Heavy Lies The Pink Glasses

Prolouge

The steady, relentless Apexian rain beat down against the fabric of a dozen black umbrellas, creating a low, drumming hum that drowned out the quiet sniffles of the high court. The air in the royal cemetery was freezing, carrying a damp chill that seeped straight through the thin soles of Maeve's formal shoes. She stood on the wet grass, the handle of a heavy velvet umbrella gripped tightly in her right hand, angling it carefully to ensure Aria was completely covered. With her left hand, Maeve squeezed Aria's fingers, which were cold as ice and stiff as marble.

Aria didn't squeeze back. She didn't even seem to feel it. She just stared blankly at the dark wooden casket hovering over the open earth. The signature platinum streaks in her pitch-black hair were plastered against her cheek by the stray mist, and her face was entirely devoid of color, looking almost as ghostly as the fog rolling over the hills. Next to her stood her mother, the Queen, looking impossibly statuesque and stoic under her own veil, though her hands trembled slightly against her black lace skirt.

The preacher, clad in heavy embroidered robes, held a leather-bound Bible open in his palms, his voice echoing solemnly across the misty graveyard. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," he spoke, his deep voice carrying a hollow resonance. "We return our sovereign leader to the soil of the kingdom he served with unwavering devotion. May his soul find the eternal peace that the burdens of the crown so often deny. Rest now, Your Majesty, for your labor is done, and your lineage stands secure."

Maeve looked past the preacher's shoulder, her gaze cutting through the wall of somber faces. Standing directly opposite them was Emi Smith, flanked by her brother, Kaito. Kaito stood tall, his expression smooth and practiced, but Maeve couldn't look at him without a bitter taste in her mouth. Before Emi had aggressively maneuvered herself into the spotlight to claim the crown, Kaito had been the one officially arranged to marry Aria. Seeing them side by side was a harsh reminder of how the Smith family rotated their siblings like playing cards, always ensuring they had a foot in the door to the throne.

Just behind them stood the old Duke and his two sons. Maeve didn't recognize the oldest brother, but her eyes locked onto the younger one, Ren. He was wearing an expression of deep, performative sadness, adjusting his dark coat with a calculated sigh. A knot of deep anger and disgust tightened in Maeve's chest just looking at him. She would never forget the way Ren had treated her when she first arrived—the vile, elitist hazing, the way he'd leaked edited photos to the media to frame her as an uncultured thief who didn't belong in Apexia. He had tried to destroy her scholarship and her sanity just to protect the "purity" of the court's bloodline, and seeing his fake mourning face right now made her stomach turn.

Yet, looking around at the sea of lesser nobles and palace staff, Maeve knew the sorrow in the air was mostly real. People truly loved the King. Even Maeve, who had barely known the man, felt a quiet ache in her chest. She owed him a debt she could never repay. He had been the silent force who had allowed her to stay in Apexia, quietly overriding the high court's early attempts to expel her when they viewed her as a distraction.

Her mind drifted back to the drive to the cemetery. The entire capital was unrecognizable. The vibrant, bustling streets she remembered were completely frozen, every single local business and market stall shuttered in a mandatory sign of national mourning. Huge royal flags hung at half-mast from every stone balcony, dripping with rainwater. Inside the limousine on the way over, Maeve had watched the broadcast on the built-in screen. A somber news anchor had announced the official details of the King's sudden, fatal stroke over and over again, declaring a month of national grieving. The entire country was broken.

The preacher whispered his final amen, and the mechanical whir of the straps began, lowering the casket slowly into the wet ground. As the court began to break apart, turning into their respective cliques and heading toward the line of waiting vehicles, Maeve gently guided Aria away from the open earth.