This Enchanting New World

Chapter 28

That night, I found myself in a majestic cathedral. Quartz pillars lined the pearlescent walls and wrought-iron candleholders were alight. Blue and black streamers hung from the immense ceiling, tied together in an intricate spiderweb, and I was showered with black dahlias, bluebells, and white roses.

And then, stifling a cry of shock, I saw the most awe-inspiring sight of all. The walls were made entirely of mirrors, and I saw myself reflected in every surface.

I wore my midnight-blue tendrils of hair coiffed into a tight bun, with the most unruly strands styled into swirls or crowns atop my head. The only thing holding it all together was a delicate hairnet, each intricate string as silver and lightweight as spider silk and sprinkled with sapphires and diamonds (white and pink), giving myself a fierce and yet stately appearance. I wore sapphire earrings that dripped blue fire.

My floor-length skirt was made of thousands of swaths of overlapping brocade, in a mesmerizing black, layered with spills of fabric the color of bat orchids, and finally an overlay in a brilliant cobalt. Silver lace ran up the bustline and arched over my shoulders, and I wore a simple black patent leather bodice on top that shimmered in the light of the mirrors.

Sapphire, magenta, and fire shone and danced on the walls like a kaleidoscope.

At first I thought I looked utterly ridiculous, in an extravagant, excessive fashion, but as I moved around, I noticed that the fabric of my skirt exploded and swirled around me like a cloud of smoke.

It was utterly perfect.

Then I realized that this was my coronation. Calahan, Dizzy, Goth, Uma, Mal...everyone I knew, plus the entire population of Andalasia, was here for me, waiting in their polished wood pews for me to walk down the aisle.

I was about to be crowned a queen.

So, without needing a prompt, I walked down the aisle like I was walking on air, my skirts flaring and billowing with my every step, a shimmering beacon of black and midnight, opulence and iridescence.

As I walked, each row of onlookers in pews bowed their heads as I passed them, like a wave rolling through the ocean.

I basked in their submission, closing my eyes to savor the moment. It was glorious. The land was mine. Everything was mine.

I stepped tentatively onto a vast stage, on which stood a podium and a man of about twenty-one, wearing a black cape over a velvet doublet inlaid with a huge sapphire. His cape was clasped together with a brooch that was engraved in gold with "MASTER OF CEREMONIES."

The crowd went silent.

"Do you swear on the blood of the dragon that you shall uphold the spirit of Andalasia, provide light in times of darkness, and come to conclusions with patience and foresight?," he questioned in a regal, crisp accent.

"I do," I promised, hoping it was true.

"Do you swear on the blood of the dragon that you shall rule for your people and your kingdom?," he continued.

"I do," I said clearly.

"Then by any and all means necessary, I present to you all Queen Clarissa of Andalasia!," he proudly proclaimed, tapping each of my lace-covered shoulders with a sword and placing my mother's crown out of a plexiglass case and onto my head. It sat comfortably around my bun, as if it had been meant for my head alone all along.

The crowd rose and sank into a deep kneel. "Queen Clarissa of Andalasia," they repeated in unison. My eyes shone like living flame and my cheeks glowed with happiness. This was what I was destined for, and now it was mine forever. I wasn't meant  to be pushed down, mocked, and mistreated. I was meant for people to bow at and kiss my feet, to await my command, to make way for me, and to work hard to get on my good side. I was a queen now, and as a queen I would never be treated the way I was on the Isle ever again. It was infuriating, to have no one pay attention to you, as if you don't even exist.