The throne room hadn't changed. Craetor hadn't been in it for months, and neither had anyone else most likely. It was only used for important events like the current one or greeting and dealing with foreign ambassadors. Of course, it was rare to have an ambassador brave the harsh deserts of Faerein without some dire reasoning.
The people filled the surrounding areas and took seats on the benches provided for witnesses and guards. Only a fool would make people stand during a ceremony. This was the perfect place for an assassination, so the seated audience made it easier for guards to watch people from their own benches at the rear and front of the rest of the rest of the seats. As dictated in Galvure's Mandate, this was to be the norm.
Craetor took his place on the stairs leading up to the elevated ornate throne made of black stone. Behind it was the Mural of Sands, depicting the exodus that lead the Banished to the desert. Their leader, a man named Faerein Frae, had named the desert after himself and became the leader of his people. He promised them a paradise. Using his incredible talent with Mineral and Water Mystics, he made wells in the center of the great desert and built a kingdom around it. It is from that man that Craetor's family came. Galvure, his own mother, was Faerein's greatdaughter.
Vivola recited this, of course, before even bothering to proceed toward the Acsention Ceremony. She was still acting emotionless, so he knew the woman had a firm grip on her Void Mystic. The others in the room probably couldn't tell, aside from the confident. None of them knew her personally. Without the Void helping her drown out her feelings, the woman was very shy and rare to even talk without a good reason. But, was holding Void so long a wise idea?
"Craetor Frae," Vivola said after the story of Faerein's founding ended, "Do you swear to uphold Galvure's Mandate and serve the people of Faerein?"
Craetor started to reply with a simple promise, but he stopped himself. "I swear to serve the people of Faerein and uphold Galvure's Mandate." Several of the confident members gave Craetor a scowl, but he didn't openly react. Order was important for oaths. You upheld the first one given before any others. By trying to get him to agree to serve the Mandate first, they could use it to control him. It was a small control, but a string Craetor wouldn't risk putting around his neck.
Vivola, of course, didn't seem to care. Whether it was her innocent nature, being new to the confident, or just the Void running through her, he didn't know. He did know that the others had probably told her what to say and how to say it. There was little else that explained their scowls. "Do you swear that your duty is to this kingdom and protecting it's inhabitants?"
Again? It wasn't something too dangerous, but making his duty to the Kingdom first was dangerous. It could be interpreted in different ways. "I swear that my duty is to protect the inhabitants of this kingdom and to protect this kingdom." They could choke on that as they made their next plan.
"And do you swear to debate with the your confident before making decisions?" Vivola asked.
Craetor frowned. That wasn't the right oath. One word made that completely off. Using debate made every decision have to be debated on by the full confident. Craetor couldn't let them get this oath out of him, or he essentially lost his throne. Saeron... What would you have done in the past?
He decided what to do instantly. His brother, his old brother who had been a saint, gave him an idea. "No," Craetor said, gaining a large amount of gasps and VERY open scowls from the confident. He had to be fast with his words, though. "I swear to ask the opinions of my confident before making decisions." Craetor knew he should have left it at that, but he continued and even stood up and turned to his people as he did. "In times, especially the upcoming war-times, there must be someone with a swift hand and firm decisiveness. If we cannot make a decisions because we bicker and argue, then whoever tries to attack us again will use that as an opening!" The people seemed to soak this in. The confident, from what Craetor could glimpse, looked outraged. Well, most of them. Roshet, Unscarred Creator bless him, simply stared on with a soft smile.
"I propose a new oath!" Craetor continued, "I swear to find the ones responsible for attacking this kingdom regret their decisions with every part of their existence!"
Craetor expected silence or maybe a few nods, but he got something better. As the crowd, made up of high-ranking soldiers and people, cheered, the confident sank down with a defeated look. They dared not speak, of course.
Vivola quickly silenced the crowd with a booming voice. Though most of the people simply followed, not growing suspicious, Craetor and the confident both looked toward her fiercely. She had used Void to enhance her voice. It was an act forbidden in Faerein, on account of the Scarred Sanction hunting the Void users worldwide. After the princess had been taken...
Craetor shook his head and took his place on the throne, as prompted by Vivola. "Craetor Frae, you are now the king of Faerein. May the Unscarred Creator guide your actions and bring us to a fruitful future." Well, this had been better than- "We of the confident invoke the Grievance Rule from Galvure's Mandate."
Craetor froze in his new throne. Damn. That rule... gave the confident complete power for the next month. It was made for wartime kings that were newly elected. They were thought to be not in their right mind with the grief they felt over the loss of the last king. Scarred Father! They had beaten him in the end...