[redith].
"I, Draven Oatrun, swear before the Moon Goddess and the Great People of Stormveil to protect this land, to uphold justice, and to rule with strength and integrity. My life belongs to Stormveil."
A murmur of approval followed. Then it was my turn. I took a slow breath.
"I, redith Carter," I began, my voice steady despite the weight of the mont, "swear before the Moon Goddess and the Great People of Stormveil to protect this kingdom with wisdom and courage."
My gaze lifted slightly, scanning the sea of faces, then I continued.
"My life, whether it be long or short, belongs to Stormveil. I will stand beside my King in loyalty, and before my people in responsibility. I will not turn away from hardship, nor will I allow fear to silence justice."
The hall fell completely silent. I ant every word.
Valmora stirred within , her presence warm and proud. "This is what we were born for," she whispered through our bond.
Next, the priest dipped her fingers into the sacred water and marked our foreheads with silver.
Then ca the mont. Draven rose first, and I rose with him. He took his place upon the throne carved for the King of Stormveil. I sat beside him.
The female priest lifted the King’s crown—a heavy piece of silver and obsidian—and placed it upon Draven’s head.
The hall exhaled. Then she turned to .
As the Queen’s crown hovered above , a low, amused hum echoed in my mind. "They will feel us."
The crown settled onto my head. And in that very second, Valmora allowed a sliver of her aura to slip free. It was unmistakable.
A cool wave swept through the hall like the touch of sothing ancient brushing against mortal senses. The torches flickered faintly, a few Alphas stiffened in their seats, and so elders straightened abruptly.
Then, Valmora withdrew just as quickly, satisfied.
The priest stepped forward once more and turned to face the gathered assembly. Her voice carried, strong and ceremonial.
"The Great People of Stormveil," she declared, "I present to you your King, His Majesty, King Draven Oatrun—"
A small pause followed, then she continued, "And your Queen, Her Majesty, Queen redith Carter."
For one breathless heartbeat, the hall remained frozen.
Then every single person rose to their feet. Nobles, Alphas, Elders, and warriors.
They bowed far deeper than before, and their words echoed like thunder.
"Congratulations, Your Majesties!"
"Congratulations!"
"Long live the King!"
"Long live the Queen!"
Right then, my chest tightened with sothing fierce and victorious. I had endured, I had proven myself. And now, no one could ever strip this from again.
I glanced sideways at Draven. His expression was calm, powerful, and resolute. But when his eyes t mine, warmth broke through the steel.
We had done it. Stormveil was ours.
---
The transition from the coronation hall to the grand banquet chamber felt almost surreal to .
Music swelled. Nobles flowed like silk through marble corridors. Servants moved in perfect rhythm. The scent of roasted ats, aged wine, and sweet pastries filled the air.
And on my head, the crown was heavier than it had felt during the ceremony.
The headpiece of gold and moonstone rested firmly against my silver curls, its weight constant and unyielding. My gown, though perfectly fitted, suddenly felt warr than before.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
I finally understood.
Draven and I were escorted to the elevated royal table. Two grand chairs carved from obsidian oak awaited us. When we sat, the entire hall stood once more before slowly returning to their seats.
Goblets of deep red wine were placed before us, and the procession began.
One by one, they ca, all the Alphas, Betas and Generals, forr Kings and Queens of Stormveil, and nobles draped in jewels and old pride.
Each approached the dais, bowed deeply, raised their goblets, and pledged loyalty.
"To His Majesty, King Draven Oatrun, and Her Majesty, Queen redith Carter. May your reign be prosperous and unshaken."
We raised our goblets in return. We sipped only a asured amount each ti, for fear of losing clarity tonight.
Then, another group ca, and we sipped. Then another, and we sipped again.
Draven’s hand occasionally brushed mine on the armrest. A silent reminder that we were enduring this together.
A few minutes later, I saw my father. Behind him was my mother, then Monique, Gary, and Mabel. They walked forward as a unit.
They bowed first to Draven, then to . For a brief second, sothing tightened inside my chest.
All the years of ridicule, cold als, whispers. They had repeatedly called cursed and worthless. And now? They bowed before in front of the entire kingdom.
My sisters’ heads were lowered, but I saw the stiffness in their shoulders. The resentnt burning in their eyes even as they bent their knee.
Gary’s jaw was tight, Monique’s smile strained, while Mabel’s lips pressed so hard they had lost colour.
For a fleeting mont, I considered it. A single sentence from , and they would never step foot in this palace again.
Power is frightening when you first feel it in your hands. But today was not about vengeance. And before my darker thoughts could grow roots, Valmora’s voice echoed inside .
"Let your enemies co often. Let them bow often. Let them rember this feeling every ti they walk through these gates."
A laugh almost escaped . She was right. There are punishnts far more elegant than exile, so I sealed my lips.
I simply lifted my goblet when it was required.
Draven spoke smoothly on our behalf, thanking the Moonstone pack for their attendance.
Then, my family stepped back. And the world kept moving.
Next ca Dennis and Helena. The shift in atmosphere was imdiate.
Dennis bowed dramatically. "Your Majesties."
Helena followed gracefully, her eyes warm but respectful.
I studied them openly. They stood closer than before, though subtly, but noticeably.
"You both are well matched," I said, allowing warmth into my voice. "You should not keep Stormveil waiting too long for another celebration."
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