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Soon, the same bearded man who’d taken the ring yesterday arrived in worship robes. He bowed to Niall and did not acknowledge me. Why would he? It would draw attention that the holy man might have something to do with me and my folk.

He knew how to play his role well.

“I will take the ring, My Lord, and we shall walk to the dais together.”

“Behind the woman. You will block line of sight to her as she places the ring on my finger.”

The holy man furrowed his brow. “The . . . the woman will place the ring?”

“Yes.” It would be strange to have anyone bequeath such honor upon a noble other than another noble or holy officiator. Then again, no one here truly knew how to perform a royal coronation. Niall didn’t leave room for argument. “Now lead.”

The guests were dressed as they had been not so many weeks ago. Feathers and satin, waistcoats and gold dust. Most had not pinned their masks to their faces, but I had no doubt every guest was splitting at the seams with excitement for another Masque av Aska.

So, Ivar was dead. So, war was on the brink. What did it matter when their new king offered them wine and tricks until dawn?

I kept an even stride behind Niall. High nobles waited impatiently behind the dais. Southern folk stood near their princess. A few lifted their masks, scanning the gates with a bit of trepidation. No doubt the absences of Astrid had more than a few fae uneasy.

“Do you not wish to wait for the Southern queen?” I murmured.

“Queen Astrid is not a critical piece in my ascension. I have the crown and the alliance. I do not need an aggravating mother watching my every move. So, no. I do not care, nor wonder where she’s gone. In fact, I rather hope she fell into a troll burrow.”

“Gods. Do you care about nothing but yourself?”

“Oh, Malin. Why waste the time?”

He was horrid. My pulse would not cease thudding in my head, but my blood chilled when I caught his eye. The Benevolent was at the forefront of the dais. His wicked smile was a glimpse to the hardened soul inside.

If fate favored us, this would be his last night living.

What was happening outside the gates? Where was Kase now? Was Ari found out in the dungeons, possibly killed? I flicked my eyes to the young Southern princess. She looked nothing like Bracken, but had an innocent loveliness about her.

The nearer we came to the end of the aisle, the more my confidence in our plans, our moves began to wane. Who was I to bring so many people here to die for a land that had shown us no kindness? Who was I to claim I had the brains, the courage, and the grit to take a throne?

Bend, but do not break.

Tova’s gentle plea ran through my head. I drew in a sharp breath through my nose. This was the move. Kase believed in me. So did the guilds. Hells, an entire bleeding kingdom had come to fight our war out of loyalty to a queen they’d never met.

Niall finally stopped the procession at the end of the aisle. He turned toward me. “You’ll place the ring, then move behind me so the officiator can speak.”

Low, near my hip, the holy man slid the ring box into my palm. I hated how my hands trembled when I opened the lid. The glass ring was polished to perfection. The moment the top was removed, the black runes sparked to gold.

“Our people,” the holy man shouted. He turned toward the crowd, shielding me and Niall as I pinched the ring and hovered it near his little finger. “Our king will be crowned with the ring of legends. It will bear proof the blood in his veins has been chosen to lead our land into a new era. Blessed by the Norns with gifts of fate.”

The holy man raised his arms, and murmured prayers lifted up from the folk in the audience, echoing across the courtyard.

Warmth pulsed into my fingertips where I touched the ring. For a moment, I was lost in the strange beauty of it.

“Remember, I will end Kase without remorse,” Niall growled.

When I smiled, I took a bit of satisfaction at his look of surprise. “Of course, you will.”

I slid the ring onto Niall’s finger and stepped back. Satisfied, Niall lifted his hand to reveal the glow of the runes. All around, people gasped, some applauded, others sobbed their gratitude for a restored throne.

None of it lasted long.

Soon the stone walls of the courtyard were filled with shrieks and cries of fear. Ladies clung to their men as they reached for their swords.

Niall watched with horror as every edge of the courtyard, every gate surrounding the Black Palace, was swiftly surrounded by looming walls of darkness, tall as the highest gate around the yard.

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