Luna of the Beastly Lycan King

Chapter 13. Alpha King

☉DANIKA

I got back into the palace just before the ceremony began. The streets were a riotous burst of color and sounds, but as much as I loved the air that the festivities brought, I was also careful not to get swallowed up by this crowd that had suddenly arrived and exploded the population of Cynthros to more than twice what was normal.

Also, a whizzing thing had exploded behind my ear and after the ringing stopped, I decided that perhaps I was better suited to the comfort and peace that the walls of the palace provided. No matter how snotty those people of nobility got.

Everyone was still standing when I entered, but the din of conversation had quieted down somewhat. I strode back up the stairs and watched from above, for the events that would unfold.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the court!” a trumpeting voice suddenly announced. All conversation in the room ceased immediately and the sound of shuffling crescendoed as everyone turned to the origin of the voice.

There, at the main entrance of the hall, stood the announcer, his livery outstanding, and his face held up, beaming as he boomed again.

“The Moon Priestess!”

Today, she was attired in all-white, gossamer-light material that hung suspended on the wind as she moved. Her blood-red lips were just as I remembered them the last time she had been in the palace for the Selu’myr Enthroned. Her hands were linked over the other, and her head was bowed. She moved slowly, wraith-like. I heard not a sound of her movement or the words she muttered under her breath.

My ears strained to catch a whisper of the woman that chanted under her breath as she floated into view.

The crowd bowed as she moved, as if afraid to look her in the face. Men and women dressed like her, in sparse fabric that revealed much skin thundered in after her. These ones, I could hear. The men held staffs in their hands and the females contorted themselves in ways I would never have thought possible.

She stood in the center of the hall, her hood covering more than half of her face so that the only thing that anybody could see was the blood red of her lips and the line that divided it from the bridge of her nose.

Then the movement stopped. The announcer cleared his throat again.

“Ardghal Finarfen Evigheden! Of House Tyrune!”

Everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the entrance where silhouetted in the dazzling light of day, he stepped out.

Andras and Fergal flanked him on either side, Andras in ceremonial armor that made clanking noises as he moved; Fergal with a hand on his sword.

It was the most regal thing I had ever seen. Finarfen was clothed in a simple all-white, free-flowing tunic, but draped upon him was a cloak of gold. A cloak so heavy, so timeless that it was revered through all of Cynthros. He had told me the story of the cloak before because everyone in Cynthros was mandated to know the story.

His father had worn that cloak. And the king before him, and the king before him…

The crowd gathered at the floor of the split neatly in two as if cleaved. The hush that fell over the hall was deep—louder than any silence I had ever heard. Finarfen walked straight to the Moon priestess who was now flanked by members of the council. Beyond the half-circle comprising of the Moon Priestess and her cohort, and the members of the council, the throne stood imperiously, bathed in light.

“Finarfen, son of House Tyrune,” the Moon Priestess began, “you stand before the one who bears no name in service of the Goddess of the moon who presides over everything in this realm. Declare yourself.”

There was no sound in the hall. As I thought about it, I realized that there was no sound outside, either. Everyone waited with bated breath. Then Finarfen spoke, and his voice was loud and strong, and clear.

Like the breaking of a new dawn.​

“I am Ardghal Finarfen Evigheden, heir of House Tyrune, son of my father, Tyrinius At’Lok Evigheden, and his fathers before him, child of Cynthros. I have battled for my land, for my honor, for my blood, and I have come out victorious. And now I come to claim my crown. I ask now that you grant me this right so that I might lead my brothers and sisters, my family, and people into a new light. And may the dawn of Cynthros shine bright through the ages.”

A resonant thrum thudded through the hall as the men who had come in with the moon priestess slammed their staffs into the ground. The women began a slow chanting chorus that filled the room.

“Kneel before me then, and accept this bequest.”

Finarfen sunk low on one knee. Andras and Fergal stood a distance away, hands tightened on swords. A member of the council brought forth the crown on a pillowed cushion. The Moon Priestess received the crown and held it over Finarfen’s head. She turned to the crowd as she said loudly, “Behold, Cynthros! Your protector!”

A chorus of assent thundered through the hall.

“King of Cynthros and diviner of the realm—“

He disrobed himself of his tunic with a shrug of his powerful shoulders. Fergal and Andras stepped toward him, holding a golden breastplate that they fitted onto him.

“—Ruler of the land and lord over the people, the beasts and the trees—”

They threw the cloak back over him.

“First of his name, Alpha of Cynthros and commander of the troops, forces…”

The Moon Priestess placed the crown on his head. Immediately, we fell on our knees, heads bowed.

“Rise Ardghal Finarfen Evigheden.”

The sound of trumpeting blasted through the halls and outside. The pronouncements were done. We all looked up as the Moon Priestess stepped out of the way. The path to the throne was open. Finarfen began his walk.

The announcer bellowed, “Cynthros, your king and Alpha—”

“King Ardghal Finarfen Evigheden, Alpha King of Cynthros!”

Finarfen’s footfalls were the only audible thing in the hall. He walked up a short flight of stairs. His aura was regal. Then we fell silent again.

The Moon priestess gave a small bow and began to dance with the very same contorted movements that her people earlier had used. Laughter spilled from her lips and the rhythmic thudding of staffs prevailed. Then everything quieted and the Moon priestess bowed once more.

Finarfen sat on the throne, crown gleaming on his beautiful head of hair. Our eyes met and I shivered inwardly. He was no longer a prince or just Alpha. He was now the single most powerful person in all of Cynthros. He was king and alpha.

“Presiding.” He boomed across the hall.

“ALL HAIL!”

Everyone jumped to their feet.

They threw their hands into the air and allowed their faces to shift as they roared, “HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!”

Finarfen joined their roar, his face shifting too, elongating, fangs showing… I joined them, roaring as loud as I could. But that was as much as I could participate in the coronation ceremony. The night was going to be very long and the partying would outlast the week. More than a few frivolities were bound to happen.

I chuckled silently as the streets outside echoed the shouts. Finarfen was king. At long last.

☆☆☆

One day later and I could still hear the sounds of the festivities. When all this was over and done, I doubted if I would ever be able to erase the sounds from my ears. So much was going on.

Trays of food heaped until almost overflowing were being paraded around the halls and outside in the courtyard since the previous day when Finarfen had been crowned king. Maids and attendants still moved around with barrels of wine, mead, and so many other local brews that normally never saw the light of the day.

I had seen more than half of the people of the court who were usually most dignified as they engaged in fearsome drinking bouts, tearing away at whole sides of meat like they had been starved their entire lives. The palace had many rooms but not many people seemed to care as they openly mated with each other (most of whom were not aware of who the other was, I was sure) until the hall was one big rowdy affair.

Outside was no better. Finarfen had long since retired to his chambers, but seeing how he had been swamped with officials and regents, ambassadors and people in power from other packs, not to mention the council… I figured that it had been best to let him rest on the coronation day.

But it was one day after the coronation and I still had not seen him. I made my way to his chambers. I had in hand a bottle of hand-pressed wine that I was certain that he was going to appreciate. I took along a tray of food—things that he loved and that I was sure would strengthen him—just in case.

But I was stopped by a guard in the hallway who would not even let me in the entrance of Finarfen’s chambers.

“The king has decreed that no one is to enter this chamber unless he personally gives the order.”

I glared at the guard.