The Debt Of Fate

Chapter 344: Celebration

The royal city fell into a strange silence. No one was sure what would come next.

Then the palace bells began to ring.

It was time.

"Prince Ernest is going to be crowned today. I am going to the grand cathedral to witness the king’s coronation," someone said to a friend.

Irrespective of what would happen in the future, witnessing a king’s coronation was important.

"Yes, Prince Ernest is the one chosen by God. His reign will definitely bring blessings," someone in the crowd shouted.

Soon people began to repeat the words, and in no time everyone on the street believed it.

More and more people came out of their houses to witness the scene.

Inside the grand cathedral, gold cloth hung from the high walls. Long candles burned brightly. Nobles who had chosen to stay stood in their finest clothes. Soldiers lined both sides of the hall in shining armor.

Ernest walked slowly down the center aisle.

He wore deep red robes trimmed with gold. His face was calm, though his eyes were serious.

Every step echoed.

At the front of the hall stood the High Priest, dressed in white and gold robes. In his hands rested the royal crown.

The hall fell silent.

The High Priest lifted his voice.

"Today, before heaven and before the people, we crown a new king."

Ernest knelt.

The High Priest placed a hand on his head and spoke the sacred words of blessing.

"May you rule with strength. May you protect this kingdom. May your enemies fall before you."

Then, slowly, he lifted the crown.

For a second, the entire hall held its breath.

The crown was placed upon Ernest’s head.

"Rise, King Ernest," the High Priest declared.

Ernest stood.

A loud cheer filled the hall.

"Long live the king!"

"Long live King Ernest!"

The sound grew stronger.

Outside, the bells rang again.

The cheers slowly softened.

The High Priest lifted his hand again.

"The king does not stand alone," he said.

All eyes turned as Queen Anastasia stepped forward.

She wore a silver gown that shone under the candlelight. A long veil trailed behind her. Her face was calm, though her eyes showed quiet strength.

She stopped before the High Priest and knelt beside her husband.

The hall grew silent once more.

The High Priest spoke gently.

"Will you stand beside your king in peace and in war?"

"I will," Anastasia answered clearly.

He lifted a smaller crown made with fine jewels and delicate gold.

"May you guide this kingdom with wisdom and grace."

He placed the crown upon her head.

"Rise, Queen Anastasia."

She stood beside King Ernest.

The hall echoed again.

"Long live the Queen!"

Then two young boys were carried forward and blessed by the priest.

The family turned and faced the people, who once more bowed.

Then Ernest walked out of the hall. A carriage was already waiting.

The royal family stepped inside and began their journey to the royal palace. The people outside bowed as the carriage passed by.

"Long live the king!"

"Long live the Queen!"

When Ernest arrived at the palace, he declared a three-day feast to celebrate. Many of the nobles wanted to complain, but he told them that a feast after a coronation was custom.

Some agreed with him; others felt he was acting far too arrogantly.

Those lords and nobles who had left the royal city, upon hearing that Ernest had declared a feast instead of planning for war, immediately thanked God that they had fled the city.

They felt that after winning so many wars, Ernest had become arrogant. Being a king and being a general were two different things.

Far away in the Seventh Region, when Edward heard the news, he was angry.

In truth, the help he got from the southern kings was not enough to march to the royal city.

He had deliberately exaggerated, hoping to stop the coronation. But Ernest had not paid him any mind.

He was still hoping to get the support of the Lord of the Dark Sea. The man had a strong hold there, and only with his full support would Edward be confident enough to march back to the royal city.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Your Majesty, we have found the location of the Steward of the Lord. He arrived in the Seventh Region today," the lord standing outside announced.

His voice sounded quite happy.

Edward immediately stood up. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. It is said that once you meet this Steward, his words represent the Lord’s words. As long as you are able to convince him, getting weapons will not be a problem," the lord said confidently.

"Then what are you waiting for? Invite the Steward over," Edward instructed.

"Your Majesty, it is not simple to invite this Steward..." The lord lowered his voice. "It is best if we send a card and you visit him yourself," the lord advised.

When Edward heard this, he became very angry. He could not believe he had to visit a steward. As a king, the Lord of the Dark Sea had ignored his invitation many times, yet now he had to visit a mere steward.

Edward was furious.

He walked back and forth across the room.

"A king," he said bitterly, "and I must go to a steward."

But anger could not change his situation.

He needed weapons.

He needed ships.

And he needed the full support of the Lord of the Dark Sea.

No matter how unwilling he was, Edward ordered a meeting card to be prepared.

It was written in formal words and sealed with his royal mark.

The card was sent that same night.

The next morning, a reply came.

The Steward agreed to meet him the following day.

Several lords from the Seventh Region quickly offered to follow Edward. This was an opportunity to meet the Steward, who usually rejected most meeting invitations.

"If the Lord of the Dark Sea supports you," one of them said, "then victory will be certain."

Edward nodded. The best weapons were made by the Lord of the Dark Sea. His ships were strong and trusted to sail even in bad storms.

The next day, Edward dressed in his finest robe and rode to the harbor estate where the Steward was staying.

The sea wind was strong. Ships filled the port. Armed men stood guard everywhere.

They were led into a large hall overlooking the water.

The Steward sat calmly at a long table.

He was not dressed like a noble, yet his presence was steady and confident.

He stood up when King Edward entered with his nobles.

"King Edward," he said respectfully.

Edward gave a short nod and took a seat.

He waited for everyone to be seated and for tea to be served before he spoke.

"I will speak directly," Edward said. "I need weapons, ships, and supplies."

The Steward listened without expression.

"We can sell weapons. Just tell us how many you want and what type. As for supplies, do you want us to provide them only, or do we also need to transport them?" the Steward asked.

Edward felt relieved seeing that the Steward was acting respectfully.

"It would be best if you handle the transportation. I am trying to regain my throne. Manpower is not enough."

"Very well," the Steward smiled. "But payment must be made before delivery," he continued.

Edward’s face darkened.

"I know your principle, but I want you to make an exception. I will pay after I reclaim my throne—fifty percent more than its price," he said.

The Steward shook his head slowly.

"There is no guarantee who will win this war," he said calmly. "We do business only with paying customers."

The room grew quiet.

Edward clenched his jaw. He never thought a day would come when he would have to negotiate with a steward.

"The throne is mine. I will reclaim it. You do not have to question my victory," he almost snapped.

"I question nothing," the Steward answered calmly. He was neither scared nor angry. "I only protect my master’s interests."

Edward took a slow breath. He wanted to threaten him, but the lord at his side whispered in his ear.

"Your Majesty, without weapons, how can we win a war? If we make the weapons ourselves, it will take too much time. The longer Ernest sits on the throne, the harder it will be to take it back."

Edward heard those words, and reality struck him hard. He then changed his tone.

"If the Lord of the Dark Sea supports me fully," Edward said, "I will grant him an official noble title within the kingdom."

The Steward’s eyes lifted slightly.

"Tax reductions. Land. Protection under royal law," Edward offered.

The lords with him nodded in agreement.

"These benefits will be written and sealed," Edward added firmly.

The Steward remained silent for a moment.

"The offer is generous," he said at last. "I will send your words to my master."

Edward’s patience was thin.

"I expect a favorable answer."

The Steward gave a polite smile.

"My master favors profit."

"You do what you must. If your master agrees, you will also receive a reward after I take over the throne," Edward declared confidently.