lia'

done my

is not mou

are swept clean, banners of gold and ivory draped across the palace walls. Musicians play a melody that is neither joyous nor

om stone. The boy from yesterday-the one who cried into the dirt and cursed the w

I se

lows hard. The way his shoulders remain stiff, not with pride, but with res

h in s

anything. This moment

same words spoken to every ruler before him. The same words that will be spoken long after we are dust. The t

his head, and the pr

sion, meant to be replaced later with the true crown. But even this

lders stiffen as the cold me

th he holds as they l

he is praying. Perhaps he is waiting. Perhaps h

slowly,

ainst one another, loud and eager, as if saying it enough times will

y no

ead, past the golden throne, past the crowd,

e is thinking

t his face as he stands at the helm of a ship, sailing

y call him King, he stil

ng Samuel as their new ruler. Every noble, every advisor, every knight stands

es no

orchlight, his expression unreadable. I can feel the way the ai

of all, he turns aw

ceremonial robes trailing behind him. Gasps ripple throu

is he

he taking

ing is

ing as he strides acr

o her mouth, an advisor's eyes widen in horror. The nobles glance at one anot

stops b

holds i

yes are distant, filled with something heavy-s

rd, he drops

ion. Others are too stunned to react at all. The sight of a king kneeling-not

s ever. I do not fl

ingers trembling as he pres

ri

l, cool aga

m. I do not understand. I do n

eaks. Low enough that the aud

then let me choose s

not r

ot kno

I am not capable

ng feels

nsion, voices rising in confusion

I am not re

t. Devoti

rtal. I do not feel as they do. I do not understand what

he d

veryone else

are a storm gathering in the grand hall, circling like vultures

ilver with an inlaid gemstone that catches the torchlig

around mine, his grip tense, despe

what is

e ring ont

ith something new, something heavier than grief, heavier th

his breath. His shoulders fall, his posture loos

ot kno

ing unspoken settles over his expression. He feels somet

mply. It is the only t

ond before his head tilts downward, a quiet laugh slipping f

murmurs.

ll understand something I do not. The way Samuel could only smile faintly as he continued to l

rial offering. Perhaps it is a human custom, some kind

es me feel like it was recharging every bits of energy I have lost in my body.

to rise and return to his throne. Because that is what he must do... a King should not

esn't sta

moment, as if something irreversible has happened. Then, slowly, he st

ones who now watch him not just as th

g. I do not know

way before I could even die? As if there was something that chained me to him even though there wa

n is that? What did