Coronation: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #5) Read Free Page A

shown me countless holograms while instructing me at length in the language, history, culture, etcetera, of my grandmother’s people. The image he broadcast now was of an oppidan landscape – one characterized by glimmering skyscrapers and resplendent spires stretching high into the sky.
    “What exactly am I looking at?” I asked. “The capital or something?”
    “You gaze upon the Acropolis Select,” Sloe replied.
    My mouth almost dropped open in surprise. “That’s the palace of the queen?! It’s the size of a city!!”
    “The Acropolis is considered a physical manifestation of our people’s greatness,” Berran chimed in. “So naturally its scope must reflect our majesty.”
    “So what – as the empire grows, so does the queen’s castle?” I asked.
    “Yes, the city-palace is ever-expanding,” Sloe replied. As he spoke, the holographic image shifted, revealing what I would describe as a construction crew busy laying the foundation for some new edifice.
    “I don’t know if being monarch can make up for having to live in a permanent construction zone,” I commented.
    “Most of the architectural assembly occurs at the fringe of the Acropolis, so few residents are disturbed by the work in question,” Berran said. “As to the queen, she is often away attending to matters of state.”
    “Moreover,” Sloe added, “not all of the construction is purely functional.”
    The holographic image shifted, now providing a close-up of what I presumed to be specific areas within the city-palace: gardens, parks, a zoo, and much more – places apparently meant to be aesthetically pleasing rather than merely practical.
    “Impressive, is it not?” Sloe asked.
    I shrugged. “It’s certainly large. If she were a man, I’d say the queen was trying to compensate for something with the ongoing expansion.”
    “Her Majesty does no more than follow tradition,” Berran said. “Countless monarchs throughout our history have added to the breadth of the Acropolis, which is centered on the spot where the First King established his dynasty.”
    I nodded in understanding. My lessons with Sloe had touched briefly on the subject of the First King, who – as the name implied – was apparently the first ruler of my grandmother’s homeworld.
    “In addition,” Berran continued, “the palace is also home to many of the royal family, and relations between some of them are less than congenial. Thus, the scale of the Acropolis allows for adequate space to be maintained between highborns who may be at odds with each other.”
    “I get it – there’s a family feud between some members of the royal clan,” I said, and then frowned as another thought occurred to me. “Wait a minute. Am I supposed to be staying in the Acropolis?”
    The notion of perpetual construction became nothing more than a nuisance compared to the possibility of being in a war zone between squabbling family members. (Not to mention the fact that Berran had already hinted that my life might be in danger.)
    “Your official residence will be your ancestral home – the House Nonpareil,” Sloe answered. As he spoke, the hologram changed once more, this time showing an elegant castle on a picturesque estate. It was immense by ordinary standards, but– after seeing the Acropolis – hardly worth mentioning in terms of size.
    “Even now,” Sloe went on, “the domestics prepare a feast in your honor.”
    The scene changed again, this time showing a bevy of servants setting up for a banquet of some sort on one of the well-manicured lawns of the manse. Just judging from the amount of natural light present, it appeared to be around midday.
    “Hold on,” I said, staring at the display. “Is this live?”
    “I am linked into various visual surveillance systems, both satellite and ground-based,” Sloe replied. “You are witnessing actions that are contemporaneous with your observation of them.”
    I was on the verge of stating that a simple “Yes” would