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Tiberias looks paler than usual, cheeks drained of color But in shame or fear, I can’t tell Maybe it’s exhaustion Or pain In spite of it, he is every inch a king His arled lines of his jaw and cheekbones look sharper soht on his shoulders It’s a mask, all of it A brave face he ers bare without fla in his eyes

"The city is yours," Rhambos says, his head bowed and hands raised

Queen Anabel steps close to her grandson’s shoulder, fingers curled like talons She ht be the only person on earth who can seem royal without her finery "You will address hi further, al his lips to the carpeted floor "Your Majesty, King Tiberias," he offers without hesitation He spreads his hands wide in open faith "The city of Harbor Bay, and the entirety of the Beacon region, is rightfully yours Returned to the true king of Norta"

Tiberias looks down his straight nose, turning the blade The edge catches the light The lord flinches, squinting against the sudden glare "And what of House Rhaeline snorts into her hand "What a performance"

"We are yours as well, to do with as you wish," the lord murmurs, his voice broken For all he knows, Tiberias could execute his entire family Pull them out at the root Wipe their nas have done worse for less "Our soldiers, ouroff all his house can give All his living house can give

A beat of silence stretches, taut as a pulled wire Threatening to snap apart Tiberias surveys Lord Rha, his face blank and unreadable Then he bears a s I can’t tell if it’s real

"I thank you for it," he says, inclining his head a fraction Beneath him, Lord Rhambos all but shudders in relief "Just as I will thank every e an oath of loyalty towho sits on my father’s throne"

At his side, Anabel beams If she coached him, she did it well

"Yes--yes, of course," Rharee I notice Tiberias edging his toes away, lest the fallen lord try to kiss theth is yours"

Tiberias’s face tightens "By tou his head Still kneeling, he clenches bothof Norta and true Flaer by the second

The crowd of advisers and soldiers, both Silver and Red, responds in kind, repeating the obnoxious titles A bit of color returns to Tiberias’s cheeks as he flushes His eyes dart back and forth, trying to note who cries his na lips I hold his gaze, feeling a thrill as I keepher nails instead of the unfolding pageantry