Arla Dane stood at Arysa's elbow.
The princess's hands shook.
"I'm not ready." She breathed.
But the little girl only smiled. "No one ever is."
And Arysa stepped forward, her gowns trailing behind her on the pristine, polished floor. The guards swung open the throne room doors and as she walked, she could feel the eyes following her.
Her gaze flit across the room to Lara, now the official court physician, standing beside Velicity sitting in a wheelchair with her sword resting on her knees, to Kryssa, parallel to them with Jaclyn just ahead of her.
She stepped up to the throne with the Rahaidan crown rested upon its seat and she lifted it with gentle hands. She turned, with all of her people spread out before her, spilling out of the throne room, down the halls, across the castle steps, and into the city streets, and she knelt before them, bowing her head with her eyes quietly closed.
Arysa raised her arms and settled the crown atop her head, and when she raised her eyes, the sun had just barely risen and light flickered over the city's rooftops, the sky a wash of orange and pink, and she could not look away even as her people began to shout, began to clap, began to cheer.
She met the golden eyes of the boy standing in the back beside the open throne room doors, a hint of pink in his cheeks and his dark hair soft, trimmed back from his face and curling at the ends. He nodded, gentle but steady, and Arysa inhale a deep breath before she rose to her feet and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the sword laid across the arms of the throne. She lifted it into the air, sunlight glinting off sapphire gemstones.
Then the last Queen of Rahaida sheathed the blade with a snap.
YOU ARE READING
Never Yours ✔️
FantasyHe's always lurking in the shadows, always watching. She can feel his presence constantly, but she can tell no one. She is alone. The kingdom rests on her shoulders. The lives of her loved ones lie in the palm of her hand. No one would understand wh...
