A steadily growing drumming suddenly rang out in the banquet hall, drowning out the sounds of the crowd. Kathryn slipped to his side, linking their arms. “Here they come,” she whispered.

The doors to the hall burst open, and Nathan was glad he hadn’t stayed standing in front of them. He’d probably be smashed into the wall and gain a concussion.

In walked five figures, followed by a band of musicians and...priests? What kind of ceremony was this supposed to be?

The first person Nathan noticed was...another one of his own white-haired brethren. Seriously, they were everywhere. He assumed that was his...er, monarch brother? The one who’d been summoned?

“Theodoric Reign.”

Right, Theodoric. He definitely looked like someone who could run a kingdom, all awash in his regal glory. And a massive crown. How was he even carrying that on his head? 

Then there was a young man, probably in his early twenties. Black hair, dressed in what Nathan assumed was armour. Bright, golden, beautiful armour. It didn’t look it would be very effective in a fight, but it wouldn’t really have to. It was ceremonial for a reason.

Even from all the way across the room, Nathan saw the young man beaming with pride, a wide, effortless smile spread across his face.

“Abel Wencelas Beirne.”

Sure. Abel Wencelas Beirne. 

An older couple trailed behind him. Judging from the resemblance they shared, they were probably the guy’s parents.

And then, finally…

Ah. Anger Issues Kid.

“Caleb Amadeus Beirne.”

...Okay, this wasn’t working out. Nathan was just going to give up on the names for now. He’d learn as he went.

“I thought humans had larger brains. What happened to yours?”

He couldn’t remember names if they were just listed on and on like a grocery list. There needed to be substance behind them.

“Substance, like cocaine?”

No.

“Do you pledge yourself, and your loyalty, to the greater good of our holy Arvum Empire?”

Nathan’s attention snapped back to the centre in an instant. It was his (alleged) brother, who had turned around and was now speaking to the people gathered.

“I do,” said the man in the ceremonial armour, down on one knee.

“Then rise, and prove yourself.” 

A priest came between the two, holding a...cup? Goblet? Chalice? It was filled with a swirling red liquid that looked a lot like...well, that probably wasn’t it. It was just a tinge too light and too thin. 

The young man stood, an undercurrent of worry dimming his smile. He accepted the cup handed to him.

Kathryn’s grip on Nathan’s arm tightened. “This is never easy to watch,” she whispered.

The priest mixed some sketchy-looking plant into the cup and backed away. Nathan’s older brother gave the young man a look.

“Drink.”

The young man nodded (and even from this distance, Nathan could make out that he was nervous), then downed the entire thing in one go. Someone gasped.

One moment passed, then another. Nothing happened.

Just when Nathan began to think that maybe everyone was overreacting, the young man dropped the cup and let out an agonized scream. He hunched over, one hand clutching his chest and the other on his mouth. Any hint of his smile was gone, replaced by a wide-eyed, shaking reverie, like he didn’t have the capacity to think about anything, let alone his expression, over the pain.

To his side, Nathan heard Stefan mutter, “Come on, now.”

Kathryn’s grip on his arm hurt now, her nails digging into his skin through the fabric. Nathan risked a look and found her staring ahead blankly, face pale. 

Nathan raised a hand to block her view of what was happening. “Don’t look if you don’t want to.”

Kathryn blinked, trance broken. She hesitated for a second, then buried her face in Nathan’s arm. “Tell me when it’s over.”

“I will,” Nathan whispered back, wondering when, exactly, this whole ordeal would count as over. He still had no idea what the ceremony was about, but he sure hoped he wasn’t about to witness a death. He’d been here for like, less than an hour. Seriously.

After a painfully long stretch of time, the young man’s screams subsided, replaced by dry heaving. A formation of priests surrounded him, hands linked, and began chanting. One elderly priest stepped inside the formation, placed his hands on the man’s back, and— 

Nathan supposed he should’ve known that magic existed in this world, but it still took him by surprise. A glowing, golden orb began forming around the elderly priest and the man, shrouding them both from the crowd. For a moment, the cut on Nathan’s lip tingled.

Then the glow subsided and the man came into view again. He looked dazed, looking at his hand in wonder. The elderly priest stood behind him, hands in sleeves, and nodded at the monarch.

“He has passed.”

There was another beat of silence. Then a loud whoop rang out and Stefan pretty much ran to the front and tackled the young man in a bear hug. Murmurs in the hall started up again, slowly, before people began talking like normal again. 

Nathan poked at Kathryn. “It’s over.”

Kathryn took a deep breath and looked up. “I always think they’re going to die.”

Nathan made a guess. “They’re not.”

Kathryn’s shoulder sagged. “No, of course not. It’s just...never mind.”

Nathan didn’t push it. “Stefan’s really happy about this.”

Immediately, Kathryn perked up, posture snapping back into place. “Of course. I believe Abel just broke his record for the youngest to have attempted the knighting ceremony. Not to mention, he succeeded on his first attempt.”

“That’s rare, right?” Nathan prodded, hoping he wasn’t asking about something that might be common knowledge. Luckily, Kathryn didn’t seem to notice.

“Not...rare, exactly. But people usually attempt twice or thrice. And at an age this young? Nothing short of commendable. Of course, I’d expect nothing less of the Golden Boy.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Golden Boy? That’s a bit excessive.”

Kathryn huffed out a laugh. “I know, right? I overheard it from one of our maids. He’d be horrified if he found out they were calling him that.”

With nothing to say to that, Nathan hummed in response. 

A stare burning into him made him look up. His gaze locked onto a pair of grey eyes, staring at him intently.

Anger Issues Kid (Caleb?) made a face when he realized Nathan was looking back. Nathan barely prevented himself from rolling his eyes.

“Your lip is bleeding again,” Kathryn said. Nathan turned to find her frowning. 

It had felt weird during the ceremony. Nathan swiped his thumb over where he remembered the cut to be and felt a surprising amount of blood come away. He checked again with his index finger, just to be sure, and that one came coated away with blood, too. Weird.

“Damien.” 

Nathan realized a beat late that he was being called. “Yes?”

Kathryn was scrutinizing him. “Is that really because of…”

“Dry lips? Who knows?”

Nathan looked back up at Caleb and grinned, faking as much brightness as he could, and waved at him, fingers still coated in blood. They were close enough that the color wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Caleb’s gaze snapped to his fingers. To his mouth. His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. 

A sharp exhale.

Then, without a word, he turned away.

“What is that supposed to— Did you just wave at Caleb?” Kathryn demanded.

“Nope,” Nathan answered cheerily.