The Council leader nodded. “This is good, Savior.Thisis what we need.”
Isobel squeezed Sean’s hand once more, shooting him a small smile.
“You shall meet with Bowenn and give us regular briefs,” Nish said.
A grin fought to break, but Sean willed it away. “Perfect. This is—perfect.”
Every Council member beamed his way—knowing stares that made him restless.
He scratched his neck. “What is it?”
Heleta tipped forward, her voice going soft as her braids brushed the table. “You are ready.”
Nerves jolted through Sean’s stomach. “What?”
“You are ready for the crown, Sir Caden,” said Dahlia, her sylph gold sparkling in the sunlight from the windows behind her. “Even the Queen believes so. She sent a missive three days past, asking why the Savior wears no crown and why she has received no audience with him. It is time.”
Sean wanted to deny it, to flee, but instead, he picked up his prism and looked through it. This was just the next step. He’d known it was coming, and it didn’t change anything.
“We shall plan it in the coming weeks, yes?” Nish eyed him closely. “Kywyn shall pass down his crown.”
“And Elenya,” Sean said pointedly.
The man’s smile tightened. “Aye.”
In just a few weeks, Sean would be a crowned Sovereign of his people. His stomach clenched.
When they left, Kywyn gripped his shoulder. “You did great. Are you ready?”
“Where exactly is this crown? You never wear it.”
His father laughed, as did Isobel. “None of us do. Damned uncomfortable, the thing is. I’ll be glad to be rid of it.”
Sean raised one eyebrow and said in a voice that reminded even him of David, “So glad I could take it off your hands.”
“When you take the crown, you will need to dine in the Great Terrace,” Aunt Blaire said that evening as she settled into the crowded dinner table.
Across from him, Autumn and Cole sat closer than necessary, while beside him, Isobel kept a respectable distance, her face a tad pale.
“She’s right,” Kywyn said on his other side. “People question why you hide.”
Sean reached for the basket of glowberries. “I’m not hiding.”
“Yes, you are,” David said without looking at him, and Anna pinched his ribs. He flinched away.
“You’re one to talk,” she said.
His gaze swung toward her. “Theaudacityof me, right?”
“So you meet with Bowenn tomorrow?” Kywyn asked, spooning soup into a bowl.
Sean nodded. “We’ll have to figure out how to gather supplies. Weapons. Money.”
“Yes, I understand coin rules humans,” his father said.
“Greedrules humans,” he corrected.
“David could get you coin,” Isobel said, her gaze on her food. “It would take little effort for him to extort mortals.”
