“Elene took a deep breath, feeling the crown grow heavier on her head. The priest’s words droned on, but they meant nothing to her. She stood, glancing to her side where Zender waited with his hand extended, the heavy mantle of the Emperor falling from his broad shoulders. A matching crown adorned his head, his silver hair slicked back, accentuating his sharp features. He was smiling—a victorious smile—though his eyes weren’t on her. She placed her fingers in his, allowing him to guide her up the stairs. Her formal dress dragged heavily behind her, each step a struggle. When they reached the landing where their golden thrones awaited, they stopped and turned to face the crowd.”
Lydia’s mother paused, swallowing loudly as she glanced over the top of the book she was reading from. Lydia pr
