Every member of the audience climbs to their feet to greet him, a sign of respect reserved only for the highest echelon of the monarchy. Linus looks every bit a king as he makes his dignified procession down the aisle toward us. His eyes meet mine for the briefest of moments as he steps up onto the throne pavilion. I see a flash of warmth and pride before he looks away to greet the archbishop. Bowing his head, he takes a shuddering breath as he kneels upon the plush cushion at the center of the stage.
And so it begins.
* * *
The essential elementsof a Germanian coronation have remained largely unchanged for the past thousand years: an hour-long ceremony of acclaim, anointment, and sworn oaths to uphold the law, the church, and above all, the loyal subjects of the land.
Linus’ voice is strong and clear as he accepts his responsibility. When he rises, an elaborate crown sitting upon his head, the applause is so loud, I hear the crystal chandeliers rattling perilously overhead. Lady Morrell instructed me most firmly that I was not to clap —a princess does not cheer with the masses; do endeavor to maintain a somber countenance— but I can’t help myself from smiling.
In a sort of daze, I watch as the archbishop moves on to inaugurate Octavia as Queen Consort — a simpler, shorter version of the same process. (I assure you, my somber countenance isfirmlyin place when the room applauds for her.)
Then, terrifyingly… it’s my turn.
Kneeling with my hands clasped tightly, I stare into the dull brown eyes of the bishop as I repeat back the words of fealty I’ve spent the past few days practicing in my bathroom mirror.
To my great surprise, as I speak my oath, the blind sense of panic fades. My pulse slows to a steady tempo. My voice doesn’t shake, the words crystal clear as they ring out in the silent room.
“I, Emilia Victoria Lancaster, do pledge my sovereign allegiance to the people of Germania as heir apparent to the throne. In this role, I vow to uphold law and justice with mercy, to maintain the doctrine, worship, and discipline of both church and state, and to preserve all such rights and privileges of each man, woman, and child under my dominion.” I take a deep breath and bow my head. “All that which I have promised, I will perform and keep to the fullest extent of my power. So help me God.”
The room is so silent, you could hear a button drop.
The archbishop anoints my forehead with holy oil, his thumb slippery against my skin. I inhale involuntarily when he lifts the sparkling tiara from an ornate box to his left. It’s heavy with gold and diamonds; heavier still with importance as he sets it down upon my head. It settles against my hair, glittering in the light, a perfect complement to my gown.
As I rise and turn to greet my countrymen, I’m met with a forceful wave of applause. They cheer and clap, eyes feverish with unconditional excitement as they behold me.
Their heir apparent.
Their future queen.
I have done nothing to earn their love. Yet here I stand, a product of divine right, acclaimed and adored for no reason at all. A fraud, collecting credit for absolutely nothing except the surname on my birth certificate.
The smile wavers on my lips. The pulse jumps in my veins. And the beautiful crown upon my head begins to feel like something else entirely.
A golden lie.
A dirty halo.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hot damn,E! You look fucking incredible! That dress is a wet dream.”
“Um.” I blink at Chloe. “Thank you… I think?”
“Trust me, it’s a compliment.”
“She’s right,” Alden cuts in smoothly, stepping up to me with a smile. His eyes are shining. “You look absolutely perfect, Princess.”
My smile wavers. “Please, don’t call me that.”
His brows lift in confusion.
I glance away, back to Chloe, and find her squinting at the diamonds on my tiara. Her cherry red lips — the same shade as the mermaid-style dress she’s wearing — are parted in pure lust.
“You’re going to let me try it on later, right?”
I snort. “I don’t think I’m allowed to, actually. Pretty sure it goes back into the royal vault as soon as the party ends.”
“Then I suppose we’d better make the most of the moment.” Alden’s hand extends. “If it’s not too forward of me… may I have the first dance?”