The funeral dirge echoed throughout too cold stone chambers. It's somber yet uplifting tones evidence of the artist's skills. The slight shakiness to the notes meant they were nervous, and yet it almost added to the beauty of the piece. Caro Lanfrid bobbed a finger along to the notes as he watched a procession of four servants haul a decorated throne of red wood on their shoulders. Strapped to the chair, the body of Thaddeus Terinen looked as regal as any other day in robes of white laced with red and gold. I suppose that's fitting. Caro mused. A last note rang out within the grand mausoleum as the throne slammed onto a raised platform.

All at once, the guests fell to one knee in a drawn out moment of silence. Purposely heavy footfalls rang out as the Grand Minister, clad in a black robe with gold lace similar to that of Thaddeus', stepped up beside the throne. He looked as though he had seen a ghost with how pale he was. Caro shifted his attention to the first row of kneeling 'mourners'. It was hard to consider them mourning, the various children of Thaddeus brimmed with excitement and nervousness, only the older of them having the decency to keep smiles off their faces. Caro felt a sneer forming and breathed hard. He reminded himself that one of these would soon be his monarch. The Grand Minister cleared his voice, and Caro focused his attention.

Why did he seem so nervous? Caro knew that the ministers didn't participate in the squabbles of backing the various princes and princesses, it was one of the few things Caro respected about them, so it made no sense that the Grand Minister would be so worried unless...

"His Majesty, Thaddeus Terinen tenth of his name, and Bringer of Stability, has died." The Grand Minister said.

"God rest his soul." The mourners called as one.

"In his stead, His Majesty has named no heir." The Grand Minister's voiced with forced dignity.

Caro shrunk, his worst fears realized. All around him he heard polite bickering and the shouts of the various princes and princesses. At last he stood, and in a spiral out from him, the mourners fell quiet again.

"Surely that can't be, Grand Minister." Caro called out.

"I assure you, we implored His Majesty to validate his successor throughout his last week, but he insisted on waiting. By the time he had called on me to validate his choice..."

Silence thrived as mourners took in his words. Caro's heart thrummed in his chest. Thaddeus wasn't that careless, was he? He stopped himself from making the accusation that laid on his tongue. He thought over the Grand Ministers words again before speaking.

"You might not have been able to validate it, but under such dire circumstances we ought to consider whomever he said he was considering as his true heir."

"That would be impossible."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Why!" Caro frowned at his volume.

"He never... he never mentioned any to be his successor. Him calling for me to validate his choice, was the first any had heard of him finally making the decision."

"That can't be! He wouldn't do something so-"

"Be quiet, Caro Lanfrid." A voice Caro didn't recognize said.

Caro scanned around him, and saw the First Prince standing up. He was as tall as Caro, if a little more lithe in figure, and wore a surcoat of red and gold with a white cape strewn over his left shoulder. He was four or five years younger than Caro, with his father's rich eyebrows and gold specked green eyes. His hair was a dirty blonde, and from his mother, as Thaddeus' was a stark black. He had a strong jaw and slightly hooked nose. Caro heard he was popular with ladies.

"It is improper to stand at a monarch's funeral." The First Prince chided.

Caro forced down a laugh at the hypocrisy of the First Prince. He instead bowed his head slightly less than was appropriate before returning to a kneel, the prince followed suit. During their back and forth, the Grand Minister had regained his composure.

"As no successor has been named, all children of his majesty shall be eligible to take up the throne. The decision shall be made by agreement between the remaining princes and princesses."

"And if no agreement can be made?" The First Prince asked.

The Grand Minister frowned "If that is the case, the lands of Terinen shall be split between all successors based on their seniority and support."

The mourners again mumbled between themselves, while Caro looked at His Majesty's corpse. It almost seemed like he was happy with all of this, the tiniest of smiles on his face. Caro frowned at that smile, before looking over the nine princes and princesses, and remembering the wording of the Grand Minister, the two bastard sons behind them. Caro wanted to believe that they would agree on a successor, and that he would serve them dutifully until his retirement or death on the battlefield, but even though he hadn't even met most of them proper, he could tell they were all seeing this as the opportunity it presented them individually. Only the First Prince seemed harder to read.

"Due to the lack of an acceptable heir to speak on behalf of His Majesty, the ceremony shall conclude here until such matters are resolved." The Grand Minister said, holding his open palm towards the mourners.

"God rest his soul." The Mourners called at once again. And keep this kingdom together. Nero thought.

The Grand Minister took his leave, as the funeral dirge picked up once more. Caro noticed that the notes lost their hopeful quality. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sorrow of the song. Others started to leave, momentary interruptions to the beautiful tale being woven by the musician. Caro envisioned his past, which he looked on fondly, of being lucky enough to be chosen for His Majesty's squad, but the music repainted his happiest memories as the first inevitable steps towards the stark feeling of purposelessness that hung off of him. The music eventually faded and Caro remained kneeling for a time still, letting his gnawing thoughts dim and enjoying the comfort of nothingness. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes. The glass mural above, depicting a crown on top of the sun, cast an ephemeral almost holy light over the body of Thaddeus Terinen. Caro stood up as the light faded. He was alone in the large stone chamber, save for the body of Thaddeus Terinen, and the First Prince who stood by the entrance to the mausoleum, and watched Caro with an indecipherable expression.