As instructed, she stopped at the end and High Lord Zeiger stepped forward, offering her his arm. She gave him a polite smile as she slid her hand onto his forearm, and with her chin up, she walked with him toward the dais. Surren and her guards remained at attention, each with weapons in hand, their magic and eyes scanning the room for anything unexpected.
My gaze landed on my mother again. Her stiff, impassive mask didn't hide her emotions. They seethed beneath the surface, waiting for the chance to strike. I’d laughed when Lore told me about the dinner last night. Reyla was amazing.
But in seeking revenge, she’d found a true enemy. Mother would find a way to make my wife pay for the slight.
High Lord Zeiger guided her up the stairs and onto the dais.
Every eye in the room remained on us, but when our gazes met, it felt as if we were the only two people in existence. She walked over and turned, standing in front of her throne while her ladies made sure her gown lay smoothly, before they stepped back, leaving us alone.
“Are you ready?” I asked softly, rising.
Her eyes met mine, fierce and determined. “You know I am.”
There was my wildfire bride.
I faced the court. “High lords and ladies.” My voice rang out clear and strong, projecting the pride I felt as all eyes turned toward her. “Today, we gather to witness a momentous occasion, the crowning of your new queen, Reyla Jarrn Weldsbane.”
The oldest elder, Justifar, stepped forward, the red box clasped tightly in her weathered hands. She carefully climbed the stairs to the top of the dais and approached us both, her unseeing gaze landing on me before focusing on Reyla. She didn't see like others but with the eyes within. What did she note about me, and just as important, what did she see in my bride?
She stopped in front of Reyla and with a flourish, she opened the lid, revealing the crown nestled inside. Crafted of the finest silver, its delicate design had been woven through with strands of vibrant gold and red. The companion to my own, it sparkled like captured starlight, radiant against the dark fabric lining the interior of the box.
As Reyla stepped forward, I could almost see the weight of expectation settle on her shoulders, a burden she'd carry until her dying day. This was no ordinary crowning; it was the moment she would claim her true power and rise above all the doubts swirling through the room.
“Reyla Jarrn Weldsbane, do you accept the responsibilities of Queen of Evergorne Court?” Justifar asked, her creaking voice booming through the room.
“I do.” Reyla’s voice came out steady, unwavering. Each word resonated through me, filling me with pride.
The two other elders stepped up onto the dais and stopped on either side of Justifar, linking their hands beneath the box to support it. With both hands, Justifar lifted the crown from its resting place. Every person in the room watched as she approached Reyla, the crown held aloft. The air crackled, magic swirling silently, as if the very world and the fates were holding their breath.
“By the will of the fates and the loyalty of our kind, I crown you queen.”
Reyla dipped her head forward, and Justifar placed the crown on Reyla's head, the weight of it resting gently, perfectly, on her fiery hair.
A hush blanketed the room as the crowd absorbed the moment, their expressions a mix of awe, astonishment, and only a touch of disdain. I met the gazes of the latter until theirs fell, before turning back to my bride, my queen. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth.
Our eyes locked, a shared spark lighting up the spacebetween us. The crown glimmered above her, a tangible symbol of her strength.
Sparkles erupted from overhead, fairy lights dancing through the air to land on Reyla’s hair, her gown, and the floor around her.
The air buzzed with more hope than I could find within myself.
53
REYLA
As the echo of the final gong faded, the throne room rippled with excitement. The sea of my people erupted into cheers and applause. I scanned the room, noting a few sullen looks among the smiles and enthusiasm. The challenge to win over these skeptics was a daunting one, but I held onto the hope that they would one day come to accept me as their queen.
One person's animosity was palpable and impossible to ignore. Erisandra stood with her ladies, her eyes blazing with rage. The waves of negativity emanating from her were almost suffocating. How had I gone from a stranger to an enemy in her eyes so quickly? The silly episode last night could not have been enough to solidify the hatred in her heart.
I promised myself I’d try to bridge the gap between us. I yearned for peace, not a relentless battle of wills.
The cold glares of Erisandra's ladies-in-waiting showed metheir allegiance. No surprise there. They were pawns on a Wraithwaite board, moved by the hand of the woman they still saw as their true queen. The game required considerable strategy and conniving.
I’d won when I played before. I’d win this time as well.
Merrick stood by my side, his hand clasping mine in support that was both comforting and empowering. His eyes held steely determination as he gazed at his mother. In this struggle, he was my ally, not hers, and she knew it.
The emotions swirling inside me were overwhelming, yet I would not let them consume me. I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my racing heart. The crown I wore, heavy with silver, gold, and red gems, was a physical manifestation of the weight now settling on my shoulders.
