Darius and his daughter, Chrisyntha, sat in his bedroom. He was seated in a wheelchair, hunched over, facing her.

Her eyes were moist.

His time had come.

Each inhalation of his was laborious to the point of torture. It had become masochistic just for him to breathe.

Chrisyntha held her father's hands and rubbed them delicately. She had watched the life drain out of him for days. His health had deteriorated rapidly in the period since the meeting he called with the ministers and generals. And it wasn't just his body that was failing. His mind was going too. Sometimes he'd remember her name; sometimes, he'd stare at her blankly and scream like she was a stranger. She found it hard to keep composed throughout the ordeal, to keep from crying or cutting away in frustration.

It was heartbreaking. But she kept by his side, fed him in the mornings, and regaled him with stories from the past. When he did recall them, he smiled in delight. When he didn't, she found he was often entertained nonetheless.

Nia took a break from her concern-saturated thoughts and noticed her father staring through the window.

She looked out to see what he was looking at and saw nothing.

"Father, what's there?" She asked.

Once she got beside him, she realized he wasn't breathing.

She shook him gently. He didn't budge.

Reluctantly, she checked his pulse. He was gone.

She looked over at his half-finished cup of mint tea that had only just been made by his nurse. Steam was still floating out of the cup. It was the one thing he couldn't do without every day, which made her wish he had gotten to finish it.

Before she consciously let them flow, tears cascaded down her face. She dropped to her knees, buckled under the weight of the realization that her father was forever gone.

Guards outside could hear the commotion, so they rushed in.

"Go get doctor Ingler," she yelled at one of them.

The guard sped off.

Ingler stumbled in shortly after.

He double-checked Darius's vitals with his equipment and officially declared him dead.

Other officials began filing into the room.

They watched as Chrisyntha cradled her father in her arms on the floor. She paid little attention to them.

"Your highness, it's time."

She recognized the voice and looked up to see Nodalis standing in front of her, with his hand outstretched.

"I don't think I'm ready."

"Few ever are, but it's best to do the ascension immediately. So there's no time for false rumors to spread about who's in charge."

She nodded, creakily and took his hand. He yanked her up.

"Uncle," she muttered as they hugged.

"I'll always be here for you," he replied. "Come, now you must take the throne and become leader of the realm."

Technically, she had become empress the moment her father died. But there was a ceremony to be performed, and the realm would be watching. Luckily, the palace staff was trained to always be ready to initiate such a ceremony because one never knew when it would be necessary.

Word had been sent to the public via state-controlled media that Darius was dead, and the ceremony to make Chrisyntha Empress was imminent.

Chrisyntha took Nodalis's hand as they walked up the hall. She led, with others behind and guards beside.

“I want Anderz returned from exile on BIOS. He’s the philospher who we need to look to for insight in these difficult times.”

Nodalis sighed.

“I don’t recommend it your highness, but you're in charge now, so I will.”

Chrysintha smiled at him.

Soon Raya took Chrisyntha's hand, other hand, and he noticed how Copernica, his daughter, stayed back, glaring at Chrysintha.

"I'm guessing you three have worked things out since the last time I saw you all arguing?" Nodalis asked.

"We're getting there," Chrisyntha responded. The other two nodded.

"Good," Nodalis replied.

"Remember, we are supposed to have the ceremony in the Great room downstairs, your highness," said Dante, one of the officials.

"Why?" Chrisyntha asked.

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Dante seemed startled at the question but composed himself and said,

"Well, it's been done that way for generations."

"Well, I want to do things differently," she said, "I want my ascension ceremony done outside on the front lawn. Tell security to allow folks to come in from off the street so they can witness it. I want the people to have access to me. I want them to see the process in person. It shouldn't only be broadcast over tv, while only elites get to see it in person."

Nodalis's jaw dropped.

"But, princess, excuse me...I mean, empress. It won't be safe," Nodalis said.

"Uncle, the people love me!"

Realizing he was not going to convince her otherwise, Nodalis nodded. But her behavior only added to his concern that she was possibly unfit to be leader. He still had the certificate, signed by Darius, that gave him the approval to function as leader instead of her, and it was tempting to produce it and take over, but he didn't feel it was the right thing to do.

He had never been a power-hungry man and always saw himself as a servant of whoever was in charge. He didn't want to seem like an old general launching a coup. Given time, he hoped he could still steer her in the right direction, but by her side, not above her.

Chrisyntha ordered Dante to tell the media to say that she'd be having her ceremony on the front lawn. Nodalis told security to comply, screen folks, and let them onto the front lawn.

Nearly everyone in the party that surrounded her was nervous. She was bucking tradition, possibly jeopardizing their safety. But she was the empress. They had to obey.

Chrisyntha pressed ahead quickly, forcing the others to pick up their pace. Folks of their stature were used to a slow, stately walking style, something they'd practiced from a very young age. It was not enough to be a high-ranking official. They all wanted to give off that impression in how they spoke, dressed, and carried themselves.

But Chrisyntha didn't care for that. She knew she was throwing them off, making some angry, but she'd never had much taste for tradition. Some part of her deliberately wanted to shake them up. She took pleasure in it.

As they neared the doors that opened onto the front lawn, they could all hear the commotion of the people outside. More and more people were streaming onto the lawn through security. The officials could hear the chorus of feet plodding in the grass, kicking up a cacophony that roared into the building.

Chrisyntha attempted to step out first, but Nodalis and the guards, concerned for her safety, launched themselves in front of her.

As they all passed onto the front lawn, cheers went up once the crowd spotted Chrisyntha.

Many yelled her name, cheered, and whooped.

The crowd's energy soared as she passed by and waved.

Outside waited the crowner, the official responsible for placing the crown on Chrisyntha's head. He watched as she moved toward him.

Between both of them was a long row of soldiers facing each other, frozen in the saluting position, waiting for her to pass through. But she took her time, making sure to stir the crowd's passions by blowing kisses, gesturing, and smiling.

Eventually, she passed through the soldiers and reached the crowner. His face lit up. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to crown the next monarch. It was considered a great honor that would garner the crowner respect for the rest of his life.

But just before he commenced laying the crown on top of her head, Chrisyntha smiled and wagged her index finger, gesturing for him not to.

Then she turned to the crowd.

"Today, we are going to do something different," she said. "I want one of you to come and crown me."

The crowd went ballistic.

"Let me, let me," the chant echoed throughout the mass of people.

"How about I let a child do it," she yelled to the crowd.

"Have my kid," the yell went up repeatedly in response.

She surveyed the crowd, looking for a child to choose. Finally, her eyes landed on a young boy sitting on his father's shoulders.

"Hey, little boy, come here," Chrisyntha said, pointing to the kid.

His tiny face glowed with joy. His father moved through the crowd, carrying the boy with him until he was just in front of her.

She took the child and placed him on the ground beside her, thanked the father for bringing him, then turned to the kid.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Cory."

"Nice to meet you, Cory! Are you ready to crown me, little one?" She asked.

He crossed his hand behind his back, swayed from side to side, nodded nervously, and said, "Yes, mam."

Chrisyntha took the crown from the original crowner, who frowned, and handed it to the boy.

The crowd lit up in amusement.

She turned to them and spoke.

"Say these words to me and place the crown on my head, young man: 'I the crowner hereby crown you Empress of Xymoran Planetary Federation.'"

The boy repeated the words and stretched the crown toward her, but she was too tall for him to place it on her head. So she knelt before him, and he dropped the crown on her head.

Once he placed it upon her head, she stood, and the crown shone out a hologram of the realm that spun around here, symbolically making her the center of all inhabited space. The hologram displayed all the planets, planetary confederations, stars, asteroids, and the like in the realm. All of them swirled around her.

The crowd cheered wildly. It was a huge breach of protocol for a leader to kneel before a commoner. The people couldn't believe their eyes, but they loved it.

Several of the people in Chrisyntha's entourage were outraged. Some even turned away to avoid seeing her kneel. Nodalis could feel his face getting red.

How unbecoming of her, he thought.

Chrisyntha hoisted the little boy up in her arms.

"By my order, this child will receive the title of crowner and enjoy all the lifetime respect and compensation that comes with it, and his family will be compensated as well."

Members of the crowd clapped, excited to see one of their own honored in such a way.

"I promise to be a leader who serves all of you, not myself. I promise I won't grow cold and uncaring. I'll fight for peace and prosperity for all."

The crowd cheered and clapped.

Chrisyntha looked behind her to catch the pulse of the officials. She noticed how quickly they changed their dry looks into fake smiles, acting as if they supported her, but she knew the truth.

Nodalis only managed a simper. Chrisyntha took note of his honesty. She didn't expect him to be happy, just not fake. That would do.

She turned back around and bid goodbye to the crowd. Then she walked the boy and his family into the palace.

Nodalis couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice.

Chrisyntha seemed hell-bent on burning down every rule or tradition that reigned since her father's founding of the monarchy. She was appealing to the people in an unprecedented way.

He could only wait and see the results, which gave him little comfort.