Moon Drunk: Origins

Coronation Eve

"Preparations are underway for your coronation! The whole of the kingdom is buzzing like a beehive," Margrithe announces excitedly as she bounces Prince Fionn in her arms. "You are about to achieve your destiny. Did you hear that, Fionn? Your mother is about to become Queen."

Felicite offers her son a wide smile and offers him her hand, but her smile weakens as she faces her aunt. It has been decided that the coronation is to be a splendid, glorious event, the most exquisite in the history of Briony. Not as a compliment to Felicite, however; only to prove that she is receiving the treatment she was always set to receive regardless of the king she married. And, there is, of course, the fact that the coronation of Felicite as queen solidifies Julien's position as king. With the rightful queen upon the throne, the people must accept Julien as their king.

She is anxious, her heart thudding in her chest as she thinks about the meaning of the events in the days to come. Her faith in Julien has grown, but becoming queen makes her an enemy of her own brothers, Mariusz and Richard. As Princess Felicite, she is not a threat to them; as Queen Felicite, she is now a bitter rival.

"I am only going to be queen of Briony. Even Julien is not yet crowned king of the Three Kingdoms yet," she says, using her anxiety about the coronation to hide her true fear.

"Are you ill, Felicite?" Anjolique raises her hand and touches it gently to her daughter's forehead. "You are pale."

Felicite shakes her head, casting her eyes to the floor. "I am fine, Mother. Perhaps a bit nervous."

"Calm yourself," her mother commands. "You were born for this. The seamstress will be coming to deliver your coronation gown. But we must choose a gown for the banquet tonight. Nobles are traveling from around the world to attend, and we must prepare to meet them this afternoon. I thought you should wear your burgundy, in honor of the Fleming colors..."

Felicite gazes out the window to the east, where the cathedral in which she will be crowned queen lies, its high spires disappearing into the low-hanging clouds of the greying sky. 

"Your Grace, the king is here," Shimara says, and Felicite dismisses her ladies, her mother included, as Julien enters her chamber, closing the doors behind him.

"Are you well, Felicite?"

"I am," Felicite says bravely. 

"You wished to speak with me?" he asks, gazing at her curiously.

"No," she shakes her head with a smile. "I did not wish to speak with you."

Julien studies her with a curious expression. "I am mistaken," he says. "I will bid you goodday-"

She is in his arms before he can complete his sentence.

And later, as they lay tangled together in the bed sheets, he presses a tender kiss to her lips.

"Tomorrow, I shall see my promise fulfilled," he says. "I shall see you crowned as my queen."

The traditional feast is held on the eve of the coronation, and Lucien has brought his family, despite their reduced position since the arrest of Lucien and Florian following their uprising.  They enter the Great Hall where Princess Felicite awaits them, seated in a great chair on a raised dais, beneath a gold cloth of estate. She forces a serene, calm expression onto her face to hide her disgust for her brothers-in-law, though the smug smiles on their treasonous faces makes her want to vomit.

Both kneel before her in a shameful mockery of the sacred fealty ceremony. Florian beats a hasty retreat, but Lucien sweeps an arrogant bow.

"Your Grace," he says haughtily, bending to kiss her cheek. "You are a vision on the eve of your coronation."