His brother looked on in obvious bewilderment as if the words had not yet registered, as if they were too much for him to take in. Julian held out his hand to his brother, clasping him to his side with one arm as he held his sister against his chest with the other. “It will be well.” He kissed his brother’s cheek before releasing him again.
Whereas his siblings were now allowed to show their grief and sorrow he held fast to his staunch outward calm and waited for them to settle down. The big brother was gone and in his place now stood their king. Even that had been changed in a moment this day.
He schooled himself and looked at the two of them as his little sister came to herself with tears streaming down her face. Ever the princess, she did not make a sound as she looked to her brother for direction.
“There is much to be done before this day is over pull yourselves together.” They both bowed before their brother the new king and pledged allegiance to him. Julian laid his hands on their heads and blessed them before helping them to their feet. He found that he was reluctant to leave the sanctity of the room he was in, to go face his people. Once he walked out those doors the life he knew would be at an end and a new one begun.
Julian spent more time with his siblings getting them settled when he knew he should be handling matters of the throne. Their grief was real to him and he understood well their fear. They were now essentially orphans with only a brother to stand between them and the world. A world that still held some hostility, and if he didn’t handle himself well, their very lives would be forfeit. It was times like these he wished he’d been born the son of a dairymaid.
His men would be waiting for his orders. The passing of the throne called for much ceremony, none of which he was interested in just then. He could hear movement beyond the doors but did not rush to answer the unuttered call. Let them wait. He would take this time to grieve with his family because after this day he must put it aside and look to the future.
Unlike most of his peers, he had loved his father. Not because he was a king, but because of the man he had been. He had known from the time he was old enough to understand such things, that he would one day sit on the throne, but never did he want it at the demise of his sire.
“Come now you two there will be time enough for that later. We must do father proud.” He looked at the two young people he was now solely responsible for. His brother was of age, in fact he had already been betrothed to marry, but his sister Lillian was a girl of ten, a child.
In one day the brother had become the father, with all the responsibility that entailed. Once his brother and sister had composed themselves he sent them away and called his chief minister to him in the inner chamber.
“Your majesty.” The man bowed his head and awaited his orders.
“Gather the barons and all the men of noble houses as well as the lord chancellor. I will have my coronation now without pomp and ceremony in honor of my father’s mourning.”
He gave the order as he walked back to his old rooms to change out of the bloody, sweaty garments he’d arrived in. Already he had put his grief behind him. There was nothing to be gained by his bowing beneath the heavy burden of a broken heart.
He wished that he could put off everything, but the country had suffered a loss. They had been faced with war and uncertainty. Leaving them without a king, a leader, will only serve to weaken their resolve more.
“Nicholas, with me.” He will start carrying out his father’s orders at once. As well as implementing what he had long thought to be necessary changes. Things that he’d thought long and hard on. Things that made sense, to the man, as well, as the king.
As a king in waiting he’d had ample opportunity to sit back and watch. To see where there was weakness in his father’s kingdom, now he meant to strengthen his own arm. Strike now while the iron is hot. He will give his trust to no one. His trust had died with his king. He would never forget that his sire had been betrayed and never will he give anyone the power to do the same to him.
In the rooms he once occupied when in residence at Glendairy, he looked around at some of the youthful things he’d collected over time. He saw his life as it had been. Remnants of his childhood, a childhood that for all intents and purposes had been over long ago, but in all actuality had died on a battlefield a few short hours thence.