Chapter 90: Cruel joke

**~ Caspian’s POV ~**

Not long after Aurora and I stepped away from Hazel’s side, I felt the weight of it settle over me again.

She was right...Hazel needed rest. Whatever had broken inside her had shattered too hard, too fast. Her body was forcing her to stop, even if her mind wouldn’t. But while she slept, we had a funeral to attend.

My room felt colder than usual as I stepped inside, the shadows already lengthening across the floor. I walked toward the tall wardrobe and reached for my black cloak. the traditional mourning robe reserved for full moons, deaths, and disgrace. Tonight was all three.

The cloak felt heavier than usual as I slipped it over my shoulders.

It would soon be evening. The Blue Moon would rise. And under its light... we would bury them.

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know which part ached more burying my brother... or burying her babies.

I had failed...It was my fault.

If only I had gotten there faster... If only I hadn’t hesitated. If I had pushed harder, run quicker, sensed something was wrong before it happened.

They would still be alive. Hazel would be awake. Laughing. Holding them. Smiling at me with that light in her eyes I barely ever saw but would’ve died to protect. But I had let it all crumble. I had let it happen.

My jaw clenched. My fingers twitched at my side, aching to rip something apart.

When I stepped outside, the air was still. Too quiet. As if the entire realm was holding its breath.

Cayden was already there, dressed in black, standing like a statue by the edge of the gathering field. He hadn’t said a word to me since that day. None of us had. Not really.

His eyes were swollen...something I’d never seen before. My brother, the coldest of us, the most ruthless, had cried. He wasn’t crying now, but he had.

And the thought that the only thing powerful enough to break him was the loss of his children... it made my throat close.

him. I knew she was doing everything in her power to keep him from losing control. One wrong look, one wrong breath, and Cayden could explode. And tonight wasn’t the

words passed between

in ceremonial robes, followed

only waiting for the

standing beside us, even if only to whisper one last goodbye. But her body had shut down completely. She had collapsed and hadn’t woken up since. And no one could tell me when or if she would., Still, it didn’t sit right with

our traditions, a body must not remain above ground for more than two days, or its soul could become

yet, we had no

a sacred burial. Even if their mother couldn’t

soon as the three coffins were carried out, the entire courtyard fell into a heavy silence. Not a single sound, not even

breaths caught

as the bearers knelt to lower the coffins onto the sacred platform, I heard the

Father leaned in, whispering harshly under his

you are crying like this," he added, his voice low but firm, "then what do you expect of Cayden?

can’t," she stammered, her voice breaking with each syllable. "I can’t..." I clenched my

small, too small

just before the platform and turned to the

the departed

and father walked forward for

trembling at his sides, stepped forward alone

I caught her attention

of understanding, though her

casket," Gina instructed, "and whisper their name. Say your silent prayer, and let your spirit speak what your

hand trembled violently as it hovered over the lid of Cyrius’ coffin. Her fingers never

hands on his twins’

whispering prayers

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