Queen of Jastain (42 page)

“Annova, thank you. I'm honored that you agreed to preside over the ceremony.” Abby squeezed her hands.

“My dear, the trials of the past have merely prepared you for the future task, and the familiar will guide you on this next journey. You must understand you are not alone, nor have you ever been.”

They discussed the details of the coronation and Annova took her leave. Abby quivered with nervous energy. Requesting a small meal in her room, she stayed in her chambers for the remainder of the evening. She would socialize enough tomorrow.

In the morning, she was to ride to the center square in town and walk up the platform. Annova would preside over the crowning. Then, she'd return to the castle to sit on the throne and greet important leaders seeking an audience with her. Finally, after a grand luncheon there would be a celebration and coronation ball where she was expected to...act queenly?

Her body trembled. She wanted to do a good job, and though Avant vowed to remain by her side all day tomorrow, she couldn’t help but feel alone. He’d been less and less available, and though she tried to tell herself he was just busy, she knew it was more than that. Eventually, they’d have to have it out.

Sitting on floor in front of her bedroom windows, she leaned her forehead against the glass and gazed out on the Great Heights. The feeling of invincibility she’d had standing up there so many months ago, overlooking the land, came to her mind.

“You are not alone. I am here with you.” The familiar voice reverberated in the chamber. Chills raced up and down her spine. She looked around the empty room.

“Look with your heart. You are not alone.”

Where have I heard that voice before…?
It was so familiar.

A revelation, so broad it spanned across worlds, swept her over. She'd heard that voice in answer to every prayer, in the spilling of the waterfall, in the blowing of the wind, in the stillness of the night sky crowded with stars—and in her dreams.

It was the same Voice who answered every time she called. The One who never left, who always loved, and even when she was too blind to see, provided. He had always been with her. He never left and with Him, she was never alone.

“Thank you, Lord. Give me the wisdom I need to lead your people to new life.”

The answers came as quickly as the words were spoken, as if they had been waiting before the question was asked. She had all she needed to accomplish this task…or any task. Feeling at peace for the first time in days, she climbed into the massive bed and slept.

Her personal maid woke her from a restful sleep the next morning. Accosted by a mob of well-meaning house staff, she was bathed, dried, and dressed in the fine brocade gown, teal green, of course. The chattering maids ushered her in front of the full-length mirror. Looking at the splendid woman in the reflection was like looking at someone Abby could've only hoped but never believed herself to be. The woman staring back was strong, capable, and prepared; everything a queen should be. She smiled at the sight.

A knock sounded. Avant entered at her greeting, and her heart leapt at the sight of him. A small shuddering sigh blew from her lips. If she looked queenly, he looked every bit the part of her king. He wore black pants and charcoal gray tunic with his royal blue cape. Upon seeing her, he stopped and stared, his face masked in impassivity. Did he approve? She waited.

After a while, he spoke softly, “Abigail…
My Light
, I dare say the halls of this palace have scarcely been graced by such beauty.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” That was all the encouragement she needed. She took his hand. “We'll be a handsome pair... You look magnificent.”

He removed his hand from hers and offered his arm. “Let us go.”

A feeling of rejection swept over her at the insignificant gesture. She told herself it was her stupid imagination getting the best of her. Instead, she took the arm he offered and let him lead her downstairs to the waiting carriage. Thousands lined the streets, and the royal coach could barely pass through the crowd. Children threw flowers on the road and greeted her as she passed. She waved fondly out the window.

Bright colors decorated the square with flags flying from every building. At least ten thousand people were crowded into the plaza, every one dressed in their best and brightest.

Avant gracefully stepped from the carriage and held out his hand to help her descend. When she stepped down, the crowd erupted like fans at a football game. She half expected the Aggie Fight Song to play.

A four-tiered platform sat in the middle of the square. Larger than Ventium Village, buildings surrounded the city center for long blocks, stretching all the way to the harbor. The streets were crammed with people, but a hush settled over them in anticipation of the coronation. Soldiers dressed in their finest uniforms stood at attention along a red carpet that led from the carriage to the dais. In fact, the military presence was almost as overwhelming as the crowd of onlookers. Petra stood at the end of the line with several of the elders and above them, on the platform, Annova waited, dressed in a golden gown. A company of musicians sat behind her. As the door of the carriage opened, they began to play. Avant escorted her to the platform, where she ascended to the step next to the top. Annova stepped to the front of the dais and said a few words to the crowd. She then began the Dictum of Coronation spoken by every ruler in the history of the Kingdom.

Annova said, “Raise your right hand. Thou shall keep full peace and accord in the Light for the sake of the people and the prophets.”

Abby raised her hand and answered, “I shall.”

“Thou shall keep in all these domains righteousness and discretion with mercy and truth.”

“I shall.”

“Grant thou all rightful laws and customs to be upheld and that thou wilt defend and strengthen them to the Light, to the might and powers which it shall choose.”

“I shall grant and defend them.” When Annova took the Crown from a nearby pedestal, Abby knelt.

“I crown you Her Royal Majesty Abigail, Sovereign Queen, and Supreme Ruler of the Lands of Jastain, the New Kingdom of Light.” Annova placed the Crown upon Abigail’s head.

Light in every color burst from the golden circlet and shone in every direction. She turned to face the crowd. A bolt of current coursed through her. Individual beams of light shone from each person in the crowd. Her eyes opened in revelation: the Light was in each one of these people, and they all had destinies to fulfill. For the first time in over forty years, the sun broke through the haze of the City of Light and glowed down on the crowd. The people bowed in reverence to the Stone of Light, and Abby knelt with them.

After a long moment of silence, Annova rose and signaled to the musicians. The air filled with music. Avant stepped up on the dais and lifted Abby from her knees amidst cheers from the crowd.

* * * *

Avant took Abigail’s hand and led her back to the carriage. The shock of her warm fingers against him shot desire straight up his arm. He smiled when she wiped the perspiration from her brow like she'd just climbed a mountain trail. He handed her a handkerchief as he helped her up into the carriage, the memory of their training sessions firmly seated in his mind. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, causing an ache deep in his chest.

She patted the silk square over her damp face. “Did I do okay? The sun came out, and it got really hot in this dress.”

He smiled, tamping down the thought of how quickly he could divest her of the offending garment. “Your Majesty, the ceremony was a sight for the ages, and I have never been more proud or in awe of you.”

Her eyes shone with love, and he dropped his gaze, unable to conceal his own emotion in her openness. It wouldn’t do to encourage her feelings. Not now.

She reached up to feel the weight of the circle on her head. The golden curls of her hair glittered with the gold of the Crown as if her head was where the royal diadem had always belonged. The streets filled with people cheering and clapping. Abigail looked out the carriage windows. She waved, sending blessings and throwing gold coins as she passed.

It was a custom Galwyn must have shared with her. He, himself, had forgotten it until that moment. Avant tilted his head to her. “How did you know to do that?”

“It seemed appropriate. Was that right?”

Avant stared and nodded slowly.

It seemed she knew exactly which steps to make, hands to take, words to use. Endeared to all who sought audience with her, she found favor in their eyes. Avant stood in the background and watched her emerge like the first flower of Spring. The Light had brought forth its Seed and she bloomed in glory. The grace of heaven poured over her in wisdom and love.

They made their way to the pronouncement ceremony where the royal court and various regents presented their allegiance. Several times she glanced back, searching for him only to find his gaze locked on her in wonder and amazement. He smiled tightly, watching with such a tangle of emotion he wondered how he’d make it through the day.

Where was he to fit in her life now? He didn’t even know where he fit in his own life. The dull ache in his chest became a sharp pain in his soul.

By the Light’s mercy, the luncheon flew. Avant escorted Abigail to her chamber and bowed to leave so that she could ready herself for the coming ball.

She grabbed his arm, the touch of her hand igniting acute desire for her. “Please stay with me. I've missed you so much.”

His arms shook with the effort to resist wrapping her in his embrace. He removed her hand and stepped inside her rooms, trying to regain control of his senses. “As it pleases, Your Majesty, but only for a moment.”

“I was so nervous.” She narrowed her eyes in disapproval. “You just had to have the train of this dress ten feet behind me, didn’t you?”

“But of course. It was the final test.” He smiled roguishly. He’d wanted her subjects to see her in all her glory. That’s why he’d had that dress designed. Now, all he could think of was her out of the dress. His gaze raked her body, and hot need flooded and thickened in his veins.

She smiled and glanced sideways at him as if she knew his thoughts. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. They sat and talked about the ceremony. He used his Implanting to show her a picture of it from his perspective, a sight to behold.

Every time she moved closer to him, he rose and paced to the window. Her frustration was evidenced by the clip in her voice. He couldn’t fault the Light for choosing her as queen. He himself would’ve chosen her as his queen, but she needed to rule her kingdom, and in time, find a worthy consort to share in that responsibility. Bile rose in his mouth. Avant knew he didn’t deserve her, but he would be damned to the Darkness if he watched her find someone else. He stared unseeing over the Great High Places. There was only one alternative—he must leave.

Lyndsea, Chad, and Petra joined them in the chamber and for a brief moment, it was like the quiet peacefulness of their days on the fief. Avant held Baby Abigail while Lyndsea helped Abigail change into her ball gown.

Her evening dress of deep crimson sparkled with gold embroidery, the color causing her eyes to turn a deep blue and her hair to shine like spun silk. His heart pounded in his chest as it had the night of the harvest festival when they’d danced. He swallowed his passion and took her arm, leading her to the Coronation Ball.

Tall gilded chairs with bright crimson cushions lined the walls of the long, narrow room. The lords and ladies of the court milled in a din of conversing voices. After so long an absence, he marveled at the grandeur of courtly life. A white marble floor and red carpet led up to a dais where the throne sat. Dark oil paintings of former rulers adorned the stone walls and gave a sense of history, majesty, and power to the Great Hall.

Upon the entrance of the queen, all the nobles and the palace guard bowed. Abigail gestured for them to rise. He led her down the aisle, and she took a seat on her throne at the front of the room.

A large stained-glass window resided over her head. Set high on the wall over the throne, it depicted the coronation of the first ruler of Jastain. The brightly hued glass cast rays of color across the floor.

The celebrations commenced with a song from the court musicians, and the guests chattered. Abigail danced numerous dances with Petra. Jealousy burned bitterly in his throat. Avant had to continually remind himself she didn’t belong to him.

The formalities of the evening ended with entertaining spectacles performed for the queen’s benefit. Guests in the palace and all over the kingdom danced and celebrated well into the night. Petra finally left Abigail’s side and kept busy, dancing with the regents’ and stewards’ beautiful daughters.

One particularly lovely young girl caught Abigail’s eye. She leaned over to Avant and asked, “Who is that young lady?”

“That, Your Majesty, is the Lady Brislyn of Komissa in the southern provinces.”

“She is quite beautiful.”

“Indeed.” Boldly, he caught her gaze. “There is an abundance of beauty here this night.”

For the first time that evening, he allowed his emotion to reflect in his face, and smiled when he noticed she couldn't gather her breath.

Later as the celebration continued, he caught her in a barely concealed yawn. The heaviness of her eyes filled him with compassion. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Your obligation is fulfilled for the evening. You may leave when you wish.”

A shiver ran visibly through her, but she nodded. Taking a last liberty, he breathed in her strawberry scent before leading her to her room.

He reached his arm around her to open her chamber door, his fingers brushing against her back. A blush covered her cheeks. “Can you come in for a moment?”

His breath caught in his throat. His hands ached to touch her. His senses screamed for her. He knew he should leave immediately, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. “Only for a moment.” He walked her to the sofa but didn't sit. That would be a mistake. Every nerve in his body sang with need, the need to hold her, kiss her, claim her as his, but that was…impossible.