Chapter CVII: Coronation
Isabella prepared herself for her coronation ceremony. Though resources were scarce in Pallor, they had managed to craft her a beautiful dark green dress, styled in the traditional Allendorian fashion. A majestic cape with gold embroidery completed her attire, adding a regal air to her appearance. Her pregnant belly was now undeniable, and everyone at court knew it was the Dragon King’s child, sparking controversy among the lords; how loyal to Allendor could Isabella truly be if she had not one, but two children sired by their greatest enemy, out of wedlock? In Allendor, concubines and children born outside of marriage were frowned upon, even for royalty. Not even the king was free to pursue multiple women and sire bastards openly, so a queen pregnant with their enemy’s child wasn’t exactly what they expected.
But Isabella was resolute, determined to finally reclaim what was rightfully hers. Alicent styled her hair with care, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place. Once she was ready, they made their way to the throne room. Alicent and Clara were tasked with carrying her cape, ensuring it flowed elegantly behind her. The court was gathered in the grand hall, their red rose brooches gleaming in the candlelight. The throne, once belonging to the Dukes of Pallor, the Lords of the Stone Keep, was now the sole seat of power in Allendor, as Rosehall had fallen to the Dragon King’s domain.
Isabella walked solemnly, her steps measured and graceful, as the members of the court bowed in reverence. The Red Priest stood before the throne, and Isabella’s heart swelled with emotion when she saw her father’s crown beside him. Lord Pallor handed her his sword, and Isabella accepted it, kneeling before the priest and resting her weight on the sword’s handle.
“Princess Isabella of Allendor, daughter of King Aldrus, may he rest in peace,” the priest began, his voice echoing through the hall, “do you swear to protect the kingdom of Allendor, its people, and its lands until the day of your death?”
Isabella’s voice was steady as she answered, “Yes, I swear.”
The priest continued, “Do you swear to carry your ancestors' crown with grace, dignity, and honor, to strive for peace and prosperity for your people until the day you die?”
“I swear,” Isabella replied, her resolve unwavering.
“And do you swear to fight for Allendor’s glory, to command its forces against its enemies, and to stand proud for its name until the very end?” the priest asked, his tone solemn.
“Yes, I swear,” Isabella said, her voice strong and clear.
The priest raised the crown of golden thorns above Isabella’s head, declaring, “I now declare you Her Royal Majesty, Isabella, Queen of Allendor.”
As he lowered the crown onto her head, he added, “You may stand, Queen Isabella.”
Isabella rose to her feet, returning the sword to Lord Pallor, a gesture symbolizing that he remained in command of her army. She then walked toward the throne, taking a deep breath before turning to face the court. As she looked out at the kneeling lords and ladies, a surge of pride filled her chest.
With a steady hand, she sat on the throne, and the hall erupted in a chant of “Long live the queen!” over and over, the voices of her subjects ringing with loyalty and hope.
After the ceremony, Alicent finally found a moment alone with Isabella after the new queen had taken the time to meet and greet nearly everyone in attendance. Alicent addressed her formally, saying, “Your Majesty.”
Isabella laughed softly, shaking her head. “Alicent, you’re my best friend. You can still call me Isabella.”
Alicent smiled, her eyes warm with affection. “I’m happy for you, Queen Isabella. Truly.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Isabella replied, her voice sincere. “I wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for you.”
Alicent waved off the compliment. “It was no big deal.”
“No,” Isabella insisted, her tone firm. “I’m serious. From the day you stood up for me in the harem’s gardens against Dara until now, you’ve been the best, most loyal friend I could ever ask for. You took care of me and helped raise my son. I couldn’t be more grateful.”
Alicent’s gaze drifted to Prince Ikkar, who was running around the hall, his sweet giggles filling the air as he charmed every courtier he encountered. “It’s been the greatest honor for me, Isabella. When I found that old book of Allendorian tales and gave it to you, I knew deep down that our fates were intertwined somehow. I had to come here for you, in Allendor, and see you rise to the throne.”
Isabella’s expression softened with remembrance. “I never forgot what that gesture meant to me… I loved that book so much. But then Dara and the other girls in the harem discovered it and told the king. He accused me of treason and punished me.”
Alicent’s heart ached for her friend. “Well… Fuck the Dragon King,” she said, her voice laced with anger.
Isabella’s eyes widened in shock to words, words that could never be said like that if they were still in the palace. And then a smile tugged at her lips. “Yes… Fuck the Dragon King! Well… I certainly did,” she replied, caressing her growing belly.
Alicent covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. “Fuck the Dragon King!” she repeated, unable to contain her amusement.
Isabella joined in, her laughter light and freeing. “Fuck the Dragon King!” she echoed, “Fuck the Dragon King!”
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