Claimed By The Tyrant King

The hall of Eryndor stood in solemn silence as it prepared to witness the beginning of a new reign.

Nothing about the air felt celebratory in the way it once might have. The weight of what had come before still lingered in every corner of the palace where betrayal had once been exposed and a king had fallen.

Nobles filled the grand chamber in arranged rows, their expressions restrained while guards lined the walls in disciplined stillness, no longer divided by allegiance but unified under the promise of a restored crown.

Rowan stood at the base of the raised platform, dressed in royal garments that felt heavier than anything he had remembered wearing. It was not because of fabric or gold but because of what they represented, and as he lifted his gaze across the hall, all he could see was expectation, duty, and silence that pressed against him from all sides.

The high priest stepped forward slowly, holding the crown of Eryndor with both hands as it carried the entire weight of the kingdom itself, and when he spoke his voice echoed through the hall with deliberate finality as ancient words of succession were spoken, binding the crown not just to blood but to burden.

Rowan then stepped forward and the entire hall seemed to hold its breath as he knelt in acceptance of the responsibility being placed upon him.

As the crown was lowered onto his head, the weight of it settled like stone against his thoughts.

Silence followed the act, deeper than any applause or cheers, as if the kingdom itself was waiting to see what kind of king would rise from everything that had broken before him.

Rowan closed his eyes for only a second before opening them again with composure.

When he rose, the nobles bowed, one after another, until the entire hall acknowledged him as their king.

Still, Rowan did not allow himself to be consumed by the moment as there was still too much unsettled within him, too many fractures that no crown could immediately heal.

His gaze shifted slightly, and Cedric stepped forward from the gathered ranks, his presence steady and grounded in contrast to the tension that still lingered in the hall, and when he reached the base of the throne platform, he bowed deeply, awaiting judgment or instruction.

Rowan spoke without hesitation. "Cedric," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the hall, "you have stood by me when it would have been easier to turn away, and you have proven your loyalty not through words but through action, therefore from this moment onward, I appoint you as Captain of my Royal Guard."

A ripple moved through the hall at the announcement.

Those present immediately understood what it meant for Cedric to be placed so close to the king, and Cedric himself lifted his head slowly, his expression firm as he accepted the responsibility.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I swear to protect and serve you for the rest of my life" he said with a steady bow.

In that moment, his allegiance was sealed by trust that had been earned through everything they had endured.

Rowan turned slightly then, stepping forward as the hall quieted once more, and when he spoke again his voice no longer belonged only to a man but to a ruler who now carried the weight of an entire kingdom.

"Eryndor has endured betrayal, silence, and the fall of its own crown," Rowan began, his tone firm yet measured as he looked across the hall, meeting the eyes of nobles, soldiers, and advisors alike, "and I will not pretend that what has happened can be undone. The past cannot be erased, but what we choose to build from this moment forward will determine whether we remain a broken kingdom or become one that learns from its ruin."

He paused briefly, allowing the words to settle into the silence before continuing. "I do not stand before you as a king who claims perfection," he said, "but as one who understands loss, responsibility, and consequence, and I will rule with the intention that no voice in this kingdom will be ignored, no injustice will be repeated without answer, and no loyalty will be taken for granted."

His gaze hardened slightly in resolve. "This crown is not a symbol of power alone," he continued, "it is a promise that Eryndor will not fall into deception again under my watch, and that the truth, however painful, will always take precedence over comfort."

A heavy silence followed his words once more, and slowly, as if responding to something unspoken, the hall bowed again in acknowledgment.

Rowan stood still as it happened, the crown set into place, and though the weight of it did not lessen, he accepted it fully.

As the echoes of loyalty filled the hall, the reign of Rowan, King of Eryndor, began.

****

Meanwhile in Merovia...

Rosalind blinked at the man who had just introduced himself to her, her mind briefly struggling between recognition and uncertainty.

How was she was supposed to explain that parts of her memory were returning only in fragments, yet she still chose to respond calmly, "Yes, Nathan, I do remember you," though inwardly she bit her inner cheek.

"That’s good to hear," Nathan smiled widely at her.

Before she could fully process his movement, he had already pulled her into a hug, leaving Rosalind frozen in place as surprise overtook her senses.

"We shared lots of hugs when we were children," he added lightly as if it were the most natural explanation in the world.

Although Rosalind’s initial shock slowly softened into a faint smile.

The man stood noticeably taller than her, with blonde hair and striking green eyes that carried a charm she could not ignore.

By the way he was dressed, she could immediately tell he was no ordinary noble, even if she could not yet place his exact rank.

It was only when her brother Marek joined the conversation that clarity finally came, as he casually remarked, "Duke of the North, it is good you’ve decided to join us today," while handing Nathan a drink and clinking glasses with him.

So he was the duke, she noted to herself.

"How could I possibly miss my best friend’s welcome ceremony?" Nathan asked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

He turned his attention back to Rosalind, his tone carrying both ease and familiarity that only deepened her confusion.

They were childhood best friends... the realization only settled slowly.

she could not fully grasp the connection as her fragmented memories continued to blur the past she was still trying to recover.

Yet being back in the palace for several days had already begun to trigger pieces of her forgotten life, flashes of herself running through palace grounds while her mother called after her to slow down before she hurt herself, moments of laughter while playing with Rama, memories of her elder brother and countless other fragments that were slowly returning.

"...Is she just your best friend or something else?" Marek teased lightly.

Though Rosalind remained distant in her thoughts and barely registered the shift in tone around her.

Nathan’s eyes widened slightly at the remark before Marek quickly said, "I remember you panicking a lot when she went missing, you searched everywhere for her."

"That was because she’s my best friend," Nathan replied immediately, trying to brush it off as though it meant nothing more than loyalty, "you wouldn’t expect me to do nothing."

"Huh, huh..." Marek, already slightly intoxicated, clearly had no intention of letting it go.

"You’re still as annoying as ever," Nathan muttered with a faint frown, though it lacked real hostility.

Then his attention returned to Rosalind as he asked more gently, "Are we making you feel left out?"

Rosalind blinked as though pulled out of a distant thought, "No... not at all, why don’t you both enjoy each other’s company?" she replied with a polite smile before quietly finding her way out of there.

"Don’t you think something is wrong with her?" Nathan murmured after she left, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her retreating figure,

"she isn’t as... enthusiastic around me like she used to be."

"Did you tell her anything?" he asked, shifting his gaze toward Marek with sudden suspicion.

"What?" Marek replied lazily.

Nathan sighed, "Nothing."

Marek scoffed in return, slightly amused, "Look at you, if you have feelings you should probably say them quickly... there’s this guy back in Eryndor who likes her too, not that you’d stand a chance, but you can try," he added with a careless chuckle.

Nathan’s expression darkened slightly as annoyance settled in, and he pushed Marek away while Marek stumbled lightly, laughing to himself as others nearby quickly gave him space. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Meanwhile, Rosalind stood alone away from the celebration as the night deepened.

Although, she had genuinely enjoyed the warmth of the evening, she could not explain why she suddenly needed silence more than company.

Her gaze drifted downward to the white envelope in her hands, and she let out a quiet sigh, it was probably because of this, she thought to herself.

She wondered whether she should open it or not, whether she was ready to read whatever Rowan had written,

What could Rowan possibly have written, she scoffed inwardly.

The man could barely express his emotions properly, so what could he have possibly managed to put on paper?

And yet, something deep within her acknowledged the effort, because knowing him, he would have kept everything bottled up until it consumed him completely rather than letting anything out at all.

Rosalind finally decided to read it, or at least just take a small peek, she told herself as she carefully prepared to open the envelope.

"Sophia?"

The voice startled her so suddenly that she gasped, her hand instinctively freezing mid-motion as she quickly turned around.

Nathan stood there behind her, watching her with mild concern, "I am sorry about that..." His voice trailed off as she steadied herself, "What are you doing here alone?" he asked quietly.

"Just taking in the scenery," she replied quickly, tucking the letter away beneath her clothes just as he stepped closer.

"You wouldn’t mind if I join you, right?" he asked.

She shook her head lightly, and he came to stand beside her as both of them looked up at the night sky filled with countless stars stretching endlessly above them.

"It’s actually been a very long while," he said softly.

"Sure has," Rosalind replied, her voice calm but distant.

"Hey," Nathan continued after a short pause, "do you mind if we hang out for a couple of days? I won’t be busy for a while, and I think it might help us recover some of our memories."

Rosalind turned to him slightly, "Memories?" she echoed, and he nodded in confirmation.

Her heart stirred faintly at the thought... if there was even a chance of recovering what she had lost, she was willing to try, so after a brief silence she answered gently, "I wouldn’t mind."