Page 143 of The King is Dead
I sat down as, one by one, every man openly acknowledged his commitment. Yilan grasped my hand under the table, sliding her fingers between mine. I squeezed her little fingers tightly, but neither of us gave away the contact as the first step was finally taken in that cold, drafty room.
It was a victory at last. A small victory, and an uneasy one. But victory, nonetheless.
Thank you, God.
53. Crowned
~ YILAN ~
It was a surreal day. I swung wildly between thrilled triumph, and near-despair.
After Melek’s speech, the men in the room did settle down and focus. And even though there was a great deal of argument—particularly about the manner in which I’d enter the Nephilim camp—the petty shots and growled threats stopped.
The day progressed and conversation turned to logistics. Slowly attitudes eased as they each recognized the intelligence and strength in each other.
In fact, by late afternoon, the only overt hostility at the table remained between Diadre and Jann. Jhonas, Diadre’s brother, was unimpressed with both of them. I caught him pulling her aside when we broke for a meal, and I knew he’d be cautioning her about taunting or challenging the male.
I also knew she wouldn’t stop.
Diadre hated nothing more than a man who couldn’t see past herfemalenessto her achievements. I knew Jann had just been flirting because that’s what he did. I also knew Diadre wouldn’t care.
I made a mental note to speak with her about it later, in private. I needed those two to get along. Diadre was my dearest companion, and her insight into battle and strategy were unique—because she looked at the problems with a feminine mind. I planned to bring her with us into the Nephilim since, conveniently, she could also bepresented as a prize and play a similar role. But Melek was just as close to Jann as I was to Diadre. We couldn’t have them causing issues when all of us were surrounded by those who’d take advantage of any weakness.
We remained at the lodge and in that room negotiating, planning, identifying risks and creating strategies to meet them until the dinner hour.
The later the day grew, the more my nerves increased, because while Melek had gone to get the Neph and bring them here this morning, I’d made important arrangements without his knowledge.
I knew he was hoping we’d all forgotten about his coronation, but we hadn’t.Ihadn’t.
It had occurred to me that morning that if we were crowning him in a quiet ceremony with only the Council present, it would be a moving and unifying moment for the Neph, as well. Let them see that we claimed Melek as ours, too. That we saw his strength and knew he’d been appointed by God.
I just prayed he wouldn’t be irate with me for springing it on him unawares.
When we had finished the evening meal and the servants left, we reviewed the plans and decisions we’d made, and agreed on who would be responsible for each preparation task.
Then the room went quiet as the Nephilim assumed we were done.
I took a deep breath. “Melek,” I said quietly, putting my hand on his arm. “There is one more thing we have to do today—and it’s important that your kin are here to witness it,” I said breathlessly.
I was surprised by how nervous I felt.
Once Melek was crowned, I was no longer the primary ruler of the Shadekin.
Despite knowing my entire life that this day would come—and beingcertainMelek was the man for the job—my chest constricted.
Melek frowned as Turo and Hughes both rose from their seats and marched to a trunk in the corner that was draped in a royal crest.
His eyes followed them, but I squeezed his arm and brought his attention back to me.
“There’s no time to plan an event with the people—not before we have to leave. But under these circumstances, the Council can Coronate you, and inform the people. And when we return victorious, there will be a great celebration. Are you… are you willing to take the vows now?” I breathed, staring into his shocked eyes. “I thought it would be the first step in unifying our people for your brothers to see us acknowledge you as King.”
Melek’s eyes went wide. He looked back over to where Turo and Hughes were lifting the crown from its nest in the trunk. Turo draped the sash over his free arm while Hughes held a horn in his free hand. Then both men turned solemnly to look at Melek.
“I am… yes,” he said quietly, licking his lips. “Yes,” he repeated with an edge of determination in his tone.
I squeezed his arm and rose to my feet, urging him to stand and push his chair back, my heart both dancing and dropping as the room went silent, then Turo tipped his head back and called our people to acknowledge their King.
~ MELEK ~
