[PK] A Regal Requiem

[sondher 797]

The heart-broken Archduchess discovered dead by her husband, 1894

 

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“He will be dead by sunrise,” The physician concluded grimly as packed his delicate surgical equipment into a trunk.

 

The gaunt Archduchess stared down at the sickly Paul, her broad eyes filled with disbelief. The love of her life, sentenced to die soon… she could not bear the thought. With a shaky, breathless voice, she dared to query,

“A-Are you sure there is nothing else that can be done?”

 

 

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Paul Salvian Temesch et Moere, the revered Archduke of the Petra had fallen ill after suffering an infection that began in his amputated hand. His haggard appearance made a drastic difference, he bore the look of a dead man– a look Carolina was all too familiar with. The man she loved, the loud, jovial Count she met at a  festival in Vienne all those years ago… was dying. She knew the answer to her own question already, but the naive child inside of her wanted nothing more than the truth to be false. 

 

“There is nothing that can be done, no. My deepest apologies, I did all that I could…” The Doctor bowed his head respectfully towards Carolina before taking his leave. As the door closed, the Archduchess was encased in a room of darkness, alone.

 

Her weak knees crumpled as she took to the floor by Paul’s bedside, her limber hand extending to take Paul’s clammy palm. Tears stung her cerulean eyes and streamed ceaselessly down her porcelain cheeks as she gazed upon the sullen figure of her husband, “Why you? Why does it have to be you? GOD should take me, not you. You have so much to live for… so much left to do,” She sobbed pointlessly to the bedridden man who was not conscious enough to listen, “Were we not happy enough, living isolated in Temesch- isolated from the rest of the world… alone… together…” The ginger continued to ramble on with her woes, venting to the only man who ever listened to her.

 

This continued on for hours, until the light of the moon steeped in and began its slow pace across the wooden floor- this light blanketed the tear-ridden Carolina with a welcoming embrace, which felt like the sky was beckoning her. She knew what had to be done then, she knew that even with everything that her husband had built and the life they created together with their children, she could not live fully without him. The Archduchess reluctantly withdrew her hand from Paul’s before she ascended to her feet unsteadily. She cleared her throat awkwardly, then addressed her husband, evidently hysterical after receiving the news, “The children. I must say farewell, I will tell them for you as well. Stay here and rest, my dear,” She gently cupped Paul’s cheek and planted a tender kiss upon his forehead before slipping out of the dark ducal quarters, and into the looming halls of Temesch.

 

Carolina visited each one of her children that night, in the order of youngest to eldest. Charlotte, Alexander, Adrienna, Anne… then finally Renilde. Each child was bid goodnight and received a soft peck on the cheek from their mother– but guilt overcame Carolina as she addressed her eldest, Renilde.

 

“What is the matter, mother?” Queried the adolescent, Renilde, her youthful eyes broadening with concern at the sight of her pallid Mother. She sat up frantically, her layers of blankets bunching up around her waist as she leaned forth to embrace Carolina.

 

The compassionate gesture from her kind daughter caused the Archduchess’s false demeanor to break. Carolina dipped her head and buried her face into Renilde’s ginger locks of hair, hiding her broken display as best as she could, “Nothing is wrong, dear,” She cooed reassuringly, her bony fingers brushing through Renilde’s hair to comfort her, “I came to wish you goodnight, like I always do. I… also wanted to add that I l-love you so much, I love you and your siblings more than anything in this realm… always remember that, dear.”

 

“Oh,” The eldest of the Temesch children dipped her head, not pressing the issue further, “Goodnight then, mother. I love you too…” A skeptical tone laced her soft voice as she eyed Carolina. Nonetheless, she leaned back into her bed and allowed her Mother to resume her nightly routine.

 

The trembling Matriarch of Temesch bobbed her head as well, then slowly treaded out of the room– her gaze lingering over Renilde a moment longer before she shut the door.

 

Carolina had never been familiar with the pommel of a sword, let alone a dagger. The Archduchess returned to her stead at Paul's side.  High on adrenaline and hopeless, she drew upon her weapon-- a fine dagger with a decorative base-- a gift from her husband, a gift that was probably never intended to be used. Hesitantly, she laid herself next to Paul, finding comfort within her last moments as she took his sallow hand, “I love you, Paul…” She uttered bleakly. With one final breath, a sharp inhale, the woman of Preussens descent plunged the dagger into her chest. Loyal until the very end, Carolina Temesch et Moere expected to meet her husband in the Seven Skies.

 

 

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Yet by morning’s light, the Archduke of the Petra had recovered - enough, if only briefly, to drag up himself, a hand moving to his right that he might rouse his wife as so long ago had become their routine. “Carolina,” he intoned, wearily, weakly. The man felt it then; her warmth, normally nearer to a furnace, now barely matching that of the room. It jolted him awake, his one good eye focused immediately onto her - and he saw then the love of his life, the woman that had so caught his eyes, and soon after his heart, upon his return to Oren - her last breath already taken. 

 

To others she may have looked at peace, asleep beside her partner of well over a decade. To him, he saw only his world collapsing. “...No,” was the aging lord’s muttered disbelief, leaning over, clutching her in his arms. A long, shaking caress; the salt of tears that had not flown to injury nor death before it. Then the archduke laid her back down, in her sleeping position. His hand reached over; clutched at the dagger that she had given him upon their first daughter’s birth. Paul, too, knew what must be done.

 

Before the first bells of the day rang out from Saint Emma’s Chapel, both members of that regal couple laid permanently at rest, fingers interlaced.

 

 

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Spoiler

Thanks to everyone in Petra for the amazing roleplay you've given both me and @bickando

Special thanks to bick for letting me be his minecraft wife . . . (i bullied him)

 

 

 

[tilly 5115]

“I’m an orphan,” the child destined to lead her people said to herself in the mirror, coming to terms with the fact. 

[Cepheid 4304]

The young Charlotte Roberta slipped out of her bunk in the early of dawn to the sound of guards shuffling about the corridor. She carefully poked her head out as russeted locks framed her features, hearing whispers of the passing of the Archduke and Archduchess amongst them as she listened quietly behind the sanctuary of a wall. Yet, there it remained carefully spinning a web in the dusted corner of the ladder that led to the music room. She reached out to let the arachnid crawl onto her palm and her gaze shifted out towards the guards and servants that mulled about. The whispers of their gossip echoed through the halls as she remembered the words of her father told to her the night before, "Where there is death, there is life. The promise of Temesch et Moere, you are my hope..." 

She quickly retreated back to the room where she carefully put the spider into the jar, wondering perhaps if it was all a dream or if it was the vision of Petra unfolding...

[Mescaffier 6197]

Some old Chancellor of Lurin was picking at her teeth with a crystalized talon, when she caught word of the passing from one of her errandboys. "Eh? Vhat's ... Petra? Ah'll have te' visit some time."

[Axelu 4333]

The Countess of Mardon mourned the losses of her dear friends the Archduke and Duchess that regretful month, lighting two candles in a vigil. "May their souls find the happiness they yearned for in life after it," She murmured, finding herself ever more distant from the vestiges of her former life.

[Burnsider 4566]

Prior David lit two candles with the Chapel of St. Emma and turned his head skyward. "Carry these two home in your embrace, Aengul of Death, and tarry not, for the Skies are their reward."

 

He scratched at his mostly gray beard and a frown deepened. "The young heir will be thrust into the worst of it now. May the Lord grant her Regent temperance and humility, for a sinner oft can find power hard to relinquish. And we are sinners all." At that thought, he signed the cross and bent down, slipping his hands into his sackcloth robe in order to tighten his cilice.

[exogens 934]

The Surgeon-General and Scholar Master of the Commonwealth would sigh heavily as he prepared some cloths over the two corpses in order to send them to the Morgue in the clinic as he asked for the physician that worked under him for the reports that he collected. The redhead would hum to himself as he said "May both of you reunite in the Seven Skies. I thank you both for everything you did for the commonwealth, and thank you Carolina for trying to help me and my sister when we needed it the most after the civil war."  before ordering his clinic workers to continue their work.