SYMDF 46

News of the Emperor’s passing spread immediately throughout the entire Empire. Though the late Emperor may have been cruel to his eldest son, known as a bastard, he had ruled with reason; thus, most of the Empire’s people mourned his death with sorrow.
Nobles with estates near the Imperial Capital hastened to the capital, eager to catch at least a distant glimpse of the coffin bearing the late Emperor’s body, or perhaps to gain favor in the eyes of Vernian, whose coronation was conducted that same day.

The O’Brien Empire, while honoring Blanchet—a legendary beast said to have assisted in the founding of the Empire—was a land that did not worship gods. Therefore, the late Emperor’s funeral and the upcoming coronation of the new Emperor were to be held at the Empress Dowager’s Palace.

And today was at last the day the late Emperor’s coffin entered the Imperial Capital. Despite hurrying as much as possible given the considerable distance from Iodin to the capital, more than ten days had passed since His Majesty closed his eyes.

From dawn, the Imperial household opened wide the gates of the capital to receive those attending the funeral and coronation.
Ion, carrying the persistently clamoring Yomnyong—the creature seemingly desperate to be brought to its previous master—sat alongside his father.

A long red carpet stretched from the small courtyard in front of the Empress Dowager’s Palace to the great hall inside. At the raised end of this path lay a glass coffin filled with white flowers, placed there with the knowledge that the late Emperor’s funeral would be held first.

Before long, the Empress Dowager’s entrance announced the opening of the ceremony. Since the coronation had not yet occurred, all addresses remained in their former form.
“Her Majesty the Empress enters. All present, bow your heads in reverence.”

As these words were spoken, the Empress Dowager—Vernian’s mother and the late Emperor’s lawful consort—emerged from the depths of the palace.
Dressed in a somber gown that emphasized mourning her husband rather than celebration of her son, her face was veiled in black lace.

When she ascended to the highest point in the hall and approached the glass coffin, Duke Krager, who led the throngs of nobles filling the palace and courtyard, stepped forward.
He knelt on one knee before the Empress Dowager, representing the assembly.
“I pay homage to Her Majesty the Empress.”

The cry was echoed throughout the palace. After receiving their salute, the Empress Dowager moved to the left side of the coffin, and the Duke returned to his place.

Standing nearby, Ion watched the Duke whose expression was tightly set. Taking a moment when a gap appeared, Ion gently spoke to ease the Duke’s shoulder.
“Father, you said you and the late Emperor were childhood friends, didn’t you?”
The Duke glanced sideways at Ion before turning his gaze forward again and replying,
“Yes. We were the same age, and amongst the noble children, he was the one I was closest to.”

Ion was hearing for the first time that they were the same age. The Duke continued, perhaps overwhelmed by the sense of a changed era now that his old friend had passed.
“His character changed at some point, but in childhood, he was quite innocent.”
“I find that hard to imagine.”

Ion only remembered the Emperor’s ruthless insistence that drove Vernian to send Camillus north, so the word “innocent” sounded strange to him. But the Duke shook his head.
“The Emperor before him was even harsher than that.”
“Was something terrible the cause?”
“…”

Though Ion asked, the Duke would say no more. At that moment, the sound of a distant drum began to roll.
Doom.
Those who recognized it turned their gazes toward the hall’s entrance.
“His Highness the Crown Prince enters. All shall bow in solemn respect.”

Dooom.
With the next beat, Vernian stepped onto the red carpet and entered the Empress Dowager’s hall.

Following orders, Ion bowed his head, hearing Vernian’s confident footsteps pass near him. Those footsteps, usually brimming with self-assurance, grated even more strongly today.

As the drums continued to beat, signaling the nearing funeral procession, Vernian’s steps halted on the right side of the coffin opposite the Empress Dowager.

At last, the side doors of the Solar Palace within the inner Imperial City swung open, revealing the procession carrying the late Emperor’s coffin into the courtyard of the Empress Dowager’s Palace.

The coffin was surrounded by numerous banners held by the Knights of Noah, the Imperial Guard. Ion’s eyes caught sight of one figure standing at the front of the procession.

“Ah…”

Though not especially close, that figure filled Ion’s vision entirely.
The palace was bathed in dazzling sunlight. As the sun beamed down upon the man’s broad shoulders adorned with yellow epaulets and the elegant ornaments glittering on his black attire, each movement sent sparks flashing.
But more radiant than his accoutrement was the man himself.

The boy of sixteen, once downy-faced, had grown into an imposing figure far beyond imagination. His height required most men to crane their necks to look him in the eye. His muscles, hardened by his deeds in the north, bulged beneath his clothes, while his straight, slender posture lent an air of great dignity.

Yet most strikingly, his face had changed. The youthful softness was gone, replaced by a lengthened visage with hollowed cheeks and strongly defined features, clearly marking the man he had become. Yet with eyes as deep as the sea and a harmonious, noble nose, there was an undeniable beauty to that face.

Camillus Valderas Clodel.
The bastard son of the late Emperor and his only bloodline besides Vernian, Camillus led the long coffin carrying the Emperor’s remains into the hall.

In that moment, Ion and Camillus’s eyes met across the multitude. Feeling those eyes fixed upon him, Ion struggled to steady his racing heart.
It must be a trick of the mind.
There is no way he would recognize me here, immediately.

But the thought lasted only briefly before the expression on Camillus’s face, so rigid it seemed almost cold, softened into a gentle smile.
He had undoubtedly recognized Ion.

Unaware that his own amazed expression was visible, Ion followed Camillus’s movements with his eyes. Just as his heart threatened to pound violently as if trampled, sighs flowed throughout the room.

“Offer your final respects to His Majesty…”

Even the voice of the attendant guiding the ritual was filled with sorrow.

Only upon hearing that did Ion remember his place and turn his gaze to the center of the hall. Following Duke Krager’s example, he bowed toward the coffin draped in white cloth, offering his final respects.
“We behold the Light of O’Brien.”

The phrase, uttered by many lips, echoed solemnly throughout the hall. Heavy footsteps crossed the chamber, and Camillus, cloak billowing behind him, approached deliberately, then knelt respectfully on one knee.

His deep voice resonated in the hall of the Empress Dowager’s Palace.
“I, Grand Duke of Virentium, Camillus Valderas Clodel, have come to escort the great 42nd Emperor of O’Brien on his final journey. I pay respects to Her Majesty the Empress and His Highness the Crown Prince.”

Camillus slowly raised his head. Whether unprepared for his assertive arrival or unsettled, Vernian’s face, standing at the hall’s center before the coffin, nearly twisted with anger.
Yet, unwilling to show it before so many, Vernian forced a smile and returned the greeting.
“Welcome, brother.”

Camillus smiled in reply, and Vernian descended the platform, feigning warmth. Wrapping his arms lightly around Camillus’s broad shoulders—raised in reunion after eight years—Vernian leaned close and whispered quietly enough that others could not overhear.
“You must be mad to return to the Capital. Do you want to die early?”

Though his lips bore a smile, his words were harsh. Camillus responded with a bright expression, as if hearing congratulations.
“I know full well how foolish you have been all these years. I doubt you really can manage it.”
“You bastard…”
“Keep that expression. We must look like loving brothers.”

At Camillus’s reprimand, Vernian barely checked the frown beginning on his brow and embraced Camillus more tightly.
“The old man’s caprice in his final days has made you arrogant, but the method to tame you is well known… isn’t it?”

Sensing the allusion to Ion, Camillus gripped Vernian’s shoulder fiercely, like a bite wound. Vernian involuntarily uttered a muffled sound, but Camillus did not relent.
“Don’t die from a bite while trying to tame the beast. You must be cautious with beasts, yes?”
“Ha ha ha ha ha…”

Pretending to exchange pleasantries, Vernian laughed loudly. Once Camillus released his shoulder, Vernian straightened and declared:
“The funeral rites shall commence now.”

Though anger still marred one side of his face, the ceremony began with relative peace.

Footnotes

Blanchet (블랑셰): A mythical creature revered in the Empire’s founding lore. Unlike many nations, O’Brien is not a theocracy and thus does not worship gods.