AMIRA
The dress turned out exactly how I envisioned it.
A tight, bustier-style bodice fully concealed my breasts, leaving my neck and shoulders exposed. A long train of emerald silk embroidered with gold-and-black serpents went atop a gauzy skirt. But best of all was a tall, stiff collar that opened like a fan over my shoulders. It framed my neck and provided the background for my face with the crown over it.
Gathered around my neck, my veil served as a scarf. But for once, the sensation of it was more restricting than comforting. My veil was a limitation I wished I could get rid of.
Fully dressed, I took in my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the king’s wardrobe room.
I hardly recognized the woman who was staring back through the veil at me. It was no longer the timid, abused girl from the menagerie. The only thing left from her was the dragonfly barrette I had clipped to one of my braids under the veil.
Compared to the priceless royal jewels adoring my arms, legs, and chest, the dragonfly was rather modest. But it was more precious to me than any treasures of the world.
“It’s cute,” one of the maids who did my hair said. “But do you think it fits with your outfit today, Your Majesty? It’s rather plain.”
“If you knew what the man who made it had to work with to create it, you’d know it’s a true masterpiece,” I replied, keeping the barrette on.
This was all I had left of Kyllen. He might be gone from this world, but he had never left my heart. I felt his support, his affection… No, it was stronger than that. What I felt was his undying love for me. It gave me strength.
I drew in a long breath and squared my shoulders.
The crowned woman in the mirror, dressed in the regal gown, looked every bit the person I wished to be—Amira, the Queen of Lorsan.
“Let’s do it,” I whispered to the queen in the mirror, and she nodded back at me in support and encouragement.
For this ceremony, I had ordered a floating platform built right on the lake. Surrounded by the seven trees of the royal palace, it was the perfect place for as many of the people of Ufaris to be a part of the ceremony as possible. And so many of them were already there when the boat procession took me from the royal tree to the platform.
Servants, merchants, soldiers, artisans—citizens of Ufaris and visitors from all over Lorsan—all gathered on their paddle boards, vendor rafts, and fishing boats. Hands raised in the air, their senties undulating from excitement, they shouted my name and cheered.
Freeing my hands from my long sleeves, I waved at the crowd and grinned.
“To the queen!” someone shouted.
The cheer got caught by the crowd. People raised their glasses and steins filled with drinks paid for by the crown.
This was what I wanted, to be right here, on the same level with everyone else, to be a part of the crowd. The feeling of belonging flooded me.
These were my people.
My home.
The crowd parted, allowing for my boat to pass. It was followed by a flotilla of guards on paddle boards. A string of them carried the long train of my dress over the water.
The crowd of courtiers on the raft-platform greeted me by bowing their heads. I ascended the dais to the royal throne erected for me. Once I sat down, the ladies-in-waiting arranged the train of my dress around the dais. In brilliant green, glistening with the gold-and-black embroidery, the train of the dress looked like the tail of a slithering serpent draped down the stairs and around my throne.
Royal guards enclosed the dais in a circle. But I spotted Councilor Delahon in the group nearby and gestured for him to come closer. I respected this man for the same qualities King Zeldren used to dislike him for—his thorough knowledge of the law and his strict adherence to it.
Councilor Delahon was an adamant stickler to the rules. He also knew a great deal about all the High Lords whom I was supposed to greet and welcome today and whose promises of loyalty I needed to obtain.
“Could you stay here, please?” I asked the councilor, pointing at the spot to the right of my throne. “I may need your help.”
He took the place at my side.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” The bright magenta glow bled from his senties onto the councilor’s ink-black cheeks in a blush. He was obviously flattered by my singling him out.
It had taken a few days, but all the High Lords had now come to Ufaris. Maybe they still hoped for a shift in power in their favor, but today was all about them pledging their fealty to me.
Beautiful music floated over the crowd. Live musicians positioned in the nearby trees played instruments enhanced by magic.
Instead of the usual tables, tall stands with food and drinks peppered the platform. People ate while standing, which not only allowed them to mingle more freely, it also saved space on the raft. The floating platform was almost as large as the main terrace up on the royal tree, yet it had to accommodate more people today.
As far as I could see, the surface of the lake was covered with boats, boards, and people. The royal platform was just a part of this endless sea of people.
A stream cut through it. A flotilla of boats and boards was moving toward us. When the first of them reached the platform, the courtier in charge of the ceremony announced loudly, “The High Lord of Osim, the High Lady of Osim, and their heir, Lord Eforn.”
I leaned over to Councilor Delahon. “Question. Purely out of curiosity. How would the High Lord of Osim, for example, compete for my hand in a tournament if he’s already married?”
“His heir would compete,” he replied.
“What if he didn’t have a son?”
“Unless they’re bonded mates, the law allows a High Lord to set aside his existing spouse for a more advantageous match. The queen would be considered a far more desirable spouse than any other lady in the kingdom.”
Set aside his current wife, like a discarded object.