The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress-Chapter 357: Lady Jane’s last scandalous words.

For all his hatred of funerals, Sigrid did not think that Roland would volunteer to attend the funeral of the late Lady Jane Fairfax. But, that was how desperate he was to avoid all the Lords and ministers that he knew were seeking for his attention, concerning the matter or Akia Nithercott.

He was very uneasy, she could feel his body shivering on the inside like that of a cat. His stomach was even making some weird noises--grumbling. It could have been hunger, but who knew? Sigrid could not guess, she just held his hand and occasionally sneaked a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

Maybe eating candy at a funeral was not the greatest idea but this was Lady Jane’s funeral. A lot of things were going on that would be frowned upon more than the esteemed leaders of the empire eating candy.

Like the small group of four gossiping ladies that was huddled close together under sycamore tree, discussing Viscount Pemberton that appeared to be struck with more sorrow than the widower Lord Fairfax. The ladies were discussing the fact that Lord Pemberton had allegedly once been Lady Jane’s lover.

There was also the group of ladies that came dressed in cloaks with large colorful feathers. They claimed that they were honoring the late lady Jane as she had worn more feathery outfits than any other noble Lady in the empire.

The royal couple was certainly better than Miss Honour Wiggleton that was sobbing into a blue berry pie. Those that saw her wondered why she had brought pie to a funeral and why she was sobbing. She was too young to have been Lady Jane’s friend [sixteen]. The two had never been seen in each other’s company anywhere. So why she was crying even more than the children of the dead widow?

And then, there was Lady Percival, standing by the coffin with two drums of ale and sixty four bottles of wine. One for each year that Lady Jane had lived. She was insisting that this wine be buried with the dead. Her claim was that Lady Jane loved her drink in life and she would love it even more in the after life where she could finally drink with no judgement.

Sigrid actually found it sweet. Of all the people at the funeral, she was the only one taking Lady Jane’s actual preferences into consideration.

"We heard a great bond, Jane and I." Lord Pemberton slurred. Clearly, he was intoxicated.

His words made the widower frown and caused gasps among the ton.

Sigrid hid her face behind a lace handkerchief and chuckled. She was suddenly not regretting following Roland to the funeral.

"She liked her fox brew cold." Lord Pemberton bellowed, stumbled and fell over. He was close enough to hug the coffin and start wailing.

The crowd sniffled. Or giggled. It was hard to tell when everyone was trying to mask their reactions.

Count Fairfax glared at his son. Lord Pemberton’s valet and a footman dragged him away from the coffin and removed him from the funeral grounds.

Then came the reading of her last letter, kept in a black envelope that smelled like it had been dipped in twenty barrels of wine before being dried.

Why Lady Jane’s solicitor was reading the letter before the coffin was lowered into the ground was a myth to Sigrid.

"Oh no!" Roland groaned.

"What?" she asked him.

"This is not going to be pleasant." He whispered to her.

The solicitor cleared his throat and loudly read. "If you are hearing this, then it means that I am likely to be dead--or in hiding because I have finally admitted to myself that I am tired of looking at your unpleasant faces, especially you Derrick."

The crowd gasped.

"At least now, I don’t have to pretend that I am okay with the fact that you could not zip up your pants around a pretty face. Thanks for all the bastards and the shame you brought to me. I hope that a horse stomps on your..." The solicitor paused, cleared his throat and skipped over that part.

"Err...let’s skip that." he said. He raised his voice and started from another paragraph, "Lord Wickersham, you owe me seventeen copper coins which you borrowed at the harvest masquerade and refused to pay back. I refuse to die without letting everyone know that you are not an honest man. Lend him money at your own risk."

The solicitor tugged at his collar and sighed, "Lady Sybill, you can finally stop pretending to be rich. Yes dear, we all know that your dresses are sewn from curtains that we throw out at the beginning of a new season.

Duchess Crane, I broke your ancestral glass clock that looks like a cock and I lied about it. You must admit that I did you favor, it was ugly, but nobody dared to tell you this to your face. Oh...and your husband is sleeping with Lady Thistlebaum."

The solicitor had to pause. The task assigned to him by his client was a little too risky. Even in death, she was causing trouble.

"Viscount Durin, I was reluctant to report you while I was live but I will not spare you in death. In case nobody knows this at my time of death, then I would like to share the news that the good viscount and his sons are still partaking in the outlawed spring cleaning. There are five new concubines hidden in his house as of this season.

Lady Beatrice, there is a mystery child in Flower village that looks like your husband and no, it is not a coincidence.

Lady Iryne--not Armstrong but Thorin. I swapped out your husband’s prized fox brew wine from the year 99 with some cheap sherry and not a soul noticed. Cheers.

If anyone cares to know, the crown princess Sigrid did punch the crown prince on the day of their wedding and she did it again on their wedding night. She can deny it, but it is a fact.

Also, I might have come across one of your drawings of the naked crown prince and I kept it. I hope you don’t mind but I have passed it on to my daughter in my will.

If Emmah Fairfax is at my funeral, remove her immediately. I don’t want the whoring daughter of a whore tainting my last day in the world.

As for Reverend Wendell: Do not bother to pray for my soul to find peace. Just pour some wine over my coffin and fill the soil with fox brew. And I know you were not wearing undergarments when you gave that sermon at Lady Cornelia’s garden party last spring. freēwēbnovel.com

Finally, I hate you Lady Percival and I hope that at my of death, I have done something so scandalous that has ruined your reputation for good. If I have not---oh well, it sucks for me.

Thank you for being a great enemy, you were worth one thousand pretentious friends.

Forever scandalous, Lady Jane."

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