83: 83 I Will Crown You

83 I Will Crown You

Alan's POV 1

The twilight was touching the earth. and the moon now occupied the center of the sky. Its radiant light streamed through the skylight above the temple, illuminating the statue of the Moon Goddess. The Moon Goddess inclined her head ever so slightly, her gaze fixed upon the couple ascending the steps with measured footsteps.

It was only when Prince Kral finally guided Delia to the front of the throne that the onlookers gradually snapped out of their trance. I surveyed the expressions of each individual, categorizing them into three distinct groups. The noble attendees wore expressions of envy towards Delia, the alphas from different packs displayed a submissive deference to Prince Kral's authority, while the elders' gaze betrayed a complexity that eluded easy interpretation.

As the prince's most trusted man, I stood in a corner, one hand firmly resting on the hilt of my sword at my waist. For reasons unknown, I couldn't help but be particularly vigilant during today's ceremony. An enigmatic intuition whispered to me that the proceedings would not unfold as smoothly as anticipated.

Under the guidance of Susanna, the orchestra commenced an enchanting melody. The nobles placed their goblets aside and patiently awaited the pivotal moment of the betrothal ritual—the blessing bestowed by the elders.

Although the elders uttered prayers for a future queen other than Delia, they had little choice but to accept the reality before them. A handmaiden emerged, bearing a tray concealed beneath a delicate black silk veil. She approached the assembly of elders with an air of profound reverence.

Tension filled the air, suffocating each breath. All present were acutely aware of the object veiled upon that tray. It was the fabled crown, bequeathed by the Moon Goddess herself, an heirloom passed down through generations within the royal bloodline, destined exclusively for the queen.

Elder William gracefully received the tray from the handmaiden, his attire adorned with a pristine white linen, complemented by a waist belt intricately woven with threads of gold and adorned with precious gemstones, symbolizing his esteemed status.

Another elder handed him a weighty golden scepter, embellished with a magnificent diamond of substantial size. Known as the Staff of Scars, it was rumored to be crafted from the rib of a colossal wolf, with the monumental diamond said to embody the gaze of the legendary creature. As Elder William grasped the scepter, his presence transcended the individual, embodying the collective wisdom of the entire council.

The beat of the drums reverberated through the air, gradually intensifying, creating an atmosphere of solemnity and anticipation. Two elders followed in Elder William's footsteps, ascending the towering staircase.

"Ladies and gentlemen," declared Elder William, stepping into the center, his voice resounding to reach the assembled crowd below the steps. "Today, it is my utmost privilege to announce the betrothal of our esteemed Crown Prince, Kral, to Delia of the Red Moon pack. Standing before you, I represent the revered souls of our fallen brethren, the illustrious former monarch, and beneath the watchful gaze of the Moon Goddess and our ancestral spirits, we bear witness to this sacred ceremony. Before we proceed, I shall inquire of Prince Kral."

"Prince Kral, on behalf of the will of the Moon Goddess and the royal lineage, I ask if you confirm Delia as your queen, pledging your unwavering loyalty, defending her honor, and binding your souls in a covenant until her destiny returns to the embrace of the Goddess."

Elder William turned, raising the golden scepter in his hand, its blood-red diamond gleaming like a radiant dagger poised delicately at the brow of Prince Kral.

"I confirm," Prince Kral responded in a subdued tone. He lifted his gaze, his golden eyes meeting Elder William's unwavering stare, unaffected by the mournful sighs emitted by some of the noblewomen below.

Something felt amiss. I furrowed my brow and turned my gaze towards Delia. Her expression hadn't transformed into one of excitement and joy; instead, it grew paler, tinged with a sense of unease.

"What is going through your mind, Delia?" I pondered silently.

"Very well, Delia," Elder William remained composed, retracting the golden scepter pointing towards Prince Kral, and shifting his attention to Delia on the other side. "On behalf of the Moon Goddess and the werewolf royal lineage, I inquire if you confirm Prince Kral as your husband, pledging your unwavering loyalty, defending his honor, and binding your souls in a covenant until his destiny returns to the embrace of the Goddess."

Silence ensued.

An unsettling silence.

Delia's complexion turned even paler, her once rosy lips resembling a wilted flower. She quivered, her lips trembling, her gaze cast downward, her fluttering eyelashes resembling startled butterfly wings. Yet, this couldn't conceal the astonishing truth—she still hadn't spoken those crucial words.

The vows taken under the watchful gaze of the Moon Goddess were sacred and immutable. Betraying them incurred the wrath of the Moon Goddess. That was why werewolves never made vows lightly.

Delia's response to the vows stirred whispers among the crowd. Numerous eyes filled with astonishment, doubt, amusement, and anger almost overwhelmed Delia. But the most disturbed individual was undoubtedly Prince Kral.

Prince Kral squinted his eyes. His once calm and composed face now twitched, displaying a mix of astonishment and anger. The onlookers below the steps witnessed Delia's hesitation, and in disbelief, I thought, "Delia, are you really going to reject him at this crucial moment of your engagement?"

I couldn't bear to imagine the consequences if such a situation were to unfold. Prince Kral would surely erupt in a fit of rage, and he was already showing signs of it.

'Damn it, say yes to him, Delia! Hurry, say yes!'

I almost shouted inwardly.

Fortunately, things didn't take a turn for the worst, as I had feared. Delia finally responded in a soft voice, "I confirm."

Her voice was fragile yet determined, reaching the ears of the people around.

Oh, my Moon Goddess. The tension that had gripped my nerves finally eased, and the nobles ceased their murmurs, restoring silence to the temple.

Elder William chose not to remark on Delia's silence. After a brief pause, he handed the scepter to the elder behind him and lifted the veiled glass tray.

"So," he unveiled the black silk cloth, revealing the resplendent crown to the mesmerized onlookers. "I bestow upon you this Queen's Crown, affirming your honor. You are the chosen future queen, destined to wed the prince."

Elder William lifted the crown from the tray, an exquisite masterpiece crafted from the purest silver, adorned with the whitest gemstones, and embellished with radiant diamonds and moonstones. At its pinnacle, a moonlit blue sapphire shimmered, encircled by twelve dazzling diamond stars. Silver laurel leaves elegantly entwined the crown's base, reminiscent of waves cradling luminous stars.

Such a crown surpasses our mortal craftsmanship; only the Moon Goddess could conceive such celestial beauty.

With both hands, William held the crown, poised to place it gently upon Delia's lowered head.

"Hold a moment." Prince Kral firmly grasped William's arm, an unexpected act that left the assembly wide-eyed with astonishment.

"Prince Kral?" exclaimed the elder behind William, his grip on the scepter tightening in surprise.

Heavens, I pressed my temples, a throbbing headache emerging. What is the meaning of this? First, Delia's perplexing silence, and now Kral disrupts the ceremony.

"I wish to personally crown my queen," declared Prince Kral with an air of determination. Delia, her head bowed, trembled in response. Unperturbed by the scowls from William and the other elders, as well as the disapproving whispers rippling through the nobility below, Kral swiftly seized the crown from Elder William's grasp. Though the elders glared with anger, they dared not challenge the authority emanating from Prince Kral.

"You have finished your work," he declared.

"But Your Highness, this is not in accordance with the rules," Elder William spoke in a somber tone.

"I don't see any issue," Prince Kral responded nonchalantly, casting a cold glance at the elders that reminded them of something ominous. Instantly, they lowered their heads, unwilling to speak further.

"Delia, look up and meet my gaze," Prince Kral's commanding voice compelled Delia to raise her head. Her expression clearly revealed her lack of joy or happiness.

"Delia, my queen, my wife, I shall personally crown you," Kral said, his eyes displaying both tenderness and dominance.

After a brief moment, Delia lowered her head slightly. Her delicate neck appeared like the tender stem of a flower. Prince Kral gently placed the resplendent crown upon Delia's head.

In the next instant, Delia found herself embraced by Prince Kral.

Meanwhile, through the towering windows of the hall, the nobles witnessed a magnificent display of fireworks illuminating the skies beyond the temple. They burst into applause, and the music transformed into a lively and joyous tune. Amidst the exuberant celebration, no one took notice of the intrusion of shadowy figures that surreptitiously infiltrated the festivities.

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