Azazel traveled the rest of the way on foot, keeping his feet to the winding path.

Thorny vines reached out at him as he passed, but none went beyond the threshold of the dirt road. It was not long before the young angel found himself at the entrance of the castle at the end of the path. The quartz walls loomed over him.

Azazel called out, “Knight of Thorns! I have come to speak with you!”

There was a terrible lurch, and the first portcullis raised. Then the second beyond that. And then the third. Between each portcullis was a deep pit, leading down into blackness. Before Azazel’s eyes, wooden bridges rose up to provide a walkway across.

The voice from within the castle rang out, “Enter.”

Azazel walked the bridges across the great chasms through the narrow gatehouse. He pulled in his wings so that they would not hit the walls, upon which he saw hooked barbs.

Upon making it through the gate house, he found himself standing before a great keep, in the midst of a great orchard. Trees surrounded him, each with various colors of apples growing amidst their green leaves.

The main door of the keep swung open, and out walked a figure in a suit of white armor. When the figure drew closer, Azazel saw that every inch of his body was covered in white steel. Spikes protruded from the paulrons and gorget. Upon the helmet was a mask, with a narrow slit for the wearer’s eyes. The figure carried a shield on one arm, on which was emblazoned a black rose surrounded by thorns. In the other hand, the knight held a short sword with a barbed pommel. A scarlet plume flowed down from the top of the knight’s helmet.

“Welcome,” said the figure, “As you may have guessed, I am the Knight of Thorns. Tell me who you are.”

“I… I am Azazel…” the young angel stammered, then puffed up his chest and straightened his back. “King Ozz. The gods have chosen me to rule Tir Shazelle.”

“Many have made such a bold claim,” said the Knight of Thorns, his posture and tone unreadable. “And most have proven themselves liars. Yes, even angels have proven false, and I have slain them.”

Azazel scoffed. “You have slain angels who claimed to be kings? Come now! The last time an angel was sent to rule Tir Shazelle must have been…”

“Ten years ago,” the Knight of Thorns interrupted. “Or, at least, that’s the last time an angel came to claim the gods wished him to be our king. I traveled with him, and soon saw that he was foolish and selfish. I challenged this pretender and killed him in single combat.”

Azazel gasped. There have been others? More than my mentors spoke of? They must have been fallen… no wonder these people are so wary of a stranger claiming the crown…

“And before that,” continued the Knight of Thorns, “there was a pretender thirty years ago. Before her one-hundred years ago. Both of them I slew in single combat.”

“That’s impossible!” said Azazel. “No human can live so long!”

“You are partially correct,” said the Knight of Thorns. He sheathed his blade and lifted his helmet to reveal no head underneath, only a void where his head should have been.

Azazel craned his neck to look inside, and the armor itself appeared hollow. “What? Then… you’re…”

“Bound by oath,” said the Knight of Thorns. “An oath to never let the land of Tir Shazelle fall into the hands of pretenders or tyrants. No king shall rule Tir Shazelle unless I am certain he is worthy. What was it you said your name was, again? Ozz? Tell me, Ozz, what is a king?”

Azazel stared in silence. “I…”

“What is a king?” the Knight of Thorns repeated, this time with a little more force in his voice. “Tell me, what is a king’s most important role?”

“He’s….” Azazel thought back to his coronation ceremony with Father Jasper. What was it that he said?

“You hesitate far too much,” said the Knight of Thorns. “How can you be king if you will not make a decision?” The knight’s steel gauntlet hovered over the hilt of his sword.

“A servant!” Azazel blurted out. “A king is a servant first and foremost!”

The knight’s fingers closed around the hilt. “And what does that mean? SPEAK QUICKLY!”

“He puts the people’s needs first! Before his own!” Azazel racked his brain, thinking back to all his lessons about human history and the many rulers Seth, the god of justice, had supported in the past. “He is a sacrifice for their well-being. He suffers so they will have joy. He endures harm so that they will be safe. He shows mercy to the repentant and punishment to the arrogant. He has in his heart the justice of Seth, the love of Ashtoreth, the courage of Montu, the wisdom of Anu, and the dedication of Shun!”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before the Knight of Thorns said, “Well spoken, Ozz.” The Knight of Thorns released his fingers from the hilt of his sword and reached inside of his shield. He drew a steel circlet with a pattern of thorns and roses etched into it. “Do you know what this is?”

Azazel shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not.”

“This is the Rose Crown,” said the Knight of Thorns. “It is enchanted to sense within its wearer the attributes of a righteous king. So long as it senses that its wearer is worthy, it remains a simple crown, a symbol of his merit. However, the moment that king becomes a tyrant, neglects his responsibilities, or shows himself to become contemptable, the Rose Crown produces barbs, which pierce the wearer’s flesh.” The Knight of Thorns drew close to Azazel, his every step resounding within his hollow steel body. “I hereby give to you the Rose Crown. For as long as the crown remains as it is now, I shall serve you as my king. But the moment I see blood upon your brow, or that I see you without it any place other than your own bedroom, I shall slay you where you stand. Do you accept these terms?”

Azazel stared at the circlet as if it were an asp offered as a gift. Just the previous night he had disappointed the people of Duncaster, and they denied that he was their king. Would the Rose Crown judge him just as guilty?

“If you do not take the Rose Crown,” said the Knight of Thorns, “then I will never accept you as king, and if you manage to build your kingdom without me then I will tear it down. These are not just my terms of service, these are my terms of peace.”

Azazel closed his eyes, Seth, please help me to be just. Anu, please help me to be wise, and reached out to take the circlet. He raised the crown above his head, took a deep breath, and slowly brought it down around his temples.

Both Azazel and the Knight of Thorns stood in silent anticipation for five seconds.

When the Rose Crown did nothing, the Knight of Thorns dropped to one knee. “For as long as that crown deems you worthy, I swear to serve as your knight. I will be loyal to you, as long as you are loyal to the people of Tir Shazelle.”