Daylight broke.
The air over London City was thick with gunpowder smoke, the flames at the Royal Palace had just been extinguished, the embers emitting a charred smell, and soldiers busied themselves with cleaning the debris. Cautiously, the citizens opened their doors, and though sleepless, they still dared not let down their guard.
Not until a Windsor Guard galloped through the streets on his steed, shouting, "The new king is crowned, God Bless the King," did people slowly begin to realize what had occurred the previous night.
A coup!
Judging from the outcome, the winner had already been decided.
While people were buzzing with discussion, the sound of saluting cannons came from the distant Royal Palace; precisely twenty-one shots.
Twenty-one cannon shots represented the highest honors and they also indicated the coronation of a new king.
The crowd spontaneously flocked to the Royal Palace, eager to witness the glory of the king.