CHAPTER 6
The following day was Christiana’s funeral and Anita walked to the Temple of the Body with Cordelia, Alastair and Bas. When they got to the Temple, Cordelia and Anita found seats in the open section at the back and Alastair and Bas walked the seemingly endless distance to the front, where they had seats reserved for them with the rest of the Councillors and their families. As was customary, those belonging to the Temple of the Body were given first priority over the newly laid out seats, and those belonging to the other Temples took any seats left over, or stood at the back. The Body Temple didn’t have the same colossal, open, expanse as the Spirit Temple. As opposed to sky-high pillars holding up the roof, the Body Temple had a series of high arches splitting the space into distinctly separate, but still relatively open sections. Every Temple had a clear run from at least one entrance to its altar. In the Spirit Temple, pretty much every entrance had this, but in the Body Temple, many had to sit in side chambers with views obstructed by the intricate brickwork. The Mind Temple was a total nightmare for large public events, as the spaces were so closed off that only a very fortunate few ever got to see anything, but that’s how the Mind Descendants liked things; small and elitist.
Twenty minutes later, all the seats were taken, and a massive crowd stretched out behind the ropes that had been erected to keep a pathway clear for the coffin. Christiana had been extremely popular, mostly for her fairness and generosity, and many people had travelled from Kingdom to be there.
Music wafted back through the Temple from a harp at the front, bouncing around the arches and up to the spire above, vibrant yet haunting music that made the hair on the back of Anita’s neck stand up as the procession of the coffin and the Descendants began. Everyone turned round in their seats to watch the coffin, carried by six Body Councillors, enter the Temple, with Peter and Gwyn following immediately behind. They were both wearing black cloaks and Gwyn had a black birdcage veil across her face, with small white flowers in her hair. Very theatrical, thought Anita. Behind them was Alexander, also with a floor-length black cloak, his dishevelled hair looking a little more tame than usual. He had his usual regal-yet-rugged look about him, like some ancient knight about to wield a sword in the pursuit of the righteous. Anita noted that his energy seemed to be less prominent than normal and wondered how he was able to mask it as he did.
Finally, Austin and Marcus entered the Temple, both also in black cloaks, but theirs with a red trim running around the edge. They can’t even show her respect at her funeral, thought Alexander. As he entered the Temple, Alexander unintentionally inclined his head in Anita’s direction, feeling her brazen energy. She really needs to learn to hide that, he thought, noticing he was a little riled as he moved on.
Austin was in front of Marcus and looked every inch the evil dictator as he sauntered into the Temple. Marcus, however, looked regal, his chiselled features as glorious as ever as he strode after his father. He spotted where Anita was sitting and looked directly at her, locking his eyes with hers as he ascended the steps. Anita held his gaze and hoped people hadn’t noticed. He neared where she was sitting and broke eye contact to keep from having to turn his head, continuing up the aisle to join the rest of the Descendants. Cordelia looked sideways at Anita but didn’t say anything. She knew Austin and Marcus had given Anita a lift home after the Chase, but after that look, she wasn’t sure if that was all that was going on.
The funeral was short but emotional. Austin gave the opening speech, which most people thought a little strange. He explained it away by starting, in his normal, cloying, voice, ‘as the only current reigning Descendant…’ Anita rolled her eyes as he said it. There were several moving tributes to Christiana and the spectacular Body feats she had achieved during her life, along with accounts of her generosity to those of all Temples. Peter gave a gripping insight into life as the child of someone so exceptional, however, the most moving account was the last, from Alexander.
‘…and at the age of five, when I had recently lost both my father, in a tragic fire in this very Temple, and my mother, of a broken heart just a few months later, it was Christiana who guided me. Over the years she was a source of unparalleled council. She was a leader but not a dictator, she was competitive, proud, stubborn, but above all compassionate. She observed the world around her, striving not to control, but to understand. She was a source of hope, believing in honesty and doing what was right, even when this path was the most difficult and dangerous of all. But Christiana’s mortality was part of what made her great, and her time had come, as it will for us all. Our deep and painful loss is truly the Goddess Tatiana’s gain.’
At the end of the funeral, the Descendants and Councillors processed out with the coffin. Christiana’s body would be transported back to Kingdom where it would be buried alongside her ancestors. The crowd started to disperse as soon as the procession had left the Temple and Cordelia turned to Anita and fixed her with a curious look. ‘I didn’t realise you and Marcus were such good friends,’ she said pointedly.
‘We’re not,’ replied Anita. ‘Why do you say that?’ she asked, offhandedly, hoping to throw Cordelia off the scent as she got up and filed out of the Temple with everyone else.
‘You know just fine why I say that. We can talk about it later,’ she said, having just spotted Alistair and Bas. Anita was following in her wake, totally preoccupied by thoughts of Marcus’ alluring gaze, when she felt someone’s presence block her path. She looked up to see Marcus and her energy immediately responded. Get. A. Grip. Anita. She counselled inwardly.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi,’ Anita replied, eyeing him with a ‘can I help you?’ kind of look.
‘I was just wondering if you’d given any more thought to my invitation?’
‘Oh, was that what it was?’ she asked, feigning surprise. ‘You see, I was under the impression that it was more of a command than an invitation.’
Marcus looked back at her, a disorientated look morphing into a playful one. ‘I see. Well for that I must apologise, Anita, I should clearly make an effort to clarify. Anita, Champion of the Chase, would you do me the exceptional honour of attending the ball with me?’ he asked, in a flamboyant, dramatic way.
‘I’m not sure that invitation was afforded the level of gravity I would expect for something so important. How am I to know your invitation is earnest?’ she flirted back.
‘You’re concern is the sincerity of my proposal?’ Marcus responded, although Anita wasn’t quite sure if he was jesting or not.
‘There is a certain delicious frivolity to it,’ she replied, not meaning to take the flirting to quite this level in such a public place, ‘but I suspect your invitation is genuine.’
‘Well in which case…’ he said, looking expectantly at Anita.
Anita paused, considering how to respond. Should she say yes? Cleo would certainly be happy. She tilted her head up towards his, looked searchingly into his eyes. It strongly reminded her of their encounter by the river, and she could see in his eyes that it had brought it back for him as well. Luckily, at that moment, Austin’s voice came booming across their thoughts.
‘Marcus. There you are,’ he said, seeing Anita as he reached where they stood. ‘Ah, the champion. How are you, Anita?’
‘Very well thank you Austin, and you?’
‘Yes, yes, very well,’ he replied affectedly, before casting her aside. ‘Come on Marcus, we have a lunch to get to.’ And without another word, Austin dragged Marcus after him, Marcus briefly looking back at Anita, who mouthed the word ‘maybe’ at him as he departed.
Anita felt elated as she spotted Alistair, Bas and Cordelia and made her way over to them. She had managed to put off giving Marcus an answer for a bit longer and had got the last word. ‘Where have you been?’ Cordelia questioned suspiciously as Anita joined them.
‘I just spotted a friend and said hello,’ she answered defensively, which wasn’t entirely untrue.
&nb
sp; ‘We’re heading up to Alistair’s for lunch,’ said Cordelia, ‘I take it you don’t have any other plans?’
Bas looked at Anita; he clearly wanted her to join them. ‘No, I’m free as a bird,’ sighed Anita. ‘Lead the way.’