“A… feast?” Marna repeated.

  “Of course,” Varre replied, “we have to celebrate my coronation right? We need food, drinks, entertainment. Everything has to be absolutely top notch.”

  The steward couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Oh gods, she thought, do I seriously have to explain why that’s a bad idea? I don’t want to get on his bad side this early. I’ve barely managed to keep my job as is.

  Fortunately Hakon took her side. “Your majesty. I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, considering the circumstances.”

  The new monarch cocked his eyebrow. “What? Why not?”

  “We haven’t concluded our investigation yet,” the captain explained, “until we find out who poisoned the former king, and how, it is best to avoid another feast. Some of the food in our stocks might still be poisoned.”

  “Well alright,” Varre conceded, “what if we organize something small then? At one of the city’s taverns. That should be safe right?”

  “If I may,” Benjamin cut in, “king Mikkel was assassinated just yesterday. On a feast of his own. It could be seen as insulting to organize another celebration so soon.”

  “Tsk. Fine,” Varre leaned back on the sofa, “I guess I see your point. But if we can’t have a feast for my sake, shouldn’t we at least do something to celebrate old Mikkel? I’m sure he would have liked that.”

  Marna perked up. “After the coronation, we can hold a ceremony in the throne room. We can invite the most powerful nobles in the city and have them officially renew their oaths of fealty to your rule. It’ll send a powerful message.”

  “Not really, what I had in mind,” the new king admitted, “but fine, I suppose.”

  “One more thing,” the captain said, “what shall we do about Count Neville? I believe he has calmed down by now.”

  Varre looked at his advisors. “Is he going to be a problem?”

  The steward looked down on the ground for a second. “I don’t think so. He was very emotional there, but he is still young, so it could be excused. I doubt he will actually do anything against you. He isn’t particularly influential or important... I think it will be worse to keep him locked up for too long. It will spark accusations of tyranny.”

  “I don’t mind. Anyone can make mistakes. Let him go then,” the new king paused, “and make sure to tell him I wasn’t insulted. I wish to remain friends.”

  With that, the impromptu meeting was over. Marna and Hakon excused themselves out of the room. The steward still had plenty of work to prepare for tomorrow. Even if the coronation and the funeral had already been scheduled, the guest list was not finalized.

  Varre didn’t think much of it, but this was actually one of the most important tasks. Marna would need to be extremely careful here. The space available at the central temple was limited. The choice of who would stand closest to the king would send a powerful message. On the other hand, forgetting to invite an important noble could spark a serious incident.

  As she stressed multiple times, the most important thing was to avoid chaos at all costs. The people across all levels of society will be confused and terrified as soon as they hear about the latest events. The death of the ruling monarch was one thing, but an assassination? And of almost the entire dynasty at that? Catastrophic. Marna would need to do everything in her power to gather as much support as possible. Dark days were ahead.

  While the steward worked on legitimizing the new king, the Captain of the Royal Guard focused on eliminating more physical threats to his life. So far, he dispatched a couple of his most capable men to conduct the investigation. Their job was simple. Find out exactly which servants worked in the kitchens last night and identify the most likely culprit among them. Hakon would take care of the rest.

  In the meantime, Varre was left alone with his chamberlain. He gave Benjamin a tour of the quarters, while the old man fawned over every little thing. He found many little innovations that the new king missed upon his initial inspection. A hidden compartment in the living room contained a set of dice and cards for gambling. In the bathroom, he found a stepladder, to help one climb into the tub safely.

  However the most interesting secret he uncovered was the desk in the royal office. Based on the size of each drawer, Benjamin realized that there must have been quite a few hidden compartments all over the desk. Due to their nature, figuring out how to open them would be quite the challenge.

  With nothing better to do, Varre decided to try his hand at it. After about half an hour, he managed to figure out that twisting one of the drawer handles sideways opened one compartment, but that was it.

  The king must have passed down instructions to someone, perhaps his preferred heir, but with most of the dynasty dead now, that knowledge died with them. Maybe I’ll try asking Marna, Varre reasoned, if anyone knows, it would be her. Or Hakon.

  After all of today’s excitement, the new king just wanted to go to sleep and get it over with. Benjamin however, insisted on extensive preparations for tomorrow. He had Varre try on all of the different clothes in the royal closets, trying to pick the most radiant outfit for tomorrow’s ceremony. After hours of battling growing complaints from his liege, he finally settled on something he liked.

  Still, even that wasn’t enough. The chamberlain wanted Varre to prepare a speech for his coronation ceremony. Even if he was reluctant, the new king had to agree that improvisation wouldn’t be enough. He still remembered his grade from the last time he neglected a presentation. Grumbling and annoyed, he sat at his new desk and tried to churn out some appropriate speech.

  Damn it, he thought to himself, this is just like college all over again. After waking up in this world, I hoped I’d never need to work on another presentation again. Yet here we are. I hope they don’t expect me to do this too often, he sighed, at least no one will be grading me on this.

  Exhaustion caught up with him, as soon as he had finished writing his speech. He wanted to get to bed immediately, but still, Benjamin insisted on having the king read it out loud several times.

  We’ve been over this five times already old man, Varre thought to himself while he clenched his teeth, if you ask me to read it one more time, I’m going to have you executed.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Fortunately, there would be no need for that. “Well done, my lord. It’s perfect.”

  “Thank god,” Varre responded as he threw the paper on top of his desk, “can I finally go to sleep now?”

  The old man smiled. “Of course. I took the liberty of drawing a bath for you as well.”

  Cursing under his breath, the new king shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. It was a long day. The longest he’d had since arriving in this strange world, but at least it was finally over.

  If only he knew how much more stressful the next days would get, he’d run out of the castle right now and never look back.

  -*-*-*-

  The next morning Varre was woken up by the smell of warm eggs. He lifted himself up on his shoulders and moved the curtains on his bedframe aside.

  The chamberlain was already in the bedroom, laying out the clothes for today’s events.

  “Good morning Benjamin,” the new king said, stretching.

  “Good morning your majesty! I have to get used to saying that from now on,” he pointed to the bedtable, with his open palm.

  There, on top of a large silver food tray, lay an assortment of dishes. The warm eggs that woke him up, a large selection of different hams and cheeses, crunchy bread, and several bowls of different vegetables.

  “I hope this is satisfactory,” the chamberlain said, “there is a long day ahead of you. Please eat up. I bought the food earlier this morning, at one of the markets, and had our own chef prepare it. You can be sure it’s safe.”

  Varre acknowledged him with a nod. He started eating, as the servant kept laying out the necessary clothes on the proper racks.

  Within half an hour, the new king was satiated and fully dressed. He wore a magnificent blue tunic, with soft fur around the collar. He had dark silk pants, and comfortable leather boots. His belt was studded with gold, and so was his blue cloak. Both also proudly bore the Logres coat of arms, a golden dragon. As befitted the monarch, Varre’s version of the emblem also displayed a crown above the dragon’s head.

  Despite that, the young man’s head was bare. He would receive a crown at a later point, during the coronation ceremony itself. Instead, to signify his status, he wore a heavy golden chain, with a magnificent diamond.

  A pair of servants walked into the chamber to put the finishing touches on the king. They combed his hair and oiled his mustache. He was reminded of Perry and Jury, Zarkon’s assistants who performed the same procedures back when Mikkel came to visit his still recovering nephew. No one could have expected that just eight months later, Varre would take the crown for himself.

  Once Varre was ready, Marna and Hakon came to collect him. The steward hastily went over the schedule again, while Hakon arranged the Royal Guards into a protective cordon around the monarch.

  The group moved downstairs, into a magnificent carriage waiting in the courtyard. The former student thought that the one he used before was opulent enough, but this one was on a whole another level. Eight horses pulled the massive vehicle. A flag was connected to each corner of the roof, proudly flying the royal coat of arms.

  Varre got inside, followed by Marna, Hakon, and Benjamin. The chamberlain hesitated at first. The new king had to wave him over, before the old man finally got in. His will to follow a direct order was enough to overcome his reluctance to break with tradition.

  The carriage was large enough to fit all four people comfortably. There was enough space to fit two more, though it would have been a tighter fit. The sofas were soft, even softer than the one he was using before, as a duke. Either way, both were much nicer to sit on than the beat up car Varre used to drive around in back on Earth.

  Four Royal Guards, wearing plate armor rode ahead of the carriage. Each upon a magnificent horse, dressed in armor as well. There were more guards on the sides and behind the procession, but Varre couldn’t really crane his neck enough to count them all.

  Besides that, there was the funerary carriage, holding the body of the king and queen riding just behind Varre’s. This was the normal procedure, however Marna had a new idea. The bodies of the other murdered dynasty members rode in four additional carriages, behind Mikkel’s own.

  “Will the others be buried during the same ceremony?” Benjamin asked, making conversation, “I always thought that the monarch’s funeral was a unique event.”

  “It was my idea,” the steward explained, “these are difficult, unprecedented times. They require new solutions.”

  “Is it truly wise to break with tradition at this point?” the chamberlain wasn’t convinced, “we don’t want to spark unnecessary arguments.”

  Marna looked out the window wistfully. “It will definitely get people talking. But it has to be done. The most traditional folk will complain either way. This way, we can at least gather support from those who are willing to try new things, or those who, just like us, want to focus on stability at all costs.”

  “And how is it going out there,” Varre pointed towards the city, “what do the people say about Mikkel’s assassination?”

  “It’s too early to say for sure,” she admitted, “everyone is in shock of course. But we expected as much. It’ll take some time for people to form any actual opinions.”

  The new king stretched out on the sofa. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll love me. I can be very likeable you know?”

  Marna smiled. “I hope you’re right, your majesty. Of course, you can already count on my support.”

  “See? At this rate, the entire kingdom will love me by the end of the week,” Varre joked.

  With that, the formation began moving. The horses slowly walked across the drawbridge and entered the cobblestone city streets. Rows of nobles came out to witness their new monarch for the first time. A few waved, but most had sullen expressions. Varre wasn’t sure if this was because of distrust, or if they were simply saddened by Mikkel’s death.

  The procession followed the main boulevard, heading towards the central temple. Varre had only seen it from the outside before. It was a tall cathedral, bordered by two massive bell towers. It was dedicated to worshipping Zyvan, the patron god of the city.

  In front of the temple was a large plaza. Some of the Royal Guards had arrived here earlier, and moved the people aside. The crowds here were much denser than on the streets. Most of the people were still nobles, though many rich merchants and maybe even some of the wealthier craftsmen came out to witness the ceremony.

  The royal carriage stopped right in front of the main entrance. One of the guards came up to the doors, to help everyone get down the steep steps. Varre walked out first and stopped to look at his subjects. He waved, awkwardly.

  A few isolated cheers rang out, a few of the others waved, but he was mostly met with silence. Fortunately, the rest of his advisors were quick to step out behind him and could lead him into the temple, sparing any further embarrassment.

  The funeral wagons stopped just behind the royal carriage. Lower ranked priests crowded around them, helping to move the coffins down.

  Varre entered the cathedral through the massive wooden doors. The building was already packed. Rows of stone pews stood in the center, filled with the highest echelons of nobility in the capital. They all stopped their hushed conversations and stared at their monarch, curiously.

  The new king had no idea how long they’ve been sitting here, but he recalled the words that Mikkel once told him. ‘A king never waits. Others wait for him’. Apparently that was standard practice in Logres.

  By the sheer amount of people here, Varre assumed that no one was brave enough to insult their new ruler by ignoring the invitations. In fact it was the complete opposite, it was seen as a great honor to be invited to this ceremony.

  “The royal seats are in the front of the temple,” Hakon whispered in the king’s ear.

  Varre nodded and started walking forward. He kept his chamberlain’s earlier advice in mind. He remembered to walk proudly and confidently through the center of the temple. His boots clicked on the marble floor.

  An elderly man, wearing red robes and gold jewelry stood next to the front row. Varre realized this must have been the archpriest. He greeted the monarch with a handshake and introduced himself as Tymerius. The former student expected a bow, but he wasn’t very well educated in the relationship between church and state in this kingdom. He shook the old man’s hand and took a seat.

  The two front rows were separated from the rest of the audience by a small fence. Varre sat alone in the first. These seats were covered in a nice, soft fabric. His advisors sat behind him. Apparently the first row was intended exclusively for the royal family. Even councilors had to sit in the second.

  The ceremony began shortly after. Drums began beating a loud tune, and the horde of lower ranked priests carried in around thirty coffins. They laid them out close to the altar. Since each coffin had to be carried by six men at once, they needed to make three separate trips to bring in each coffin. Finally, once the last one was set down, the ceremony officially began.

  There will be no feast.

  All Varre gets is a stuffy ceremony instead. Could there really be anything worse?

  And who do you think was the likeliest culprit so far?

  Tune in for the coronation ceremony tomorrow!