Simon reaches out to take it, every inch of his smooth brown skin covered in dark tattoos. Just the way he always wanted. Glancing over at me, he smiles. People in the crowd gasp, confused murmurs racing through the air. I turn back toward the crowd. “I’d like to introduce you all to Simon Bartholomew Faasa. Son of King Michael III. Rightful heir to the throne of Gloria Terra.” Reaching up, I take the crown off my head and place it on top of his. “And the one true king.”
