At the eleventh hour of the night, the Great Council Chamber of the High Citadel was blazing with the light of two hundred beeswax tapers held in bronze wall sconces. For the first time in the two-hundred-and-ten-year history of the kingdom, the carved dark wood chairs surrounding the sovereign council table were not occupied only by dukes, earls, and high chancellors.
Alderman Thorne sat at the northern head of the table, his rough, flour-dusted hands resting openly upon the polished dark wood. Beside him sat Master Baker Kael. His fingers still was dark with ink, and Master Mason Gerrick of the Quarry Guild, wearing his plain leather work vest. Across the table sat Chief Justice Lord Maren and three senior judges of the King’s Bench, their scarlet robes spread with solemn dignity over the high-backed chairs.
Tomas Reed stood at the center of the hall, his ash-wood pack frame resting on the floor beside him. In his hands he held the duplicate thick parchment roll bearing the four sovereign seals ratified in the King’s bedchamber.
Hester Quill stepped to the podium, her brass briefcase open before her. Her voice carried with crystal-clear power through the vaulted room.
“Let it be entered into the Great Roll of the Realm,” Hester proclaimed, her quill poised above the registry sheet: “That on this twenty-fourth day of autumn, the Coronation Promise of King Alden the First is declared fully validated, satisfied, and enforced. The sum of one hundred thousand gold sovereigns has been formally…
