23. Jess

Chapter 23

Jess

I blinked a few times and peered at the end of the Temple as the assembled mass rose. The back wall now stood empty, though I was sure a man had been there only a moment earlier.

I allowed myself to breathe again.

It wasn’t him. You’re just overwhelmed. Relax.

An hour later, my gilded carriage pulled up to the front entrance of the Palace. Dozens of guards lined the circular drive. On either side of the grand entrance, rows of neatly dressed servants stood to greet their new sovereign. They all knew me. Many had helped raise me.

But today I emerged a new woman, the Queen.

They beamed with pride and dared to look me in the eye as I passed. Some wept openly. When I came to the first row, I stunned them all by greeting each person by name and thanking them for their service to the Crown. This act took another thirty minutes but endeared me to my staff in ways I didn’t immediately realize. I couldn’t explain why I had done it; it just felt right in the moment.

I made my way into the Throne Room.

Miraculously, the staff had moved my throne from the Temple to its usual resting place while I returned by carriage. Before I sat, I turned to a young page and asked for a cushion. When he gaped but didn’t move, I smirked and whispered conspiratorially, “If I have to sit here and listen to lords drone on for the next two hours on this hard chair, my bum will fall asleep. Your Queen needs your help. Get me that cushion.”

The page, now more shocked by my familiarity than my request, couldn’t contain his smile and bowed. “At once, Majesty.”

Once seated, I nodded to the Royal Master, who then nodded to the guards standing by each of the gilded doors. As the doors opened, my eyes widened at the endless queue of dukes and barons—and every other flavor of nobility lined up and waiting. Each came to offer the Oath of Fealty to their new Queen.

The Warden of the East, the portly Duke Kinsley Parna who’d become familiar with the sharp end of my shrimp fork in a previous encounter, waddled before me. “Majesty,” he said, then bowed as low as his stomach would allow. An awkward moment passed before he rose and whispered, as though we had some private, personal relationship I was unaware of, “This one is pleased to see you safe and enthroned.”

I lifted a brow but said nothing.

For once, Parna took the hint and lowered himself to one knee, removed his sword from its scabbard and raised it in both hands above his head. “I promise to be faithful to the Queen of the Spires, never to cause her harm, and will observe my homage to her completely, against all persons, in good faith and without deceit. Long live the Queen.”

I waited a bit longer than ceremony dictated, enjoying seeing my least favorite duke submit, then offered the ceremonial reply. “The Crown accepts, and pledges our justice and protection, now and for all time.”

The next few hours passed exactly as expected.

Lords, ladies, and visiting dignitaries flowed in to pledge, in many cases bearing gifts of gold, silver, perfumes, or silks. One of the islanders presented me with an odd bird with colorful feathers in a gilded cage. I nearly lost my stately composure when the creature looked me in the eye and said, “Hail, Queen Jessia!”

Nobles in line burst into delighted applause while the islander smiled and bowed.

By late afternoon, the Royal Presence was fading.

My neck and back were sore from sitting under the weight of the Imperial Crown, and the rush of being coronated had worn off, leaving me physically and mentally exhausted. When the end of the line appeared, I made another mental note to award my young page a kingdom of his own for bringing me a cushion, though my bum had still fallen asleep.

Keelan approached the throne, last of the dignitaries, the traditional position of highest honor afforded to Melucia, the Kingdom’s largest neighbor and trading partner. I hadn’t noticed him until he stood before me. I had to school myself to stop a broad smile.

Keelan wore the annoying smirk of a man who knew what I was thinking. Again, I schooled myself, this time to stop from throwing the royal cushion at my honored guest.

He bowed and offered his respects on behalf of the Melucian people, then gave the scripted speech Atikus had prepared, proclaiming the Melucian Empire’s deepest desire to again walk hand in hand with their Kingdom neighbors.

“Guardsman Rea,” I said once the formalities had been completed. “Please remain a moment while the Throne Room is cleared. There are matters of relations between our peoples I would like to discuss.”

Keelan nodded and stepped aside to wait for the guards to clear lingering nobles from the hall. When the doors slammed shut, I reached up, removed the crown, and placed it on the smaller throne beside me.

“That thing is so heavy.”

Keelan stepped forward and chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it, Majesty.”

“Oh, you had better not start bending and scraping, at least not while we are in private. I need someone other than my little brother I can talk to.”

“Whatever you command, Majesty. I am at your service.” He bowed dramatically. When he rose, the infuriating man’s mouth was all smirk.

This time I did throw the pillow and nailed him in the chest.

“Royal abuse! The Crown is assaulting its guests! Help!” he cried to one of the guards standing against the wall.

That moment reminded me how rare it would be to truly be alone again. I had to be more careful with guards and servants always about. Even innocent comments said without thought—overheard—could find their way out of the Palace.

I snorted and stepped down, yanked the pillow out of his hands, and tossed it back onto my throne. “Enough, Guardsman. Please escort me back to my chamber. I need to change and freshen up before the banquet.”

“It would be my pleasure, Majesty.” He smiled and offered his arm.

We had made it nearly to my chambers when a horrified maid scurried from somewhere down the hall and blocked our path.

“Majesty, this room is no longer appropriate for you. We moved you into the King’s . . . I mean, the Queen’s chamber.”

Keelan started to say something, some jibe or joke, but stilled his tongue when my brows knitted.

He leaned toward me and whispered. “What is it?”

“The royal chamber is . . . it’s my parents’ chamber,” was all I could say before my voice broke.

The maid stopped at the door and turned. Keelan caught the hint and stepped back, untangling himself from my grip.

“Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I’ll see you at tonight’s banquet,” he said with a deep bow before disappearing down the hallway.

I spared a glance over my shoulder before allowing the maid to shuffle me into the suite where an army of dressing ladies assaulted me the moment I entered. I never had a moment to catch my breath or take in the regal bedroom I now inhabited. Oddly, I was thankful for the distraction of my clucking hens.