The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress

Chapter 373: The queen of emotional frostbite.

Roland Maximus was not sure if he knew how to grieve the death of the woman that gave him life. He knew how to fake a smile when people said to him ’I’m sorry, you have my deepest sympathies, it is a pity, sorrows and more perfunctory words that were said to console one who was grieving.

He just didn’t know if he was grieving and he was tired of hearing people tell him how sorry they were. What were they sorry for? Had they been responsible for her death?

For two days, he had been unable to consolidate what he was living and this was the third day and he was numb. He could hear a ringing in his ears, the priest was giving a sermon in the royal chapel and despite his mouth moving he could not hear a thing that was said.

He was looking at the large picture of his mother that was encircled in a wreath, sitting on top of her closed casket.

She was smiling!

Roland could not remember the last time he had seen Queen Maurelia De-Kensington smiling. He was sure that he never saw her laughing. Every time he met her, she had been stern and impatient. Cold and cruel. Unloving--unfeeling.

"We should be thankful for the great things that out late queen did for us and the legacy she has left it behind." The priest said.

Despite not hearing most of the sermon, he heard those words and he almost laughed. Thankful!

What a word! What did he have to be thankful for?

master of emotional

and the royal chef baked a nice cake. The servants had decorated the ballroom and looped in the royal musicians to perform for them. All he wanted was

his friends out. She had told him very coldly, "Your birth was not an achievement, if it was, your father would be here." And then, she proceeded to throw the cake to the ground and push

school when he got the opportunity to play a role in a play. When she was invited up to give a speech, in the presence of everyone, she had shared that he lacked talent and if he had been trying out for the role of court jester, he would not have got the

forget when he forgot his riding gloves at the age of eleven. She had forced him to stand outside her chambers barehanded

more of his time to things of no

the moat and told him to cleanse himself of unnecessary thoughts. He had a

away to Stormwind, she did not bid him farewell or wish him well or visit him even once. She never wrote once letter to

of his coming of age ball, she had looked over him once and said, "At least you inherited your father’s looks.

One dog had died at the hands of Consort Rina. The other, at the hands of his mother. It was a puppy that Rudbeck’s father gave to him, and he

it with an arrow and claimed

great woman." Someone

smile at Her

dead and I will not mourn her. No, I will not miss her and I will not remember her. When I have children, I will

him

"Mmm." He responded, absentmindedly.