Postponing the Coronation

Torch in hand, Eleanor strode from the portal’s fading glow into the royal council chambers. The startled dignitaries within leapt up, her uncle, Sir Gregory rushing to clutch her tightly.

“Thank the gods! When Xavier emerged alone, battered from that ritual, we feared the worst,” he exclaimed. Around them, urgent mutters broke out amongst the priests and advisers. Though the bleeding sky over the capital had cleared, much had transpired in her absence.

“The Dread Queen is no more,” Eleanor pronounced clearly, quieting the room. “Her Anchor destroyed and stronghold fallen.”

But she pushed past amazed gasps towards Xavier seated alone at the great table’s far end - healed yet downcast. Kneeling, she grasped his hands remorsefully. “There was no other way...forgive me.”

Shadows still clung to Xavier’s haunted eyes however, his voice hollow. “The others who volunteered...I could not protect them when the portal collapsed. Their light fueled your scepter’s return strike instead.” He indicated angry burns upon the relic she still grasped. “But what it took from them...”

Gregory gripped Eleanor’s shoulder urgently. “Another cost we shall remedy in time, child - Eldoria restored outweighs all!” He addressed the worried council. “Spread word the heir has returned victorious!”

But Eleanor stayed Xavier’s reply with a pained look. Eldoria’s salvation perhaps, but through Xavier’s anguish alongside untold innocent souls from their world lost to the portal’s volatile magics. Such salvation held a grievous price too high for this war-weary realm to further ignore.

Standing to face her uncertain council, Eleanor knew the true battle was only beginning.

Eleanor suppressed a groan as the council erupted into frenetic planning around her - coronation protocol, public ceremonies, diplomatic envoys. Hardly the homecoming she had envisioned after victory abroad.

Her uncle Gregory shoved through petitioning priests to take charge. “The palace must ready for inaugural rites at first light!” He signaled aides briskly. “Fetch the royal robes and crown from the tower sanctum!"

But Xavier touched Eleanor's arm, drawing her aside with troubled eyes as Gregor bustled past. “Must you claim the throne so readily after all that has transpired?” he asked urgently. “Eldoria remains imperiled by the factions who aided the Dread Queen’s rise. Your reign begins amidst their scattered vengeance.”

Eleanor glanced back to where Shane conferred with Oriander near the darkened portal, its unstable magics still being sealed. She shared Xavier’s concerns about lingering external threats, but equal dangers festered within these very walls.

Gregory’s impatient voice carried over the growing din. “Summon the masons to ready a balcony for public viewing!” Eleanor watched her uncle closely, a cold suspicion forming.

Turning to Xavier, she answered in a low voice. “I must secure the throne now before ambition blinds Eldoria’s protectors further.” Glancing meaningfully at Gregory, she gripped her scepter - its magics and missing volunteers suddenly taking on new sinister implications.

Xavier followed her gaze, then met her eyes with dawning realization. With a silent nod between them, Eleanor swept back to the council’s chaotic preparations. She would be crowned come dawn, shadow games be damned!

As the council hurried to ready Eleanor's rushed coronation, doubts took root. In their haste, no foreign allies or estranged provinces had been summoned to witness Eldoria's revived leadership. Such a slight could breed resentment.

Gregory waved aside her concerns when Eleanor voiced them. "With the capital still securing its outskirts, we've not the resources to host some garish gathering of opportunists!" He motioned for the ceremonial robes to be brought forth. "The people require stability now - which your coronation shall provide."

But Eleanor noted the advisers avoiding her gaze. As heir, she understood the symbolic power such events carried for public morale and diplomatic ties. How would it look for Eldoria’s resurgent queen to exclude allied dignitaries after decades of isolation under the Dread Queen’s pall?

As Gregory pressed the glittering crown into her hands impatiently, Eleanor came to a decision. “Uncle, wait - I cannot accept this yet.” Ignoring his shock, she turned towards the murmuring council.

“We shall arrange a proper coronation - when Eldoria is secured within and without,” Eleanor declared, returning the crown. “For now, establishing trade and borders must take precedence so our people can rebuild. We need allies more than a queen’s coronation.”

Leaving Gregory spluttering behind her, Eleanor sought out Shane and Xavier preparing to reportedly return home, hoping she turned away from her birthright not in fear, but wisdom. The coming months would judge her choice.

As the stunned council digested Eleanor's refusal of the crown, she felt only resolute. Let them question her rejection of formality - her duty was to all Eldoria now, not courtly expectations.

Striding towards where Shane and Xavier prepared for their homeward journey, Eleanor's mind turned to restoration. For too long magic and archaic rituals had isolated Eldoria amongst suspicious rivals. Trade and security required modernizing now.

She would tour the provinces, assess resources, perhaps apply innovations from her friend's inventive world. Shane grinned when she proposed such ideas. "I got some sweet tech blueprints to share, partner! We'll have this kingdom booming in no time."

Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly though at sight of Prince Vincent approaching through the bustling hall - no doubt to again press his urgent marriage suit stalled by her abduction those many months ago.

He bowed before her and swept his hand in reverence before straightening up.

“Sorry to arrive unannounced, but I would like to request an urgent meeting between the two if us,” he declared with a broad grin.

“That can be done, of course, but only after a few weeks because I have urgent royal commitments at the moment,” Eleanor responded. She noticed that Vincent seemed interested in something more than diplomatic talks.

“Oh, but I’m sure that we could squeeze in an appointment for a lunch or dinner?” Vincent continued.

“I really can’t do that at the moment, I’m truly sorry,” Eleanor responded with a quick, stiff smile.

With a polite but deliberate wave of refusal, Eleanor moved towards her waiting friends and the shimmering cross-realm portal. Vincent's face tightened, but he withdrew with a bow - one matter resolved at least.

Taking Shane and Xavier's hands, Eleanor left her uncertain council and birthright behind without hesitation. She would return transformed on her people's own terms, ready to lead Eldoria to a prosperous future built by her own hands, magic and machine alike. The witch's shadow had parted - now came the dawn!