Chapter 1413
Number One Mansion.
Just as dawn was breaking, everyone had already gathered.
Clayton and Pamela, Blossom and Winona, and Keaton and Booker Murphy were all there, along with Gale.
Everyone was dressed in the same black attire, waiting in the grand foyer of Number One Mansion for Tarquin.
The kids had woken up early too, looking especially sharp today.
The four brothers were dressed just like Tarquin-black suits and trousers, crisp white shirts, black ties, and matching armbands. Each wore a white lily pinned to their lapel. Their hair was slicked neatly back, all in the same style.
Elysia and Baby wore matching black dresses with simple blazers over the top. Their hair was pulled back in low ponytails and their makeup was subtle, elegant, and solemn.
After Tarquin returned, everyone gathered together to discuss a few final things.
By a little after five in the morning, Tarquin was on the road with Elysia and the kids.
On the drive, Elysia reached out and took Tarquin’s hand.
“I saw online-the Bradford women went to the old estate again to stir up trouble p>
Tarquin gave a wry, dismissive snort. “If they want to dig their own graves, I’ll let them p>
Elysia squeezed his hand gently. “You know exactly what kind of people they are. Don’t let them get to you—they’re not worth it. They’re nothing like your mom p>
Tarquin nodded. Women like them-would they ever put country or family above themselves?
They claimed his mother didn’t deserve a place in the Bradford family plot, but honestly, having her there was a blessing for the Bradfords. If it weren’t for his father’s grave, he’d never have allowed it.
“I’m not angry,” he said. “Today, they’re the ones who should be upset p>
Elysia nodded, giving his hand another reassuring pat, then twined her fingers with his.
She didn’t say anything else—just sat silently by his side, quietly supporting him. The five kids were unusually quiet today, too. They sat in the backseat, not squabbling or chattering, their faces serious and respectful.
The church wasn’t open to the public today. At the entrance, besides Tarquin’s own people, there were a few plainclothes security-Soren’s men.
Tarquin led Elysia and the kids inside.
Soren was kneeling at the altar rail, hands clasped in prayer for Elizabeth. The priest said softly, “A soul who kneels so long carries a heavy heart.” Soren had been there since last night, kneeling motionless for hours.
Tarquin walked up, gave a respectful bow, and called quietly, “Soren p>
Soren opened his eyes slowly, red-rimmed and tired. “You’re here,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Tarquin looked at Soren with a pang of sympathy.
He stood up for his parents’ love, but
he also respected Soren
deeply-admired his sincerity, his selflessness, the way he loved without claiming or disrupting always protecting, always caring, even if it meant loving from afar. s
And he couldn’t help but pity Soren-devoted all his life, never able to win the heart he yearned for,
forever
fin a prison lave had
built.
s
Just as the priest had said: a soul marked by suffering.
Soren turned away to wipe his eyes, not one for small talk. He glanced at Elysia,
then at the kids.
Elysia greeted him politely, then nudged the kids forward.
“This is Soren. Say hello to Soren p>
In perfect unison, the kids chorused, “Hello, Soren p>
Soren rose stiffly from the kneeler.
“Good, good,” he said, voice thick with emotion “Come on, kids. Pay your respects to your grandmother. She loved children more than anything.” s
The kids stepped forward solemnly, joining Tarquin and Elysia as they lit candles and knelt to pray for Elizabeth.
They bowed respectfully to the priest and the attending elders, thanking them for watching over Elizabeth these past days.
The priest took the white marble urn holding Elizabeth’s ashes from the altar, and placed it carefully in the sturdy oak box Tarquin had prepared.
Tarquin lifted the box in his arms, and Elysia gently draped a scarlet cloth over the top.