The Iron
Crown

At this I rose up, impelled by what power I knew not, and took the ring forth from my finger.

The compass on my wrist spun furiously, but I knew not on whom to place the ring.

The Queen deserved it, but who was the King?

It seemed that fate had answered.

The King had no right hand, and with fear I stood before them and slipped the ring on the Queen's finger.

The room at once grew light and in horror I realized what I had done.

The impostor-king was Denis of Pernia.

I fell to the ground in fear but he loomed over me with an equivocal smile.

He seemed to be thanking me but my mind knew not how or for what.

But I looked and looked and then my heart understood, and in his eyes I recognized at last the hallowed features of my own King.

Asking no more, I simply placed the iron crown on his head.