Free Web NovelChapter 178: Renewal
Chapter 177: Renewal
Lyria’s POV
The hall did not resemble what it had been before.
It was the first thing I noticed as I stepped within.
The arrangement had changed entirely.
My steps slowed just slightly as I took it in.
At the far end of the hall, elevated upon a carefully adorned dais, sat the King and Queen.
Directly beneath them were two seats, both opposite each other.
One was already occupied. Jacinta was already seated.
Her posture was flawless, as it always was when she knew she was being watched. Her sunflower-coloured gown caught the light in such a way that it seemed almost designed to draw the eye whether one wished it or not. Her blonde hair had been arranged into an intricate updo, each strand placed with precision that bordered on calculation.
She looked... radiant, and she also looked at me.
The moment our gazes met, the expression she offered was not subtle. She fixed me with a glare. fгeewebnovёl.com
For a single breath I held it before I looked away.
I moved forward without acknowledging her further, as though she were nothing more than another fixture of the room—no more significant than the chairs or the polished floor beneath my feet.
If she noticed, she gave no outward sign.
But I could feel it.
The way her gaze lingered.
The way it followed me until I reached the seat opposite her and lowered myself with care, smoothing the fabric of my gown as I did so. I wore a light purple gown. The colour felt... softer, quieter, as though it stood in deliberate contrast to hers.
My hands settled neatly upon my lap.
And then I observed the hall, letting Jacinta continue her incessant glare.
The hall stretched outward in two long rows.
Tables had been arranged facing one another, forming a corridor of sorts between them. At each table stood a suitor candidate—seven to the left, seven to the right—each positioned with a precision that mirrored the rest of the hall’s careful design.
Parchment lay before them, and pens rested neatly beside each sheet.
No ink had yet been disturbed.
No words had yet been written.
They all stood, waiting.
I let my gaze move across them slowly.
Duke Thorncrest stood among them, his posture relaxed in a way that somehow did not violate the formality of the space. Nearby, Baron Redwick stood with his usual composure, spectacles resting lightly upon his nose as his gaze remained forward, unreadable.
Earl Hawthorne looked... as though he would rather be anywhere else.
And then, my eyes settled briefly upon Duke Valenridge.
He stood directly opposite Duke Aurelgrave.
The difference between them was... striking. And yet, neither appeared unsettled.
My gaze shifted away before it could linger too long.
At the far end of the hall, Lady Mirelle stood with several attendants, her attention fixed upon the scrying veil. There was a quiet efficiency in the way they moved—adjusting, checking, ensuring that everything functioned precisely as intended.
Nothing in this hall had been left to chance.
There was silence, and then the King rose.
The movement alone was enough to draw every eye.
He stood tall upon the dais, his presence commanding without the need for effort. When he spoke, his voice carried easily through the hall.
"Esteemed guests," he began, his gaze sweeping across the gathered assembly, "nobles of the court, honoured observers, people of the kingdom, and those who stand before us as candidates within this most significant undertaking..."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
"It is with great anticipation that we reconvene under these circumstances. As you are all aware, the proceedings we begin today mark not a continuation, but a renewal."
His hands rested lightly behind his back.
"The competition, in its former state, has been set aside. What stands before us now is its true commencement—the first official trial through which we shall begin to discern that which has long been foretold."
"The Moon of the kingdom," he continued, "is not merely a title to be claimed, nor a position to be adorned. It is a calling, one that demands not only presence, but understanding. Not only grace, but depth."
His gaze lowered slightly to his daughter.
"Thus, it is only fitting that those who seek to stand beside her—those who would claim the right to such proximity—must first demonstrate their ability to perceive, to interpret, and to express." freёwebnoѵel.com
He paused once more and then spoke again.
"The nature of today’s trial has already reached your ears."
His lips curved faintly, though there was little warmth in it.
"A poetry competition."
The word settled within the hall.
"The task itself is simple," the King continued. "And yet, simplicity, as we know, often reveals far more than complexity ever could."
His gaze shifted toward the suitor candidates.
"You are to compose an original piece, unborrowed, and entirely your own, upon a singular theme: home."
"You are to write," he said, "not merely what home is, but what it means. What it evokes. What it becomes when placed before the one who is meant to embody the Moon."
His tone deepened slightly.
"Your words must resonate with truth, with understanding. And above all—with sincerity."
Silence followed.
Then he straightened slightly.
"And as this marks the beginning of our renewed proceedings," he said, "it is only proper that we invite the blessings of the goddess."
His gaze lifted.
"The High Priestess shall now offer her prayer."
A shift followed then, and from where she had been seated, Lady Seraphine rose.
She moved forward without haste.
There was something about her that I did not like.
It was like her attention did not belong entirely to the hall she occupied.
Her pale robes, threaded delicately with silver, seemed to catch the light without effort. Her hands remained lightly folded before her as she came to a stop, her gaze lifting—not toward us, but somewhere beyond.
When she spoke, her voice was soft, yet it carried through the hall.
"Great Goddess," she said, "whose light guides what mortal sight cannot see..."
"We stand at the threshold of revelation," she continued. "At the beginning of a path that leads not by chance, but by design."
Her hands lifted slightly.
"Bless this gathering. Guide these hearts. Steady these minds. Let truth find its voice where words are written."
Her gaze lowered faintly.
"And when the final moment comes... when the trials are complete and the veil is lifted..."
Her voice softened further.
"May we recognise your chosen one. The Moon who stands as your reflection. The sun who assists her. And may she be led safely into the place prepared for her."
Then, just as quietly as she had stepped forward, she inclined her head and withdrew.
I watched her for a moment longer than I intended. And then I turned, and my gaze locked with Duke Thorncrest, who stared at Lady Seraphine with obvious disgust, but in the blink of an eye it was gone.
