Coronation

Prince Fernan paced back and forth between the walls of his bedroom, the adrenaline running through his system making it impossible to sit still. This was the day. This was the day that he would no longer be a prince, at the beck and call of his mother and father, but the king, with the whole country under his finger. The thought left him with a mixture of elation and fear - it would be good to finally be in control of his own life, but he would be in control of the lives of every man, woman, and child in his kingdom as well. Eyes would be on him at all times. But it was worth the freedom.

He had been advised not to eat before the ceremony, as the anxiety that he was going through may have caused his stomach to turn, and if he were to vomit on the way to his coronation, it would not be a good sign for his rule. He had spent a large amount of time drinking water, which correspondingly meant that he spent a lot of time at the toilet as well. As time drew close to his crowning, he drank less water as well - having to pee in the middle of the ceremony would surely not make things any easier or better looking than vomiting would.

By the time he was finally called to the throne room, his legs were weak from the amount of pacing he had done, and his throat was starting to feel dry. He had miscalculated the amount of time he had left before the ceremony would call on him, and had stopped drinking far too early - but he had not wanted to take another, for he was sure that the moment he did he would be called on. But still, he raised his head high and kept his chin pointed up as he walked down the halls to the throne. In a few short moment it would no longer be what was promised to him, but what belonged to him. He would be given the crown. And his reign would begin.

There were dozens of royalty collected together around the edges of the throne room as he entered, a blaze of trumpets announcing his arrival, and bringing the nobles' chatting to a cease. He stood just inside the doorway for a moment, eyeing his audience, seeing those who had elected to come and take witness, and those who had not. He also noted the way that they looked at him - he had always had a talent for being able to see whether or not someone had ill intentions from the look in their eyes. It had gotten him out of trouble more than once in his youth.

And then he strode forward, to where his father was standing, crown in hand. In silence, he knelt before the now former king, and felt the crown placed on his own head. He stood, turned. Looked over the crowd, as they took him in, and he took them in. And then there was cheering. And he was king.