Aimilia’s mother and Commander Cyprian came out next and Nikias exchanged respectful nods with them as they passed, Aimilia’s mother furiously whispering something to Cyprian.
Nikias didn’t like the look of that.
Where was?—
The door opened once more, and Nikias’ breath caught in his throat as she stepped out into the sunlight. Aimilia’s vibrant red hair was pulled up in an elaborate style with several twisting braids; a black and gold commander’s cloak was clasped around her shoulders and a black peplos could be seen beneath it.
She took a quick look over the crowd, but she didn’t even pause over Nikias. Instead her eyes narrowed on where Cyprian was organizing all the House Mitis commanders into a group to bear the casket to the graveyard outside the estate.
She set off, unaware the effect she had on him even now.
He’d gotten so good at hiding it out of necessity, he wasn’t sure if he could ever break the habit in public.
He especially didn’t like the way Turpis’ eyes also followed her, wandering over her figure with a grin as she caught up to her mother and Cyprian and quickly got into a hushed argument with them.
What were they fighting about now?
Aimilia grabbed his arm, scowl deepening.
He only realized he’d started moving toward her when nails digging into his arm stopped him in his tracks. His mother’s voice hissed in his ear, “Leave it, son.”
Aimilia stepped back from Cyprian, putting her hand on the side of the casket. Cyprian looked around to see more and more people watching them and taking notice of the scene. He nodded and turned back to the other commanders and lieutenants of House Mitis.
Soon enough they were casting and their runes lifting the casket up into the air as Aimilia’s mother began to lead the procession without Aimilia.
Nikias imagined the fight had been about exactly that, if Aimilia would carry the casket with the other commanders and lieutenants or if she would walk with her mother.
He was grateful that his black cloak would hide the bruises sure to form on his bicep as his mother finally released his arm. He and his mother took the first position behind the casket as the highest ranking Runai there and House Mitis followed behind them in accordance with their positions, and the visiting Runai at the very end.
Nikias steeled himself against the memories at the back of his skull, trying to push forward and overwhelm him.
Faustina was gone, and just because he was at another funeral didn’t mean she needed to be resurrected in any way. He especially didn’t need her ghost or any memories of her interfering with what he had with Aimilia.
Faustina was going to stay exactly where she was.
Nikias kept his focus on Aimilia at the front of the casket. Her cosmetics were doing an admirable job hiding her exhaustion and grief, but he could see right through it. He wanted nothing more than to break formation and pull her into his arms and for her to sink into them the way she had on the road, but he stayed where he was, taking one step at a time as they left the main estate.
Slowly but surely they made their way to the graveyard. Aimilia, Cyprian, and the other casket bearers set it on the ground and began casting anew as her mother stood beside the casket, and Nikias and his mother joined her.
Nikias watched the silent, somber affair as Aimilia and the other commanders used runes to dig the plot. Nikias couldn’t help himself from observing and comparing all their forms.
It wasn’t long before he came to his conclusion. If he was relying on Aimilia losing the competition in order to ensure he still had a chance to win her hand, he was in trouble.
He hoped it was his bias that was leading him to sweat a little, but he knew it wasn’t. Aimilia’s form was perfect, and she was moving faster and with more force than almost everyone else. The only commander who rivaled her in form, power, and speed was Cyprian.
Nikias watched her shoulders roll beneath the silky black fabric on her shoulders as she squeezed her eyes shut, pausing only for a second before pressing on with the last bit that needed to be dug.
What hope did he have?
He was no better off than the last time he’d worn these black clothes as the woman he loved slipped through his fingers and into the dirt.
But at least Aimilia wasn’t the one in the casket. As long as she breathed with no other man’s name on her neck, how could he not hope one day she might wear his?
Finally, they finished and each commander came to pay their respects to Commander Vires. Aimilia came up to the casket last. Nikias shifted in her direction as she approached. His mother’s hand dug into his arm again, gripping over the fabric, a sharp, painful warning.
One he didn’t heed.
Aimilia’s hands gripped the casket as she looked inside to see her grandfather’s embalmed features facing the sky. Her knuckles were white and he could see her biting the inside of her cheek as her eyes filled with water and her chest began to move rapidly from her barely restrained sobs.
