NationStates Jolt Archive

It was a bright and quiet day. Children ran and played in the parks, people carried about their business and it was a day that seemed fairly normal. The cars still ran, and rationing eased up a little. Trams began to run again and as did buses. People would have entered the capital city of Troyes and assumed it was like this everyday. Granted, it was like this everyday. The duma closed it's session early today so representatives milled about on the palace green. King Sven XI wanted to enjoy the warmth of the day along with his country's people. He and his staff walked up and down the green, past the masonic lodge, and into the Duma. He walked north to the Palace hotel for lunch. He couldnt help but smile for some photos outside the Troyes Reporter. He went on inspection tours, kidding around with young children at the ocean park. He and his staff stood in the massive ferry terminal. Rays of light poked through the colored pieces of glass in the giant dome. The clock chimed 1:30 and he looked up to see figurines dancing around the clock. Shots rang out. Everywhere was panic. Women with prams and strollers rushed out of the doors. More shots. The King's bodyguards rushed out of the starbucks and frantically searched for the king. There slumped on the ground, was the limp, lifeless body of Sven XI. Ambulances began to appear at the entrances and police officers rushed in. The assasin stood on a circular bench. Looked around, and smiled. He shouted, "I'm glad I killed the Fucking King". He put the gun to his chin and fired the gun. He slumped over onto the marble floor. One medical staff member checked over the king and announced the king was dead. A sleek long black hearse stood at the door as bodyguards carried the bullet riddeled body of their king to the hearse.

The body of King Sven XI laid in state in the Politiburo building for a week. It was soon time for Popeleomans to bury their beloved king. A massive procession went down Mason St. Across the bridge and into the city of Chalons. It turned right onto Bacorn avenue. Past buildings dressed in somber black. Many people lined the road dressed in black. They bowed and knelt as the horse drawn funeral carriage passed by. They passed the mint and the symphonic hall. The carriage turned and stopped outside of St. Joseph's Basilica. Prince Andrew and his sons were were some of the pall bearers. They handed over the coffin to the royal honor guard. They proceded into the massive royal mausolem. The king was interred without any problems. Outside, cannons fired a 21 gun salute as well as a rifle salute from the guard. The groundskeeper ushered the marble layers in to place the marble piece over the hole. As soon as they were finished, the groundskeeper ushered them out. He trotted down the steps and people began to file in and out of the mausolem to throw a rose petal into the eternal flame in the center of the room. The ceremony lasted for three more weeks as people from all over the country and world participated in a last event for their king.