This chapter was partly inspired by
@RedKing
It was as if the universe itself had stood still. Not a single figure moved. Any wind from before swiftly stopped. Falling raindrops seemed to have evaporated. For a while, though in reality, likely only moments everyone stood frozen. Liam lay, blood oozing outwards, riddled with blood. His gun still in now loose, pale fingers. Cutting through the silence, one of the guards, if they could even be called guards having failed miserably at their one job, spoke. "Queen Victoria is dead!" Who, now shall rule?" Despite this, as the truth sunk in, people did not scream or run. Instead of looting, trampling those in their way, like wild animals, they merely remained wherever they was.
"Edward, perhaps?"
"Do not be
foolish." Someone replied dripping with hatred.
"Whoever suggested Edward may be King, is right."
"The Empire....ruled by a mere ten year old?"
"If not Edward then who else?"
"But...."
"I fear we have not yet seen the worse of what will arrive."
From amongst the crowd of peasants and guards emerged at least seven figures. Dressed in mainly black, rain-stained clothing, a few pulled behind them carried the standard thick, clumsy carriage for doctors.
Who had alerted medical authorities? It didn't matter. Not really. Silently approaching Her Highness, she was draped in three thick, inky black covers. One of them briefly stared, visibly enraged at Liam's body. "It is true." He whispered almost inaudible. Children began crying. Mothers, fathers, merely pulled their young to their chest remaining quiet. "Perhaps we should set about moving everyone on..." After-all, funeral arrangements need to be made." Howard, an elderly doctor suggested, running leathery hands through greying, thin hair. Two guards, their faces hardened by war, turned, visibly pale.
"W....why?"
"Why?!" Boys are you soft in the head?" Britain cannot function without King or Queen!" Howard snapped.
"We..we didn't...we couldn't." Boom." One of the guards mimicked gun-shots, strangely at his own chest. His friend nodded, shaking slightly.
"You
couldn't?"
"This...." It wasn't our fault!"
Sighing, Howard softened his expression. He knew from treating Opium and Ashanti War Veterans that they wouldn't be able to serve as guards anymore. It wasn't at all uncommon for soldiers, especially
boys to be traumatised. Witnessing an assasination and gunning down a mere boy in the street during what would've been joyful celebrations could certainly justify tramua. "Yes...yes..." I know." Speaking softly, Howard managed to calm down both traumatised guards at least keep them relatively feeling eased. He knew what would come next, not just short-term but long-term events were going to be dark. Hope was something everyone needed.
Though how could anyone have hope? With Victoria dead....enemy nations may take advantage. If Britain was The Lion then The Lioness had been killed meaning all nearby Hyenas were preparing for attack. Shaking away such horrifc points, Howard turned as more guards arrived, lost on how to proceed
. Indeed dark times were befalling Britannia, possibly her globe-stretching dominions.
Pictured Sir Howard Miller, Liam(last name unknown), just after assassinating Queen Victoria.
