Everett the Benevolent

ONE: Coronation

"This feels wrong, Matthew."

"What do you mean? This is your birthright."

"No, this is Tara's," I insisted."She is older than I. The true heir, as tradition dictates. I don't understand why she can't just--"

Matthew placed a hand on my shoulder. "You do know. She has found her place as oracle, and that means you must accept the role of monarch. This is your duty. You were born to serve this kingdom and I--I don't think anyone else would do a better job than you could."

We sat, somber and quiet, until Leah entered the foyer. "Your Highness, Tara is on her way."

Matthew stood, allowing me one last glance of reassurance before he exited to wait in the ballroom with the other courtiers. As promised, my sister entered shortly afterward, wearing a lavender silk gown to match the lavender family crest on my cape.

"It's time," she said, hand on my shoulder.

Father had died several weeks hence. He was, by nature, a sickly man who could not handle too much of anything. His illness had recently grown more severe, and while I had known for several years that his death would precipitate my ascension to the throne, I had always hoped that his inevitable passing would remain distant. I had always hoped to keep Father around for just a few more weeks or years, that I would never have to live a life without his guidance and protection. The weight of this entire kingdom is on me now. He is not here to counsel me.

My introspection was disrupted by a knock on the door.

"Enter."

Leif came through the door and informed us that the procession was ready. Leading the way, I exited the foyer and headed toward the main wing of the palace, where the holy procession awaited. We descended the grand staircase into the ballroom, greeted by a surge of cheers from the crowd below.

---

"We shouldn't have scheduled the coronation for tonight." I paced on the balcony in carefully measured steps.

"Why not? The Attraction is the most auspicious night to hold an event of such great import."

The coronation had come and gone, and the celebratory feast was still going on downstairs; bright lights and cacophonous voices emanated from the grand hall below. The festivities had been interrupted by Tara's vision; she'd collapsed and been taken up to her chambers, and Matthew and I followed to keep watch over her. Every year on the Attraction, the strength of the cosmic energy caused Tara to have powerful visions. We had scheduled the coronation for today because of the alleged good luck that superstition held came along with this cosmic energy, but had been expecting Tara to have a vision tonight as well.

"She lied to us about her vision."

I could not see Matthew--my gaze was fixed on the stones lining the balcony--but I imagined he was frowning. "She would not do that. As an oracle, she is tasked to truthfully recollect her visions"

"She would do that if... the truth was too gruesome for her to say aloud, or for me to hear."

"But how would you even be able to determine that she was lying?" he demanded.

After her vision, Tara had risen with a marked fear in her eyes that I hadn't seen her with since we were children. She had told us her vision was of a crowd cheering, "Long live the Fontaines." With trembling hands, she had proposed a toast to our family line, and after emptying her cup she had fallen unconscious.

"Seldom is anything jarring enough to cause Tara to lose her composure as she did tonight. I haven't seen her react to a vision that way since--since her first prophecy, over a decade ago."

We were silent. Then Matthew responded, "What do you think she saw?"

I remembered the horror she'd described in her first prophecy. She had been willing to disclose details of such gore to me in my childhood, but could not even speak plainly about tonight's prophecy to me when I was a king. Whatever she'd seen tonight must have been equally as unsavory, or worse.

Perhaps she did not see anything especially disturbing, but instead did not want me to concern myself with the prophecy until after the festivities had concluded. Perhaps when she wakes up, she will tell me the truth. But in my heart I knew these were not true. She would have told me if she'd had a displeasing prophecy--such was her duty as oracle.

"I don't know," I answered at last. "But whatever it is... we must prepare for the worst."