Page 72 of Immortal Sentry

Eron filled his lungs and spoke as loudly as possible so that everyone in attendance would hear without misunderstanding. “I, Prince Eron Eritrescue of Hisar, second son of King Lothan Eritrescue, accept the rights and responsibilities afforded me as king. Like my father, I vow to lead with the people in mind, placing their needs before my own and not bowing to the whims of the few.”

A few hearty cheers came from the surrounding attendees.

Kerric might as well have been the statue he became every day, holding totally still. He’d be here for Eron, even though his position as a guard and Eron’s as king might keep them apart.

A stuffy little man Eron had only seen as a lapdog for Bain approached, holding a golden crown set with rubies. Another memory slotted into place of his father showing Eron this crown while sharing stories of each king who’d worn the circle of gold.

Not the pretentious crown Bain wore—Father’s crown.

Back then, Eron had been jealous that Dafron would one day take their father’s place. How he wished to bring his brother back now. Eron bent at the waist, allowing the man to set the crown upon his head, and straightened to the sound of applause.

Kerric’s men fell to one knee. “Your Majesties,” the first one said. Could that be Malcolm? Eron vaguely remembered him, though he hadn’t had silver hair and eyes then, and neither had Kerric. “It’s so good to see you both alive, back where you belong.”

Lessa smiled, though tears streaked her face. She’d be a much better ruler than Eron ever could hope to be. He motioned her closer.

Lessa came forward, step by slow step. Eron took her hand. “Princess Lessa,” he said, deliberately ignoring her title of Queen of Anilitk, “was forced into a marriage with King Selin. From this day forward, he has no ties to my sister. Should he choose to make their elder son his heir, so be it, but the children will remain with their mother. She is granted rooms in Hisar castle until such a time when she wants to leave of her own free will.” That was if Selin survived his injuries.

No one made a sound until Kerric began to clap. Others joined in. Not everyone, but they’d learn to accept the new order.

Lessa’s eyes went wide, shimmering with tears. “You really mean that?”

“You wanted to be free, didn’t you?”

“Yes!” Lessa grinned through her tears. “And I don’t have to kill anyone for it. Thank you!”

Murmurs went up from the assembled. “Quiet!” Eron roared, finally sheathing his sword. “My second decree is this. Female heirs will no longer be excluded from the line of succession. If they are the most suited for rule, then we only harm ourselves by not crowning a woman. And thus, while I am my father’s son, I am not his oldest heir nor the most suited to succeed him.”

Eron removed his crown, sinking to his knee, somewhat awkwardly, due to his armor. “Princess Lessa of Hisar, do you accept the duties and responsibilities of the queen, ruling on your own and not merely as a queen consort? Do you vow to lead with the people in mind, placing their needs before your own and not bowing to the whims of the few?”

Lessa's eyes went wide, then immediately filled with tears again. Her vigorous nod freed the remaining hairpins that had thus far kept her braid coiled to her head. Her braid fell down her back. “I, Princess Lessa Eritrescue of Hisar, daughter of King Lothan and Queen Salcha, accept the rights and responsibilities afforded me as queen. Like my warrior queen ancestors, I vow tolead with the people in mind, placing their needs before my own and not bowing to the whims of the few.”

Eron rose as gracefully as possible, placed the crown upon Lessa’s head, and kissed both her cheeks. Clasping her fingers and holding their joined hands aloft, he declared, “Citizens of Hisar, I give you your queen. Long live Queen Lessa of Hisar.”

No one still standing hesitated to clap and call out their congratulations this time.

Once the crowd settled down, Eron said, “May Gertia guide you, dear sister.” Would that be enough to break the curse? Eron scanned the crowd. No Kerric.

Eron longed to find him, but many nobles stopped him and wanted to consult with him. He owed it to the people to calm their fears.

He dashed from the room at the first opportunity, down the hallway, and up the stairs to the top. He frantically rushed out to the ramparts, yanking off his helm and leaving it on the ground. The first light of dawn crept through the trees, turning the sky pink and blue. Kerric stood where he always had during daylight hours—where he’d stood the first time Eron saw him as a gargoyle.

This time, Kerric stood as flesh and blood, not stone, and no longer in armor. “I cannot believe it.” He stared off at the woods. “I’m seeing sunlight with my human eyes, feeling the warmth on my face.” Kerric whirled, taking Eron’s face in his callused hands. “Thank you, King Eron. Now I will serve you faithfully, should you decide to keep me in your employ.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Kerric stared at the space where his gargoyle once stood. “Because I let your father, your family, down—"

Eron shut him up the best way he knew how grabbing Kerric by the shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Hmmph!” Kerric said as Eron dragged him toward the wall, then pushed him back against the stone. When Eron came up for air, Kerric said, “But—”

Eron shut him up again. They stood for many moments, Eron’s body pressed to Kerric’s, which couldn’t be comfortable for either, given Eron’s armor. He readied his argument before releasing Kerric’s mouth. “You followed the chain of command like any good soldier would. I cannot fault you for your loyalty. But you have something wrong.”

Kerric’s brows furrowed. “What’s that?”

Eron watched carefully to judge the impact of his words. “I’m not king.”

Kerric jerked his head up, meeting Eron’s eyes. “What? But the curse—”

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