Volume 2 Chapter 28 Coronation Ceremony
Three months after Archbishop Gregorio's lessons, Eleonora sat in a carriage headed for Heian. Despite the rushed schedule, preparations were somehow completed. The repairs to the Heian Cathedral and Caesaria's outer walls had been finished just in time.
"So, who did you invite to the coronation?" she asked quietly.
Narrow answered without hesitation. "Including the Eternal Knights under the Empire's command—there are 1,273 noble families from former Loriengita, six houses allied with the Dark Elf Grand Duke, Sir Wilhelm from the royal line of the elves, Grand Duke Haral of Mandinor, and King Vladislav of Hemiboa."
Johanna, seated nearby, gently stroked Jeanne's hair as the girl slept, exhausted from the long journey. She looked up. "What about the Church?"
"Archbishop Gregorio of the Lunke Diocese will attend," Narrow said. "And also Archbishop Nebras of the Champagne Diocese."
"Who is Nebras?" Johanna asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He's known for being strict, but fair," Narrow replied, recalling the notes he had compiled earlier. "During the turmoil in Champagne, he released church resources to help civilians and farmers."
He pulled a small parchment from his pocket and handed it to Eleonora. It listed the backgrounds of both Gregorio and Nebras—short, clear, and easy to understand.
"At least they're not sending fools," she murmured.
"It's the first imperial coronation of a united empire—far grander than anything Loriengita ever had. This choice is... reasonable," Narrow replied.
Eleonora opened the carriage window and looked out. The castle walls drew closer. Newly set stone and wooden beams marked the recent repairs. Workers paving the road quickly moved aside, bowing deeply as the procession passed.
"They didn't have to go that far," she said.
"Your Majesty, your status has changed," Narrow said softly. "You're no longer just the daughter of a provincial knight..."
Eleonora shot him a look. "Even so, that's pushing it."
She shifted her gaze and pulled out a second parchment, different from the one Narrow had given her. Reading aloud, her voice was calm but distant.
"The first princess of the royal family, journeying from the Kingdom of Prester John in the East by divine revelation, passed through the Tzvinza Empire, landed in Tyria, and took up arms in righteous anger against Loriengita. With aid from the King of Tyria—who bowed to her divine light—she overthrew the empire. After a bitter civil war, seeing the suffering of the common folk, she ascended the throne to bring peace..."
"Your Majesty," Narrow said gently, "myth and mystery strengthen royal authority. Even if Prester John's kingdom exists only in legend."
"You're not going to die a peaceful death, saying things like that."
"If I fall serving Your Majesty, it will be enough," he said with a grin.
Eleonora snorted and shut the carriage window. The procession moved forward, passing through the main gates and into the cathedral grounds.
Inside the cathedral's waiting room, maids immediately began dressing her.
"Isn't this a bit too much?" Eleonora asked as they worked.
"This outfit reflects the dignity of the new Empire, Your Majesty," one of the maids replied.
It wasn't a gown. Instead, it was a sharp, officer-style ensemble—a deep purple surcoat over a red tunic, with white trousers tailored to fit perfectly. She looked more like a young commander than a royal bride.
"So, what's the ceremony schedule?"
"First, the praises," said a maid. "Then the attending kings will declare loyalty, offer the symbols of imperial authority, followed by a baptism from the Church... and finally, a banquet."
Eleonora groaned. "Is there any chance I can skip the banquet?"
"Many lords have come to meet Your Majesty," the maid replied, casually brushing aside her protest.
As the final touches were done, Eleonora's reflection appeared in the tall mirror. Her look was regal—commanding, clean, and without frills.
"Add some red to your lips," one maid suggested.
"No need," Eleonora said. "I'll go as I am."
"Oh, Your Majesty..." the maids giggled softly.
Eleonora sighed. Just a moment ago, she'd felt like pulling out her own hair. Now she had to walk like a sovereign.
"Let's just get through this," she muttered.
The heavy cathedral doors opened, pushed aside by soldiers. Eleonora stepped forward.
The lords and clergy gathered inside all bowed low.
Her custom-made boots clicked against the stone floor with each step. She walked steadily down the aisle and up the steps to the altar. When she turned, nobles and priests alike knelt before her in silence.
"Raise your faces," she said firmly.
None moved. In this tradition, lifting one's face early would be considered disgraceful.
She repeated, "Raise your faces."
At last, they obeyed.
"Let us honor our new sovereign—Lady Eleonora!" King Simeon declared.
As if on cue, the hall erupted in a chorus of praise.
"Just Ruler of Naroppa! Monarch of all races! Chosen of the gods!"
"May the Lord bless and protect our Empire!"
Eleonora raised her hand. The voices quieted.
King Simeon stepped forward, then knelt again. King Charles followed, and Queen Elodia knelt beside him.
"From the former imperial house of Loriengita," King Simeon declared, "we recognize and declare Your Majesty as the rightful ruler."
"In keeping with the transfer of nobility," said Queen Elodia, lifting a gleaming object from its case, "we present the imperial crown—once worn by Emperor Loriengita—to Your Majesty."
The throne room fell into silence as the nobles listened to King Charles's final declaration and the solemn contents of Queen Elodia's offering. With the imperial house now effectively dissolved, the gathered lords shifted their thoughts toward the uncertain future.
Though the current emperor remained in name, no real authority lingered. The nobles watched, wary and calculating, as the power of the new ruler began to take shape.
Archbishop Gregorio stepped forward, cradling the imperial crown in both hands. By tradition, the emperor would kneel, and the archbishop would place the crown upon their head.
But today, that tradition would break.
Without a word, the new emperor stepped forward and took the crown directly from the archbishop's hands. She stepped back, then raised it above her head before lowering it gently onto her own brow.
A silent defiance. A denial of divine right. A severing of ties with the church.
"The Elf King's envoy, Prince Wilhelm, presents this gift to Her Majesty the Emperor," a herald called.
Two elves emerged, carrying a wooden staff placed delicately on a silver stand. The staff, carved from a sacred tree said to be over five centuries old, gleamed with a polished crystal at its tip.
"A scepter, formed from the sacred tree and embedded with magic," Wilhelm declared. "This symbolizes the authority of the elves over all that walk the land."
Eleonora accepted the staff with her left hand and held it high before her. At once, the elves in attendance dropped to their knees in unison, their loyalty made clear without words.
"The Dark Elf Grand Duke Erika presents this to Her Majesty, the Emperor."
This time, it was a dagger—jet-black, with a silver edge and rubies set into its hilt. Its sheen shimmered with a strange light, unsettling and powerful.
"Forged from black steel, with a blood groove deepened for purpose," Erika said. "It represents our willingness to serve—and our readiness to strike down any who oppose your reign."
Eleonora accepted the blade and, with a quiet motion, secured it at her waist, the sheath settling against her robes.
"Mandinol's Grand Duke, Haral of Suno, presents to Her Majesty the Emperor."
A towering man stepped forward, holding a radiant necklace high. A diamond the size of a plum sat in the center, hammered into pure gold.
"This treasure, dredged from the deepest waters of the Eastern Sea, I offer to the strongest," Haral proclaimed. "We of Suno shall strike down fools who stand against you—with the axe!"
A fierce cry rose from his entourage—"Oh! Oh!"—startling the room. The old lords shrank back. The elves offered small, knowing smiles. Even the dwarves looked on, impressed.
"Vladislav of the Hemiboa Dwarves presents to Her Majesty the Emperor."
From his thick fingers, Vladislav held out a masterfully crafted ring—slim, flawless, and impossibly delicate for dwarven hands.
"The golden light will not fade. And the royal seal engraved here stands for fair dealings. We dwarves recognize Your Majesty—with rightful compensation."
Eleonora slipped the ring onto her right middle finger. Then, raising both arms wide, she spoke.
"By the trust of all races, I hereby declare the founding of the Holy Maro Empire."
Cheers erupted. Voices rang high—but beneath the celebration, distrust flickered in the shadows.
Eleonora's face remained calm, unreadable. She offered no glimpse of her inner thoughts.
Who here can truly be trusted? she wondered.
Are they here for peace, or for profit?
Do they serve the Empire—or only themselves?
"If you seek the throne, then take it," she whispered in her heart. "But only those who can bear its weight may dare try."
Archbishop Nebras approached, offering the blessing of the church. Eleonora gave a faint smile as she bowed her head.
"Until then," she murmured, "I will carry it alone."
* * *
"Your Majesty," said Narrow softly. "Preparations are complete for the broadcast to every city."
Eleonora turned to the large crystal that had been prepared.
"The projection will display your image and voice to the central squares in each city."
"I see."
She took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting in the crystal's glow.
Across every major city, crowds had already gathered. Soldiers kept watch over the streets. Baskets of bread were handed to those who came, easing tensions.
"What's going on?" one man whispered.
"No idea," said another. "But they're giving out food. Might as well wait."
The quiet chatter shifted as the crystal activated. Light poured forth—and a clear image of a young woman appeared above the square.
"Citizens of all cities," Eleonora's voice rang out, "I am Eleonora, the newly crowned Emperor of the Holy Maro Empire."
"The Emperor...? That girl?"
"She's so young..."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. But Eleonora continued, her tone firm and unshaken.
"With the fall of the former Loriengita Empire, security in the western region of Naroppa has collapsed. Some of you may have fled your homes after villages were destroyed."
Eyes lowered. Painful memories stirred in silence.
"I have restored peace from West Clanf to Ropsein and issued a General Peace Decree. This secures our current borders and forbids further territorial expansion—preventing the chaos of civil wars."
The decree was simple: no more conquest, no more private feuds, no more bloodshed.
"However," she went on, "many soldiers who once fought for the Empire have deserted and turned to banditry. As a result, towns and traveling merchants suffer daily attacks."
Murmurs of recognition filled the air.
"To address this, I will deploy a large-scale force to restore safety. Yet remember: these men once served our nation. Some of you may know them. They may be your neighbors. Your sons."
Her voice softened.
"So I offer them one chance. If they surrender and respond to this call, their crimes will be reduced. They will be offered honest work—and a place to belong."
Relief washed over some. Others stayed silent, uncertain.
"Now, let us turn from the past, and look to the future."
She paused.
"Is happiness merely having black bread on the table?"
"Is love just a warm bowl of soup with meat and vegetables shared with your child?"
The people pictured it: a quiet home, prayer after work, bread dipped in stew. They nodded quietly.
But Eleonora shook her head.
"No. That is not happiness. Nor is it love."
Shock rippled across the square.
"That is how life should be—every day. Such things are not luxuries. They are your right."
She extended her hand toward the crowd—toward every man, woman, and child watching.
"From now on, I will lead this Empire so that all may live such lives. But it cannot be done by my hand alone."
Her voice carried, clear and true.
"I ask you—walk with me."
Notes:
• Vladislav - The ruler of the Bearer Kingdom. His appearance is regal, with a long beard that he often ties. He is a strategic thinker, pondering the benefits and risks of alliances.
• Narrow - Male. A former Viscount's son who severed ties with his family to serve Eleonora. Wears an iron mask due to past leprosy, now cured. Skilled in military strategy, governance, theology, and heraldry. Speaks formally and is determined to prove his worth. Has a distant relationship with his family. His combat style is unknown, but he is entrusted with leading a platoon of 300 men.
• Haral - The Chief of the Suno people, a tall and imposing figure. He values strength and generosity, prioritizing land, gold, and resources for his people.
• Johanna - Silvia's new name.
• Jeanne - Female. A young girl with a lovely name. Her appearance is not described in detail, but she blushes and smiles shyly. She is the twin sister of Hugh and is expected to hear the voice of God in 8 years. Her parents were killed, and she is currently under the protection of Eleonora and Johanna.
• Rea - Wilhelm's sister.
• John - A man who follows Eleonora, previously worked in security in Japan before being reincarnated. His connection to Eleonora is that he and his group have been following her to hunt and defeat bandits.
• Simeon - The ruler of the East Clanf Kingdom. His appearance is not described, but he is portrayed as a strategic leader. He judges the benefits of expanding into the Magelun region as sufficient. His relationship with Elodia is one of opposition, as he seeks to capture her to justify his territorial ambitions.
• Charles - Male. King of the West Clanf Kingdom. He has brown skin and a regal appearance, often seen in royal attire. His speech is accented due to his southern roots. He is melancholic and pragmatic, prioritizing economic stability over territorial expansion. He has a newborn son, Arsène, and a sister, Elodia. His relationship with his lords is strained due to his passive governance.
• Elodia - The second princess of Loriengita. She has shown favor to Georges, who aims to marry her by achieving military merit.
• Erika - A dark elf (forest person) with exceptional agility and magical abilities, including silencing and invisibility magic. Her appearance is characterized by dark brown skin, ash-blond hair cut in a short bob, long ears, and red-black eyes resembling dried blood. She has a detached and playful personality, often showing amusement or indifference to conflicts. Her relationship with others is distant, though she seems to have a tribal connection with men like Klaus and Franz.
• Erik - Son of the fallen warrior Danruhav, seeking revenge and a new land, eager to prove his strength in battle.
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