Sara Larson - Defy

Did everyone know I had rejected Damian? I’d hoped it would have been something private.

“What I’m trying to say is that I know you love him. But maybe with time, things will change. Maybe someday, you’ll feel like you could give me a chance. I’ll always be waiting and hoping for that day.”

I stared up at him, my stomach in knots. “I can’t do this right now, Rylan. I’m sorry. I did tell Damian no, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I know. I won’t bring it up again. I just wanted you to know.” He finally dropped his arms and stepped back.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing nerves, my trembling hands.

“We should go,” Rylan said. “You don’t want to miss the coronation.”

I looked at him for a moment longer and then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

THE CORONATION WAS being held in the grand ballroom. When Rylan and I walked in, my heart skipped a beat. It was magnificent. Bowers of flowers adorned the walls and the beams high above us, cascading down in brilliant shades of purple, white, and fuchsia. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling held thousands of candles that were already lit in preparation for the coming of night, and the afternoon sun filled the room with golden light. The ballroom was packed with noblemen and soldiers, women and children — as many as could fit in the pews that had been set up, lining both sides of the room. The bright and glittering tones of jewels and silks mingled with freshly cleaned and pressed cotton.

The aisle down the middle of the room had a thick red carpet rolled out, leading all the way up to the ornate throne where King Hector used to sit and watch his lavish parties. Standing next to the throne was a tall man with olive skin and dark hair liberally laced with gray. He wore a beautiful crown of gold, inlaid with diamonds and rubies.

Rylan and I walked forward and bowed to King Osgand of Blevon. Damian’s great-uncle.

“You are the one who defeated Iker, I believe?” he asked when I had risen.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied.

“We all owe you a very large debt of gratitude.” King Osgand’s eyes were kind, but power exuded from him in a palpable wave. I wondered if he, too, was a sorcerer, or if this was just what decades of being a king — a good king — did to a man.

I bowed to him again, not sure of what to say. And then Rylan and I moved to join the rest of the guard, who stood in a row to the right of the throne. On the left side stood a line of men dressed in the colors of Blevon — King Osgand’s guard, I assumed.

As I took my place next to Deron, I remembered that I wasn’t the only one who had been left scarred by Iker and King Hector. Deron looked down at me, his eyes still full of sorrow, the scar on his face a vivid reminder of what he’d been through as well. Next to Rylan, the rest of the guard stood at attention, but when they saw me, they nodded or smiled. Every one of them — Deron, Jerrod, Asher, Mateo — bore the same scars on their faces. I couldn’t believe that the six of us were all who remained of the prince’s guard.

So much loss, so much death.

I stood tall, my hand on the hilt of my sword, and gazed out across the crowd. Many of them stared at me, whispering to one another. I wondered what they said — did they speak of my victory or my scars or my rejection of the king?

Then I caught sight of Kalen in the crowd, gripping her older brother’s hand yet again, just as she’d done the first time I’d seen her. Only this time, she was smiling and so was he. And I realized I didn’t care what the people of Antion were saying — whether they were judging me or not. This was why we had all sacrificed so much — to save innocent lives, like hers, from the horrors of King Hector’s rule.

Lisbet sat in the front row, with Jax next to her. When I looked at her, she smiled at me and nodded. I knew what she was thinking, and I pulled back my shoulders and stood a little taller.

A trumpet sounded and the crowd instantly went quiet.

“All rise for Damian, king of Antion!”

Everyone stood as one and turned to face the back of the room. When I saw him standing there, wearing the rich scarlet robes of the king of Antion, the collar of office reflecting the sunlight, my heart stopped. He was overwhelmingly beautiful. He slowly walked forward, his expression composed. But his eyes were on mine the whole time. My pulse began to race.

When he stood before the throne and King Osgand, he finally looked away, turning his gaze up to his great-uncle.

“People of Antion,” King Osgand spoke, his deep voice carrying across the ballroom. “This is a remarkable day — a day of celebration. Today is a day that you will speak of to your children, and your children will tell their children. It is the day that Antion rises from the dust and blood of her past and steps forward into a future of peace and prosperity!” He paused as the crowd erupted into cheers. My heart swelled as I watched Damian standing before King Osgand.

“You do not know your king yet, not as I know him. But he is a good man — just and true. He will lead Antion with a firm but gentle hand. No longer will your women and children live in fear.”

There was more cheering as King Osgand reached down to the pedestal beside him, where the crown of Antion sat. He lifted it with both hands high into the air.

“Damian, former prince of Antion, kneel,” he intoned.

A hush of anticipation fell upon the crowd as Damian dropped to one knee. Slowly, King Osgand lowered the crown until it hovered just above Damian’s dark hair. “Do you, Damian of Antion, swear in front of these witnesses that you will do all in your power to lead, govern, and protect your people with justice and fairness?”

“I swear it,” Damian responded.

“So it shall be.” King Osgand placed the crown on Damian’s head. “I give you Damian, king of Antion! Hail, King Damian, long live the king!”

Damian stood as the crowd repeated the cry, staring up at King Osgand for a moment, and then turned to look out over his people.

All of the guards pulled out their swords, lifting them into the air in salute to the new king.

“My people,” Damian began, his voice sending a shiver through me. “Today marks the first day of a new era for Antion. An era of peace, starting with a renewed alliance with Blevon. As I have just sworn before you, I will do all in my power to lead you with fairness.” He paused and turned to look straight at me. “This day would not have been possible without the help of many people who believed in me and aided me along the way. But above all, we owe our new freedom to one person.”

My eyes widened when I realized what he was about to do.

“All hail, Alexa Hollen!” he cried out.

There were gasps from the crowd as jaws dropped and hands flew to mouths. But when he shouted it again, his people eventually joined with him.

“All hail, Alexa Hollen!”

“All hail, Alexa Hollen!”

My heart pounded. What did he think he was doing?

“We owe you our very lives,” he continued when the crowd quieted again. “This is the day of my coronation, but I would not be here without you.” And then he pressed his fist to his shoulder as I had done so many times, and bowed to me.

I stared at him, stunned.

Then Lisbet dropped to one knee, followed by Jax at her side. General Tinso was next, then Eljin. Slowly at first, but then with greater and greater speed, the entire crowd lowered to their knees, bowing their heads to me. Even my fellow guards dropped down to the ground, their fists pressed to their shoulders.

I was at once honored and mortified. Did Damian hope to make me rethink my decision by doing this? No matter how grand a gesture it was, it didn’t change the truth of our situation. Tears burned in my eyes as I returned Damian’s bow. He smiled at me, a tender smile that made my heart ache, and then he straightened up.