Chapter 10

As the cherry blossoms danced in the wind, Misaki opened the old diary and read the words of promise written there.

---

Having been instructed by Bishop Arthur on the etiquette and the day's proceedings for the state funeral, and simultaneously drilled in social skills by Sergei and Foreign Minister Elena, the day of the state funeral finally arrived.

Noble lords and ladies of the kingdom, prominent merchants, and renowned craftsmen representing the commoners, as well as kings and their representatives from neighboring countries. In the chapel of the central cathedral of the capital, where over a hundred attendees had gathered, Slayn stood to witness the ceremony to bid farewell to his father, Flederick, and his family.

"--- God does not give us trials we cannot overcome. This has been said throughout the ages. Even in the face of this immense tragedy, we, as God's children, must move forward. Though we are now crushed by the sorrow of losing a great king and great people, time will heal us. The flow of time will wash away the pain, and what remains will be the memories of good days and their great history. For now, let us accept that they have found eternal rest in God's presence. And—"

Slayn listened to Bishop Arthur's long sermon from the front of the attendees.

Dressed in all-black ceremonial attire, Slayn, as the crown prince, was the host of this state funeral and stood alone at the front. Behind him stood the important figures of the kingdom and the rulers of the surrounding regions. He could not help but feel their gazes piercing his back.

Naturally, Slayn was far from comfortable.

These were the big shots of society, with whom he had yet to properly exchange greetings. It was not hard to imagine how they viewed Slayn, who had been a mere commoner just a little over two weeks ago.

They must be thinking, "Who is this guy?" Probably all of them.

Slayn felt an overwhelming sense of tension. Just standing there in prayer made his legs tremble.

Glancing sideways, his eyes met Monica's, who stood in the corner of the chapel. Her slight nod, barely noticeable to others, gave Slayn a bit of relief.

"--- Then, Your Highness, the Crown Prince. Please place the wreath on the coffin."

Called by Bishop Arthur, that sense of relief quickly vanished.

Among the several roles Slayn had to perform at this state funeral, the first was to place the wreath on the coffin. The funeral for the king's brother and the duke's family, who were the king's sister's family, had already been held separately, so Slayn would place wreaths on the coffins of his father, the queen, and the former crown prince, their legitimate son.

This task was to be performed by Slayn alone, and all the attendees' gazes would be focused on his every move.

Nevertheless, this sacred duty had to be carried out by Slayn as the crown prince. He could not be a crown prince without performing this task.

"..."

Suppressing the trembling in his legs, Slayn stepped forward and took the wreath held by a priest, one of Bishop Arthur's subordinates.

Following the practiced movements, he placed the wreath on Flederick's—his father's—coffin.

In the Eynsion faith, cremation is common, and it is preferable to cremate the body as soon as possible after death. The remains of Flederick and the others had been cremated, and the coffins contained urns with their ashes.

Thus, Slayn had never seen their faces in death. He placed the wreath on his father's coffin, a man he barely knew.

He was sending off his father, the queen his father had loved as a husband, and his half-brother. By focusing on this, he managed to complete the ceremony without slipping, falling, making a mistake, or fainting from tension.

---

After placing the wreaths, Slayn's mental burden during the state funeral was somewhat lessened.

Next, the coffins would be carried out of the chapel while hymns were sung, then out of the church, through the main streets of the capital, into the castle, and finally to the cemetery where the urns would be placed.

The coffins would be carried by soldiers of the Royal Guard, and Slayn would follow behind them. Additionally, Monica and the nobles in their ceremonial robes would surround Slayn, and the kingdom's soldiers would form a perimeter around them.

For Slayn, the key was to avoid making mistakes in the flow of exiting the chapel, the hymn lyrics, and the simple etiquette while walking. The gazes of the gathered citizens along the route would be somewhat shielded by the nobles and soldiers.

He just had to walk forward mindlessly, enter the castle, and quietly watch the urns being placed in the cemetery. Thus, the state funeral would end. This solemn ceremony, which would be remembered as grand in the future, did not allow Slayn the luxury of fully appreciating its solemnity.

And the truly challenging part was yet to come.

While Slayn and the others were placing the urns, the other attendees had moved to the grand hall of the castle and had begun socializing. Although it was not a lively banquet after the funeral, they held wine and light refreshments, exchanging greetings and conversations.

The opportunity for all the noble lords and ladies of the kingdom, as well as the kings and their representatives from neighboring countries, to gather in one place was rare. For those who had fulfilled their duty of attending the state funeral, this was a valuable time to expand and deepen their networks and gather information.

The battlefield of socializing for the nobility. Slayn had to enter this as the main character of the day, no matter how anxious he felt.

"His Highness, the Crown Prince of the Harsenvale Kingdom, Prince Slayn Harsenvale, has entered!"

As Slayn entered the hall, the guards at the entrance announced it loudly.

At that moment, the hall, which had been buzzing with conversation, fell silent. All eyes turned to Slayn, and unlike during the state funeral, he had to face them head-on, causing him to take an involuntary step back.

The attendees quickly returned to their conversations, and the silence ended.

However, it was clear that their attention was still on Slayn. Anxiety welled up inside him. It seemed to him that all the gazes were filled with mockery, and all the laughter sounded like ridicule.

"Your Highness, please be at ease. I will assist you. As long as you do not misname the other party and can deliver a standard greeting, there will be no problem."

"I will also be by your side, Your Highness."

"…Yeah. Thank you both."

Slayn nodded stiffly at the words of Foreign Minister Elena Estelgrain and Monica, who was his adjutant.

He gently touched the rutile quartz necklace adorning his neck. Rutile quartz is a stone that symbolizes good luck. He silently prayed for luck, hoping not to make any mistakes.