It was September the twenty-third.
Every member of the nobility was gathered in the throne room of the Diamond Palace today, summoned by the imperial family for a momentous occasion. They stood in perfect columns on either side of the red carpet leading up to the throne, their expressions solemn, eyes firmly fixed on the foot of the dais. It was there that I knelt before my father and mother, both sitting regally before me upon their thrones.
“Gilbert Ruby Martinez,” Father’s voice boomed. “I hereby declare you heir to the throne and bestow upon you the title of crown prince. May you strive each day to become a worthy ruler.”
With those words, he held out a sapphire-inlaid crown towards me. The regal set of his features as he performed this solemn ceremony overshadowed every other aspect of his nature. The warmth and boisterousness that usually radiated from him as my father were nowhere to be seen; instead, he seemed almost divine, like a holy presence descended from above the clouds.
When I thought about the fact that this was the dignity, the sort of presence, that I needed to aspire to achieve in my new role, my body stiffened, nerves jolting through me at the enormity of the task ahead. Could I truly transform myself in the years, perhaps decades, that lay before me? As I knelt there, my father seemed to take on a whole new persona in my eyes. He loomed high above me, like an insurmountable wall—yet I knew that it was one that I had to overcome, no matter the cost.
Indeed, determination burned bright within me. It cast away the darkness, illuminating the path forward. “I humbly accept the title of crown prince,” I replied, letting my voice carry the confidence I felt. “As your descendant, I shall conduct myself with honor, striving each day to become the shining sun that will illuminate the future of our empire.”
With these words spoken, I lowered my head, and my father placed the crown upon it. It was heavy, as if it were weighed down with each and every expectation and responsibility of the crown prince. Yet even as I felt its weight, I knew this crown was not nearly as heavy as the ruby-inlaid imperial diadem, passed down through my family for generations.
The emperor took my hand, and with a firm tug he pulled me to my feet. Then, with a voice like thunder, he proclaimed to the nobles... No, to the people of the empire: “Everyone, witness the birth of an heir—the dawn of a new age of our glorious empire. Now, rejoice!”
At once, the hall exploded into applause. Cheers of well-wishes and prayers echoed from wall to wall. A muted roar reached us even from beyond the grand windows—the citizenry was cheering me on, watching the proceedings through the magical instruments broadcasting the event for all to see. The mood was as celebratory as it had been during Noel, with fireworks launching into the air, painting the sky in vibrant colors—a fitting backdrop to the smiles that sparkled all around me.
“Thank you, everyone,” I replied, a smile of my own creeping onto my face. “I shall endeavor to be the ruler you all believe me to be.”
In that moment, it felt as though I had the wholehearted support of the entire empire, a force so powerful that I felt as if I could conquer any challenge, vanquish any foe. I knew then that whenever I faced adversity in the future, all I would need to do was recall this moment, and it would grant me the strength to overcome any obstacle. Brimming with a newfound courage, I stared straight ahead—my gaze fixed on the bright future of this empire. I made a solemn vow to myself: this empire, as it is in this moment, will be the worst it shall ever be. From this day forward, it will only grow stronger, more prosperous.
As I made this lofty vow, my father raised a hand, signaling for the applause to quiet. The double doors creaked open, revealing the leader of our church, the high pontiff himself, Melvin Clark White. Clad in his ceremonial attire, he proceeded with slow, measured steps down the red carpet.
Utterly heedless of the flabbergasted stares of the gathered nobility, His Holiness continued his approach until he stood before the dais. Then, with a graceful bow, he knelt before us. “To the future ruler of this grand empire, I have come to bestow the blessings of our Lord,” he intoned with ceremonial cadence.
A ripple of surprise spread through the audience. There was precedence for the high pontiff to give a congratulatory address at the coronation of a new emperor, but to give one at the investiture of the acknowledged heir was exceedingly rare. Considering that in all the empire’s history, the same thing had perhaps happened twice, the general amazement was well warranted.
This little piece of ecclesiastical theater had, of course, been prearranged, all part of our plan to demonstrate the strong relationship between the imperial family and the church. I couldn’t help but smile at how effective our little display proved to be—no doubt this would be a significant boost to my legitimacy in the eyes of the people. Pragmatism aside, however, the appearance of His Holiness on this day was significant to me for a very different reason. Before Carolina, he had been the one who had seen me through the worst days of my illness. Without him, I would not have made it to this moment. To have him here, at the culmination of all of our efforts, felt not only right but necessary, and I was glad beyond words that he had accepted the invitation. As I stood there, my eyes narrowing in gratitude, memories of those dark days at the height of my illness flooded my mind—days that had crushed not only my body but my spirit. The pain and despair had been overwhelming, yet the high pontiff had been my steadfast beacon, guiding me through the storm.
Next to me, my father stooped down and offered his hand to the high pontiff. “You have my gratitude, Your Holiness. Please join us in celebration.”
“I will, Your Majesty,” the high pontiff replied, accepting my father’s hand as he rose to his feet. He looked at me, and when I saw that same tender, reassuring gaze I had known for more than a decade, I felt the sudden urge to weep.
“Gilbert Ruby Martinez,” the high pontiff began, his voice deliberate and resonant, each syllable imbued with profound significance. “From the tender days of your youth, I have watched you blossom from a boy of kindness and wit into a man of wisdom and compassion. If you hold fast to these virtues, if you uplift the downtrodden and stand firm beside the mighty, your reign shall be one of greatness. Therefore, let not your noble spirit falter. Take it, and wield it in service to your realm—your people—with unwavering devotion. The favor of God shall guide you, now and forevermore.”
Then his solemn expression softened into a smile. “Congratulations, my boy,” he added. And with that, he bowed deeply before me.
Again, the audience erupted into applause, this time more exuberant and less restrained. The thunderous cheers seemed to wash over the high pontiff, yet he remained composed, slowly raising his head to meet my gaze. There were glimmers of joyful tears in his eyes, and a palpable sense of relief radiated from him, as though a heavy burden he had carried for years had finally been lifted.
“Seeing you stand here today, receiving this honor, fulfills one of the greatest hopes of my life,” he said, his voice barely audible over the clamor. “Now, I can depart this world without any regrets.”
At his words, I smiled, though with a touch of sadness. “Please don’t say such solemn things! I still need you, Your Holiness—for a long time yet.” After assuring him that his charge was yet unfinished, I gently took his hand and cradled it between my own. It was perhaps a self-indulgent wish to insist that he remain by my side, especially considering his age, but I couldn’t help it—I truly felt that way.
His Holiness just chuckled softly at my childlike plea. “All right, Your Highness. I suppose I’ll stick around for just a little while longer.” He playfully shrugged his shoulders to punctuate his reply. Then he placed his hands over mine, and my eyes narrowed with pleasure in response to his warmth, his love.
“Thank you, Your Holiness. Stay with me, and witness the world I will build with your own eyes,” I said.
With that promise of a brighter future, I couldn’t help but break out into a broad and carefree grin.