The End of a Reign

Queen Anise took a position behind the podium, as she would be the first to address the nobles. 

She placed her gloved hands against the wooden one behind it, then closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled through her rounded lips. 

Once her blue eyes opened once more, her right hand moved up, in a motion for the crowd to listen to her words. 

"Thank you to all who gathered here today to remember the deeds of our precious King Felix," she began, all eyes in the room on her. "I'm sure all of you here were saddened when the news of his passing came to light."

Fennel watched his mother closely as she gave her speech. He regretted that he did not pay much attention to the types his father would give when addressing the noble populace. If he had paid more attention in his childhood to the way the king formed the words, he may have had better confidence in his own abilities.

He continued listening as she recalled her first meeting with Felex, the marriage, and the way he had ended war and famine. Eventually, she came to the topic of the young prince.

"Our citizens need to weep no longer over his passing, as in his place, a new generation shall take the touch. Prince Fennel Satnuro, King Felix's own flesh and blood, has accepted to take the crown. Have faith, as the creator has blessed us all with a new leader to carry on his legacy."

From the audience, Oliver listened closely. The Queen was magnificent. 

As the audience burst into blaring applause, the bard watched as Fennel was gestured by his mother to recite a speech of his own.

The bard sighed when he saw Fennel replace his mother's position at the podium. The prince stood tall and had a look of determination, but Oliver could tell it was an act. He hoped the prince wasn't too nervous as he stood in front of the crowd.

There was an extended moment of silence as the copper-earred feline gazed out at the crowd. The bard had difficulty guessing what was going on in the royal's mind from the blank expression on his face.

Queen Anise gently prodded her son. He nearly jumped when he felt her elbow nudge his waist. 

Fennel had been lost in a daze, so he was thankful his mother helped him snap back into reality.

"Good afternoon," Fennel said with a charming smile. "I appreciate each and every one of you being here today. The show of support for my father has deeply touched my soul."

Fennel smiled brightly toward the attendees.

"King Felex was not just a leader. Behind the scenes, he was a wonderful father. My first memory is actually of spending time with my father, riding on his back as if he were a horse. Though usually busy, when he had free time, he made his best effort to spend time with me. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have been able to grow into the man I am today. I will think about him every single day, for as long as I live. I will follow his exact path once I am king. We have all learned a lot from his gentle rule. I will just say one more thing: Father, I love you."

The crowd clapped as Fennel made a nervous nod in their direction. He wasn't exactly satisfied with the speech he had made, as he had lost his train of thought, but he felt he did fine considering it was the first time performing a public speech.

After a few more of the nobles spoke, the highest ranking ones assisted with carrying the casket out of the throne room, with the Queen leading away to the royal graveyard to the northwest of the palace grounds. 

Once the casket was in place, staff for the funeral lowered it as everyone watched from a distance.

A priest led a prayer for the king as Oliver played the lute. The piece he played was one the queen had earlier requested. It was an old song the previous court bard had composed in honor of the former king.

After the prayer, Oliver continued playing the melody, which was interjected with the bard's enchanting voice at various internals.

'Oh, King of Peace, with a crown of light,

You brought us together, day and night.

From mountain to valley, from sea to shore,

We sing your praise forevermore.'

Fennel loved the voice. The bard was singing in a lovely countertenor voice. It was a tone the prince had never heard before, and the way the notes flowed off the silver-earred feline's tongue was beautiful.

Queen Anise kept her composure during the entire funeral. There was not even a hint of sadness from the perspective of casual onlookers.

As Fennel watched, he was amazed that his mother didn't shed a single tear. He wondered if he would ever have even a fraction of the strength she had.

Queen Anise was truly amazing. If she had decided to keep ruling, the prince was sure the kingdom would be in better hands compared to his own.

After it wrapped up, Fennel felt he couldn't stand to be around the other nobles much longer. As he headed for the hill overlooking the town, he saw Callie flirting with a different male. 

This time it was the royal knight, Miles. Miles was quick to brush off her advances. The prince internally laughed at the scene that had unfolded. It seemed she was having a string of bad luck in her attempt to persuade a man into becoming her husband.

He let out a soft sigh, his ears folding back slightly. He couldn't believe she would move on so quickly. Fennel was obviously her first choice, as he would be king, but the rejection had her seething and made her search even more unrelentless.

The princess seemed to hate rejection, but she was only met with it. 

"What's wrong?"

Fennel looked behind him and saw that the bard had followed him.

"Oh, hello," the prince said.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked.

"I am, thank you," Fennel replied.

"What's got you down, Fennel?"

"Well...," Fennel trailed off.

"What is it?"

"It's silly," Fennel said, looking away, his ears lowering further.

"No, tell me," Oliver encouraged.

"It's just that, seeing Princess Callie, she moved on so fast. She was just trying to talk to you a short time ago, and now, she's flirting with Miles. I just don't get her," the prince sighed.

"Well, if she's so eager to move on, then there's nothing you can do," the bard shrugged.

"That's not what I meant," Fennel mumbled.

"It's just, why did she even try so hard if she could just toss me aside?"

"I'm not sure why it's bothering you," The bard let out a small laugh.

"I guess because I know she would just try to use me," Fennel's eyes lowered. "I don't understand her."

"She was willing to throw everything away, which isn't worth it. If you love someone, you should put the other person's happiness ahead of your own. Not only that, you wouldn't want someone like that, anyway."

"I don't understand her. Why did she think that was a good idea?"

"People do a lot of dumb things in the name of love."

"Love is a strange thing," Fennel frowned. "I don't understand anything about it, or her desire to find a husband with such haste."

"Indeed, it is," Oliver agreed. "I suppose it's normal for a young woman to desire to wed."

The feline's eyes met the bard's, the two locking gazes.

Both were unaware of the longing within each other's hearts. Both had fallen for each other.

Both were afraid of the feelings.

Neither spoke of their true feelings.

"I will see you tomorrow," Fennel said, breaking eye contact. "I just need some time to myself and my thoughts."

"Yes, I'll see you then," Oliver agreed. "Let's make our way there early. I am sure my mother will feed us, so could we leave at sunrise?"

"Yes," Fennel agreed with a soft smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

They parted ways.

Both wanted to turn back and speak of their true feelings, but they couldn't find the words.

It was too complicated of a situation. It was if they both would keep the secret locked in a box with no key forever.

The bard's heart was racing as he headed to his quarters. His cheeks were still warm from the look the prince had given him. He didn't know if it was just his imagination or if the feline had looked at him as if he were a sweet pastry he wanted to eat.

The bard was thankful that the funeral had finally come to an end. He hoped the nobles would leave and life could go back to normal, as much as it could without a king.

His body felt heavy. He was exhausted after the long day.

When he entered his room, he placed his lute delicately on the bed. He wanted to keep it safe. It had been a gift from his mother, so he would be devastated if anything happened to it. His mother had cherished it, but life circumstances made her unable to hone her talents.

It had been a long day, so the bard was grateful he could finally lay down.

He removed the ornate robe and replaced it with a more comfortable, casual choice of clothing - including his favorite simple, green tunic.

Oliver sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers over the strings of the lute. He thought about the piece he was going to play in honor of the new king at the coronation. It would be the song the prince seemed to enjoy—the one he wrote himself.

He picked up the lute and closed his eyes. He wanted to write lyrics for the song, but he was worried his words wouldn't be able to accurately describe how he felt about the king. He needed to keep it subtle and mostly focus on what the man would bring to the table as a king.

Oliver began to play the melody. As he played, he attempted to sing. The words coming out of his mouth, in a melodic whisper, would not be singable in a public setting.

He set down the lute, then grabbed a quill and paper. The ideas flowed onto paper, but he had to continuously mark out words and replace them.

It was a mess. He wanted the first lyrics he ever wrote to be about the man he was falling for. It was only right that, as a court bard, he express himself through music. 

A thought came to him: he would compose two versions of the song. Oliver would write lyrics for public listening and another version he wished to play for Fennel someday in private.

The first lyrics were going to be the private version. As he wrote, he thought of the prince's smiling face. His heart beat in overdrive as he wrote the words down, allowing them to freely move to paper.

When he finished the rough draft, he sighed. There was no way he would ever be able to play the song for the future king.

He folded the paper and placed it in the bottom of the box the Queen had given him. 

He would keep the lyrics a secret and hope for inspiration to strike him for the edited version for the coronation.

As he drifted to sleep, the bard's mind was filled with dreams about the day he would spend tomorrow with Fennel.