It was a heavier atmosphere. More somber. After all, King Terrell hadn’t died quietly in his sleep from old age. He’d been murdered, and everything since then had been horrible event after horrible event. It didn’t seem as though the situation would improve. A new king might help, but real hope seemed impossible.
In spite of the Inundation and cathedral collapse, the throne room was resplendent. Silver dragons perched on chandeliers, and were etched into the glass shields of sconces. Cresting waves, unicorns, and suns with radiating lines peeked from ornaments and shimmered on banners above. Though they tried to hide it, the Ospreys gaped as we filed into the chamber and took our places. Conner and Carl nudged each other, sharing subtle glances toward crystals and other small pieces of finery.
I bumped Connor’s elbow and shook my head, just slightly. He offered a small, good-natured sigh, but nodded and kept his hands at his sides. The others noticed, and clasped their hands behind their backs one at a time, secret smiles pulling at the corners of their mouths.
On a balcony, a small orchestra was playing, and slowly the chamber began to fill with nobility from all across the Indigo Kingdom, a few from the surrounding kingdoms, and the wealthy merchant class from here in Skyvale. The throne room grew hot, even with the upper windows open to let in a near-winter breeze. Lady Meredith and her parents glowed where they stood in the front with their heads high. Next to them, Princes Colin and Herman wore blank expressions. Another woman stood with them: Kathleen Rayner, if I had to guess. James’s mother. She looked like her sister Francesca, tall and thin, with dark brown hair.
Prince Colin leaned toward her and whispered something, but I caught only the shape of Tobiah’s name.
Queen Regent Francesca sat on her throne, looking contemplative and regal. Her sharp features were knives in the slanted golden light that fell from the gas lamps. A priest and the majordomo of Skyvale Palace stood in close attendance. Sweat dripped from their hairlines and the priest kept stealing glances at me, possibly remembering last night at the cathedral.
There was barely standing room by the time the music shifted and began to play a piece at a faster tempo: the Indigo Kingdom Royal March.
Though I’d meant to watch Prince Colin to make sure he didn’t do anything untoward, when Tobiah stepped through the double doors at the far end of the throne room, flanked by his guards, I couldn’t make myself look anywhere else.
His jacket was the darkest hue of indigo wool, with gold embroidery at the hems and around his collar. An ankle-length cape flowed from his shoulders, trimmed with the sigils of all four Houses. His boots, gloves, and shirt were spotless. He strode forward, immaculate with those strong features and dark eyes.
Exhaustion left his skin pale and darkened the spaces below his eyes. Every step was steady, controlled, and though he held his head straight and high, I caught furtive glances until he found me.
Flutters rippled down my middle.
Whispers fell from the crowd: “The heir to four Houses,” and “The Mirror King has risen.” Prophecies. Predictions. Hope that Tobiah would save the Indigo Kingdom from the wraith.
The procession seemed to take forever, but his eyes remained locked on mine. These were the last moments of Tobiah as the Crown Prince of the Indigo Kingdom, the last moments of him as the boy I’d met ten years ago.
Within weeks, he’d be married and burdened by responsibilities.
He wasn’t for me.
As his mother stood, a slim figure in the corner of my vision, I dropped my eyes. An ache stirred inside me as Tobiah’s expression slipped and straightened. As though I’d hurt him.
He finished walking to the dais and empty throne next to his mother. The queen regent offered her hands to her son in greeting. Then, Tobiah knelt and the others began their parts.
I waited, watching Prince Colin for any sort of threat, but he just smiled and pretended to be happy, and somehow that made everything worse.
Within the hour, Tobiah was king.
A celebratory ball followed the coronation. The room was filled with glittering people dancing and laughing as though there were no problems outside this room. Gowns flared and ladies swirled. Men congratulated one another on their suits, or the women on their arms.
I spent the majority of it performing my duties of dancing with every high-ranking official who asked. Several tried to weasel into my good graces by offering support for my return to Aecor. A few were drunk already, and offered to be my king. Although I didn’t have a chance to dance with Tobiah or James, I kept them in the corner of my vision, along with Prince Colin. The longer he went without making a move, the more nervous I got.
Toward the middle of the evening, while I was talking with the Ospreys between dances, Lady Meredith approached, her chin lifted and her jaw tight.
“Princess Wilhelmina, may I speak with you a moment?” A thread of nervousness wove through her voice.