The king considers this. “No. Let the people have their golden hours. We will need the time to consult the other ambassadors. If we are going to throw more fuel on the embers of war, we must get their blessing. Sentinel Renna, you oversee the warriors’ training. I trust you are willing to choose the teams.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the Fourth Sentinel says.

“Good,” he replies. “There is one more matter we need to discuss before we leave here. When word gets out, the citizens will look to all sentinels for assurance. It would be prudent to speak as one voice, through one person. Sentinel Faera, as you all know, had for years served as the King’s Voice, bringing the kingdoms together. Given her absence, I wonder if you would elect someone to serve in her place.”

My peers and I exchange looks of surprise. Faera stepped down two months ago to start her own family as well as to care for her elderly father. Her successor had not yet been named. Per tradition, a search was being conducted for her replacement, and anyone on the Heliana could volunteer himself or herself, as I had a year ago when Noam deserted. The numbers of our ranks were only echoes of a past hierarchy. Every sentinel was chosen the same way, and any Leonodai could ask to be considered.

Hammond should be the King’s Voice, I think. Older than the king himself, Hammond is a veteran soldier and always keeps the city’s best interests at heart.

The sentinel in question clears his throat. “Your Grace,” Hammond says. “I am a welder’s son, not a politician. You know I am not one for diplomatic dances.”

Beside me, my friend Sentinel Lyreina exhales a small laugh, and I share it. Wordsmith or not, I bet Lyreina feels as I do.

Then Hammond says, “I would elect the Ninth Sentinel, Lady Shirene.” What? I am too new and too young. My mouth opens to protest, but he keeps going. “A capable warrior, Sentinel Shirene has wisdom beyond her years and a depth of patience that the scholars could study.” My heart swells out of my chest. Hammond isn’t one to give compliments unless he truly means it.

And yet here he is, speaking my name before the king.

“I second the nomination,” says Lyreina. “The citizens adore Shirene and trust her well.”

King Kharo turns his attention to me. “Sentinel Shirene,” he says. “Would you serve as the King’s Voice?”

My heart races. I am a sentinel, the same as everyone else gathered here. I can’t hide behind the newness of my station forever. At some point, I will have to face the sun and rise into her light. This is that moment. I take a deep breath.

“I would be honored, Your Grace.”