Goodbye, My Queen
*Rowan*
A woman is singing one of the kingdom’s traditional songs in a high soprano, operatic voice, and it’s beginning to grate on my nerves. I’m trying to ignore it and focus on something else–anything else–but I’m meant to stand here and look stately, to look tuned in. Instead, I want to run back to my office, bury my head in work, and forget that any of this has happened.
Eventually, the song ends, and the high priest returns to the pulpit to say some more words about my mother. I’ve hardly listened to any of the funeral service. It’s too difficult for me to think about the pleasant, kindhearted woman the priest described. I haven’t seen her in so long, it’s almost as if she died when my father did.
I didn’t make it to my father’s funeral. I was in the infirmary, drugged up, doing my best to heal.
Part of me wishes I had an excuse to be there now.
My sister is still under heavy sedation. We will, eventually, bring her out of it so we can question her, but it was suggested to me that we wait until the funeral is over, so that’s what I’m doing.
Then, I’ll get as much information from my sister as I can before I attack Darksky.
It’s been three days since the attack, but it seems like it was only a few hours ago. Since then, I haven’t slept. Not more than a few hours. I’ve been looking at our preparedness for the war, and I’ve been looking into what Hezzlie said about what might be under my house. I can’t find anything about that anywhere, not even in the library.
I’ve also been doing my best to avoid Ann. We were able to get her here safely, though Darksky had people ready to take her. Maybe she’d be happier with her daughter, but I don’t trust anyone to be deposited within his clutches right now.
I want to get Hezzlie out. I just don’t know how.
I haven’t spoken to her since our mind-link conversation in the aftermath of Mara’s attack. She’s given me a lot to think about and a lot to do.
Finally, the funeral ends. Now, we’ll all go outside, walk to the family burial grounds, and watch Mother’s casket be slid inside with father’s. It’s another task I’d like to opt out of, but I have no choice.
The singing starts up again as the designated pallbearers move forward to pick up the casket. They go down the aisle, and I follow, Dean, James, and a few of the other advisors following behind me. We walk in silence through the doors, and at least the music fades into the background.
The air is crisp and helps clear my head slightly as we follow a path I haven’t walked in years that loops around the side of the house and out between the denser parts of the forest. It doesn’t take long to get there. The doors to the mausoleum are already open. The priest says a few words, and we all bow our heads to pray to the Moon Goddess before the coffin is moved inside.
Taking a deep breath, I step forward. I take a red rose offered by the high priest and walk inside. I’m alone for a moment with the bones of my ancestors. A large wolf carving stares back at me from the far corner. Grandfather wanted it there to watch over them while they rested. I place the rose on top of the coffin, take a deep breath, and say, “I’ll see you on the other side, Mother.” Sadness threatens to creep in again, so I quickly pivot and walk out the way I came. I don’t want to think about this anymore. I just want to get into the war room and execute our revenge.
I walk past everyone and head to the house. I’m almost out of the crowd when I see Wilma coming toward me. She has tears in her eyes. “Won’t you come to the luncheon?” she calls.
I turn to tell her no and see her trip over something in the grass. I move to catch her and manage to keep her from hitting the ground. She cries out, either startled or having hurt her ankle. I get her back to standing. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she says. “Thank you, Alpha. I’m sorry. I tripped over something.”
She’d been cutting through the grass, so at first, I assume it’s an old tombstone covered up by the grass, but we are fairly far away from the small cemetery. I lean down and feel through the high grass and note there’s something there–something rectangular and hard like concrete.
“Oh, it must be another one of those,” Wilma mutters.
“Another one of what?” I ask, confused.
“One of those concrete doors,” she says, as if I should know what she’s talking about. “They’re scattered around the back yard and gardens. Some say that’s how Darksky got into the house.”
I stare at her for a long moment before I drop down on my knees and start pulling out one handful of grass after another. By now, the funeral is over, and people are coming over. Some of them are looking at me like they’re certain I’ve lost my fucking mind–and at this point, I’m not sure they’re wrong.
“Alpha?” James calls, rushing over. “What are you doing?”
“There’s something here,” I tell him, ripping out clumps of moss and dirt. Dean is there, too.
“What are you talking about?” James asks. “Let’s go inside.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug away from him.
“Come on, Rowan.” Dean tries, a little more roughly, and I push him in the legs with my forearm.
Both of them insist I get up, but just before they try to haul me to my feet, the corner of what appears to be a rectangular chunk of concrete emerges from the ground.
“There!” I shout, and they both look. “There is something here. See?”
They exchange looks and then return their gazes to the ground. “What the fuck?” Dean mutters.
A moment later, James and Dean are both on the ground beside me helping me unbury whatever the fuck this thing is. When it finally emerges, we all three sit back on the ground and stare in disbelief.
It’s a fucking door.
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