Heaven Can't Wait ۞ Baldwin IV

XIII- Fanfare du Coronement

this chapt contains slightly tmi conversations

In the waning light of the nuptial mass, as the rite melted into the promised coronation, Guillaume first needed a pause to turn and wipe away spilt tears along the cuff of his vestments. Valentia threw a tender glance at her husband, the King, who kept cursing his inability to correspond her gentle expressions.

Valentia was bid to kneel once more—just her, as Baudouin now only had to oversee the proclamation of his lawful queen. It mattered little if any at all, that it was not the Patriarch to anoint her. Guillaume held the highest legitimacy in this regard, to him. Because it was clear in his clear eyes; the archbishop had the conscience to know why he was doing this—why grant a perfectly healthy woman to an unhealthy king. Why allow the slim chance for a fruit to grow from them both—even when most already feared it to be a rotten fruit.

"Do you hereby swear to look over the people, be the comfort and right hand to your King, preserve the security granted by his might and benevolence, and ensure the future of his Kingdom as his Queen Consort?" The archbishop in question asked her.

"I do swear it." Saying this cast a deceitful crack in her soul. Ensure it? With me, nothing will be sure other than my willpower to try. "I swear to be his reliable co-ruler and walk beside every step he takes. So help me God."

While Valentia held another gaze with Baudouin, Josselin removed her taounza, masterfully managing not to make its coins cause a ruckus. The anointing oils on Guillaume's fingers grazed the top of her head and her forehead, and a stream continued down her cheek, allowing her to catch the scent of it; it smelled just like the olive tree in the courtyard, with perhaps, a drop of Heaven.

An additional ring was added to her fingers; the ring of the queen. An incomplete signet, to be engraved further once her rule was fully established.

And then, finally, the heaviness of what could be nothing else but the crown was added with extreme, careful reverence under the blessed observance of the King, whose chin was tilted upward and eyes hooded with pride. The crown was embellished with the same flowers as in Baudouin's, and small crosses interspersed, all coated by pearls, and the inside padded in red kutuf for comfort.

"By Divine Grace, by the union sealed before God this day... Lluna, daughter of Emir Al Mualim of the Emirate of Balansiyyah, Alzira, and Mursiyyah in the Caliphate of Al-Andalus, we declare you:

Queen of Ierusalem."

Following that, the cushioned throne accommodated the new queen without question, where she held the scepter and the ornate orb bestowed by Josselin, once more.

Yet, to Baudouin, the image, however mesmerizing, left him wishful for another vision of her, one in a manner that few women were to be regarded in.

With the warning of a swishing sound, he unsheathed his sword, and standing before Lluna, he interchanged it for the scepter in her grasp. Wide-eyed, Valentia felt the weight of the intimidating metal descend on her palm with his care.

An accidental, heavy twirl within the dark brown leather-clad and golden-rimmed grip in her nervous grasp, revealed the circular golden pommel to brandish both of his seals; the Angevin flower, and the crosses of the realm. Past a slightly curved guard inscribed in delicate forms, the blade's fuller also bore inscriptions; a peaceful Latin phrase shared out between both sides.