Relam nodded and slowly got to his feet. “It’s time, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, your highness,” Galen said, bowing. “It is nearly time. Today you become a king.”
The young prince smiled slightly and shook his head. “No,” he replied, glancing back at the silver doors of the royal crypt. “The ceremony today is what it is, a ceremony. Last night is when I became a king.”
He ignored Galen’s perplexed look and strode through his guards, headed back to the Citadel. Wil flashed him a grin and a thumbs up, which Relam acknowledged with a wink. From the Citadel, Relam would travel to Assembly Hall, where the coronation would take place. The short journey along the River Road would be the final leg in the long and painful race for the throne.
Chapter 48
Four hours later, Relam stood in the front foyer of Assembly Hall. The massive, gilded doors that led to the main hall were sealed at the moment, a trickle of conversation filtering through. Relam took a deep breath, released it, then rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension of the moment.
“Relax, you Highness,” Galen advised. “Try and enjoy it. This only happens once you know.”
“Relax?” Relam growled. “It’s taking all of my strength just to stand up. Is all of this really necessary?” He swatted at the folds of the heavy cloth of gold cloak that hung from his shoulders and reached nearly to the floor. In addition to this extravagant accoutrement, Relam also wore ceremonial armor made of gold, silver, and white gold. His normal sword hung at his side, opposite a heavy jeweled dagger. The sheaths of both were liberally adorned with garnets and other precious stones.
“You have to make an impression,” Eric said stubbornly, standing straight and tall.
“Probably by tripping and falling over,” Relam muttered.
“Better not do that,” Wil advised. “You might never get back up with all that.”
“Thank you so much for pointing that out,” Relam muttered.
“I live to serve,” the grinning guardsman replied.
Relam shook his head in disgust and turned back to face the doors as a slim figure slipped through the portal.
“It’s time,” Cevet said, closing the doors gently behind him. “One minute to go. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Relam replied.
“Good,” Cevet murmured. “I’ll slip in after you so I can watch. The others are already assembled.”
Relam nodded, picturing the scene that awaited him in the Assembly Hall as Cevet stepped to the side, counting under his breath. When he reached the count of sixty, he nodded to Galen and Eric.
The two guards stepped forward and threw the doors back on their hinges so that they slammed against the wall to either side with a rolling BOOM!
“His Highness, the Crown Prince Relam!” Galen called as heads turned and the Assembly rose to its feet in a sea of glittering court garb.
Relam strode slowly and impressively into the hall, advancing towards the front of the room, where the Council waited. As he passed each row, the nobles that occupied it knelt, bowing their heads respectfully. Behind Relam, his guards paced slowly, careful not to step on his cloak. Relam himself was too preoccupied with walking smoothly and in a straight line to pay them much attention though.
The short walk to the front of the room seemed to last for years. By the time Relam reached the High Council, his hands were sweating badly and his breath was coming short and fast from nerves.
The Council members rose as one and bowed from the waist. Relam inclined his head gravely and moved past them to the dais, upon which stood a pedestal with the royal crown perched on top of it. Behind the pedestal stood Lord Garenes, the hastily appointed Head of the Assembly. Behind him, the sons of the great lords were arrayed in a semicircle, turned out in their best. As Relam mounted the stage, he noticed Cevet slip up the stairs on the other side to join the other four lordlings. There was some murmuring at this, but Relam wanted his friend there, no matter what his father had done.
Relam joined Lord Garenes at the pedestal. Garenes bowed low, then stood erect quickly as though even this brief display of fealty was too much. But he really did not have a choice. The Assembly had decided.
As Garenes straightened, the rest of the Assembly resumed their seats, watching the stage expectantly, waiting with baited breath. Lord Garenes held his hands up, spread wide, the sleeves of his robes hanging like wings.
“The reign of another Sthan King has come to an end,” he intoned. “And so, a new one must begin. King Orram was called to the land of the dead before his time, but he has left an heir to the throne, his son, Prince Relam. What does this Assembly say in response?”
Lord Laurencian stood at the Council table, shaking his shoulder length hair back. “The High Council has decided. Relam is worthy to follow his father. This Council pledges its loyalty to the new king!”
“The house of Farad pledges its loyalty!” Knet’s father shouted.
“The house of Reshi pledges its loyalty!” Jatt’s father added.
“The house of Laurencian pledges its loyalty!” Delan’s father broke in.
The other great lords added their names, until only Garenes had not spoken from the Council.
“The house of Garenes, pledges its loyalty,” the great lord said in a firm, clear voice.
As soon as Garenes had spoken, other lords in the larger Assembly began standing and pledging their loyalty. They did not do so one at a time though, but in a confused mass, shouting over each other. Somehow, they spoke with enough force that Relam heard each and every man clearly.
When the last noble had resumed his seat, Garenes stepped forward again. “The Assembly
