Page 122 of The War of Four Winters

"Hollow," he admitted. "I expected to feel... something. Victory. Grief. Instead, there's just emptiness." His fingers brushed my cheek. "Except when I touch you. When I hold you, the world makes sense again."

I pressed my forehead to his, sharing breath in the small space between us. "Then hold me. For as long as you need."

We lay there gathering strength for what lay ahead. Tomorrow would bring Tarathiel's funeral. The day after, Ruith would stand before the Assembly and make his first decrees as king, and then we would need to plan for the final confrontation with Michail. But tonight we had each other.

Ruith

TheAssemblyHallvibratedwith an energy I had never felt before. Rainbow light scattered across the marble floor from the ancient windows, painting the space where I had faced trial for treason mere days ago. Now I wore ceremonial robes of deep plum, the Starfall color that had once marked rebellion transformed overnight into the emblem of legitimate rule.

Fragrant plum blossom branches and winter lilies adorned the chamber, their scent overwhelming the lingering smell of battle that still clung to the city. Representatives from all twelve clans occupied their traditional seats, faces ranging from enthusiastic support to carefully masked resentment. There were some new faces, but not many. While my political allies held the majority, I would find no easy passage of laws in that chamber. Good. A king served best when he was challenged. I intended to be a king for all the people, not just those who supported me.

The galleries overflowed with observers, both elven and human. Among them, I spotted Elindir in the front row. He smiled proudly and leaned over to whisper something to Leif, who sat beside him. Torsten scanned the chamber, absorbing everything with that quiet intensity of his.

"Let the Assembly rise for the ascension of the true king," the Herald announced, his voice carrying throughout the vast chamber.

I fought to keep my face impassive as the Herald approached, bearing the ancient scepter of kingship on a cushion of midnight blue. It’d been forged by the first kings, simple in its make, but perhaps more powerful for it.

The Herald paused before me, his face solemn with the weight of tradition. "Ruith Starfall, who has completed the sacred hunt, who bears the ritual markings and has been tested in blood and fire, who has been chosen by our people to lead them into a new age. Do you swear to uphold the ancient laws while forging new paths of justice? To defend the realm and all who dwell within it? To rule wisely and justly in service to the people of this realm?"

"I swear it," I replied, my voice steady. "By my blood and breath, by the stars above and the earth below, I swear to serve the realm and all its peoples."

"Then by the authority vested in me by the Assembly of the Twelve Clans, I name you Ruith Starfall, the First of His Name, King of the Elven Realms, Protector of the Yeutlands, and Defender of the Ancient Tribes."

I took the offered scepter, testing the weight of it. It was perfect, even more natural in my hands than a sword, perhaps. The Assembly hall erupted into applause. I raised my hand, and the silence gradually returned.

“Thank you for the faith you have placed in me,” I began. “I beg patience from the chamber as I fulfill the first of many promises made.” I turned back to the chamber entrance and beckoned. “Taelyn Wolfheart, come forward.”

Murmurs rippled through the assembly at that, some approving, others wary. I continued, my voice gaining strength.

Taelyn entered the chamber in a dress of storm gray and silver and knelt before me.

"Lady Taelyn Wolfheart stood with me when others faltered. She lent her wisdom to our cause when it seemed most hopeless. She fought alongside our warriors and guided our council with steady hands." I extended my hand toward her. "It is my honor to name her not merely consort but equal ruler, Queen of the Elven Realms, with full authority to command in her own right and with an equal voice in all matters of state."

The Herald brought forth a second scepter, this one slightly more delicate.

"Do you, Taelyn Wolfheart, accept this symbol of rulership and the duties it represents? Do you swear to rule with wisdom and justice, to protect our realm and all who dwell within it?"

"I do so swear it," she replied, her voice carrying throughout the hall. "By my father's memory and my own honor, I will serve our people faithfully."

I took the scepter from the pillow and knelt, presenting it to her. She took it with a smile and the assembly applauded, though I noted some exchanging glances of confusion. There would be questions, and many tests in the coming days. Some that would see Taelyn and me at odds, no doubt. But whatever came, we would work through our differences for the good of the realm.

"The first decrees of our joint reign are as follows," I announced, standing. "Let them be recorded in the archives and proclaimed throughout the realm."

The Herald stepped forward, parchment in hand, ready to transcribe the formal declarations.

"First, we recognize the Yeutish territories as free and independent sovereign lands. No longer will we seek conquest in the north. Instead, we will forge bonds of trade and mutual respect with those who have fought us for generations.”

“We command the Herald to call forth Kudai Batan of Naalaihir,” Taelyn’s voice rang out clear above the gasps and murmurs that followed.”

The massive doors of the Assembly Hall opened, and Kudai Batai entered. He moved with the grace of a mountain cat despite his enormous frame, each step deliberate and measured. Furs of white wolf and silver fox draped his shoulders, intricate leather armor beneath telling stories of battles won and territories defended. Unlike the elaborate elven robes around him, his attire spoke of wind-swept plains and endless skies.

Kudai approached the center of the chamber, his gaze sweeping across the assembled representatives. No bow. No subservient gesture. He stood as an equal, a king meeting king.

I stepped forward to meet him. "For generations, our peoples have known only conflict. Raids. Retribution. Endless cycles of violence that served no one. Today we break that cycle."

"We recognize the Yeutish territories as a sovereign realm,” Taelyn declared. “No longer will southern elven kings seek to claim your lands in conquest. Instead, we offer partnership. Mutual respect."

Kudai's response came not in words, but in a gesture so profound it silenced the entire chamber. He removed a medallion from around his neck—a circular piece of worked bronze depicting a wolf standing atop a mountain, surrounded by intricate spiraling patterns. The medallion bore marks of generations. Scratches from battles. Repairs that spoke of survival.

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