The Scarred Queen's Rise (Athena) novel Chapter 767

**TITLE: Fake Girl 767**
**CONTENT: Chapter 767**

At that moment, the chief of the Directorate of Palace Attendants emerged from the shadows of the side hall, his grip firm around a vibrant yellow scroll that seemed to shimmer with importance. His voice, sharp and resonant, cut through the heavy air of the hall. “The late Arthur’s edict has arrived, esteemed ministers, prepare to receive the order!”

Instantly, a profound silence enveloped the room, and the officials, as if choreographed, dropped to their knees in unison, their heads bowed low in reverence.

Athena and Xander, caught in the gravity of the moment, turned to each other before following suit, kneeling in solidarity with their peers.

“I have reigned for thirty-seven years, yet I find myself burdened with the weight of failure towards my people. Today, I pass the crown to Evander, entrusting him with the sacred duty to uphold the laws of our ancestors, to govern with unwavering diligence, and to cherish the hearts of the people…”

The chief’s voice wavered slightly as he paused, his gaze sweeping over Xander, whose expression remained stoic. “By special decree, Xander is hereby appointed as Prince Regent, tasked with aiding the new emperor in the governance of our realm, and to relinquish his office once the emperor reaches the age of maturity to rule.”

A thunderous chorus erupted in response, “We bow to your will! May our King endure through the ages, eternal and unending!” The hall trembled beneath the avalanche of voices, echoing as if the very mountains were paying homage.

As Evander accepted the edict, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he performed three deep, reverent bows toward Arthur’s coffin, each bow resonating with the weight of his grief and responsibility.

Xander and Athena exchanged glances, their hearts heavy with emotion, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. They had envisioned a future where they could retreat to their fief, savoring the simple pleasures of life once the new King took the throne. But fate had woven a different tapestry; Arthur’s last command had irrevocably altered their paths, naming Xander as Prince Regent before his passing.

The enthronement ceremony that followed three days later was marked by an uncharacteristic simplicity. Evander donned the majestic dragon robe left behind by Arthur, accepting the homage of the officials within the hallowed walls of the Grand Sanctum, a place steeped in history and solemnity.

After the ceremony, with an expression of humility that belied his royal status, Evander grasped Xander’s hand firmly. “Xander, from this day forth… I will rely on you.”

Xander’s brow furrowed deeply, and he bowed his head in respectful refusal. “I dare not accept such a burden, Your Majesty.”

The funeral rites for Arthur stretched over a month, culminating in a somber burial at the Cavendish Family Cemetery, a final resting place surrounded by the whispers of history.

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