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A PRINCE'S DEPARTURE

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John of nau valdev spends a week crying "Why godan why. I would have given my life to spare my king and queen this pain"

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The young grand heiress of Hyspia heard of the news from her home, and signed the Lorraine. She sat in the church of Blessed Francisco after and prayed for the late Boris. "Dear DIOS. . May Boris be happy in the Seven Skies. ."

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A palm pressed against flattened abdomen as Milena heard the news, still awaiting the return of her husband from his spiritual pilgrimage. The grief of that royal loss echoed throughout the halls of the Kastell Lesanov--but it was only another piled onto their growing number of tragedies. Her superstitions led her to think that perhaps the castle itself had been cursed, burdened by the weight of unseen consequences. It only made her grateful that she and Josef had yet to bring any child of their own into the world.

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Sigmund Ludovar lowers his head letting out a deep sigh upon the news. As he gathered his brothers and sister, along with his father. They'd make way to the Cathedral to pray for the King and Queen's infant son that had passed.

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"My God.." 

Is it right to be happy, in these circumstances? Arabella thinks of the conversation earlier, of her good news? Is it right to be happy? Is it horrid of her to be elated? When someone is suffering with something so horrible. Should everyone suffer along with them?

 

How can she let herself be happy when the world is in so much disarray? 

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Within the evening hours, Svetlana sat diligently by the Queen’s bedside as she recovered. Her hand clasped onto the clammy palm of Juliya as they both remained silent for sometime- what was there to say?

 

Instead, the Ruthern read to her -keeping her mind preoccupied with anything aside from the devastating looming loss that she was suffering through. 

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The scarred woman was returning home from a visit to the Heartlands, a rare respite from the busywork which seemed to consume her whole life as of late. Spying her friend John of Nau Valdev manning the gates, she opted to pass through there instead of the citizen doors, but was shocked to be greeted with tear-stained eyes instead of his usual stoic demeanor.

"Miss Nataya. Our baby prince is dead," the guard uttered in a wrecked, hoarse voice.

 

"No- this can't be," came her shocked reply "The boy was only just born, and healthy as a horse!" Her denials rang hollow as she paced past the gates without another word, a cold numbness gripping her heart. She had to see the Queen.

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--

A street urchin who appeared to be in her late teens took to the square in the wake of such tragedy, strumming a heartfelt melody from a well weathered lute as she sang. It was a bittersweet song of grief and mourning as the entire kingdom seemed to weep in unison, united in loss.

--

Oh sweet little prince,

Y'absence leaves us filled with woe

Wish it been y'needed nay go
Forever in our hear's may y'remain

For our days will nay be th'same

Sleep well, beloved Boris

Forever known, forever missed.

--

 


 

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