CHAPTER FOURTEEN (BURIAL)

As he was being carried to the grave with his casket floating in the air in between strong masculine men using their powers to carry him, soldiers stood at attention and saluted as they passed through the golden carpet spread in the middle of the lined up soldiers until the place that has been drugged to place the casket in.

The men carrying the coffin only had small wrappers tied around their waist and oil rubbed on their skin made them shine under the evening sun that was already going to rest.

Adorned with jewelry (despite being a king, she is still a woman after all) King Nenma came first followed closely behind was her mother. They both slowly walked to the tomb of the late king Bajju with flowers in one hand which was not a custom but something the king learned from her missionary teachers.

Flowers are a symbol of life, they grow and continue to bloom even in the harshest of weather. Though the person might no longer be around, the memory and legacy live on and her dear father's memory will never fade away, not now, not ever.

They had sand in their other hand but when they got to the grave where the king large six feet under in a casket, King Nenma choked on the tears about to fall from her eyes, she held them back quickly and luckily for her, she was wearing a golden veil on her head to cover her face.

She also had to obey the rules and traditions that a king was never allowed to cry, come in contact with a corpse, or see the corpse directly without a veil. These were rules her father, a soldier never obeyed but she had to obey them or what kind of king would she be?

"Careful my king. A great king must never cry." Said the love of her life, her prince, to her as he was standing by her side.

"My father never obeyed that rule but do not worry because I am not as stubborn as my father. I will surely obey this rule." King Nenma replied and forced a smile.

They threw the flowers at the same time onto his casket and turned around. Facing the elders and other kings under the Kugama kingdom, they poured the sand over their heads into the grave.

They said a few memorial chants and King Nenma walked away holding back her tears and clenching her fist at the memory of how her sister murdered their father. The queen couldn't hold back her tears and turned around to look at her husband one more time and she fell by her husband's grave weeping bitterly.