“Dresden,” he bowed slightly, “Tatiana. What an unwanted surprise,” Ryder purred.
“You lied to us!” Dresden sputtered in outrage.
“I’d be very careful of your words, Light King, as we have a very precarious treaty right now. This event is under truce and has been declared as a Sanctuary. If you overstep your welcome, I will have you removed from this gathering. I’d also be very careful of how you treat Synthia.”
“I had a treaty with your father! He gave it to me when he killed Anise. It is still binding, and I hold you to it.”
“You are wrong. Most of the treaties my father made died with him. You’ve had peace, because I chose to use my time to gain allies, and secure other things needed before claiming my birthright. I suggest you start thinking of terms for a new treaty that we can both agree on, and remember, Dresden, I am not my father. I think he made a rash decision in killing Anise, which set your spoiled self-indulged ass on the throne. It can be easily rectified should you prove to be a thorn in my side.”
He dismissed Dresden and Tatiana, both of whom looked like they were about to be sick. They sifted out together, before I could manage an in-your-face to them both. The look on his face had been priceless when he’d seen Ryder.
“Synthia, go with Ristan; you do not need to be present or suffer through this. It will be a lot of posturing and other bullshit. You can visit with Adam and Adrian as well.” To Ristan he said, “Stay within my sight.”
“Can do,” Ristan said, slipping his arm through mine as Abiageal and her father trailed behind Ryder. I wasn’t privy to what Cornelius was telling the man to his left, but his eyes were on me as he did it.
We sat between the others with the Elite Guard as Ryder stood on the dais and listened to those who had grievances about the way Alazander had ruled. No one could actually challenge Ryder’s claim since he’d been chosen by Danu to be the Heir.
There were too many of them; all expressing their displeasure, although no one challenged him outright. But Ristan had been right; this would give Ryder a better idea of who opposed his rule. I watched as Liam glared at Ryder, and if looks could kill, Ryder would be dead. He looked as if he wanted to protest as well, but he kept whatever was on the tip of his tongue in its place.
Some opposed Ryder for what his father had done, and it made me proud with how he deflected them as to why he would be a better monarch than Alazander was. He wouldn’t follow in father’s footsteps; he’d make his own path. One that would benefit all of the Castes as he intended to repair what had been ruined and replace the bridges his father had burned.
I felt it in my bones that he was the right choice for this. He’d been born to rule this deceptively dangerous land, and it was why he was such a brute. He’d been raised here, and his father had been brutal, but he’d also seen what ruling as his father had, left behind.
He would be a better ruler than any before him had, because he cared for this world, and he would sacrifice to fix to it. He could make the hard choices that would need to be made. The mere fact that he was presiding over this assembly in his Fae form rather than the form of the Horde King spoke volumes as to the kind of monarch he wanted to be known as.
I watched as a Fae male with long black hair and wearing flowing robes that looked like the Milky Way got lost in them, approached Ryder at the dais. He was escorted by four Fae males, armed with ceremonial weaponry. As if a signal had been given, they knelt as one in front of Ryder.
Ryder placed his hand on the robed Fae’s shoulder and he stood proudly, as his voice rang out.
“Ryder, first born son of Alazander, do you accept the responsibility of ruling the Horde, as well as the smaller Castes who depend upon the Horde for protection?”
“I accept the responsibility of this, and more. I will protect the Horde from those who seek to harm my own. I will protect those of the weaker Castes, and those who depend on us for their livelihoods. I vow to repair what my father left behind in his wake, and the destruction he brought upon our kind with his greed and merciless pandemonium.”
Zahruk stepped up, his blue eyes smiling as he presented the gold crown to the mass of the crowd, and then turned to face his brother. “Kneel before your people, my brother, and be crowned as King of the Horde before all,” Z’s voice rose to be heard above the crowd as the High Priest stepped up and accepted the crown that Zahruk held in his hands.
“Who is your second in command?” The Priest asked, as his robes were held out of the way, by those who stood beside him.
“Zahruk, second son of Alazander, will serve as my second. He will walk beside me, but never behind me.”