CHAPTER 77 - ONE KING, ONE QUEEN AND FOUR HEARTS ---- CAPÍTULO 77 - UN REY, UNA REINA Y CUATRO CORAZONES
On the day of the funeral, dawn broke with a pale, almost non-existent light, as though the sun itself had chosen to mourn. Upon stepping out into the street, an officer guided them to their position in the procession. John was placed in a discreet yet honourable spot. From there, he could see the beginning of the cortege—the slow, precise movement of the grenadiers, the muted gleam of their helmets, the royal standard draped over the coffin. The sound of the drum began like a distant heartbeat. Then it drew nearer, deep and solemn, until it seemed to reverberate within his chest. When the coffin emerged from Westminster Hall, the crowd fell into such complete silence that only the horses’ hooves striking the cobbled pavement could be heard. John moved forward with the rest of the contingent, keeping perfect step, his gaze fixed ahead, his breathing measured. On either side of the street, thousands stood watching in silence. They did not weep openly. They did not shout. They did not wa...
