The coronation

James walked down the purple rug the length of the throne room. A dense sea faces watched his every step. James had seen most of these people before, but none of them had ever looked at him like this. He had always just been the spare. The black sheep of the family. He had spent his life hunting, drinking, riding (and yes fucking) his way through life.

The Royal court had been his home as a child of course, but he had spent less and less time there as the years went by. His eyes fell on Kate; she bowed her head and fell into a curtsey as you walked past. James remembered when she was just a little girl walking behind her father Duke Linkshire. Now her raven black curls flowed over the body of a beautiful young woman wearing a ruby red dress. James wondered if he had spent too much time seducing peasant girls and had neglected the nobility. He heard Kate whisper “My king” softly.

She was hardly the only beautiful face in the room. There was lady Sasha Grey; her silvery blonde hair was tied back in a tight bun with a a few delicate locks framing her perfectly angular face. Her dress was creamy white with yellow sleeves. James got a flash of cool grey eyes that seemed to appraise him. She was still younger than he was at only 19, but since her father had been battle last year, she had been left as the sole heir to the barony of Denim.

Farther on, James pasted the flame colored locks of Emma of Scalsbourgh. “Good luck, your majesty!” She said, as she clasped her hands together over her large bosom. Her earnest green eyes matched her emerald green dress. James saw that she had tears on her face; she wasn’t the only one. Many in the large throne room had obviously been crying since the **** of the king and heir. James smiled and thanked her, but when he looked up from the short girl he met the eyes of all three of her grim looking brothers. He knew well that Lady Emma never went anywhere without an brother to protect her virtue. Otherwise he would have tried to conquer her before.

James shared a sad smile with Lady Katherine as he reached the end of the line. Her light brown hair was strung with a diamonds as was her dark blue dress. She and James had known each other well as children even though she had been several years younger. Beside her stood her father. Lord Weimer had been the most powerful of his father’s vassals. My vassals now I suppose. Weimer bowed respectfully to James as he past, but he noticed a glint of something besides reverence in the lord’s eyes. He and James' father had a bad falling out some years early, and no one knew why.

James slowly climbed the marble steps to the throne where a much smaller group stood. His mother Serena stood to his left with his sister Sarah. His heart twisted as he looked at Sarah. She had obviously been crying even more than Katherine. She had just come of age a few days earlier, and by rights should still be celebrating. James remembered the party well--Sarah’s beautiful golden curls spinning while she danced. He longed to reach and comfort her, but now was not the time.

The royal chancellor, Lord Halifax, stood to his left with Lewis Selthried. Lewis had always been your father’s closest advisor. He was the one who made the kingdom run. Next to him was the bishop and a alter boy carrying the crown and scepter. The last on the right was James’ friend Lancel; his hand on the hilt of his sword and eyes patrolling the crowded room.

James took the last few steps to the throne. It was made of dark gleaming oak wood. The arms and back were covered in ornate carvings of mythical beasts and brave armies. The throne of Mercia had been made by the legendary founder of your house over three hundred years ago. The seat felt cold and uncomfortable, but you didn’t dare let that show with over two hundred people watching.

The bishop approached him and James swore the ancient oath of kinds. The golden scepter was handed to him, and the rose gold crown was placed on his head. He was now king of Mercia. Everyone in the throne room cheered his name, but James felt a deep sense of unease.

What now?