I turn and grab my water goblet, taking a few quick gulps.
The Councilor of Sturmfrost, Gerhold Herzog, approaches next. The oily man is a necessary but unwelcome part of my Council Palast, and I spend our weekly meetings trying desperately not to engage in conversation with him.
Neighbors in the Eastern Quarter used to crack jokes about how he’d bestow royal contracts on folks who did him favors… especially beautiful young women. I believe the rumors even more now that I’ve had the unfortunate luck of getting to know him.
“You changed the coronation ceremony,” he says bluntly by way of greeting.
“I did,” I say, trying not to scowl. “Elements of it did not suit me.”
He sneers. “I beg to differ, Meryn.” I bristle at the casual use of my first name—from him, it’s an intended slight. “Those elements would have suited you quite well.”
My face burns. This fuckingpig.
My first order of business now that I’m officially crowned will be finding asuitable replacement for him, an appropriate steward of Sturmfrost who can be trusted to run our city well.
He must see the barely controlled rage behind my civil veneer, because he smirks and bows his head, taking his leave.
Noemi and her father, Lord Eisenfall, are next. Noemi’s gown is a showy, sleek, fiery red, almost matching the color of her hair. To call it a gown might be an exaggeration. It’s a garment made of crisscrossing straps that cover up just bits of her body, with very little left to the imagination.
It reminds me uncomfortably of the balls held during the Bonding Trials. I blink in surprise at it; she struck me as demure when we first met.
Her attire looks drab in comparison to the wealth draped across Lord Eisenfall. His suit is a gaudy velvet, his sword hilt is studded in rubies, and precious stones glint from rings on every finger. Noemi stands slightly behind him, her head bent.
“Lord Eisenfall—you’re Noemi’s father?”
The lord scoffs. “I sired Noemi, to be sure, but we don’t claim bastards as our children or heirs, not in Eisenfall at least.” His gaze skims over me and my sister disapprovingly. “But yes, Noemi belongs to Eisenfall.”
My already pounding head grows hot at his words, and I look between Noemi and this man. A father who makes it sound like she’s a thing heownsrather than a daughter.
Lord Eisenfall plays with the jeweled hilt of his sword as he speaks, his tone lazy. “We do consider it a point of pride, of course, having a Bonded to display as one of our own.”
What the fuck?
I glance back at Noemi, who looks away as if she’s embarrassed.
I need to make a good impression on this asshole along with all the other disgusting leeches in this room. But my mouth doesn’t listen to my brain.
“As your new queen, I find it’s a point of pride to have so many dithering nobles to display asmyown.”
I extend my hand in what I hope is a queenly way, keeping my face as blank as possible as Lord Eisenfall studies me, clearly unsure how to take my words.
He leans in and kisses it, and I immediately want to go wash.
After they finally go, the Mother Priestess steps up. I didn’t see her shrunken form behind Lord Eisenfall’s towering one, and she takes me by surprise. I assumed she might have left after the ceremonial portions of the coronation were complete.
That zealous intensity has returned to her eyes as she glides up the stairs to the dais, moving toward me until she’s uncomfortably close.
“Mother Priestess,” I say uneasily. “Thank you for presiding over the ceremony.”
Instead of responding to me, she turns toward Saela and reaches out a hand. My sister takes a frightened step backward. It immediately sets alarm bells off in my head.
“You havetwo?” the Mother Priestess hisses, moving closer.
She’s focused on the opal necklace Saela wears around her neck. The other Goddess Tear. She lunges forward as if to yank it off my sister’s neck.
“Mother Priestess,” I snap, and the woman straightens, a peevish look on her face. “You forget yourself.”
“No,youforget yourself, Your Highness.” She holds up her hand, displaying the opal ring. “You have said it yourself—you are not a true believer. You are not worthy of carrying one Tear in your family, let alone two. They are sacred symbols of the goddess. They belong withme.”
