The day of the coronation ceremony dawned cool and crisp. The glory of Zanara's creation was in full evidence that autumn morning; leaves of brilliant red, flaming orange, and luminous yellow had touched the imperial gardens, making it look as if the verdant landscape had been touched by fire.

Several city guardsmen wearing imperial livery in sky blue and red stood at attention, flanking the stairway leading up to the front doors of the palace. Supplementing their number were men and women of the Hanpean forces; dressed in sensible clothes and leather armor in dun and dark green, these soldiers lacked the polish of the imperial guard, but looked far more dangerous at a glance.

The Sovereign Square was filled with people. A path leading from the foot of the palace stairway through the square to the Imperial Temple had been kept empty, but on either side of it were Arcborn and Starborn people. The crowd was split nearly down the middle by the birthrights of those assembled; those who wore the marke stood toward the back of the crowd, and those without stood near the front. It was as it always had been as far back as any man or woman living could recall.

Inside the palace, Matei and Mhera stood away from the window so that they could not be seen from outside, watching the milling crowd. Matei looked at Mhera, hoping he seemed calmer than he felt. "Are you ready?"

"Just promise me I will not have to keep a straight face when I call you Your Grace," she said.

The pitch of her voice belied her playful words. He could tell she was as nervous as he. "This is just a nod to tradition, Mhera. Once we wear the crown, we can start the true work. It will all be worth it."

"I know." She met his gaze directly. Although her face was pale and her expression tense, her eyes were a guileless gray.

In those eyes, Matei saw what he had been taken from her: a simple life. She may not have been wholly happy, but she would have been shielded from difficult decisions and from too much pain. He saw her as she had been the first night he'd laid eyes on her after they had grown up apart, veiled in gray and moved by the mercy that had proved her undoing. Now, on the day that she was to be crowned Empress of Penrua, she wore a dusty blue dress very much like the habit she had worn as a nun.

"No silks or jewels," he said, noticing her lack of adornment for the first time. Her gown was neatly cut and of costly fabric, but compared to the usual garb of court ladies, it was quite plain. He had not noticed the absence of finery at first; he hadn't seen her in clothing befitting a royal daughter since both of them had been young. "Not for lack of them, I hope?"

"Gella would have had me blind the populace," she said with a soft laugh. "I did not want jewels, Matei."

He was surprised by the pang of affection he felt toward her in that moment. "They would not suit you."

Mhera smiled. "I am not sure whether I should be flattered or offended," she said, reaching out to straighten the cravat he wore. "And you, for your part...I haven't seen you in such finery since we were children."

He looked down at his clothing. Master Eovin—Father...shall I call him my father?—had lent him an elegant coat, a crisp white shirt, and a sapphire blue cravat. The fit was very good; they had hardly needed tailoring. "The emperor in borrowed clothes," he said, closing his hand over hers.

The clarion sound of trumpets interrupted anything else he might have said.

"Ow," said Mhera mildly.

He realized he had clenched her hand in his surprise. He loosened his grasp at once. "I'm sorry, Mhera." Crooking his arm, he placed her hand on the inside of his elbow.

"It's all right. I am not sure there has ever been a more frightening sound."

A familiar voice called to them from somewhere above. "Are you ready, Matei? My lady?"

Turning, Matei saw the lorekeeper, Master Eovin, descending the stair. "As ready as we shall be," he said. "Do we go out now?"

"Your presence is, unfortunately, required," said Eovin with a smile. He stopped at the bottom of the stairway and bowed deeply, first to Mhera, and then to Matei. "They will need heads upon which to place the crowns, after all."

Mhera laughed; it was a nervous sound. "Let's get this over with. Please."

Eovin peeked out the window. "The priests are assembled; all is in order. Come, my lady. I suppose this shall be the last time I can call you that."

"You can call me Mhera," she said. "Now and always."

The lorekeeper tutted as he led the way to the door. "What would Madam Gella say at such wanton disregard of propriety?" And with that, he pushed open one of the great double doors. As if by magic, the other swung outward, pulled from without by one of the city guard.

Mhera and Matei, standing arm in arm in the doorway, looked out at the people that would be theirs to govern and theirs to protect only a few moments hence. They stepped into the sunlight and walked to the top of the palace stair.

Awaiting them were a man and a woman in white robes with lavender stripes from throat to toe: a priest and a priestess of Zanara. Both of them folded their hands at their waists and bowed, and Mhera and Matei bowed in exchange. Then, the priest and priestess turned and walked down the stairs to the courtyard. Matei and Mhera followed. The guards who had stood cordoning off the stairway parted to permit them passage and then flanked them as they walked, and Master Eovin brought up the rear.

It was a long walk to the Imperial Temple, and the hiss and roar of the crowd was unnerving. Matei looked around at the watchful faces of the folk assembled there. In some of their expressions he saw happiness and hope. In others, he saw mistrust and anger.

The Imperial Temple was already sweltering from the mass of people crowded inside, and the air was heavy with incense. Matei and Mhera followed the priest and the priestess down the carpeted aisle toward the front of the great, echoing chamber. In the oppressive crowd, with the choking incense drifting through the air and the stiff coat restricting his movements and causing him to sweat, Matei felt he might be sick.

They reached the front of the nave of the temple. There was the grand altar dedicated to the goddess, set on a dais raised two steps above the temple floor. On the dais to one side sat Prince Kaori in a chair; although the poles had been removed, Matei could tell it was a litter, and his stomach churned with guilt when he realized his brother had had to be borne hence on the shoulders of servants, an indignity he was sure rankled Kaori more than he would have let on. A few paces behind Kaori, half in shadow, stood Aun. There were more priests and priestesses assembled on the other side of the dais. Standing in the front of the crowd and to one side were a few figures swathed from head to toe in gray, their features indistinguishable behind long gray veils. One of them carried a driftwood staff.

"Mother Abbess," Mhera breathed.

Matei was not without his own allies in the crowd. Near the front, attended by an Arcborn soldier, was Rhea; her eyes were alight, and when he looked her way, she laid her hand on her attendant's forearm and pointed at Matei as if to say, There he is—my boy. Matei's heart swelled with love for the old woman, and he nodded at her to make certain that she knew he had seen her.

Aun was there, of course, as a nurse to the regent, and he saw Uachi standing with a few other Hanpean fighters near the wall, apart from the crowd and ever watchful. Uachi had even brought his bow and his quiver. Matei wondered what the priests had had to say about that, and he could not suppress a smile. He was not about to reprimand Uachi for bringing his arms to such an event; after all, the last mass gathering of Karelinian citizens had been for an execution, and it was Uachi's bow that had set into motion a more favorable ending for them all.

Surveying the crowd, Matei saw little else to comfort him there. In the faces of many of the Starborn was naked hostility.

The crowd hushed. Matei turned his attention back to the front of the temple, just in time to see Prince Kaori struggling to his feet.

"Citizens of Karelin. Citizens of Penrua. Listen well," Kaori said, raising his voice so that every word echoed through the vast sanctum of the temple. "I am Prince Kaori, son of Emperor Korvan, his second-born. Before my father's death, he named me heir to his throne. If there be any man, woman, or child in his empire who would deny it, let that person speak now."

The silence was complete. Kaori surveyed the crowd for several seconds as his words hung in the air, lending his claim to the throne its moment in history. Finally, he said, "To sit the throne of Penrua is a holy duty, a covenant with the people of this realm. The man or woman who undertakes to rule our beloved land must be strong, wise, and committed, body and soul, to put Penrua above all other commitments, all other desires. I am unequal to the duty and the privilege of the crown."

A subtle buzz of voices began, but faded away almost immediately; the people were rapt.

"Under the gaze of the Goddess, witnessed by our holy priests, the Daughters of Zanara, and the citizens of Karelin, I hereby renounce my claim to the throne and name my brother, Matei u Rhodana—once called Koreti—and my cousin, Mhera daughter of Mharin, the rightful heirs to the crown. I make this claim for them by virtue of kinship; Matei and I shared a mother, and Mhera is the daughter of my aunt. By bloodright, the throne is theirs."

Kaori slumped back into his seat. Matei could see he was exhausted, but the prince held his head high and looked at the priest and the priestess standing at his side. But before either of them could speak, a voice from the crowd split the silence like an axe.

"Usurper!"

The word echoed in the cavernous chamber. Matei sought the face of the speaker in the crowd, but others began to shout, too, and soon the temple was a chaos of noise.

"I'll never bow to the Rebel King!"

"Prince Kaori—Prince Coward, more like!"

"Murderer! Murderer!"

"Scum!"

"This is the end of the world—the world is ending in blood and fire—"

"Where is Prince Koren? He's the rightful heir!"

"Should have seen your head roll—we'll see it still!"

Matei placed his hand over Mhera's where it rested on his elbow. He stole a glance at her. She was very pale, but her face was a mask of calm. He drew a breath to whisper some reassurance, not even sure what it would be, when Kaori's voice rang out again.

"People of Karelin, silence!" The shouting diminished, but continued. Near at hand, Matei could see the sweat dampening his brother's brow as Kaori put all of his energy into being heard above the crowd. "Some of you were here the day Matei u Rhodana and Lady Mhera faced their execution. Without hesitation, Matei would have given up his life to restore peace to the land that he loved, and Mhera, a Daughter of Zanara and a woman of gentle birth, stood at his side. Out of love for Penrua—out of love for you—they did this!

"And if you were indeed here on that dreadful day, you witnessed the miracle of divine will made manifest! Both of them were crowned with stars! Would you stand against the will of Zanara herself?"

"Trickery!" One man had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He wore the white and lavender robe, but his red face and disheveled hair set him apart from the other holy men and women of the Temple. "You ask us to believe that Zanara herself marked these two disgusting creatures as heirs to the throne, when he—" and here, the priest spat on the polished floor—"could easily have worked some evil magic to make it appear to be so? This is a farce! The forces of darkness are leading our nation into chaos and discord, and that beast has deceived you all!"

Murmurs of assent could be heard sweeping through the crowd.

The priest flung his arms out, bawling, "They are nothing but a devil and his whore! He's the Dark God incarnate, living again! I will never bend the knee—not to them!"

Prince Kaori did not even raise his voice this time; Matei heard him only by virtue of his proximity. "Arrest him."

At once, two of the city guardsmen stepped forward, spears in hand, and closed in on the wild-eyed priest. Behind them, the remaining guards and the Hanpean soldiers closed ranks, edging in to protect Matei and Mhera once again.

The priest at Kaori's side raised his arms, stepping forward into full view of the crowd. "My children, do not listen to this sower of lies. Look: I and my brethren stand here to bear witness to this coronation. We do this with the approval and the blessing of Our Lady the Queen of Heaven, to whose will we are ever subject."

Still screaming, the dissenting priest was being dragged from the temple; he was kicking and thrashing like a snared animal. Some of the folk assembled—all Starborn, Matei noted—were slipping back through the crowd and out the wide-open doors of the temple into the blinding daylight, shaking their heads and muttering. Among those who remained, expressions ranged from outrage to disbelief to fear.

"Father Passin," Mhera said. There were bright spots of color burning high on her cheeks. Fear or shame? "Perhaps another time—"

"No," Matei interjected. "Please—let us continue with what's needful and dispense, where we can, with the formalities."

Eesh. *Checks her notes* I could have sworn this was supposed to be easy and nothing was ever supposed to go wrong for Matei and Mhera ever again.

*Flings notes out the window.* Well, we'll play it by ear!

I'll see you back here on 9/4, which is Tuesday! Thank you so very much for reading, my friend. Your comments and support mean the world to me. On Posting Days, which are holidays and require capitalization, I wake up so excited to share the next chapter that I post it before I even get up out of bed.

This makes me very happy and makes my cat, Smidgeon, very upset, because it delays her breakfast by about 0.5 seconds. Here she is from this morning wondering why y'all get your post before she gets her food.