The funeral took place in private, Marina was buried in the garden of the palace. It was bitterly cold that day, but no one was bothered. The snow had receded a little and the lifeless lawn, with single brown patches, flashed through. The sun broke the snow into small crystal dunes several times. The whole scene was far too cheerful for the occasion. Mr and Mrs Temper were in the front row and looked distinctly uncomfortable. On the other side of the row of chairs was the royal family. Although the press was not to be involved in the matter, a brief moment of silence would be shown at the next broadcast of the report with a picture of Marina superimposed. I sat at the very back, burying my face under a black lace veil. Like all the other girls, I wore a simple black gown in vintage Chanel style. Coco Chanel had been a fashion designer in the 20th century and her style had endured to this day. In particular, her little black dress was a dress that was suitable for everyday wear as well as for festive occasions. I may not have mentioned it before, but I got a lot out of it when I worked for Madame Parisie. One evening, I was doing an overtime shift for once, she introduced me to the world of fashion and glamour. At first, I felt completely out of place, but then I blossomed from the colours and the fashion. Even though I could never realise my dream and went through life with dress conventions. I still felt the fascination of fashion on my fingers. I looked up briefly and could only guess what was going on at the front of the coffin. The sudden death of Marina Temper had hit us all. It was the first time in the history of this casting that none of the ladies tried to put themselves in the foreground. We humbly and demurely honoured that sad day that we all would not forget. I didn't hear the ceremony, I was too lost in thought, even when the prince gave a eulogy. His lips were moving, but that was all I could make out. Slowly, the ranks in front of me stood up and strode forward. In their hands they held a white dahlia, I guessed they were their favourite flowers. I felt ashamed that I didn't bother to find out who Marina Temper was. Was I not being hypocritical? I condemned the monarchs for their narrow-mindedness and ignorance, but I was no better. I promised myself from that day on to devote myself more to the other ladies. Maybe I would also find a girlfriend. When it was my turn, I walked gracefully and thoughtfully to the coffin, reached into a pile of native soil with my black glove and threw it down with the flower. At that moment the dahlia turned blood red, I squinted and it was white again. The footprints of the others also turned blood-red. Once again I had let my eyes deceive me. The next moment I felt dizzy. What was wrong with me again. I bit my lip. Had I eaten anything today? Apart from the dry rusk, nothing. "Shall I keep you company until we reach your room, Mylady?" Mylady, I hadn't been called that for a long time. I looked up and recognised a male stature under the veil. My cheeks glowed slightly as I smelled Nicola's perfume. "Gladly," I nodded and slowly caught up with the prince to the others.
We were asked to go to our rooms and stay there for the rest of the day, lunch and dinner were served in our rooms. I sat on my balcony and let the cold of winter take its toll on me. Nicolas wandered up and down my chamber. He killed her, you're sure of that, Belle?" he asked me for the third time since we'd been alone. I turned to him: "Nicolas, it's obvious. Leopold is more powerful than we think. He must have an ally in the castle." He pinched the bridge of his nose and propped himself up on my dressing table: "I blame myself so much for not being able to protect all of you. The only way I could think of would be if we moved to the country estate in the south. We haven't visited it for a long time." He paused to speak: "How am I supposed to explain all this to my parents without mentioning you directly?" At that moment, I started to speak, and a loud intense scream rang out in the corridor.
We froze for a moment and looked at each other, but then we stormed out. At that moment I didn't care whether new rumours were stirred up. The prince came out of my room with me. Mercedes was sitting like a heap of misery in the corner and was being comforted by one of the maids. Her room door was ajar, yellowish light poking through. Some ladies were standing around her, others just had their heads poked out of their doors. There was silence only Mercedes was still whimpering and could not be calmed. "What happened here?", someone finally asked the crucial question. "Were you attacked, Lady Mercedes?", the prince looked down at the lady. She did not answer. "No, Your Highness," the maid replied instead. "You'd better not go in there!", she called as Nicolas tried to open the door to the room. "Why not?", he raised an eyebrow and tried to open the door again. "
"Your Majesty, please, you may not enter," the maid tried again. Nicolas Kantonie was about to reprimand her when Martin and the other guards squeezed through the crowd. "We heard a shout and came as fast as we could." The situation was summed up succinctly. Thomas, a lower-ranking guard cleared his throat and whispered something in Martin's ear. The latter frowned and then nodded: "It is at your discretion, Your Highness." "Please wait here for now," Thomas unlocked his gun.
I could tell by the click. It brought back unpleasant memories, memories I had already suppressed. I was still very small, my family was at the weekly market. We were going to buy groceries, and out of the blue, a riot ensued. "Down with the king, down with the king!" People jumped from every corner and threw themselves into the raging crowd. My father stood in front of me, fearing, as he told me later, that I might be trampled. "Abolish caste segregation, exile the aristocrats, execute the king." There were more exclamations, but I was still too small that I did not remember the exact words. Anyway, at some point, they became more aggressive and started aiming hard potatoes at obvious threes and twos. One woman, who was obviously a four, tore the cloth from the body of a lady standing higher up. The red colour flashed in the sun like the holy grail. Her bright curls shimmered and she repeated the words of the rebellious people. The crowd shook with excitement and joy. At some point there was a clack beside me, it was someone unlocking their gun. Then followed a shot both upwards and into the crowd. Panic broke out. Children were separated from their parents, policemen came and beat down anyone who tried to resist them. Since that day, the prices of food had been driven up so high that it was no longer possible for four people to buy those goods.
The guards stormed into the chamber and found nothing except an open window. They came back with confusion: "There's only the window open, is that why you were so frightened?" The girl shook her head: "She killed herself..., I tried everything, but she just jumped." Mercedes broke out brittly, pulling herself closer to her maid. Her sobs were duller than before.
The prince was asked to step into the room as well. The door was closed. I waited tensely in front of it, who was the girl who had killed herself? Hours seemed to pass, but it was only a minute. Finally, the door was opened and Nicolas came back with a blank and stressed expression in his eyes. I had never seen one like that on him before. In one hand he carried a letter. Nicolas could not look any of us in the eye: "Lady Annabeth Benisch has had an accident, I ask you all to go back to your room. I must deal with this matter in peace. Until further notice, do not leave your room except in exceptional circumstances." His fingers tightened more and more as he continued to speak. "Lady Mercedes, you have permission to stay in a room other than yours." At that moment everything happened as if in time-lapse for me, someone pushed me past. I asked myself the following questions. Why had she done that? Was I going to die next too? The Prince made his way past us ladies, his shoulder brushing mine, and I felt a surge of several emotions at once that only increased my palpitations. Without thinking I ran after him, the guards were behind me and hurried after me. As I turned the corner, I called out desperately: "Nicolas, wait!" He did indeed stop but did not look at me as I had hoped: "Belle, please, I don't have the strength now. I want to be alone." His words hurt me. But?" hot tears welled up in my eyes. His posture stiffened and he grew cold: "Go to your room." I stepped even closer to him and wanted to touch him on the shoulder, but he flinched. He roared and looked me angrily in the eyes: "I said no! What don't you understand?" How could he leave me alone with all this? How could he behave so disgustingly in this situation? I bit my lip as a few tears crept down my cheeks and also flinched when he tried to apologise to me. "Don't touch me," I hissed, hurt. The guards had caught up with me in the meantime and were watching the scene. Nicolas cleared his throat as he folded his arms behind his back: "Please escort MyLady Woodstock back to her room." Then he turned quickly on his heel and disappeared. My heart beat faster and I started to feel sick.
As I closed the door to the hallway, I retreated into a corner and was now fully overcome by my feelings. I sank along the wall and clung together in a heap of misery. I could no longer make out what else had happened that evening.
The next day I learned that Annabeth had not broken her neck when she put herself through the window and fell more than 10 metres into the white snow. She was now in intensive care. The doctors were trying their best to make sure she survived, but it looked very critical. Nicolas had read the letter but had not told me what it said.
I was so deeply hurt from yesterday that I didn't bother to go and see him. I also returned his flowers and other gifts of reparation. The flowers he gave me some time ago were already hanging their heads. I would not forgive him for a long time.