𝖑𝖝. The King and His Coronation

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𝖑𝖝

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𝖑𝖝. The King and His Coronation


Matt


A CORONATION has always been in Matt's future. The ceremonial crown is not a surprise. He turns it over in his hands, feeling the formidable weight of iron, silver, and gold. In less than an hour, his grandmother will put the monstrosity on his head. His father wore it, too. Orion was already a king when Matt was born, with a different queen from the only one he recalls.

He wishes he could remember her. He wishes the memories he has of his mother are his own, and not stories from Cedric. Not the brush of oil paint instead of living flesh.

The diary copy is still locked away, hidden in a drawer at his bedside in his Archeon chambers. He'll have to move it soon, once the king's rooms are prepared, washed clean of Chris' presence. Matt shudders at the thought. He doesn't know why he's so hesitant to lay hands on such a small and terrible thing. It's just a book. Just a jumble of scrawled letters pieced together. He's faced down executive squads and armies. Fought lightning and storm. Dodged bullets. Fallen through the sky more than once.

And, somehow, his mother's diary scares him more than anything else. He could barely get through a few pages, and even those he had to read with his flamemaker bracelet far away. Her words set him so on edge, he didn't want to risk turning the pages to ash in his hands. The last pieces of Camille Anderson, carefully preserved by her brother. The original is long gone, but Cedric was able to save this much of her.

Matt doesn't know what her voice sounds like. He could find out, if he really wanted to. There are many recordings of her, and photographs, too. But like his father did, Matt stays away from them. From a ghost he never knew.

Part of him doesn't want to get up from the table in that room. It's quiet, peaceful, the inside of a bubble about to burst. He feels as if he's standing on a threshold. The windows look out on Caesar's Square, offering a full view of the chaos to come. Silvers in their house colors stream back and forth over the plaza, most of them heading for the Royal Court. He can barely look at the structure, one of many ringing in the Square.

His father was crowned there, beneath a glittering dome. And Chris was married in the court some months ago.

Maeve was with him then.

She won't be here now.

The loss of her still hurts, a deep wound, but it's missing the same edge as before. They both knew what they were doing, what their choices would be when the time came to choose. Matt only wishes they'd had a few more days, a few more hours.

Now, she's gone. With Chris again.

Matt should be angry. It's a betrayal by any other name. She stole a valuable prisoner from him. Chris' execution would have been an easy and almost bloodless way to reunite the kingdom. But somehow, Matt can't feel anything but annoyance. Partly because he's not surprised. And mostly because Chris is far beyond his reach.

Fatality  ━━  Matt vs Chris Sturniolo²Where stories live. Discover now