Chapter Forty-Two

The entire populace filled the Span, lining the streets from palace to Unification Square. Many more perched atop buildings for a view. Engineers had worked for weeks erecting a grand review platform, with two thrones set atop a high stairwell. Only the nobles and merchant class were allowed within the safety perimeter, and even they had arrived early for the best vantage point for watching the ceremony. Since it was now officially summer, the city of Eston was awash in color, with crimson roses in full bloom along every building, street, and walkway. There were no banners, of course, as these were furled for the great revelation of the king’s chosen crest.

Robert’s legs trembled as he climbed into the carriage, ready to make the processional into a display of its own. Percy would not ride with him, as regent it would be too presumptuous, but neither could Eusari or his brothers—even as nobles, they were too low-born. Sebastian couldn’t even ride with him and sat perched atop the carriage with the driver. Only General Murdoch Kelly was on hand to keep him company and, given their recent adventure, made a welcome companion.

“I’m terrified,” Robert admitted.

“I bet you are,” the general said with a laugh. “Just remember to smile and wave like you aren’t, though.”

With great fanfare the carriage began to roll, easing forward and churning the young king’s stomach even more than it was. A great cheer went up from the crowd, a thunderous one as the joyful chants and cries made their way toward the Span.

“Your Highness,” the general said, suddenly very serious with his tone. “I don’t want to spoil this day, but I have some concerns to share with you, and this was the only place to truly speak alone without the rest of your counsel.”

Robert’s face dropped, suddenly worried by the covert nature of this conversation. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing yet, but I fear it’s coming soon.”

“Why the secrecy? Why not wait until Percy and Cuyler are gathered as well?”

“Because, though Percy is the regent, you are, or will be in a few minutes, the king. This matter is between a general and his monarch.”

“What worries you, General?”

“This war, the one Percy Roan is about to declare, was of his making. I believe he commissioned the pirate attacks against Fjorikan immigrants, and worse, may have been engaged with the arms trafficking.”

“Do you have proof?” Robert demanded. These were serious accusations, but echoed Eusari’s and Anne’s speculations. That the general was willing to risk his life to speak these aloud spoke volume over his loyalty to Eston.

“No, sire. Only a hunch so far. Devil Jacque won’t talk, and the quartermaster’s testimony only went so far. With the first mate’s death, I’m afraid no one but the pirate captain himself knows the truth. Well, him and whoever supplied those arms.”

“Then why tell me?” Robert asked.

“Because I believe this may be a difficult year for you, and I want you to get through it with open eyes.”

Robert laughed. “The best advice I was given when I arrived was to trust no one.”

“Do you trust the person who told you that?”

“Well… No, I guess I shouldn’t.”

“Then take what I’ve told you with an open mind. Just know that, if Roan is the war hawk, he’s in league with the Master Dreamer. I don’t want you to feel outnumbered.”

“So you’re against war like the king was?”

“Against war? To my dying day.”

“That sounds strange coming from a general.”

“I’m against it but sworn to win whichever the politicians throw me into.”

“Good to hear,” the young king said. He admitted, “I’m thankful you’re on our side, General.”

“I’m thankful to be standing on it, sire.”

The carriage rolled to a stop and a footman rushed to open the door. Using the stool because he feared tripping over the heavy robes, Robert eased down and began the trek upward. At the base of the platform he was instructed to genuflect for the ministrations by the priests, enduring a separate ritual for each of the seven heavens. By the time they finished, a flock of attendants helped him rise to his feet and Percy Roan joined him at his side.

“This is a grand day, Your Highness,” the chancellor said with a smile.

“A terrifying one,” Robert agreed.

Together the pair made their way up the tall staircase to the side by side thrones.

“And… turn… smile!” Percy said as practiced. “And… sit.” They sat in unison, again as planned. “That’s it, Your Highness! You’re officially King of Estonia and the empire it controls.”

“It feels odd, but I’m glad you’re by my side, Percy,” Robert lied. This was the last man in Andalon he trusted.

A blast of fanfare trumpeted, echoing through the streets and one by one the banners unfurled, revealing an eagle with a single red rose clutched in its talons.

Percy raised an eyebrow; the crest had been kept secret even from him. “You chose your grandfather’s emblem? The eagle and the rose?

“It seemed fitting,” Robert said with a smile, then did something not planned at all. He was instructed to remain sitting until the event had concluded, but stood defiantly as king and raised his arm straight up into the air.

A great screech roared from the clouds and an eagle descended wearing a circlet of roses around its neck and clutching a single long-stemmed bloom in its talons. The crowd erupted much louder than before as the raptor circled slowly downward, perching on Robert’s arm. Only then did he retake his seat.

“Let’s hope that’s your last surprise, Your Highness,” Percy Roan advised through a clenched smile.

“Then you’d better bring none of your own, Chancellor,” the king warned in return. The day had finally come, Robert Esterling’s seventeenth summer, his passage into adulthood, and his coronation as King of Eston.