Claimed By The Tyrant King

The bells of Eryndor rang heavily through the palace that morning, echoing across the kingdom as servants moved about quietly preparing everything for the coronation.

Unlike festivals and celebrations that usually filled the palace with laughter and excitement, today felt different. The atmosphere was heavy with grief because the former king had only recently been laid to rest and now the crown was already preparing to pass unto another head.

Inside his chamber, Drystan stood silently while the servants dressed him in the ceremonial robes of Eryndor. The dark material rested heavily upon his shoulders and the gold embroidery upon it gleamed faintly beneath the light coming through the windows.

He looked at his reflection for a long moment yet he hardly recognised the person staring back at him.

"Your Highness..." one of the servants called softly while fastening the last piece into place. "It is time."

Drystan nodded slowly though his chest tightened painfully. Everything had happened too quickly and now he was about to become king of Eryndor with nobody beside him.

The large palace doors opened and royal guards immediately stood in formation outside waiting for him. They all bowed their heads respectfully as Drystan stepped out and slowly began making his way towards the throne hall while the sounds of the bells continued outside.

As he walked through the long corridors, Drystan could still hear Alaric’s voice as though it was echoing between the stone walls beside him, reminding him of what this day was meant to be, because this crown was never supposed to rest on his head and Alaric was the one meant to stand at the centre of it all, while he would stand proudly beside his brother.

The large double doors of the throne hall were pushed open and the entire hall came into view. Nobles, ministers, generals and servants filled both sides of the hall while royal banners hung from the walls. At the very front stood the throne of Eryndor and for a moment, a heavy weight settled in Drystan’s chest at the sight of it because he could still picture Harold sitting there.

"Presenting His Highness, Prince Drystan of House Eryndell, rightful heir to the throne of Eryndor," the royal announcer declared loudly and immediately everyone bowed their heads as Drystan walked forward slowly upon the red carpet leading toward the throne.

The royal priest stepped forward carrying the ancient crown of Eryndor carefully upon a cushion while the hall remained completely silent.

Drystan stopped before the throne and the priest looked at him. "Do you swear before the gods and before the people of Eryndor to protect this realm, uphold justice and serve the kingdom faithfully for as long as you shall live?"

Drystan swallowed slightly before answering. "I swear it."

The priest nodded before lifting the crown carefully. The hall remained silent enough that even breathing could almost be heard and then slowly the crown was placed upon Drystan’s head.

"Long live the king," the priest declared.

Immediately the entire hall echoed with voices. "Long live the king!"

The nobles bowed lower while the guards knelt and Drystan stood there quietly, the weight of the crown resting heavily upon him as the words continued echoing through the throne hall.

Yet despite the chants and everything happening around him, his eyes unconsciously searched the crowd one last time for someone who was not there.

*****

The voices chanting "Long live the king" had barely died down when suddenly noises erupted from outside the throne hall. The guards immediately turned sharply toward the entrance as the large doors were pushed open and a man stepped inside dressed in dark travelling clothes with a sword hanging by his side.

"Stop right there!" One of the royal guards barked immediately as several swords were unsheathed at once and pointed directly toward him.

The hall fell into murmurs instantly while the man merely stood there calmly beneath the threatening blades.

Drystan’s brows furrowed in confusion from where he stood upon the throne platform and then his eyes slowly widened in complete shock as recognition hit him.

"Alaric?"

At once he descended the steps quickly while disbelief spread across his face. The moment he got close enough to truly see him, relief immediately washed over him. "Alaric..." he repeated again almost breathlessly before pulling him into an embrace without hesitation. "You’re back."

Alaric remained still for a moment before slowly returning it. "Forgive me for coming late to your coronation, your majesty," he said calmly.

Drystan pulled away immediately and frowned."You don’t need to speak to me like that," he said softly. "You’re my brother."

A faint smile touched Alaric’s lips at those words while the guards still stood tense around them.

"Your Majesty..." one of the ministers suddenly stepped forward nervously. "He cannot be allowed inside the palace."

Drystan turned in confusion. "What?"

"The former king banished Prince Alaric from Eryndor," the man explained carefully while murmurs spread through the hall again.

Drystan looked stunned as his gaze slowly shifted back toward his brother. "Banished?

"Why would father banish you?"

Alaric’s gaze lowered briefly before he answered calmly, "We disagreed on certain matters."

"That still doesn’t sound like enough reason," Drystan said with a frown.

"He only told me you left for a journey... He never said anything about banishment." His gaze lingered on Alaric as a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps their father had been livid and had lashed out at him. Harold couldn’t have meant it. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The ministers exchanged uneasy glances while the guards still looked uncertain.

"Your majesty..." another councilman started cautiously. "The decree was official. We cannot simply..."

"I am king now," Drystan cut in firmly and silence immediately fell across the hall.

"And if my brother was banished, then I revoke it from this moment onward."

The hall fell silent again.

Drystan looked back at Alaric with a smile on his face despite the emotion already gathering in his eyes.

For the first time since entering the hall, something flickered across Alaric’s gaze before he bowed his head slightly. "Thank you... Your majesty."

Then he lifted something wrapped carefully in dark cloth from behind him before extending it toward Drystan. "I brought something for you."

Drystan unwrapped it slowly and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the magnificent sword resting inside and the silver blade gleamed beneath the hall lights.

He looked at it in silence before lifting his gaze back toward Alaric. "You brought this for me?"

Alaric nodded. "A king should carry something worthy of his name."

Drystan’s expression softened immediately and his fingers tightened around it. His smile widened across his face, genuine and relieved in a way it had not been throughout the entire coronation.

He looked up at Alaric, happiness visible in his eyes because for a moment, everything felt like it used to before the crown, before the distance, before the silence between them. "We’ll spar later," he said lightly while holding the sword. "And this time I might defeat you."

Alaric chuckled faintly. "I look forward to it."

Then Drystan touched his brother’s shoulder warmly before turning toward the throne hall. "Welcome home, brother."