The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(38)
The choir finished singing, the end of their performance leaving pricks of gooseflesh down Maia’s arms. The Aldermaston smiled at the choir. There was no clapping or cheering. Praise would only have defiled such purity of music.
Aldermaston Wyrich gestured for her to kneel again. She did and lifted her face to him.
“Will you, Lady Maia, pledge to defend your subjects, maintain peace, and administer justice throughout the realm?” He smiled at her again, but now there was solemnity in his expression.
“Yes,” she answered boldly.
“Will you promise to the people of Comoros, your realms and dominions, to keep the just and licit laws and liberties of this realm and your dominion?”
“Yes,” she said. Now was the time. She shuddered with anxiety, but the dread in her heart had vanished.
Once she had risen from the pillow, the Aldermaston escorted her to the canopy held by four men who were part of her Privy Council—the mayor, the Earl of Caspur, Dodd, and Richard Syon. Suzenne waited behind them to help her disrobe.
She trembled with cold as Suzenne helped strip away her gown, leaving her in her chaen and chemise. She saw the men’s eyes widen as they took in the sight of the kystrel’s taint rising from beneath her bodice. Even Dodd’s mouth firmed into a small frown. Maia breathed deeply and then knelt once again before the Aldermaston.
Aldermaston Wyrich turned to the four men, his expression grave. “We allow you knowledge of this,” he said softly, “so that there be no deceit in the realm. The marks of corruption you see on her body were not chosen willingly; they were offenses done against her. She passed her maston oaths at Muirwood on Whitsunday. She is a queen-maston, not a hetaera.”
As he spoke, the force of the Medium jolted through the group, as palpable as it had been during the choir’s performance. Maia saw those holding the staves start to tremble, as if the meager weight of it were suddenly too heavy to bear. Tears trickled down Caspur’s cheeks. With a look of astonishment, the mayor flushed and turned away his gaze. Dodd continued to look at her for a moment, his expression changing to wonderment, and then shifted his gaze to Suzenne, as if to ask if she already knew. Suzenne nodded and smiled knowingly.
Richard Syon, who had long known the truth, gave Maia a look of tenderness and encouragement that warmed her heart and emboldened her. He was the one who had helped her the most. He had sustained her, taught her the ways of the Medium, and enlightened her with wisdom and the tomes of the ages. She respected him as a father.
Aldermaston Wyrich took out a small delicate vial topped with a jeweled stopper, which he unsealed. “The Chrism oil,” he said. Then he dipped his smallest finger into the vial and anointed her forehead, temples, shoulders, and breastbone with the pungent-smelling oil.
The wetness and warmth of the oil felt strange against Maia’s skin, yet it did not burn or hurt. It did not mark her as something counter to the Medium. “This coronation ritual has existed for centuries,” the Aldermaston explained. He spoke louder, his voice carrying past the curtain for the crowd to hear. “This oil is pressed from fruit in a certain garden in Idumea. The Garden of Semani. Called the Chrism oil, it is used to anoint Aldermastons. And in this case, a queen. I bestow upon you the rights and stewardship of the kingdom of Comoros as sovereign ruler. May you keep and preserve your oaths as you defend this people.”
“Amen,” uttered the four men holding the canopy. As she looked at each of the men holding the canopy, she saw nothing but respect and loyalty. She felt their support and was silently grateful.
Suzenne then opened a wardrobe chest and removed the queen’s regalia, a gown befitting Maia’s rank, though one that was less adorned than the ones Lady Deorwynn had favored. She quickly helped her dress, covering her from the sight of the men who now knew her secret. With the binding sigil removed, they would be free to speak of it with others. She silently hoped that they would not, that the power of the Medium they had felt would be enough to silence their tongues.
Once she was dressed in the ceremonial gown, they lowered the covering and revealed her to the rest of those assembled in the courtyard. The Aldermaston then summoned the implements of her authority—the sword of state, which he girded around her waist as if she had been a king, the scepter of power, and the Cruciger orb. Then in front of everyone assembled, the Aldermaston put the coronation ring on her finger—marrying her to the kingdom—and the crown on her head, giving her full authority over it. This finalized the ceremony.
As she felt the metal of the crown weigh down her hair and press against her temples, the choir of Assinica started to sing again, and this time their anthem was more festive and celebratory. Their song signaled to the crowds that the coronation was over, and the cheer that began outside the walls shook the very platform on which Maia stood. People on rooftops visible over the abbey walls waved hats and screamed her name. There were so many people in the street, on porches and verandas and roofs, it was almost a riot. She would have to pass through them to get back to the palace, and the very notion of doing so was daunting.
The choir continued to sing as the procession began to return to the castle, leaving in the same order that it had entered. The sea of onlookers strained against the wall of pikemen who had formed to prevent the people from converging on the street.
“Are you relieved it is almost over?” Suzenne whispered from behind her.
“Over?” Maia asked, straining with a smile and twirling the scepter as she waited for their turn to walk. “My troubles are just beginning.”