SGE-4

How Not to Throw a Coronation W35
oversized robe: a small five-pointed white star, like the ones
Merlin used to lay in tribute at his father’s tomb in Avalon.
“Strange,” Tedros said, studying it closely. “Why would one
of these be . . .”
His voice instantly amplified for miles.
The crowd gaped in astonishment, as did the chaplain, but
Tedros knew full well where such sorcery had come from.
He looked up into the big blue sky and smiled. “Thanks,
M,” he whispered.
Then he put the magic star on his shoulder so it would
broadcast him far and wide.
“Felt funny looking down at all of you without saying
hello,” he spoke, his voice resounding over the cliffs. “So, um,
hello! I’m Tedros. And welcome to the . . . show.”
Crickets.
“Right. You know who I am. Same boy who used to stand
here and fidget when my father gave speeches. Just older now.
And hopefully a bit better looking.”
A ripple of laughter.
Tedros smiled, feeling the warmth of the crowd. They
wanted to hear from him. They wanted him to do well.
He searched for Agatha below, but the sun washed out the
faces. He was so used to having his princess by his side when it
mattered. But after all they’d been through, he could feel her
inside him even when they were apart. What would she tell
him to say?
The same thing she always told him to say: the truth about
what he was feeling.