Sins of Mine - Mary E. Twomey Page 0,66
to see how the winds will blow. There’s never been a joint funeral with a royal and a civilian before. Part of me wants to smirk at the two men lying so close to one another. They wouldn’t dare stand this near to each other in life. It’s a travesty that death is the only thing that could bring them together.
One of the cabinet members gives the eulogy. The whole speech is from a book—stodgy and rehearsed, but it’s the same eulogy my grandfather was given, and his father before that, and so on.
My part is coming, though I wish it wasn’t. I don’t know how I feel about any of it. Yet here I am, about to get up and declare to the world all the things the historically-approved speech that the next in line king is supposed to say.
The podium with the microphone is abandoned too soon. Sloan gives me a nod, reminding my frozen feet that this is my hour. This is my turn to get up and assure the people that all will be well.
I walk stiffly to the podium, gripping the sides of it for too many seconds as I attempt to compose myself. I’m not crying. I saved my tears for Arlanna and Gray, for a private moment. The people aren’t used to seeing me without sunglasses, so I know they’re scrutinizing my face for details of which they’ve been deprived.
The words on the parchment before me are simple enough, but standing in front of the throngs of questioning faces, I know with utter certainty that they are all the wrong things to say.
So I crumple up the paper, ignoring the murmurs of surprise that I’m about to buck tradition before I’m even fully instated on the throne.
My voice booms out over the massive crowd. “I’m to tell you all that the kingdom is in capable hands. You’re to be assured that nothing will change, and there’s nothing to worry about. But if that’s what you came for today, then you haven’t been paying attention. There is much about our broken world that needs changing. There are many pillars that have been poorly built. They require breaking, even if it tumbles the entire structure around us.”
The murmurs might never stop. As they splinter out, I know I have to learn to ignore the people who are only unhappy because change is uncomfortable.
My knuckles are white as I grip the podium too tightly. “So if you are here because you are happy to ignore the plights of the shifters, and you are happy to have innocents pay for the crimes of their criminal parents, then my rule will be very difficult for you. I cannot bring myself to apologize for that. I can only apologize for any surprise you might be experiencing at this change. I should have made it more clear that this is who I am, and this is how I will rule.” My chin dips down. “I should have taken bolder steps when I was merely your prince.”
My gaze drifts to my father’s glass casket, to his perfectly preserved impassive expression that somehow looks disapproving still. Though, perhaps I’m only imagining that he loathes every word that comes from my mouth, even in death.
“For those of you who expected more from my father and more from me, I will do all I can to make sure our family name means more to you than wealth and power. Those things fade with time or even the changing of the wind. True goodness lasts through generations. That is the man I want to be for you all.”
I’m supposed to be putting a cap on my father’s end of the funeral, and I’m doing a lousy job. “I hope you’ll all join me in making sure your legacy of goodness stands with the one I promise to build. As we say goodbye to my father, I invite you all to examine your hearts and start your own legacy of goodness today. Let that be what my father’s death inspires in all of us.”
I don’t expect applause when I step back, but the thunderous praise rushes up to meet my words. The roar grants me the release of a winded smile I didn’t realize I needed.
Though it’s a royal funeral, time was allotted for Arlanna to say a few words to eulogize her father, as well. She is pale as she makes her way slowly through the sounds of the applause to the podium beside me.