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INSTRUMENT OF CORONATION


Icarnus

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The Lord-Protector sat in his bed, surrounded by his ministers of the realm. The sheets were drenched crimson with his blood, as was the floor beneath. The features of the soldier-protector of the empire, deformed by death, were ghastly and horrible, and more than one livid wound appeared in the face. With the slow rattle of a man gripped by some fever, he slowly spoke his will to his council, his page-boys shakily scrivening his speech all while the bile of death bubbled and seethed at the corners of his mouth;

 

***

 

Instrument of Coronation

 

I, Adrian Leopold of the House de Sarkozy, Lord Protector of the Holy Orenian Empire, Duke and Governor-General of Helena, Duke of Adria, Baron of Renzfeld, do hereby declare my irrevocable determination and will in legitimising as the rightful successor to, and without impediment issuing the coronation of, Antony Sigismund to his rightful seat of the throne of the Holy Orenian Empire.

 

It is with a graven pen that I write this, but hope not that these last words before I succeed from this mortal coil into the seven skys tinge the celebration and jubilee that should rightfully be afforded to the leader of man on his coronation. 

 

With this immediate transferal of power the protectorate-interregnum is dissolved, all rights and titles afforded to myself, and any other Lord Protectors of the crown are returned to the throne once more.

 

God save the Emperor. 

Adrian de Sarkozy.

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((Coronation at 5 PM EST in Helena.))
 

 

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“Only a true Horen can lead Humanity back to its Glory. Ave Horen, Ave Orenia” states an aged Mardonian sailing alone in the Curonian sea. 

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Elizaveta Sarkozic mourns the loss of her relative.

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“Ave Oren.” 

 

A certain Mali’aheral spoke out from the comfort of her clinic once the news reached her. Her tone was solemn, yet she saw hope in the newly chosen successor, Antony. 

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“Oh look, pertinaxi is back.” Said Wilhelm from the seven skies. The old monarch and loyal servant held a detached uncertainty in his eyes, perhaps even a little hope. “That era ended once in horror, and through the devices of power, has today been restored in fear.” He puffed on his joint. “Hrm.”

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Amathion “Oldman” Ironwood rejoices in the new Emperor, though is sad that a great man has passed on. He raises a fist to his name.

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Aleksandr Renault II, prepare for the coronation

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Jahan would bow his head for the late Lord Protector. “He managed to hold it down until a proper claimant could be found, his work was completed.” 

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“Ah, Lord Protector.. My ally..” Sohaer Dimaethor Elervathar reflected, pondering on the news over a glass of Visaj Red.

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Kazimar would frown upon hearing the news “He enabled stability, I pray another will be at least half as capable to guide others through the coming times.”

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“I must admit I wasn’t expecting this. Rest in peace in the seven skies, Lord Protector.” an old vintasian would comment

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A random peasant woman put on her best black dress to mourn the death.

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