“Don’t do that again,” I say over the angry lump in my throat. “If she tries to hurt herself. She shouldn’t get the idea that your healing magic makes it okay.”
Meryn scoffs and finally pulls her arm out of my grip, a splotchy blush high on her cheekbones.
“I’m right here if there’s something you want to say to me,” she says, narrowing her hazel eyes. “You don’t need to give Anassa instructions like I’m some toddler who needs looking after.”
“Then don’t act like one. Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?” I growl, and her glower deepens. Good. She’s doing exactly what she needs to do—she’s getting mad again. Her fire is back. “You have a country to lead.”
“I’m done,” she says, wiping her bloody hand on her dress.
I watch her carefully for a moment, making sure she means it.
Then Meryn straightens her posture and presses her lips together in a way that looks slightly self-conscious.
“What do we do now?” She’s softened a bit. The fight is still in her, but she knows she doesn’t need to direct it at me.
I loosen a breath and scrub a hand through my hair. What a loaded question. Where do we even start? “We’ll need to figure out your coronation.”
She blinks, confused.
“You can’t just claim you’re queen,” I tell her, slightly exasperated. “You need to be crowned.”
A borderline bitter laugh rips out of Meryn. “And who will coronate me? I tore that crown out of a bloody gutter.” She points to where it rests on the stone, upside down. “The king I wrenched power from is no longer alive.”
I bend to pick up the crown, then set it carefully on the table beside us, atop a stack of books.
This, at least, I have an answer to. Siegrid reached out to me last night when she sensed tumult in the bonds.
“The Mother Priestess of the Faceless Goddess’s order will preside over the ceremony.”
Meryn huffs. “I thought you considered the Faceless Goddess to be ‘commoner nonsense,’” she says, reminding me of my words in Linsfall when we visited the famous statue of the goddess.
She’s right, I do. If there was truly some beneficent goddess, why would our world be so shit? No, the only gods up there are the kind that take joy from watching their human playthings kill one another.
Can’t fault anyone for hoping for something better, though.
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter what I think. It’s about making your coronation legitimate for the common people, and the head of the order has overseen every ceremony for every new royal throughout history. The Sovereign Alpha is traveling up from the front for the coronation, and she’ll escort the Mother Priestess here.”
Meryn’s brow furrows. “Sorry, the Sovereign Alpha? You mean, your mother?”
A tiny muscle twitches in my jaw. “Sure.”
Cratos snickers in my mind, but I ignore him.
“We’ll need to get nobles in attendance to make the coronation legitimate,” I continue. “It will be difficult to persuade them to come. We may not get all the fiefdoms on board, and you will need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”
Thankfully, Siegrid is bringing Noemi with her from the war front, who should be helpful. My chest warms at the thought. It’s been months since I’ve seen Noemi, held her in my arms.
Meryn nods stiffly. “And should I be worried about the other Bonded after what happened in the arena? With… Jonah?”
That festering piece of shit.
I should have culled him during the Trials when I had the chance. It’s frowned upon, instructors killing the Rawbonds, but if a rider isn’t suited to be in a pack, then someone needs to act. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
When I finally end him, I’ll take my time. Cratos can eat his entrails while graydoves peck out his eyes. We’ll leave his dick for the rats.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “What happened in the arena…”
“The Dire Blade.” Meryn sits back down on the ground and cradles her head in her hands. “I had that in my possession for all of a day before breaking it. No one is going to believe I’m legitimate now.”
