When Queen Calia's clear and steady voice, amplified by magic, carried across the square to announce that Rhodes would "co-reign with the Queen and, in times of necessity, exercise the authority of the King," time seemed to freeze for a split second.
There was a momentary deathly silence, followed by an explosive uproar. Granting a fiefdom—and even making that fiefdom Theramore—was one thing; Rhodes had rendered such monumental service to the kingdom that he could be called the founding father of this new era. In fact, many felt a single city was a small reward for a man of his stature. But "co-reign" was something else entirely.
The cheers and excitement from the preceding military parade were flash-frozen as if by invisible ice. In the square, countless citizens stood with their mouths agape, faces masked in disbelief. In the gallery of the nobility, the atmosphere turned chaotic instantly. No one expected the newly crowned Queen to grant Rhodes such staggering power. It could no longer be described as being "below only one person"—he was now her legal equal.
"Wh... what? Co-reign with the Queen?!"
"Exercise the King's authority?! How is that possible! When has Lordaeron ever had such a precedent!"
"Does this mean Marshal Rhodes... possesses power identical to the King? In certain situations, he is the same as the Queen?"
"The Menethil bloodline... is she simply handing over half the kingdom?"
"If the Queen's order and Prince Rhodes's order differ, whom do we obey?"
Astonishment, confusion, anxiety, and even a trace of fear spread rapidly among the nobles. Despite Rhodes's illustrious achievements and his undeniable power, the terms "co-reign" and "acting with Kingly authority" crossed a line that many old-guard aristocrats found impossible to accept. It meant that Rhodes was no longer just a Regent or a Marshal; legally and practically, he had become Lordaeron's second monarch.
Even Rhodes himself was slightly surprised. He hadn't expected Calia to trust him to this extent. Yet, truth be told, Lordaeron's successful restoration was something he had carved out with his own hands. Without him, the forces of Lordaeron would still be fractured and leaderless, let alone in a position to crown a Queen.
In the VIP section, the reaction among the leaders of the Alliance was even more intense. Though they fought to maintain diplomatic decorum, the momentary lapses in composure and the heavy atmosphere that followed were impossible to hide.
The exceptions were the newly joined Draenei and the Night Elves. As long-lived races, they generally avoided the petty squabbles of mortal politics. For the Draenei, as long as the ruler followed the Light, it mattered little. For the Night Elves, it was even simpler—Rhodes was a disciple of Cenarius, after all.
King Varian Wrynn's wine cup paused mid-air. His gaze shot toward Rhodes and Calia on the high platform, his brow furrowing deeply. As a traditional monarch and the King of Stormwind, he understood the symbolic and practical weight of "Kingly authority" better than anyone. This wasn't just an honor; it was supreme power. To share such power with someone not of the royal bloodline seemed, to him, nearly apostate.
Calia... do you know what you are doing? You are personally elevating a man to hold the same power as yourself.
However, remembering the Naaru's blessing and the mention of the Queen's heir, Velen's earlier words clicked for Varian. It seemed the Queen was securing Rhodes's loyalty; the father of the child in her womb was almost certainly the man standing beside her.
Kael'thas Sunstrider, by contrast, clapped generously and even gave Rhodes a thumbs-up. The Blood Elves had returned to the Alliance specifically because of Rhodes; without him, they likely would have struck out on their own. Rhodes was his most vital ally. Kael'thas wouldn't just support him as a co-reigning Prince—even if Rhodes declared himself the King of all humanity to recreate the feats of Emperor Thoradin, Kael'thas would have backed him without reservation. Such was his trust in his ally.
Admiral Daelin Proudmoore was first stunned, then his expression clouded. He looked at his daughter, Jaina, whose eyes were bright with joy for Rhodes, and then back at the incredibly young man on the stage. As a father, he was glad to see the man his daughter favored rise to the height of power. But as the ruler of Kul Tiras, the appearance of a "co-ruler" with massive authority and a private army of non-human constructs in a neighboring kingdom felt like a potent threat.
The relationship between Rhodes and the Queen was now public knowledge. Seeing that Jaina was still willing to follow him, Daelin decided he needed to pass the command of Kul Tiras to his youngest son as soon as possible to ensure his own legacy wasn't absorbed. If I didn't have a son, it would be one thing, he thought. But I must train my youngest to stand on his own. As for Jaina... she is like water poured out, impossible to draw back. I should focus on getting as many of those space-magic ships and medical tents out of that boy as I can.
Magni Bronzebeard and Gelbin Mekkatorque didn't voice any opposition. This was human internal business and had little to do with Dwarves or Gnomes. Magni was far more concerned with another matter: the Dark Iron Dwarves in Blackrock Mountain were becoming restless again.
On the dais, Uther and Alexandros had known of this plan beforehand, but hearing it announced so formally still sent a surge of emotion through them. They looked at Rhodes with a complex mix of support, expectation, and a hint of worry. This power was a testament to total trust, but also a heavy shackle.
In the corners of the square, some of the old-guard nobility began to whisper bitterly. While they were outwardly respectful to Rhodes, they were riddled with jealousy over this unprecedented privilege.
"This is no different from splitting the crown in half!" one elderly noble hissed to his companion.
"The Menethil blood is noble, but Marshal Rhodes... has his power grown too bloated? Those non-human armies are, in the end, outside forces."
"Careful!" his companion warned, glancing around. "Without Marshal Rhodes, there is no Lordaeron today. Besides, you saw his power... and the Queen is clearly close to him. If she bears an heir, the throne stays with the Menethil bloodline eventually."
Despite their grumbling, none dared to protest openly. They had seen Rhodes's iron-fisted methods; he had executed a large number of corrupt nobles during the evacuation to Kalimdor and had stripped Garithos of his military power without blinking. With the Lordaeron nobility reduced to a mere fraction of its former self by the Scourge, they no longer had the political weight to mount a challenge.
Faced with the surging waves of doubt, shock, and scrutiny, Rhodes took a deep breath and stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Queen Calia. His gaze swept the square, and his invisible aura of authority was so potent that the clamor gradually died down.
"Citizens of Lordaeron! Friends of the Alliance!" Rhodes's voice wasn't loud, yet it reached every ear with piercing clarity.
"I, Rhodes, accept this supreme honor and this heavy responsibility! I once swore to see the banners of Lordaeron fly proudly over this land once more! I promised to drive the darkness of the Scourge from our home entirely! Today, we stand here as proof of that vow. Lordaeron is reborn, but this is not the end!"
"The Queen's trust grants me authority—not for my personal glory, but for the stability of Lordaeron, the strength of the Alliance, and to face the even greater challenges that may descend upon us in the future! I swear by the Light, and to all the people of Lordaeron—"
"The sword in my hand shall swing to protect every inch of this soil! The armies under my command shall fight to safeguard every citizen! Every power I exercise shall have only one standard: the prosperity of Lordaeron! Anyone who seeks to destroy this hard-won peace—whether they come from without or breed from within—shall face my absolute wrath and purification!"
Once I step into the transcendental realm, Rhodes thought privately, I won't care for mortal politics anymore. By then, this power will belong to my son.
"As for Theramore, it is not merely my fief; it is the bastion of Lordaeron and the Alliance in Kalimdor. I will ensure it remains the strongest bridge between our two continents!"
This declaration was devoid of humble deflections; it was a bold, dominant promise that galvanized the crowd. Combined with his legendary battle record, it acted like a sledgehammer, crushing most of the public dissent.
"For Lordaeron! For the Alliance! For a brighter future!"
"For Prince Rhodes!"
The cheers erupted again, this time carrying a newfound recognition and expectation for this powerful "Co-ruler." With his new oath, Rhodes had successfully won over the commoners, the soldiers, and the remaining nobility. He was not a King, yet his word carried more weight than any King before him.