Page 114 of Path of the Dark
38
A New Start
NINIA’S CORONATION TOOK place in the throne room of The Swallow Keep.
The cavernous space was packed with standing room only. The roar of excited voices rose high into the spider-vaulted ceiling, only ceasing when trumpets blasted, announcing the princess’s arrival.
Ryana stood in the front row, between Elias and Asher.
Dressed in Anthor finery, a crimson cloak rippling from his broad shoulders, Elias was distractingly handsome this afternoon. Only the fact he held himself gingerly hinted that he was still recovering from his wounds. The prince would need to convalesce for a while yet at Veldoras before making the journey south. After that he too would be crowned.
King of Anthor.
Ryana dropped her gaze to the polished grey marble beneath her feet.
She was happy for him—she really was—but when he’d told her that Nathan and Ninia had both endorsed him ascending the Anthor throne, she’d felt as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach.
It was foolish really, expecting him to walk away from his destiny.
He was an Anthor prince and the only surviving heir. Of course he’d take the throne.
However, she’d been on edge and unhappy ever since hearing the news. She’d reduced her visits to Elias and had kept her distance physically. She needed to prepare herself for the inevitable.
She’d never forget him, but their paths were about to diverge. She had to ready herself for it.
“Ryana … are you well?” Asher asked, intruding on her thoughts. “You look pale.”
Glancing up, Ryana flashed her friend a smile. “It’s this gown … I think the servants did the corset up too tightly. I can hardly breathe.”
“It reminds me of the gown you were wearing the eve we met,’ Elias murmured from next to her.
Ryana turned to see Elias favor her with a slow smile. Of course, he could see straight down her cleavage. The silver-blue satin gown was low-cut in Thûn fashion; it left the upper swell of her breasts on display.
Frowning to mask the fact that her lower belly melted at that smile, Ryana tore her gaze from Elias.
Bastard.He was making this even harder than it needed to be. He didn’t seem to even care that things were about to change for them both. On the brief occasions she’d seen him over the past three days, they hadn’t spoken of the future.
“Look,” Mira hissed, tugging at Asher’s arm. “There’s Ninia!”
A vision in silver and black—Thûn colors—appeared at the end of the throne room. Head held high, Ninia began the long walk to the dais, where the Swallow Throne awaited her.
She looks like a queen already, Ryana thought, her throat constricting.
Of course she did. Although Ninia had cast off her lineage for a while, eventually she’d had to accept who she was: heir to the Swallow Throne. Ninia was an enchanter with a rare gift, but she was also the only surviving member of the Thûn royal family. Despite Reoul of Anthor’s best efforts, she’d not only survived but thrived and matured. Ninia was still young, yet she was ready to take the crown.
Ninia swept past, her long silver train whispering across the floor behind her.
Upon the dais, Mysandra and Nathan of Rithmar awaited her. The High Enchanter held a plush purple cushion, upon which sat a delicate silver crown with an intricately wrought swallow’s tail in its center.
Ninia reached the dais and stopped in front of the throne, before turning to the audience. She then gracefully sank to her knees.
Nathan stepped up to her side. “People of the realm,” his powerful voice rang out through the now silent hall. “I present to you, Ninia of Thûn. Your undoubted queen.” Nathan paused, his gaze sweeping over the amassed crowd. “Are you willing to follow her?”
A roar went up, making the stone beneath Ryana’s feet tremble, as the people of Thûn responded.
Nathan turned to Ninia. “Do you take the oath, Ninia of Thûn … to govern the peoples of this realm and exercise justice, law, and mercy in all your judgements?”
“All of this I promise to do,” Ninia replied, her voice clear and firm.
