“Alioth smile on us,” he murmurs in greeting, bowing low to Rose and pressing palms with me. “I came as soon as I heard you’d returned.”
“Her teeth are sharp,” I reply, nodding to the gleaming blades that have bloomed around us.
He counts them under his breath. “...Nineteen, twenty. How badly do you want to be king, my friend?”
“It has nothing to do with what I want. This is Alioth’s will.” I hope the priests are listening, since they claim to be her servants. None of this was a choice. If I had a choice, Rose would have a slower introduction to royal life, one with far fewer threats to her life. If I had a choice, we’d still be making lovein the grass. If I had a choice, we’d visit a city that met us with celebration instead of suspicion.
“You should turn around, Oljin. Walk away if you can. The things I’ve heard in the pits...” He glances at the priests, who are definitely listening. “Renounce the crown if you have any doubts.”
“I have none. She is my true Alara.” I take Rose’s hand and squeeze it. It will soon be clear to all of them that she is as Irran as anyone in the room.
“Then I’ll stand at your back until to the end,” he swears. Together, we three move as the priests direct, entering the dim of the palace’s passageways. The march is silent, grim. This is not a coronation. It feels more like a trial.
“She’s not a spy,” I tell Pravil tersely, desperate to defend her. “You saw her the day I found her. She was nearly dead.”
“Her recovery was swift,” he murmurs, using the scuff of feet on the stones to cover his whispered skepticism.
My stomach turns to stone. Maybe I should have carried Rose here. Let them see her broken and bruised. Let them see how she suffered to become their queen. But then, they would have said she was too weak. Shewastoo weak. They would have cast her out, and she could not even walk away.
“Blame your mother and her brews,” I growl at him. “Blame the goddess herself. I’m not sorry she is well again.”
Pravil holds up his hands. “I’m not, either. I believe she’s genuine. I swear to you on my mother who gave me life, I would soar from the cliffs before I’d lie to you.”
“I know.” He did not have to accompany us, matched one blade to twenty. He could have stayed in the pits where he only had to face a single opponent.
Rose drops my hand, instead banding an arm around my waist, so we enter the throne room as one. Honhura waits on the blackrock seat for us to approach. Chanísh and the High Priest stand at her right hand, the Frathik delegation in a place of honor at her left.
The rest of the room is ringed with armed priests. I did not know there were so many priests in all of Irra. It isn’t all enemies, though. A few scholars are among them, too, who eye the basket of scrolls Rose carries.
Surprise bursts over many skins when they realize she’s not Irran, though my family’s pigment doesn’t show, and the gray hides of the Frathik delegation are stoic as always.
“Jara and Alara.” The Frathik leader drops to his knee, touching his forehead in their gesture of respect, and the rest of the Frathiks follow suit. I pause in front of him, urging him to rise and press palms instead.
“We are both peoples of Alioth,” I remind him. “Born of the same star mother. Neither one of us need kneel to the other. I’m honored to have you witness our joining.”
“Thank you, Jara. I am honored to be yourraskoth, your brother,” he rumbles, pressing his huge, leathery palms with both of us. “Frath congratulates Irra’s new king and queen. May our planets share in the bounty of our star system.”
“Thank you, brother,” Rose repeats, using the Frathik word and earning his instant respect.
When we reach the throne, my mother rises to embrace me. The intake of breath is audible when she does the same to Rose. But when Rose, radiant and smiling, moves to greet Chanísh, heturns his back on her.
Despite days of practice keeping her colors in check, my Alara blooms with anger and shame. The stark, black-and-white display causes as many gasps as her species did.
How dare they judge her for showing her pigment when they could not keep theirs in check? I wrap my arm around her shoulders, claiming and comforting in one gesture. Chanísh’s lips peel back from his teeth, and his hands slip to the hilts of his daggers.
“Brother,” I growl, as ready to kill him as he seems ready to kill me.
“Am I? You callthembrother, too,” he hisses, jerking his head at the Frathiks. “And you want to me to call thiscreatureAlara? You have gone mad.”
My mother makes an unhappy sound, and Rose’s arm around my waist tightens. Though she’s aware this is a tense exchange, I’m grateful she cannot fully understand the insult my brother has just given her. Her touch, the touch of my fated queen, reminds me to act like the king I am.
“The goddess brought us together. You and your priests can visit the temple of the Eye and pray if you have argument with her wisdom.”
“Lies,” the High Priest spits from the depths of his hood. “She is an imposter. The goddess would never choose an alien female to rule the grasslands of Irra.”
“Perhaps you do not know Alioth as well as you think.” The jab earns me snarls from the whole line of priests.
Pravil steps between us, one blade against all of them. My friend, my shield, Alioth save him. “Bend your neck to the Jara and Alara on the happy day of their joining.” His low, threatening tone makes the whole room quieten.
