Bearing the accouterments of the ceremony and clad in his finest battle armor, King Vorenus was escorted to the Great Hall. Bands of light from the cloudy blue windows of the castle scattered across the marble floor, glimmering against his jeweled scepter and consort crown.

For an instant he raised his head and stared into the crowd of onlookers, and then he moved over to the pulpit and gazed into the mob with a commanding look. The twelve guards escorting the soon to be exiled king looked over at him as if seeing him for the first time. For the first time in his 30 years of rule, he had the look of a leader – a man whose purpose was larger than his own life.

Then, as if acknowledging their enthusiastic looks of approval, and over the loud whispers from the crowd, he raised his scepter and waved it over their heads. They cheered and began chanting his name as Anung walked up to the raised platform to join him.

“It is your hereditary right to stay,” Anung said, “call on them to rise against injustice!”