“Damn!” Ash hissed, spurring the bull-horse onward. Tejus’s horse started to canter as well, coming to ride side by side with ours. A moment later, I could hear the thundering of hooves from the Impartial Ministers’ mounts as well.
“What’s going on?” I yelled.
“The other kingdoms,” Ash yelled back.
I didn’t get more of an answer than that, but I didn’t need one. A few seconds later, we were on the lawn of the palace, which was completely covered with yelling, rowdy sentries.
Benedict and Julian!
Without a doubt, these sentries weren’t gathered here for any purpose other than revenge and taking their frustrations out on someone they could hold accountable…
They were so intent on screaming toward the palace that none of them noticed our presence.
“Do something!” Tejus barked at the Impartial Ministers. “They need to know! We need to stop them before this gets out of hand!”
The Impartial Ministers kicked their bull horses ahead of us, taking the lead. A few sentries fell silent at their approach, and the effect fell across the rest of the crowd—one by one, the villagers, ministers and guards stopped hurling insults and the crowd parted to let us through.
“Oh, my God!” I cried out as I saw Benedict standing, frozen, at the opposite end of the lawn, a mean-looking young sentry holding a scythe to his throat. The offender dropped his weapon as the Impartial Ministers approached. He stood back from Benedict, glaring at us.
“All silent for the emperor of Nevertide!” the ministers announced. “All silent for Emperor Ashbik!”
Absolute silence descended. Hazel clambered off her horse and rushed toward Benedict, holding him in a tight embrace. Her soft mutterings were the only sound that came from the lawn.
A moment later, I heard rustling coming from behind me—then next to us—then from every single part of the lawn as each soul gathered in front of the palace began to kneel.
“Oh, Ash,” I whispered.
It was the most moving sight I’d ever seen. I could hardly believe that the Ash I knew—the boy who had rescued me from a dank cellar with a cart of vegetables, who had slept in a makeshift bed buried deep within the Hellswan castle, who had faced defeat after defeat—was witnessing the survivors of all six kingdoms bowing down to him in reverence and respect.
Tingles ran throughout my body and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I vowed I would remember this moment forever. Every time I thought something was impossible—when my grandchildren thought something was impossible—I would be reminded of this moment. The day a kitchen boy became an emperor.
“Rise!” Ash barked, following the Impartial Ministers in the direction of the palace. “Someone tell me what’s going on here!”
The crowd did as they’d been commanded, and as we waited by the porch, a minister stumbled forward from the crowd.
“Your imperial highness.” He bowed. “Forgive us, but we wanted answers. Our kingdoms have been destroyed, our rulers killed—the human boy tells us that Queen Trina is to blame, but many suspected Tejus…” He trailed off.
Ash disembarked from the horse and then turned to help me down.
“What kingdom are you from?” he asked the minister.
“Hadalix, your highness.”
Ash nodded.
“The human boy is right—but we face a greater danger than Queen Trina; the entity, an unknown threat to us all, rises, and we will not survive if we do not unite.”
Benedict sighed from behind me. “That’s what I said,” he muttered.
“Your highness, with all due respect,” the minister continued, “we have not managed to unify in the whole of Nevertide’s history—what makes you think we will be able to accomplish such a thing now?”
“He’s right!” piped up another sentry from the crowd. “There’s never been harmony between the kingdoms—and that’s been mostly the fault of the Hellswans!”
Ash raised his arms, signifying silence.
“Tejus is not to blame for any of this. Today we will forgive the rulers who came before us.” He glanced toward Tejus, who had come to stand at Hazel’s side. “Forgive them their mistakes, so that we can save Nevertide from the entity—so we can build ourselves a better future. One that isn’t shrouded in lies and deceit, divided by rulers and their subjects; one where each sentry can choose their future. It will come at a price, but it will be the price of freedom. I urge you to join me, to join us.”
“I will pay that price—I will fight for my freedom.” A voice, distinctly female, came from the back of the lawn. I couldn’t see who it belonged to, until the crowds parted and a familiar face appeared. It was Queen Memenion. She walked toward us, as radiantly beautiful as I remembered, flanked by her ministers, a soft smile on her face.