Glow

Chapter Two

It was the morning after the wedding.

The crowds were moving swiftly, and Arvind could barely keep up. He clung tightly to his sister and brother’s hands as they marched up the street. People pressed into his back and his arms, and it was all he could do to keep a hold on his siblings.

Isaura, ten, was his little sister. She tried to move ahead, hanging back when she went too far, giving her brother a look that asked, Aren’t you coming? Namu, age nine, was his little brother. He walked along, clutching Arvind's hand. Arvind himself was seventeen, and took care of his siblings for as long as he could remember. Ever since his mother had died, he was the only one he actually trusted with his siblings.

The crowd was beginning to get thicker, with more people joining the queue. They were all surging toward the same goal. The castle. As it neared in view, the crowd became heavier, as if one was trying to swim rather than walk. Arvind repressed the urge to push people aside, and got as close as he could to the castle with two children in tow. He adjusted Namu so that he could ride on Arvind’s shoulders and Isaura so she could stand on his knee. It was another few minutes before the event began.

The Queen entered on to the balcony, graceful and poised, to greet her subjects. As she appeared, a roar overtook the people, and they roared for a whole minute before she raised her hand and it became silent. Arvind rolled his eyes. Theatrics.

“People of Sarojin,” She began, raising her voice, though she needn’t for you could hear a pillow dropping in that space of people, all silent but for their queen. “Today is a momentous occasion. Although the god Aphorel has brought to us death and destruction, I hope to bring peace and prosperity. For today, my son, my life, is to be given the highest honour. Today, he will be crowned as your king.”

Another roar rose. Isaura bent down to her brother and asked, “Why are they shouting?”

“They love their queen.”

She paused for a moment and then looked him square in the eye. “Do you?”

“I suppose,” He said, shrugging. “But she can have her moments.”

The queen continued. “Once he is crowned, our realm and Kunda…” (Here there was a bout of hissing) “…will be reunited once more. We will create peace. We will create order out of chaos.”

More cheers.

“So now, I call my son. My only. My light,” The queen gestured toward the double doors behind her. “Prince Lennox!”

“Long may he live!” The people shouted.

The doors burst open, and out came the prince. He was dressed in the mink robes customarily worn by the soon-to-be-king.

Then the crown was brought forward.

The crown was beautiful, a circlet adorned with rubies and sapphires, the traditional jewels of Sarojin and Kunda, united. The circlet itself was silver and engraved with leaves on the sides. Two were presented, one with mostly rubies and a sapphire pressed in the middle, and the other exactly identical, except the diamond placement was switched around. The two crowns glittered in the sunlight, and the queen gestured to her son. He stepped forward, and with a flourish the sapphire-with-one-ruby crown was settled among the prince’s brown locks. Its twin was set with equal display upon the princess’ raven-black curls.

The queen stepped back and waved her hand towards her son. Clapping, cheering, and whistling ensued. Prince Lennox stepped forward, his smile one of pure joy.