see the small bouquet of wildflowers she had placed on Empress Helene’s headstone just a few days ago.
When the shallow crater sufficed her intent, Jovine dusted her hands and released a heavy sigh. Spreading her left hand, she stared at the elegant band encircling her fourth finger. Her wedding ring — a symbol that vowed a life of commitment and love to a man who no longer existed. In the past, it had acted as an emblem of hope. Whenever she saw the matching ring still placed on her husband’s finger, it used to quiet a fraction of her heartbreak. The thought that they still belonged to each other, no matter how much he had strayed, used to call out that this wasn’t the end.
But, the end was here.
And she needed to say goodbye.
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Slowly pulling the ring off her finger, Jovine placed it in the shallow hole. She covered it with the remnant dirt and placed a single, yellow rose to mark the place.
A small, self-conscious laugh puffed out her lips. It did seem a little silly — the lengths she was going to leave her husband behind. But burying him was the only way to move forward without a hint of wavering doubt. The only way to bring down a tyrant. Because she was burying the man she loved, the man who never returned after he left her all those months ago.
Jovine stood, looking down at the yellow rose with a sad smile. A part of her strangled chest eased when the work was done. The way she saw it, it was unfair to condemn a man she couldn’t seem to separate from the one who stood in his chambers now.
This man was a husband who held her in his arms, kissed her brow in the mornings, and took walks with her in the Gardens. He was one who snuck her chocolates by the fountain, smiled against her cheek, and whispered sweet words in her ear. The stars they kissed under, the nights they had shared in bliss, the hill of yellow roses she adored him in. The endearing frown of concern, his burdened shoulders that only wanted good for his Empire, the dimple in his left cheek when his kindness shone through. The way he held her hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles to calm her rampant mind. The rumble in his chest when he laughed and held her tightly, seeming as if he never wanted to let go. Jovine bid farewell to them all.
“Goodbye, my love.”
Her sweet whisper trailed away with the gentle breeze, departing as her love did.