I pause before stepping onto the palace balcony. I see spread out across the horizon a verdant sweep of land that my House has reigned over in times of peace and war for generations stretching back into history.
Below me, my people have gathered at the palace gates, after I undertook the official ceremony earlier this afternoon. Spectators in the show, they have come to bear witness to this next constitutional chapter in the story of our nation.
The air pulsates with excitement, and is filled with cries for my appearance. Flags hang from every window, and the streets are flooded with our national colours.
The weight of responsibility always lies heavy on the crown; and on this historic day it lies heavier than usual. It is unseen and unfelt by the officials who flank me at every turn, but is understood by me and me alone, as my mother and her father did before me.
I swallow my nerves and emerge onto the balcony. A deafening roar from my people goes up as they catch a glimpse of their young King. The view is breathtaking, a moment to be remembered forever.
Officials now join me on the balcony, standing respectfully behind me. Cheering themselves hoarse, the great sea of my subjects wave flags and arms in celebration of the day’s events. A great riot of rejoicing is taking place, and the sight pricks at my eyes and fills them with tears I fight to contain.
An official brushes my side, and I know the sign it means. I know the carefully choreographed script. I bow my head, and he places the ceremonial necklace around my neck, to show I accept my own role in this historic moment.
The official leads me towards the edge of the balcony to formally address my people.
“On this glorious day in the history of our nation, His Majesty the King is brought before you all. Found guilty of the heinous crimes he was accused of, he will be hung by the neck from this balcony until he is dead. Long live our Republic!”
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