Chapitre 36: Crown and power
Noon arrived and with it the expected time for the long-awaited coronation of the soon-to-be Prince consort Gilbert Stanley.
On the other hand, he had not been able to visit the prince, since the attendants had needed for such a particular event two and a half hours of preparation: including perfumes, delicate balms and body oils, up to the dressing of his precious clothes.
For the princes and princesses consort, it was not as easy as those born in the royal house.
In fact, those born of the royal house, such as Prince Henry or Princess Isabelle, it was simply necessary to be the children of royals to be able to assume the title at birth. For the princes consorts the complete coronation rite was instead necessary.
As a tradition for the British crown, the religious rite would take place in the London Cathedral of Westminster and it was precisely for this reason that it was also necessary for almost two hours from Warwick Castle to reach London.
Two hours of majestic parades of numerous floats, leading each member of the royal family and closer through the jubilant English people.
On the other hand, the intervention of the guards had not been necessary since the exultation of the people was quite contained in them.
Gilbert had turned several times to see the faces of his future people and noticed that in the crowd only a few actively cheered, while others limited themselves to suspicious whispers.
And he noticed that the exultants were the wealthiest of the bourgeois, those who never lacked food on the table anyway, but he saw that out of curiosity the few who said nothing were only peasants or people not lucky enough to find a roof over their heads and rarely eat.
But even Gilbert noticed how strong and expected the union between him and the beautiful princess Isabelle actually was.
So much so that their people began to speculate on the fate of the birth of a future prince with golden hair like his mother and the enchanting and deep grey eyes of his father.
Gilbert, now that since he was secretly becoming a father, he was not in a hurry to generate other children, but he knew that that would have been one of his first duties and so he almost rejoiced at that strange and unexpected idea.
Then when the march of horses and majestic carriages, one after the other, reached the huge stone square of Westminster Cathedral, a strange feeling began to rise up in Gilbert's stomach.
He still did not believe that during that day he would become prince of all England.
He was raised on a small island in the middle between Ireland and England and grew up believing that there could be nothing better.
Now he stood in front of the beautiful Westminster Abbey, which in its magnificent Gothic style shone in its towering arches and magnificent glass windows.
He had attendants who had helped him get out of the carriage and hold his long and precious red cloak from crawling on the ground and getting dirty.
He had royal guards to defend him and his family and in all danger he couldn't feel so much safer than that.
The coronation would, as usual, follow the Anglican Protestant rite and would be performed by the cardinal himself, and would then follow the march towards the residence, which the royal family owned near the London countryside: a calm and peaceful place, where the two soon spouses could pass some time without being disturbed.
The ceremony lasted well over an hour.
It was exactly as Gilbert had imagined all this: he was standing there, holding in one hand the golden sceptre that had belonged to the royal family for generations, covered in places by neat rows of diamonds and in the other holding a small sphere the size of an orange.
That precious ceramic sphere represented the whole world.
It was a symbol to make everyone aware that that man, who was now there, would have a bright future in front of the entire nobility.
The prince with dull red hair and a pale face would soon represent the whole of England alongside his bride.
He could not believe all this, that as a noble of a small island, mistreated by his brothers and used by his father, he had now arrived there, in the presence of every noble who respectfully bowed to him.
People outside the church: the common plebeians, elbowed blocked by the guards to attend such a sacred rite in which they were not allowed to take part.
But it was at the moment, when the heavy and majestic golden crown of a thousand precious stones was placed on the long hair of the man, all the nobles present including more distant relatives of the royal family rose from the smooth wooden banks of the church exulting.
And as he felt the others, noble as plebeians incite to his majesty, it was then that Gilbert felt great and invincible.
He closed his eyes and everything seemed to disappear around him.
His cloak showed the two lions: the symbol of the kingdom of England.
After reciting mass and officially proclaiming the coronation of the new prince consort in the eyes of God, the closest members of the royal court were led by carriages to the secondary palace that the royal family also owned in the London countryside.
There Gilbert could rest for two hours before the party was held among noble guests.
The people were already celebrating with banquets and raising hymns to the new prince.
The residence owned by the royals was of a grandeur and majesty, almost unimaginable for Gilbert.
Huge green gardens, cherry trees that would bloom next spring and the huge fortress, the largest he had ever seen.
It had a more rustic air than the castle but in all its naturalness it showed an almost sublime and royal nobility.
It took on a whiter colour of smooth fine stone and huge dark oak doors.
The stairways, on the other hand, were of precious and white marble and the numerous windows had a particular arch shape.
-This is just the palace where my family and I used to spend our summers- commented the princess from her husband's side playing with a tuft of her golden hair -but on the other hand I don't want to entertain you much here, therefore come down- Isabelle invited making a slight gesture to her future husband.
-I don't know...- admitted the man looking away -...all this is really magnificent but I have a kind of fear...a bad feeling- he commented.
-You shouldn't- said the young woman sincerely smiling -everyone loves you here, you are now at home, you are now my husband ..- she commented grabbing her husband's hand tightly.
Gilbert did not seem completely convinced by what the young woman was saying to him, but on the other hand he could not spoil the moment. So he was forced to smile leaving a sweet kiss on his partner's hand.
This gesture was followed by Isabelle's hand who gently took the groom's hand in hers -you are a prince now- she told him gently -you are my king and there is nothing to fear-.
The interior of the house was magnificent, beautiful, majestic, noble.
And it was there that Gilbert released his bride's hand and offered her a kiss.
- If you allow, my darling - he started speaking - I wish I could give myself half an hour of rest -.
Isabelle gently nodded caressing her husband's shoulder with one of her small hands, and thus approaching his ear.
-This night I will visit you...- she whispered maliciously -keep the night free my lord- she said leaving a weak kiss on the cheek of the other -have a good rest therefore, dear-.
Gilbert had acquired a reddened color in his face and returned the kiss, being escorted by guards to his apartments, where he would be allowed to rest.
He had guards with him and that made him feel safe, but even as he walked down the back corridor, he realised he was being followed.
-Is what I heard from my bride true?- asked the voice behind him, making the prince drastically turn around.
He saw Juniper: his face full of anger, the sweaty golden curls that fell on his forehead.
Gilbert remained paralysed for a few seconds, motionless as he observed him. The baron did not seem to have weapons, and so he decided to answer.
-If it is what I imagine that is right- the man admitted, feeling solid protection in the royal guards.
-Bastard!- the young baron let escape from his lips -I didn't imagine your miserable squalor could go that far-.
-You should rather ask yourself about the innocence of your bride- Gilbert commented, refusing the insult and moreover wanting to provoke anger in the young man.
So it was that in a few seconds Juniper flung himself on the prince consort, unleashing all his anger on him, throwing punches, kicks when he could and sometimes resulting in the rival to react.
The royal guards, on the other hand, did not know how to react or what to do: Juniper, the baron was the king's nephew, a close relative to whom the deceased uncle particularly cared. Gilbert was their prince, their future sovereign and father of future princes and princesses.
-Protect him! Defend your prince! - a voice behind them shouted, bringing in all the stress one of the guards whose rifle was already shaking, to throw a shot at the two.
It was silence, nothing was understood for a short time, not a scream, nothing before noticing who the blow was over.
Juniper fell instantly holding his abdomen firmly and breathing hard.
-What have you done?!- asked Gilbert critically, making sure that the other stayed alive and continued to breathe -don't stand there and watch, do something, help! -
And so, putting the rifles back on their shoulders, the two guards fell on the bloody body of the young Baron.
William Dustin had seen it all, and it was he who had shouted to protect the prince.
Now he had the advantage: now, under the pretext of what happened, Isabelle would have believed that it was her husband who had shot her beloved cousin and all this would have made his revenge even closer.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone