Welcome to my seemingly endless journey.
A trip that will take you to places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives. A life I told you about in my unbelievable true story.
As promised in that story I will now share this story with you.
Chapter 126
"I LOVED MY WIFE," the Nightingale continued.
"All papers read the same, same handwriting same four characters."
“Sion is not stupid as you know. Despite the shock, the past tense that her father used causes her to directly run out of her father's study. When she does not find her mother in her own room, she summons the guard. He has no choice but to inform the princess of the events of the previous evening."
The friend I told you about, who is to guard the council, asked permission to speak to Her Majesty Sion after the guard has been dismissed. He informs her of the true reasoning behind last night's events.
The young lady tries to remain strong, but as you know sir no one can lose their parents and remain strong. You and your companions are the closest thing to friends, so she reverses her father's decree.
"You are required to stay until the funeral of the Sikh and his wife. She has ordered the soldiers who led her mother away yesterday to collect her remains so that both can be reunited in death. She wants you and your friends to attend the service and has asked about you.”
“Thank you, Nightingale, I will visit Her Majesty immediately.”
My head spins from what I just heard. My heart goes out to this young woman who just had all the security she had in her life wiped away. The Sikh dead, Kyra dead.
The princess who wishes to speak to me. I had expected her to summon Numico.
I must have stood still for quite some time with my hand on the door handle. Because when I break away from my thoughts, my wrist hurts from leaning. I have weighed various things and listed the options for the future. It does not feel good, but I have made a promise to her mother and no matter how hard it might be for the young lady, there is an opportunity right now to start fulfilling that promise. I press the latch and leave the room.
“My condolences, Your Majesty,” I speak carefully. It is still unclear to me why I have been summoned and it therefore seems appropriate to wait and not make any assumptions.
“Thank you,” her voice sounds broken. She stands in front of me, just like her mother the day before, completely dressed in black, with her back to me. The resemblance is astonishing.
“You probably have no idea why I summoned you. Let me try to explain that first," she sounds businesslike.
"It's like this: my mother and I lived quite isolated. Partly out of protection, partly because that is the custom. Except for a few of the servants, we, especially I, had few friends. Now I know that my mother was very fond of you, possibly more than any other."
"Firstly, I would like to ask you to conduct the service that will be held for her. My father will be buried at the same service, but after his actions, I want to keep quiet about him."
"Since I am now the head of the family, I can do that and that is how it will happen. Not a word will be spoken about him when he leaves the above-ground world for good."
"If you would like to know anything about my mother, I would be happy to provide any assistance you can." Even though her voice sounds hard and matter-of-fact, I feel the room fill with the young woman's sadness.
“Your mother was a special woman, it would be an honor to give her some last words. My friends and I are completely at your disposal during these times if you wish.”
Only now does she turn around, her tears streaming. “Forgive me, sir, for my appearance.”
For a moment, I wonder if it is appropriate, but decide that etiquette is against me. I take a scarf from her closet, which feels softer than silk, and dry her cheeks. I am so close to her that I feel a little ashamed.
Ultimately, she is now the sole successor to the throne, another divinity like her father.
Her eyes look up at me. I see no princess, no heir to the throne; they are the eyes of a child who is grateful to find comfort.
I carefully put an arm around her shoulder, and her head rests on my chest. “Sion, just call me Sion.”
"Sion, I once lost my sister. She was still young then, younger than you are now, and not much later my mother also died. I was then offered help; our community is very close, and in such times the entire village was there for me. But I thought I had to keep up, and stay strong. I never knew my father, but the men I knew didn't cry. I turned down help, time and time again, I stayed strong, expecting the pain to wear off, and it did."
"She wore out but didn't wear away. She sank deeper and deeper into my heart. She was encapsulated, but this encapsulation did not only apply to my pain. The entire heart was encapsulated, that's how I lived until recently. Or better, not lived. For a heart that does not feel makes a person that does not live."
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