With a shimmer of magic, Hadeon appeared at her side in full size, smoke rising off the blackened steel of his armor.
The lords faltered. Then slowly, bitterly lowered themselves to their knees.
Only Delphi remained standing. Her pale expression both defiant and fractured.
Then Alora commanded for the court to be dismissed, leaving only those in her party and the lords. When the doors closed behind her, she turned to Delphi.
“Queen Dowager,” Alora folded her hands. “You will return to your chambers under guard until I decide the punishment for your crimes. Any attempt to flee will be considered treason.”
The Royal Guard didn’t wait for protest.
They stepped forward at Caelum’s command and seized her arms.
Delphi turned to her frightened son. “Rihan, don’t allow this?—”
“You have said enough,” Alora said. Her magic took hold of Delphi’s will, silencing her.
Stepmother.
Godmother.
Aunt.
None of those familial ties held any meaning to Alora anymore.
Delphi stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. And for a moment, there was something in her eyes that almost looked like shame.
Then she marched away, escorted by the guards as murmurs rippled in her wake.
“Princess,” the Archbishop scowled. “This is highly irregular. You cannot simply?—”
The shadows instantly wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air.
“What is irregular, Archbishop,” Alora murmured idly. “Is your utter disregard for my standing. I am yourqueen.”
He stilled, his throat bobbing. “You endanger your soul, Your Majesty,” he wheezed. “This is not the will of the Seven.”
“No, it ismine.” Alora released him and he exhaled with relief, clutching his throat as he stumbled back. She turned to the others. “Make no mistake, my lords. Treason will be rewarded not only with loss of your titles and lands, but with the loss of your lives. Do not defy me again.”
The lords bowed deeper, then quickly got to their feet and left the throne room.
Once they were gone, she let herself exhale.
So did the boy on the throne.
Alora turned to her brother. Rihan’s chin trembled, hope and fear tangled like vines in his gaze.
She crouched down and smiled, her eyes softening. “It’s alright. I’m here now.”
Rihan scrambled from the throne and hugged her tightly, heavy cloak piling on the floor behind him. His eyes welled. “Please don’t Mother I asked Theia to send a letter. I didn’t want to be crowned.”
“I would never.” Alora sighed, brushing the hair from his eyes. “But they are right, Rihan. The throne is yours. I will hold it for your sake, until you are ready.”
He peeked at the imposing thing and looked no more inclined to sit in it.
“Why do they fight over a chair?” he whispered.
Alora stood and placed her hand on it, feeling the weight of its burden she would shoulder for a time. Until it was his to bear.
