The Figure Approaching
The sun struggled against the clouds and won, casting a fleeting brightness across the burial place. Alexander took another sweep of his whiskey, his gaze drifting towards the headstone of his mother, Elodie. She had fulfilled her duty to the nation by producing an heir and forging alliances through marriage, thereby enhancing the royal lineage. That was all she had achieved. She had failed as a mother. His mother.
She had let go of herself and her son because of the infidelity of her husband. He had lost both of his parents at the same time.
"Brand celebrates another birthday tomorrow," Alexander murmured to her headstone. He took a small sip of his whiskey, his eyes staying on the engraved letters on the stone. "He wants to have a small dinner, and I shall join in the celebration."