A Prayer For The Crown-shy Novels & Stories

All I hear is, "By the power vested upon me, you will become the queen of Evergreen, from today until forever!" A maid removes my crown and my father stands up. He walks next to the high priest. The priest takes a few steps back and my father takes the queen's crown. Gently, he crowns me with it and says, "I am so proud of you!" I force a smile and curtsy as father nods and goes back into his place. I face the crowd once and for all. The high priest announces, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Children, world-- help me welcome the new Queen of Evergreen, Aurora Wintershade!"

With that, he places the crown gently on Sean's head and the moment it fits in, he closes his eyes and exudes a really great amount of power, almost like a strong wind around him. Applause is heard from the crowd behind us and the priest proceeds to pick up the silver crown, which I'm guessing is mine. My hunch being correct, he stands in front of me and proclaims the same words he did for Sean and places the crown gently on my head as well. Immediately, a fierce surge of energy shoots through my body into every joint, bone, vein and finally, I feel a shock in my heart. A short but electrifying shock. Afterward, a calm feeling flows through my nerves and I sigh in relief as I open my eyes to

I’ll be the crown. I cut a rune into the pedestal, blood-ink from my palm, the crown amplifying it. The shade-storm grows, shadows scratching the walls, cracking stone. I pull a scroll from my gown, inked with my orders: Crown me, or the Dominion burns. I toss it to Dante. “Get this to the council. Now.” He catches it, pausing. “You’re sure? If they turn on you—” “They won’t,” I cut in, aura flaring, knocking him back. “They’ll see Perez’s chaos and choose me. Go.”

Appreciated was another word with teeth. A cleric cleared his throat. “The kingdom has entered a period of intensified prayer.” Alina’s jaw tightened. So it had begun. “The people gather daily,” the cleric continued. “Fasts have been declared. Processions formed. Offerings given.” He paused, letting the weight of that settle. “And yet,” he added, “the Crown remains dim.” Dim. Not silent. Not dead. Dim. A warning word, chosen carefully. Alina met his gaze. “Prayer without listening does not awaken holy things.”

“This is not a circlet kissed by moons or forged by gods.” She turned in a slow circle. “This is pain made visible. This is grief made iron. This is every name they buried to build their empires.” She paused. Let her voice drop. “This is mine.” Venn spoke. “Will you place it on your head?” Sirelia looked at him. “No.” She set the crown on the altar. “Let it crown itself.” The flames beneath the altar flared. And the crown rose. It hovered. Spinning slowly. Blood wept from its edges.

And as she lowered it, my eyes closed and when she finally placed it over my head, a lone tear rolled down my cheek. The world came to a sudden halt around me. All I could feel now was the weight of the crown over my head. It wasn't only on my head, it was also on my shoulders now. In that moment, I prayed to the Almighty to make me a just ruler, the one I had always admired to be, not the one I'd already despised and fought against.

the priest intones, “approach and accept the mantle of your realm, the honor of your people, and the responsibilities that come with the crown.” I step forward, the soft echo of my gown brushing the marble floor. The crown seems impossibly heavy, though it weighs nothing in my hands yet carries the gravity of generations. As the priest lifts it toward my head, Darian steps closer, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. “You are more than ready,” he murmurs, voice close to my ear. “I trust you. I always will.”

Alpha Caleb smiled, his eyes sparkling with pride. "My beloved children," he began, his voice brimming with emotion, "today, I present to you a symbol of your growth, resilience, and dedication. Inside this box lies the ancient crown, a symbol of authority and leadership that has been passed down through generations." Ethan and Ava exchanged glances, their hearts filled with a mixture of gratitude and awe. They approached the box, their hands trembling slightly as they lifted the lid. Nestled within was a magnificent crown, adorned with intricately carved symbols representing unity, strength, and wisdom.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, adding a touch of sanctity to the illuminated temple. Tap, tap. The rhythmic footsteps of Crown Prince Kral resonated throughout the hall. His black hair was neatly groomed, accentuating his handsome features. His golden eyes were even more captivating under the glow of the candles. His tall figure exuded an imposing presence, emphasized by the crimson ceremonial robe. Today, Crown Prince Kral resembled a proud male lion, its mane flowing gracefully. Now, this arrogant lion descended from his lofty throne, crossed the long steps, and approached the delicate flower with the patience of a hunter. He slowly drew closer to Delia's carriage.

I let him see a version of it , the trembling hands, a slight widening of my eyes, the particular stammer I've practised until it feels almost real even to me. "I would never," I say. "I would never do anything to endanger the crown. My whole family's position depends on the crown's good graces, you know that better than anyone, Second Prince, I would be a fool” "Yes," he says. "You would be. So either you're exactly the fool you appear to be, or you're something considerably more interesting playing a very convincing fool. I haven't decided which yet."