Chapter 580: Chapter 580
"You really believe I can do this?" He asked, needing one more reassurance from her. She was more than just his sister, she had raised him. She was his first mentor and the one he looked up to. Her words mattered to him more than she would ever understand.
"I know you can."
The certainty in her answer appeased the nervous side of his mind.
For the first time since she had entered the room, some of the tension left his face.
Another knock sounded at the door.
"Enter." Rowen called. A second later several servants entered the room carrying his ceremonial garments.
Circe stepped aside.
"I’ll leave you to get ready, your majesty." She smirked and it drew a laugh from him.
When Circe returned to his chambers later, she was already fully dressed for the ceremony and so was Rowen.
The servants had outdone themselves.
Rowen stood near the center of the room dressed in ancient Westerian regalia.
Rich fabrics draped elegantly across his frame. Gold embroidery shimmered in the morning light. A velvet ceremonial sash hung from his shoulders.
He looked less like her younger brother and more like one of the kings from the history books she had studied as a child.
Before she could comment, the door burst open.
Khamsin rushed inside first.
His younger brother, Alistair and sister, Reyna, followed close behind. Excitement practically radiated from all three children.
"Where is the crown?" the younger boy asked immediately.
"It’s not here," Rowen answered, amused by their rambunctiousness. "The crown comes later."
"Oh." The disappointment lasted all of two seconds.
"What about the scepter?"
"Also later."
Khamsin laughed at his brother’s endless questions.
"You should’ve just brought everything here." Alistair pouted.
Rowen snorted. "I will do that next time, don’t worry."
The children gathered around him, asking question after question.
The tension surrounding the coronation eased beneath their enthusiasm.
Khamsin studied his uncle with obvious admiration. At eleven years old, he had reached the age where he understood the significance of the day.
Watching them together, Circe was filled with joy. After everything their family had lost over the years, moments like this mattered.
***
The throne room was filled long before the ceremony began.
Nobles occupied rows of seats beneath towering banners bearing the colors of Westeria.
Foreign dignitaries filled designated sections and representatives from neighboring kingdoms were in attendance, watching attentively.
Among them sat the Lamorian delegation.
The atmosphere was solemn. Anticipation lingered beneath every whispered conversation.
Years of history seemed to converge within those walls and today would mark the start of a new reign.
When the regent finally stepped forward, silence swept through the chamber.
For ten years he had governed faithfully but today his duty would end.
His voice carried clearly throughout the room as he formally relinquished authority and acknowledged the conclusion of the regency.
The declaration marked the end of an era.
Then Rowen appeared. Every eye turned toward him.
Circe watched from her place beside her mother, Ragnar and the children.
Before returning to Westeria, Thalora used an ancient form of magic to weave a new glamour around herself. It spared her the burden of revealing what she truly was and explaining to countless people how she could be alive when the world believed she had died twenty years ago. To everyone else, she appeared as an entirely different woman, though to her family she was still Thalora.
From that day forward, she intended to divide her time between Westeria and Lamora, ensuring she would always remain close to those she loved.
Circe felt her heart swelled with pride as Rowen walked with confidence despite the enormity of the moment.
Step by step, he approached the throne.
The ceremony unfolded according to ancient tradition.
The ornate crown was brought forth.
The throne room remained utterly silent as it was placed upon Rowen’s head. A jeweled scepter was handed to him next.
It was a symbol of authority, a symbol of responsibility and a kingdom restored.
Then came the oath.
Rowen’s voice remained steady as he swore to rule with justice and integrity, to protect his people and make the kingdom a safe and prosperous place.
As he concluded, the throne room broke into enthusiastic applause.
Circe blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling. Emotion made her throat feel tight.
She could not have been more proud.
Immediately after the crowning and the taking of the oath, Rowen, accompanied by Circe and the regent, made his way to the grand balcony overlooking the castle grounds. A vast sea of Westerian citizens had gathered—commoners, merchants, craftsmen, soldiers, and entire families who had traveled from near and far to witness this historic moment. Every available space below was packed with people eager to see their new king and celebrate the dawn of a new era.
As Rowen stepped into view, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. The sound filled the air, swelling louder and louder until it seemed to shake the very ground beneath their feet. Chants of his name echoed through the city streets while banners bearing the colors of Westeria fluttered proudly in the breeze. Horns sounded from the castle walls, and the air filled with joyous cries, and celebration.
For a brief moment, Rowen stood frozen, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all. The weight of the crown upon his head suddenly felt very real. Yet as he looked out across the crowd and met the faces turned toward him, his nervousness began to fade. In its place came a resolve. He saw genuine hope shining in the eyes of the people below, hope for stability, prosperity, and a future they could finally call their own.
Drawing a steady breath, Rowen raised a hand in acknowledgment. The cheers only grew louder.
Beside him, Circe watched the celebration unfold, her gaze sweeping over the jubilant crowd. Together they stood witness to a moment that would be remembered for generations.
The responsibility resting upon his shoulders was immense, but so too was his determination. Challenges undoubtedly lay ahead, yet for the first time in many years, the future seemed very bright.
And as thousands of voices rose together in celebration, Rowen silently vowed to build a kingdom worthy of the faith they all placed on him.
