Back in Whispershire, it was a happy day. The reign of tyranny was over. December 21, the entire kingdom was invited to crown their new King. Kyle stood with the people. He walked gallantly up the red carpet that had been thrown before him. The people cheered.
Balcor and the high priest waited on the top steps of the chapel. Kyle strolled toward them. Balcor had Rosecco’s crown. It was polished and ready, for his son to take his place. The priest waved his hands. The crowd became quiet. “Kyle, son of King Rosecco, and Queen Zipurda,” the priest apportioned the passing of the torch, loudly to the crowd. “You are the rightful ruler of Whispershire.” He handed Kyle a scepter. “Do you swear an oath to protect your people, to respect their wishes, to rule with honor, and to judge them accordin
