He stares impassively out at the crowd that roars for me, not him. His lips are thin, his eyes sunken. The broadcast where Gal knelt to Iral was widespread, but this is historic. Every empire, every system, every planet, every person will see what he does here today, and it will forever be remembered as the first public act of the Umber heir.
As the drums fade and General Iral’s sonorous voice begins the ceremony, Gal glances over at me, and for a moment I swear he’s about to speak. I lean forward to catch his words over the crowd’s drone.
But he says nothing and wrenches his gaze away.
When Iral’s speech is finished, I turn to face Gal again. He turns to face me.
I could kneel—should kneel, to spare him the humiliation. But on this day, there’s a message to be sent. Archon will never bow to Umber again. So I keep my back straight and my head held high, forcing Gal to reach up. Forcing him to look me in the eye as he does it.
The crowd screams my name—Ettian emp-Archon, long may he reign.
And he crowns me.