The day dawned, dark and dreary. Lightning was streaking across the sky and thunder echoed off the mountain amplifying the sound and causing windows to rattle. Duke Varyn has passed the night before. The staff had dropped the black banners to announce his passing. Many in Speria mourned and more feared his passing with the new royals in the area.
The funeral home director looked out the door, seeing the people about to arrive he made busy with preparations. The door opened as he finished the final preparations for the coffin to arrive. He watched as the Duke's men, his personal guard and caretakers laid the casket on the stand in great reverence for the man. Many paused to lay a hand on the casket lid and whisper their goodbyes.
As the men filed out and took a stand outside one remained behind to perhaps stand vigil over the casket. A serious look on his chiseled features as he stood there, back straight and hands clasped before him. Many people started to file in, and his gaze looked over them all slowly, carefully, one by one as they approached and sat down. Some stood in the back of the room, whispering among themselves while others stood outside.
The funeral director began to speak, but it was in that moment that a green haired woman, probably too much absinthe, screeched there was a vampire in the room. People made the sign of the cross and started looking around frantically. This was a superstitious country and this area even more so. Glances shot between people to see if they were among the undead, but no one was seen, and the woman was soon taken in hand to have a seat and a soft discussion with the Sperian Psychiatrist.
The looks soon subsided but there was an obvious glance or two leveled on the green haired lady, perhaps she needs to take a bit more opium. It would not be surprising if the woman saw the static end of the psychiatrist therapy equipment in the asylum in the hospital. Many made not then of the new royals that entered. They were fancy, as a Romany woman whispered, not of Speria and strangers to all there. Whispered filtered through the room and stares. There were voices wondering what would happen now to Speria, if they would be as supportive as the old Duke. The Mayor of Speria was spotted bending to whisper to them and a collective sigh. The new mayor was well liked it seemed and she had always shown that she supported the people first.
Many people went up to pay their respects to the Duke, one seemed to sprinkle something from a flask on his casket, others left flowers and the rest good words. The man of the Duke's that had stayed seemed reluctant to let go of the signet ring. Was this a sign of the new Duke's character? There was something there to wonder on it seemed but the new Duke was dressed in fancy as was his sister when he introduced her, Prince Alexander was his name and three was a lot of fancy words after that but the people seemed more interested in how he looked and acted than his name.
The procession was solemn as the Duke's casket was loaded, some still wondered why it was closed for the Duke was a handsome man that miraculously seemed to never age a day. He carried a strange familiarity in face and form to his former generations as well, 400 years that line had run this castle and each male born greatly resembled their father. Never shown to the public until their 17th birthday, a tradition they said, to not expose the son to potential assassins. People at the pub said they must be breeding the same bloodlines to get that kind of familiarity.
As the procession made its way into the graveyard people paused. The stallions at the head of the carriage were striking, jet black and lovely. The Romany conclave would surely have had a hand in their breeding. Black manes swayed in the wind and rain. As heads tossed the water shed from the manes sprayed about the people and hooves gently stamped the damp earth. Nostrils flared and then they eased as the Duke's man moved off the carriage to join the others putting hand to casket rail and moving towards the mausoleum.
The gravedigger looked on. The man had been the caretaker of the Damnelor Cemetery for a long time now and most avoided him. As he moved forward the keys on the ring rattled. The key holder for the crypts for all the royalty. The sound of the key being placed in the door and the grinding of the lock pierced the silence. The creaked of the door echoed into the depths of the Mausoleum and the people watched as the men moved the casket forward and listened as the stone crypt was opened and he was laid to rest.
The final sound of the lid sealing the crypt seemed final and a collective sigh moved over the small crowd as the men filed out one by one. They each in turn laid a hand to the back of the Duke's man and gave him their goodbyes. It seemed they were leaving, all but one, who once more stood vigil outside the Mausoleum door. The Duke is dead, The Duke is Dead, and in the shadows of the trees a man with piercing blue eyes watched, a low growl rumbled in his chest as gaze fell on the Prince and his Sister.
"You're next, and your whole fucking family." with those words he moved off through the cave and down, down to Suntomorat.