Madoc has betrayed Eldred, and Dain is gone, taking all my hopes and plans with him.
Coronations are a time when many things are possible.
Balekin looks insufferably satisfied with himself. “Give me the crown.”
Eldred drops the circlet from his hand. It rolls a little ways across the floor. “Take it yourself if it’s what you so desire.”
Caelia is making a terrible keening sound. Rhyia stares at the crowd in horror. Val Moren stands beside Eldred, his narrow poet’s face pale. With the knights circling it, the dais is like a terrible stage, where all the players are doomed to run through their roles to the same b****y end.
Madoc’s hands are gloved in red. I cannot stop staring at them.
Balekin lifts the High Crown. The golden oak leaves glitter with the light of candle flame. “You wait
