Lavender looks like she’d like to protest, but she doesn’t dare make a fuss in front of this esteemed crowd. She sits, pasting a smile on her face, and I take her place next to Calla.
After several seconds, I look back at Lawrence and find him smirking at me, perhaps glad for the small interruption.
And then, my father appears at the entrance of the throne room with King Algernon’s crown resting on a red, tasseled pillow.
A collective breath is taken as he walks up the aisle, his footsteps silent on the plush runner.
I glance at Lawrence and find the blood has drained from his handsome face, leaving him looking pale and terrified.
My heart goes out to my friend who doesn’t feel he’s ready for this cloak of responsibility.
The bishop moves into position next to Lawrence. When my father reaches him, he takes the crown.
“Prince Lawrence Telgin Gevaldry,” the man begins solemnly, “son of King Algernon Gevaldry, direct descendent of Telgin, the great Phoenix King, the day has come for you to claim your birthright.”
Lawrence swallows, looking straight ahead.
“By the power vested in me, I crown you the sovereign king of Caldenbauer.”
Lawrence sits straight and tall, flinching only slightly when the crown settles upon his head.
“May the kingdom prosper under your rule and your days be long.” The bishop bows his head to Lawrence and then steps to the side.
Father comes to the front to address the waiting audience. “Stand.”
The crowd does as they are directed, with their eyes on our new king.
“I present to you Lawrence Telgin Gevaldry, King of Caldenbauer. Swear your allegiance and bow before him now.”
And like a wave, the people fall. Women drop into deep curtseys and men lower on bended knees.
Lawrence stands, taking in the moment, looking overwhelmed as he surveys the nobility solemnly. After several seconds, he says, “You may rise.”
His voice rings throughout the throne room, strong and sure, and I nearly burst with pride.
He turns to me, extending his hand. I immediately join him, smiling to tell him how well he’s doing. His fingers squeeze mine as if grateful I’m by his side, and then we turn forward once more.
“Those who wish to be considered for my guard, come forward,” Lawrence says, continuing the ceremony.
We’re nearing the end now.
At least fifty men are here for this moment, including my brothers. They are a mix of noble-born sons sent from their houses and high-ranking soldiers eager to make their mark in history, each hoping to gain His Majesty’s favor and secure his spot as one of the elite. They come before the dais, the noblemen standing in the colors of their houses and the soldiers wearing their military best, all handsome and proud.
But my heart bleeds because Henrik is absent. He belongs here, fighting for his seal, and it absolutely destroys me. I lift my chin, refusing to show weakness in front of the court.
Looking even more nervous than Lawrence, Bartholomew steps forward to address the men who will be under his command one day. It was decided that he should oversee this part of the ceremony even though he’s too young to claim his position as royal duke marshal.
He glances at me nervously, looking for support. I give him a small smile, subtly nodding him along. After taking a deep breath, he turns to the men.
“You have all served King Algernon valiantly, and the royal family thanks you for your dedication and sacrifice. King Lawrence will now bestow seals upon his chosen elite. They will rise above their peers and stand as the king’s personal guard. It is not an honor to take lightly. If any of you believe you should not hold the position, please step down.”
No one so much as flinches.
Colter catches my eye, my ridiculous brother grinning at me. Denny elbows him in the side, reminding him this is a sober occasion. Immediately, Colter rips his eyes forward, but he doesn’t completely mask his mirth.
My eyes scan the rest of the gathering. The knights who served on Algernon’s personal guard have been retired with honors, though several requested to be considered for Lawrence’s guard as well.
I take a deep breath, wishing…