that anyone who wanted to confirm the legitimacy of his claims, that the kehok had once been Zarin, could do so. It had already been sworn to by the augurs of the fallen temple, but other augurs were pouring in from other cities and they too wished to see with their own eyes. Thanks to Lady Evara, even those without the training to see auras were adding credence to the claim that this kehok was the late Emperor Zarin, falsely reborn as a monster. She had, apparently, been busy spreading the truth among the powerful men and women in the palace, and now everyone was curious to see this wonder.
And the woman who had tamed him.
Raia had been draped in silks and jewels, and she felt like an ornament standing next to the gleaming black metal lion. Over the last several hours, she thought she’d been stared at by every single person in Becar. She tried to remember not to fidget or scratch her nose or look as uncomfortable as she felt.
In addition to the finery, she also wore a heavy amulet around her neck, proclaiming her the Grand Champion of the Becaran Races—as if there was anyone in the entire empire who didn’t know who she was. She’d never meant to become famous. But in a way, she’d become as famous as the emperor-to-be himself.
My life will never be the same.
Certainly she’d never be able to hide in plain sight anymore. She wasn’t forgettable the way she had been when she first ran from home, so very long ago. She wondered if anyone had told her parents about her new status: handler of the late emperor’s vessel, grand champion, and friend to the emperor-to-be, and she wondered what they’d think. She told herself she should no longer care, though that was easier to say than believe.
She touched the one piece of jewelry she’d been allowed to choose herself—the pin that Dar had given her, in the shape of a lion. It calmed her.
Bells began to ring all over the Heart of Becar. High and low notes blended together into a cacophony. She twisted to look up at the great entrance. Prince Dar had emerged, weighed down in more finery than she’d ever seen. He carried it with no sign of its weight as he crossed to the clear pool of water in front of the palace. She immediately stopped feeling bad about all that she was wearing.
Poor Dar, she thought.
The new head augur carried the symbols of coronation. She projected an air of calm dignity.
A steward beckoned frantically at Raia. Our cue, she thought at the black lion. With her hand on his mane, Raia walked the lion down the steps.
The audience was packed into the streets. They backed up as she walked past them and took her place on the opposite side of the mirror pool. Her and the lion’s reflections appeared in the clear water. The emperor and the augur were reflected in the opposite side.
One by one, various courtiers spoke. In an unrushed coronation, these would have been the governors of the various districts and cities of Becar, but there wasn’t time for the travel, and so they’d chosen representatives to read speeches sent by messenger wights.
Raia heard little of the speeches. Most of her concentration was on the lion, keeping him calm, and on Prince Dar. He was listening, seemingly intently, as he was lectured on the noble duty of the emperor to his people. The words were traditional, but the emotion in them wasn’t. She heard a mix of fear and relief—the people needed an emperor, but few had ever seen a succession like this.
At last it was Raia’s turn.
She cleared her throat and said the official words: “I present the late emperor’s vessel and certify that Prince Dar has fulfilled his duty to his family, our history, and our traditions.” Her voice didn’t shake, and she kept her eyes fixed on Dar.
He smiled at her, and that was all she needed. She heard a roar of ragged cheers from the crowd behind her, which was answered by the black lion roaring at the sky. She grinned at Dar, then at her lion. Then she tilted back her head and roared too.
The augur presented the symbols of the emperor: blue beads that draped over Dar’s shoulders to symbolize the river, a gold pendant in the shape of a stylized sun, and a simple circlet of silver that had been worn by the very first