May 17, 1180
Laveria had been the only woman for whom Lonriad had ever considered buying flowers, but he never had, figuring they would be dismissed as frivolous and impractical. Now, though, he wished he'd taken the chance. A refusal by a living woman was infinitely preferable to an acceptance by her grave."I should have visited more often." And at Lonriad's age, his back would have protested--had protested, more than once. Never again would he let it have its way. "I never thought the last time I saw her would be... well, the last time I saw her," he finished lamely. He'd never been a poet at the best of times.
"You couldn't have known." That brought the total number of words Severin had spoken since they'd entered the crypt to four."No. But regardless, I should have come." He looked down at the roses again. The white ribbon had been a poor choice. Laveria had always hated white, as she'd had a messy occupation and white was impossible to keep clean. But black had seemed morbid. Pink, irreverent. No other color would have been any better. The red roses, however, felt right, or as right as they could have been. "But I suppose at my age, it's only a matter of time before I see her again."
Severin said nothing.
Laveria had been buried in the crypt at Severin's castle for lack of anywhere she might have preferred, empty save for her and dear Alina, who rested beside her. She had a simple tombstone, as Lonriad thought she would have preferred ("Why waste good money on me? I'm dead."), but there were some not-unpleasant carvings near the top and an attempt at a nice inscription, for all Laveria's life could never be summed up in five sentences or less. But perhaps it was better that way. Generations from now, when Severin and Nora, Jadin and Xeta and little Dalston, whoever followed them and whoever came next had filled the space, Lord and Lady Veldora and their children would come here to pay their respects to their ancestors and see the insufficient epitaph. Its emptiness would be maddening, unbearable. Poems and ballads would be written to fill it, but none would ever approach the truth.Not the whole of it. No one ever had.
"Did she ever tell you? Any of it?"
For a man who had no doubt spent his whole life searching for a moment to ask that question, his son looked remarkably calm. But that wasn't surprising. He was her son too.
Lonriad shook his head. "It was never mine to know."NEXT CHAPTER:
5 comments:
And now back to homework.
*grumble*
Cheer up, Van! The homework ought to be over soon!
And so many secrets die with Laveria. *sigh* I think Lonriad the Elder's response, though, is just about perfect. I guess it really wasn't his to know.
The flowers were incredibly touching, too. Maybe Laveria would have taken the flowers if she'd been alive. Or maybe she would have laughed them off -- who knows? At least the thought was there.
And at least Lonriad was here now.
Only two assignments left--problem is that they're both major. :S
(Should probably get cracking on the one due tomorrow...)
Laveria did take a ton to the grave. But Lonriad's response is pretty sage. And who knows? Maybe she'll tell him whenever they meet again.
I don't know if she would have taken the flowers. I suppose the possibility was always there. ;)
Lonriad's sentiments were pretty touching here, especially coming from him. He's never seemed like the most sentimental character. Seeing him mourn for someone that he was close to a long time ago, even though he must have been relatively estranged from her by the time she passed, was pretty sad. Where was Laveria's last husband buried? Would she have preferred to be put next to him? I wonder how Severin's sister feels about Laveria being buried in the Kemorin crypt. She and Severin barely know each other, and families can get pretty peculiar around the settling of funeral arrangements/a dead loved-one's affairs.
I guess even Lonriad has his sentimental moments. Whatever he and Laveria had, it was highly significant to him.
I haven't really thought about where Willott is buried. Probably in a churchyard near the village, which might have been an issue for Laveria because she wasn't a Christian. He might have been buried somewhere else, though. I'm not sure whether Laveria would have preferred to be buried next to Willott; she did love him, but she was always, first and foremost, her own woman.
I'm guessing Severin and Aerina at least talked it over. She might not be too happy about the arrangements, though, even if she did consent to them.
Post a Comment