We buried her today: our beautiful queen, our beloved sister.
She deserved a grand procession, like the mighty queens before her. Her people should have packed the streets, lighting candles in her honor and throwing flowers at her feet. Saying their goodbyes.
But the Usurper forbade it.
So we took Althea the Good to the temple and built a pyre. Beneath a weeping sky, we spoke the words of parting and pressed holy kisses to her forehead. We anointed her bloodied body, wrapped it in white shrouds, and released her to the Ancients.
And when all that remained of her was ash, we prepared for the worst.
—THE DEATH & BURIAL OF QUEEN ALTHEA, WRITTEN DOWN BY THE
ACOLYTES
