side. Bastian watches with pride burning his eyes, while she offers the smallest nod.
Mira stands nearby with Yuriel and Aunt Kalea, whose presence makes my throat tighten. Her body threatens to wilt beneath my gaze, but the time for that anger is over. I cannot blame her for what happened with Father; now, more than ever, we need to stay together. It’s time I accept she’s hurting as much as I am.
I don’t see her true face in the crowd, but when a blond woman with blood-red eyes winks at me, I know Shanty is watching, as well.
I try not to smile at her and begin to search for one more face. Only I don’t realize until a moment later that I’ve no idea whose face I’m looking for. In my mind’s eye, I see eyes green as emeralds and hair red as fire.
But I don’t know who they belong to. Whoever it is, they’re not here.
“Welcome.” I find my voice after a hesitant moment, pulling my focus back to the waiting crowd. “I’m glad for all those who could make it today, especially our friends in Kerost. I know our kingdom hasn’t been the kindest to you, so know that your presence here is truly appreciated.”
As the many faces of my people peer up at me, the first sting of nerves settles into my bones. Gripping the arms of the throne, I let their curiosity sink into my skin and fuel my words.
I will not waver. Everything I’ve done—every struggle and every obstacle I’ve faced—has been for this moment.
“For centuries you’ve put your faith in the Montaras, trusting us to protect this kingdom to the best of our ability. You were told that a fearsome beast lived within the blood of my family, and that it was put there because my great ancestor, Cato Montara, the first ruler of Visidia, risked his life to save this kingdom. You were told to obey him by practicing only one magic, because otherwise that beast would rear its head and destroy Visidia.”
I find Bastian’s face in the crowd and draw a breath at his tiny nod of encouragement before continuing. “But I’m here today to tell you the truth, because as much as I love my family, Visidia deserves better. Cato Montara was no hero; he was a thief and a liar—practicing multiple magics was never dangerous, and there was never any beast involved with soul magic.”
I push on through the growing whispers, telling them the truth behind Visidia’s creation and the lies our kingdom was built upon. I tell them how Cato stole multiple magics through Sira, and of her cursing the Montara bloodline.
I tell them everything, my body lighter with each passing word.
“For everything my family has done, and for every one of my own lies, I am sorry. I can’t take back the harm that’s been done, but I believe there’s a way for us to move through it.”
I anticipated anger and yelling. But to my surprise, the eyes of Visidia look on in anxious silence, hanging upon my every word. With shaking hands, I lift the crown from my head and cast one final look at the eel bones. For centuries this crown has been worn by nothing more than deceitful liars—Cato, Father, me.
Never again will it sit upon the head of a Montara.
“Let today be the day that we take back Visidia and restore this kingdom to the land it once was.” I stand with the crown in hand. “As of today, everyone can practice soul magic. All magic is freely available. As of today, no one else will ever wear this crown, or sit upon this throne! After today, there will be no king or queen. There will be no monarchy!
“We are a kingdom of seven islands.” Each word is fervent, coming with a passion I cannot control. “And so seven leaders are what we must have. Collectively, we will work together to rule this kingdom. There will be no more blood ties—no more royals. Every two years, our people will vote for the representative they want to have leading their island, and together we will lead Visidia into the future every one of us deserves.”
I turn to the advisers behind me, who stand with their shoulders back and chests held proud. “All those in favor, say aye.”
“Aye.” Casem’s the first to respond, his blue eyes sparkling with pride.
Azami echoes him immediately. “Aye.”
Down the line it goes, one adviser after the other. Only Lord Garrison hesitates—but,