Chapter Text
They all knew it was coming. Though Yaad lived far beyond what he thought his original expiry date should have been, Delgal’s body was still considerably aged when the dungeon collapsed, and so when the servant brought Marcille the news one morning, it was hardly a surprise. That didn’t make it hurt less.
He wasn’t dust at all. A flesh and blood body, resting in bed with a peaceful expression, silver locks strewn over the pillow. Healthy, full faced. Nothing like Marcille’s father had been, in his final years.
Yaad hadn’t exactly been a parental figure in the years they’d worked together. But Marcille knew she’d grown to see him as a comfort, bringing his vast expertise in court, as much as he tended to worry about every little thing. A mentor then, and a good friend.
It was the first state funeral that Melini had held under Laios’ reign, she realized. The remaining members of the kingdom’s ancient past mourned their beloved prince, and the citizens of the new era mourned a respected advisor and statesman. A banquet was held, and Marcille suddenly found herself making decisions on funerary decor.
It got to be a bit much. Neither Kabru nor Laios minded when Marcille excused herself to take a moment alone.
She found herself wandering into the kitchen, and without much thought opened the pantry to see an assortment of well organized vegetables.
Something stirred in the back of her mind, in a voice that sounded awfully like Laios.
Eating is the privilege of the living.
A few days later, Marcille gave a speech about Yaad’s life and accomplishments in Laios’ court to about fifty attendees at the funeral. She didn’t really remember everything she said, but people were going to remember what Laios said better anyway.
When they sat down to eat, it was a considerably modest dinner that was laid out, save for a large tureen at each table. Laios met Marcille and Kabru’s eyes, and the three of them rose—Kabru having taken Yaad’s place on the king’s left side, with Marcille on his right as usual.
“Lord Yaad spent many centuries holding onto his sanity under the curse of immortality,” Laios said, “not feeling any satisfaction in eating, sleeping, or drinking. But slowly, he was able to find joy in living again, alongside so many of his beloved subjects. Tonight, we dine on our honored friend’s favorite dish, that we may remember to share such joy in the time we have left.”
Laios lifted the lid of the tureen, revealing a simple beef and vegetable stew.
Once the king had begun eating, everyone followed. Marcille lifted her spoon up, a chunk of beef and another of carrot sitting in a robust broth.
Placing it in her mouth, she let the savory taste wash over her tongue. Humble in looks, but rich and earthy in taste, and loved by so many people. A sort of dish that was truly timeless in its own way.
Yes, Marcille thought. It made sense that Yaad would find happiness in a simple stew. He was never one for opulence, despite being a prince.
Thank you, for all your help. We’ll miss you.