Chapter 26: The Grand Gala (2): The Unveiling

The voice continued to echo through the hall.

"Tonight’s celebration is not merely a gathering of nobles."

The room gradually quieted again.

"It marks the conclusion of a conflict that has shaped the history of our two kingdoms."

Eldrin stood among the servants near the edge of the hall.

He barely listened.

He was still thinking about the strange boy from earlier.

Then the next words reached him.

"The conflict between the Kingdom of Maria and the Novaryn Dukedom of Eldia."

Eldrin’s fingers tightened, The herald continued.

"And with the establishment of the new peace treaty between Maria and Eldia, we stand at the beginning of a new Chapter."

Applause broke out across the hall.

He kept his eyes lowered.

Novaryn.

He had heard the name countless times since arriving in Maria.

He had learned to remain silent.

That was what his father had told him, or order him through silver tongue.

Forget us.

Eldrin had tried.

For the past month, he had tried harder than he had ever tried to forget anything.

He had forced himself to think about Maria.

About work.

About surviving.

About the next meal.

The next day.

Anything except home.

Anything except the people he had left behind.

The herald raised his voice again.

"House Korrandis played a decisive role in the campaign that brought the Novaryn conflict to its conclusion."

More applause.

"As one of the greatest supporters of the Crown during the war, House Korrandis has been granted the honor of hosting this celebration."

Eldrin stared at the floor.

Just get through tonight.

That was all he wanted.

Then the herald stepped aside.

"And now, His Grace, Duke Alaric Korrandis."

The room erupted in applause.

The Duke stepped forward.

He waited until the noise settled.

"My friends."

His voice carried easily across the hall.

"Tonight, we celebrate more than victory."

He looked toward the gathered nobles.

"We celebrate those who gave their lives so that our kingdoms might know peace."

The crowd quieted.

Eldrin felt something tighten in his chest.

The Duke continued.

"And because victory should never be forgotten..."

He raised one hand.

"...I have prepared something for you."

Several servants entered from the side of the hall.

Eldrin’s eyes followed them.

They were carrying a large wooden chest.

His breathing stopped.

He knew that chest.

Not because he had seen it before.

Because he had helped move something almost exactly like it earlier that day.

The cold.

The wooden covering.

The enormous weight.

No.

His mind rejected the thought before it even formed.

The servants placed the chest before the Duke.

Several guards stepped forward.

The locks were removed.

The lid opened.

A second container was revealed inside.

Something wrapped in layers of dark cloth.

The Duke reached toward it.

Eldrin couldn’t move.

The room seemed strangely distant.

The Duke pulled the cloth away.

A head.

Eldrin’s vision went white.

No.

No.

His fingers loosened.

The tray slipped in his hands.

The Duke lifted the preserved head for everyone to see.

"This..."

His voice carried through the silent hall.

"...is the head of Duke Novaryn."

Someone gasped.

"The man responsible for the deaths of countless Marian soldiers."

The Duke’s expression hardened.

"The man who stood against our kingdom until the very end."

Eldrin couldn’t hear the rest.

His ears were ringing.

The face.

He knew that face.

Even after forcing himself not to remember.

A hundred memories came rushing back at once.

His father’s voice.

A hand resting on his head.

A quiet meal.

A training yard.

The sound of his father’s footsteps approaching his room.

The last time they had spoken.

Forget us.

Eldrin’s vision blurred.

He stumbled backward.

Someone shouted something.

He didn’t know what.

The room seemed to tilt beneath him.

Then the crowd erupted.

"LONG LIVE MARIA!"

"LONG LIVE THE KING!"

"LONG LIVE HOUSE KORRANDIS!"

The voices crashed together.

Eldrin couldn’t breathe.

That’s not him.

It was.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

His father wasn’t supposed to be here.

Not like this.

Not displayed in front of hundreds of people.

Not while strangers celebrated his death.

Eldrin’s knees nearly gave out.

He turned.

Someone called after him.

He didn’t stop.

He pushed through the nearest opening and stumbled into the corridor.

The noise followed him.

Long live Maria.

He kept walking.

Faster.

His chest burned.

His vision shook.

He didn’t know where he was going.

He only knew he had to get away.

Away from the voices.

Away from the room.

Away from that face.

His father had told him to forget.

For a month, Eldrin had obeyed.

He had buried every memory beneath work, fear, hunger, and exhaustion.

He had convinced himself that perhaps forgetting was the only way he could survive.

But seeing his father’s face again had ripped everything open.

He reached the end of the corridor.

His hand caught the wall.

He bent forward, desperately trying to breathe.

Behind him, the celebration continued.

Music began again.

People laughed.

Glasses clinked.

And somewhere inside that hall, his father’s death was being celebrated as a victory.

Eldrin closed his eyes.

For the first time in a month...

he wanted to go home.