Page 184 of Between Despair and Hope

As for my sister, her absence was noteworthy. Not once had I done anything like this without her. By my side for every event neither of us wanted to attend, and she missed this one. It was for a good cause, but still—I loathed it. I had heard nothing from her since she left for the Seaborn Queen’s territory, but I knew the waters were precarious this time of year in the gulf. I’d instructed her to stop in Olistos on her way back and send a message, but I still waited, nervous about how things were faring. I was so gods damn grateful for her willingness to step up as an emissary. I’d underestimated my sister, and I planned to make up for it as soon as she returned. We’d been experiencing tremendous storms on our western shore, and though I was grateful they stood as a barrier against Declan and Folterra, I worried for Ven. Seyma’s Gulf was bracketed on the north and south by land, and I hoped it would be enough to shield them from ill weather while theNetarinavigated treacherous waters.

Both my mother and my daughter joined the standing crowd on the steps, on even footing with me. Elora stood between Dewalt and my mother, appearing nervous once more. I couldn’t help my smile as my best friend elbowed her, and a grin spread over both their faces. When my daughter clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh as Dewalt whispered something, my mother shot him a glare over Elora’s head. He’d thrown himself into training my girl, preparing her for anything which might come her way. I’d worried at first it might be too hard for him, considering how much she looked like Lucia, but I soon understood their differences were enough; he didn’t seem to struggle. Lucia might have been opinionated, but she mostly obeyed. She had her limits, certainly, but Elora took after her mother quite a bit. And, perhaps foolishly, I hoped part of her rebelliousness came from me. Either way, Dewalt had been better than I’d ever seen him despite breaking the bond and his work with Elora.

The Supreme cleared his throat, and while everyone else’s gaze snapped to him, I watched Em. My wife. Hair swept up and back, fashioned into something regal, she held her head high, showing her tattoo with pride as she finished walking down the last few stairs, a few steps below me on the central platform. I suspected she’d pulled her robe farther off her neck to give me a better view. We’d only been back for a few days, but word had spread about the marking the new queen wore. Other than Dewalt, no one else knew the reason for it, even if they might have suspected. It was important to her that it was my secret to keep and reveal as I saw fit.

Perhaps one day I’d speak about it. But not now, not with a change of power, not when I’d been held captive for weeks. The sad fact was that my subjects would look to me for strength with the threat of war looming, and even the slightest question about my ability to lead could be detrimental. But something irked me about that. I didn’t care about looking weak for them—with Em as my strength, I could do anything. Maybe they needed to see that too.

Until then, the ink climbing up her neck was mine to look at, mine to know the reason for. A reminder of her love—just one of the many sacrifices she’d made for me. She caught my attention as she approached. With a slight tickle of nerves moving down the bond, her cheeks flushed, and she gave me a small smile before kneeling on the dais below me. I hated that this was part of the ceremony. Though she didn’t kneel for me, but the reverence of the Crown itself, it made me uncomfortable. Clearly sensing my annoyance for the custom, she raised a brow before lazily tracking her gaze over my body.

Mischievous, my queen.

I returned the favor. While I was dressed in the same black attire from our wedding beneath the matching robes we wore, Em had on a simple white gown I’d never seen before. I didn’t know how she convinced my mother to allow her to forgo the ermine cape atop the long, sapphire velvet train of the robe, but she looked no less royal. The dress itself was simple—straight and modest across the top, with delicate gold lace adorning the bottom. Beautiful, strong, and capable, she situated her gown around her before lifting her head to the Supreme.

He repeated the ceremony with her as he had done with me. Two novices strode forward, fully covered, and handed her both a set of scales and a sword to represent Rhia and Hanwen’s blessing.

“With wisdom from Rhia, swear to go forward with intent in your mind and heart to bring Vesta’s people peace, but with Hanwen’s wrath, do not forget to execute justice to the wicked.”

Emmeline bowed her head as I had done before passing the items back to the novices. Two more took their place, one holding the same candlestick as they’d held for me, while the other held a small bowl full of water from the font.

“As Aonara brings light to Ciarden’s dark, so shall you swear to bring balance to this blessed kingdom.”

Taking the vessel in one hand, Em used the candlestick to light the votive floating within. Using both hands to cradle the bowl, candle discarded, she waited for the Supreme’s nod.

Em declared, voice loud and resolute, “I do so swear.”

I used my divinity to shake the earth, amplifying the stomping of feet surrounding us as she rose, gracefully making her way to the throne beside me. Only a quick display of nerves struck her after she sat, her hand making its way up to smooth the line between her brows. The volume in the room grew to deafening even after I’d stopped my divinity. I’d grown distracted, watching my mother wrap an arm around Elora, when I felt Em’s touch, reaching between us to take my hand in hers.

“My queen,” I murmured, letting the rest of the din fall away. If I had to choose only one color to see the rest of my life, the specific blue of those love-filled eyes which looked back at me would be it.

“Unreal,” she whispered. “All of this. It’s unreal.”

“It is. Unreal, but it’s ours.”

Em made a face when she reached up, fork still hovering in front of her mouth, as she adjusted my crown. We’d been permitted to take the velvet capes off, leaving the coronation regalia with the servants in the throne room. Neither of us wanted to wear the heavy ornamental crowns either and instead opted for lighter counterparts. My own circlet I preferred had been confiscated, and my mother had given me something she insisted was more ‘king-like’, though I couldn’t understand why. It was nearly the same as my old one, but with a sprinkling of black sapphires inlaid. Em wore the same diadem from our wedding ceremony, and she looked even more beautiful now than she did the first time I saw her wear it. She dropped her hand when Warric strode across the room, clothes barely pulled on.

“Your Majesties, I am sorry to interrupt your meal, but I come to you in haste. Some sort of explosion occurred in Evenmoor—the ground shook all the way in Mindengar. It seems most of his soldiers are marching north past Darkhold. Perhaps because of the storms in the south? We’ve received no word from the rebels yet.”

“Thank you, Warric,” I said as I pushed my chair back, using a napkin to wipe my mouth.

“Do you think it was a rebel attack? Or do you think—”

“They’d have told us if they planned to make moves on Declan.” I cut her off as I stood, offering Em my hand.

Swiftly making our way across the hall, I spotted Raj seated between his two children, in the capital for the coronation. Both more well-behaved than I’d ever seen them, I wondered if their elven-tutor might have used her magick on them to get them to behave as such.

“Raj, a word?” I hated to interrupt, but I didn’t want to deliver such news to him in front of his children. Though I didn’t ask her to, wanting her to be as involved in this as she wanted to be, Em took Raj’s seat and engaged with the children, distracting them while I spoke to their father. I could tell she was listening though, her head cocked at a perfect angle which elongated the elegant curve of her neck, while she asked Raj’s son about his favorite part of the ceremony.

“When?” Raj asked, clearly expecting some type of order.

“Tomorrow. I want you in Lamera. I’m going to send Ashmont to Nara’s Cove just in case. They’re not leaving from the Cascade, but from the north instead.”

“The storms,” Raj murmured.

“I don’t anticipate them getting very far from the north either, at least not quickly, but I want to be ready. I suspect he’ll try to take Lamera with little bloodshed.”

“They’ll find it a difficult task,” a low, seductive voice piped up from behind me, and I cursed myself for not checking my surroundings. The Scythe barely came up to my chest, but I didn’t like her sneaking up on me like that.

“And why is that?” Raj snapped, and the woman’s face turned to stone, not a single muscle out of place.

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