Cold.

The carriage was an iron box, shielded from the wind, with just enough air-flow to breathe. And yet the air seemed cold as ice.

The silence between Azazel and Calimei sucked the life out of that small space between them. So many times Azazel had imagined his reunion with his lady. He fantasized about kissing her soft lips, clasping her hands in his own, and smelling her hair. Now, here she was, sitting with her knees touching his own, and he couldn’t bring himself to seek any kind of closeness with her.

Was it that her betrayal had hurt him so? Or was it simply that after Neji’s betrayal he couldn’t trust anyone anymore?

Now and then, Calimei would reach out for his hand, and he would flinch just as their fingers touched.

Shortly after the few rays of sunlight left no longer shone into the carriage, Azazel heard a sound like waves crashing onto a seashore. No, the pitch was higher than that, and accompanied by whistles.

Calimei looked just as confused for a moment, until a knowing grin took its place on her lips. “Word has sssspread,” she muttered.

“Word has spread? What word?” Azazel asked.

Calimei shrugged, her knowing grin never leaving her lips.

Soon, the sound like roaring waves surrounded the carriage.

“What’s going on?” Azazel asked as he tried to peer through the tiny window slits.

Lady Calimei reached over to a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled it, causing the window slits to open a little wider. Through the gaps, Azazel saw cheerful faces pass by. Young and old, male and female, common and wealthy.

“Stop the carriage!” he called out.

“They c-c-can’t hear us,” said Calimei.

Azazel threw open the door and called out again, “Stop the carriage!”

The sudden jolt as the driver pulled the reins sent Azazel tumbling out of the carriage and onto the dirt pathway below.

But the sound all around him was applause.

With groans of pain, drowned out by the sounds of the cheering crowd, Azazel rose to his feet and looked upon the faces of a multitude of his subjects. They clapped their hands, whistled, shouted, and, most of all, smiled at him with pride in their eyes.

“Your majesty!”

“Long live the king!”

“King Ozz!”

And the men among the crowd chanted, “King Ozz!” over and over in a low-pitched tone. They pumped their fists into the air, and the young men danced, spun, and jumped around.

Zale’s breath on his ear startled Azazel when she whispered, “They must’ve heard about what you did in Godsmouth.”

Did Azazel dare to smile? Everything around him had gone so wrong for so long, it seemed almost absurd that something had actually gone right. The same people who laughed when he announced himself a king now voiced their wish that he would reign over them forever.

He wasn’t sure if this was Seth’s system of karma rewarding him for his good deeds, one of the gods blessing him with success, or simple random chance working in his favor. Part of him wanted to believe he’d simply earned this, but in his studies he’d learned of many people who did much more than he had and never saw the thanks of the common people.

Just beyond the rows of people on their feet on either side of the road, Azazel saw the Knight of Thorns in his saddle. The crowd parted as this ancient hero rode up to the angel king, with something silver in his gauntlet.

When the Knight of Thorns drew close, he dismounted from his horse and approached Azazel. The crowd fell quiet, each face looking on with joy and anticipation.

The Knight of Thorns stared at Azazel for a moment, the front of his visor as unreadable and mysterious as ever. He took a knee before Azazel, bowed his helmet, and held up for his king to take the Rose Crown.

I must have lost that when the dogs attacked me...

Azazel slowly took the crown from the knight’s gauntlets. His eyes scanned the crowd, and everyone present silently urged him to wear the crown, their eyes communicating their will so plainly. With some hesitance, Azazel raised the crown and placed it upon his brow. It was cold on his stinging forehead, but the chill was soothing.

The Knight of Thorns drew his sword and rose to his feet, holding his sword up high for all to see. “Before all these witnesses,” he shouted, his voice a metallic echo, “I swear my sword to King Azazel’s service. Long may he reign!”

“Long may he reign!”

“Long may he reign!”

“Long may he reign!”