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“One, two, three, lift!” The band conductor raised the baton, and the music began. It was a solemn, deeply moving piece called Veyn, Please Don’t Cry for Me.
Karon liked its melody a great deal, and precisely because he liked it, he could not help feeling regret. The piece had been composed centuries ago by the musician Delmens specifically for the royal family, yet across the long river of history, it had taken on another life.
He could almost see it. After Queen Gloria finished accompanying Earl Rekar at the docks, she would return to the palace, wipe away her tears, and listen to this very piece.
With that shift in framing, the original weight and grandeur within the song’s solemnity took on, in Karon’s mind, a lingering, plaintive sorrow.
A song was like clothing; Style and cut mattered, but what mattered more was the person wearing it.
Of course, in the eyes of ordinary Veyn citizens, the royal family and Her Majesty the Queen were figures of devotion. Perhaps that was simply how distance created beauty.
Accompanied by the piece, the queen rode in the royal special edition Diamond car, entering the Allen estate, escort vehicles both before and behind. It was a large convoy.
In addition, the palace guard cavalry rode in, but seeing the guard on horseback made Karon uneasy. It felt as if any one of them might tumble off at any moment. Even as a showpiece for the palace and the royal family, they were shockingly unqualified.
By custom, after the queen’s convoy entered through the main gate, it did not stop until it arrived behind the manor.
The queen stepped out. At ninety-five, her age could not be concealed.
Thick powder had been applied to her face, so reporters’ cameras and the quality of modern photographs could...
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