Chapter 296: Long Live The Queen

“In the name of the Crown and the Light of the Realm,” the presiding official’s voice rang clear, amplified by a spell, “we gather on this blessed day to witness the ascension of Her Royal Highness, Princess Ines Pendragon, to the throne of Camelot.”

The words carried across the hall, reverberating against the walls and pillars.

“By the will of her lineage, by the oath of the nobles, and by the grace of the kingdom, we present to you the heir of King Cillian Pendragon, protector of the realm, defender of humanity, and sovereign of the people.”

He paused, lowering his staff. “Make way for the procession.”

A solemn roll of drums filled the air. The heavy double doors at the far end of the hall swung open, light spilling in through the entrance.

The royal procession entered.

First came the heralds, carrying banners bearing the sigil of the royal house. Behind them walked the high officials and representatives of the great houses, each in ceremonial dress.

Among them, Noah spotted familiar faces like High Magus Edric in deep red robes, and beside him, First Premier Thomas Ramsay, a pleasant smile on his face.

And then, at the center of the procession, walked Princess Ines.

She wore a gown of white silk and golden thread, light cascading across the fabric like ripples of water.

The circlet she wore caught the sunlight from the stained-glass windows, its faint gleam resting against her golden hair.

Every head bowed as she passed. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Noah’s eyes followed her as she approached the dais. There was no hesitation in her step, and no trace of the grief she must still carry for her father.

She moved with quiet strength, every inch the queen she was about to become.

The drums quieted.

The presiding official raised his hands once more, addressing the gathered crowd.

“Behold Ines Pendragon,” he proclaimed, “rightful heir to the throne of Camelot and chosen guardian of her people.”

Applause rippled softly through the hall, respectful rather than jubilant. When silence returned, the official turned towards Ines, his voice solemn.

“Your Highness, before the eyes of this assembly, before the spirits of your forebears, and before the Light of the Realm, you are called to take the Oath of the Crown.”

Ines inclined her head, her voice steady as she repeated the words spoken by countless rulers before her.

“I, Ines Pendragon, do solemnly swear to rule with wisdom and with justice, to defend the people and the realm, and to uphold the laws and traditions of Camelot.”

“I shall serve my people with honor, protect the weak, and guard the peace of the land, until the end of my days.”

Her voice echoed around the hall, and in that moment, Noah understood why this place had been chosen for the coronation. Every sound seemed to echo in a grand way.

When Ines finished her oath, the presiding official nodded deeply.

“Let it be recorded,” he said, “that Ines Pendragon has taken the Oath of the Crown.”

He stepped aside, and High Magus Edric came forward, his red robe flowing behind him.

He bowed deeply before Ines, then spoke, his tone reverent.

“By the power vested in me as High Magus of Camelot, I present to you the symbols of your sovereignty.”

An attendant stepped forward, carrying a folded mantle of royal blue. Edric took it and placed it gently over Ines’s shoulders.

“This mantle,” he said, “represents the weight of duty you now bear. The protection and burden of the realm itself.”

He turned and took up the next item from the attendant, a scepter of gold and silver, adorned with gemstones that shimmered faintly with magic.

“This scepter,” he said, placing it in her right hand, “is the symbol of your rule, a reminder that true authority lies not in command, but in service.”

Finally, Edric turned towards the velvet cushion upon which rested the crown, a circlet of pure gold shaped like intertwined dragons, each eye set with a sapphire that glowed faintly with light.

The hall fell completely silent as he lifted it.

“This crown,” he said, his voice deep and clear, “is the seal of your kingship, binding you to the people, the land, and the legacy of the Pendragon line.”

He stepped closer, and with both hands, lowered the crown onto Ines’s head.

The moment the crown touched her hair, the hall erupted in sound.

Cheers filled the air, echoing off every wall. The musicians struck up a triumphant hymn, horns and drums joining in harmony.

Voices rose as one, the cry swelling like a wave.

“Long live the Queen! Long live Queen Ines Pendragon!”

Noah watched silently, his expression neutral. Even he had to admit that the sight was breathtaking.

The young woman who had once been a young princess was now a radiant queen, standing before a kingdom ready to follow her.

When the cheers faded, attendants guided her to the throne atop the dais.

Ines turned, moving with regal grace, and seated herself upon it.

Then came the final rite, fealty.

High Magus Edric stepped forward first, kneeling before her.

“I, Edric of the Circle, swear fealty to Her Majesty, Queen Ines Pendragon. My life, my magic, and my service are hers to command.”

Ines touched the air gently in acknowledgment. “Rise, Edric.”

Next came Thomas Ramsay.

The First Premier approached, bowing deeply before sinking to one knee. His voice was smooth and reverent, but his eyes, Noah noticed, remained cold.

“I, Thomas Ramsay, swear my loyalty to the crown and to the sovereign of Camelot.”

She nodded, granting him leave to stand.

Then, one by one, the high-ranking nobles and officials came forward, kneeling before their new queen, their oaths binding them to her rule.

When the last of the nobles had sworn their oaths, the presiding official dismissed the assembly.

The sound of shifting chairs and rustling fabric filled the hall as everyone rose to their feet.

Queen Ines stood, the crown gleaming under the light. She descended the dais with grace, her procession of attendants and guards forming around her.

As she passed, the nobles bowed deeply. Then she swept through the great doors, disappearing down the corridor beyond.

The coronation had ended. Now, the feast would begin.

Noah joined the flow of guests moving towards the banquet hall, his thoughts distant, half on the ceremony and half elsewhere.

But before he could reach the doors, a palace attendant stepped into his path and bowed.

“Sir Noah Webb,” the man said formally. “Her Majesty requests your presence.”

Noah blinked once, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“The Queen?”

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