Crown of Ellova, Vol. 1 (Crown of Ellova Duology)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I ’m a fool to have fallen for a mortal, no matter how kind and handsome the healer is.

Even if everything I’ve ever told him has been nothing more than half-truths and gilded lies, excitement still twists in my chest at the thought of seeing him tonight. All we have is one night a month, and though our interactions are tragically brief, I long for each stolen, precious moment.

I try to shove the thoughts of the healer, Leon, out of my head and focus on the crown in my hand, the cerulean light of the forge’s flames glinting off it.

When sunlight streams through the stained glass windows of my workshop, as it does now, it paints the room with iridescent reds and yellows, pinks, and blues. The glimmering glass above me creates an image of flames with bursting stars coming out of the fire.

“Della? That wouldn’t be for me, would it?” Nueena asks playfully from behind me.

“Fuck!” I fumble with the crown as I launch to my feet, whipping it behind my back and turning to block it from her view. The desk rattles with the movement, and the freshly cut flowers from my garden sway in their crystal vase. A few loose pearls I was working with roll away into the gem-encrusted forge beside my desk, but most fall to the floor with soft clinks, scattering around the stone floor.

Nueena’s tall, graceful form leans against the aged stone doorframe of my workshop, a mischievous smile on her full lips and a shining gold tiara on her head, nestled in her tight curls. Her black hair cascades down her back, and the last of the sunlight behind her haloes her deep brown skin and brings out its golden undertones.

Once I’ve recovered from her sudden appearance, I grin back at her. “Of course not. It’s for someone who knows to knock when I’m working on my court’s coronation gift to them. Turn around, please. I have a few more details to add before I leave.”

She laughs and turns slowly. “Fine. I won’t peek.”

I whirl back around, not needing to check if she keeps her word as I stick my hand into the lit forge to retrieve the dispersed pearls. It is not the warmth of the enchanted forge’s pale blue flames that I feel first; it’s the magic’s welcoming pulse. Never burning me, the soft flickering of the fire is a tender caress on my skin.

The gift of my jewelsmith’s magic.

I pick the crown back up. Gold flowers surround the large amethyst nestled in the center. Vines and leaves are carved around the side of the headpiece with small diamonds scattered like stars around the golden flora.

“You’re here early. Is everything all right?” I turn her crown over in my hands, examining what may be missing from her headpiece. Every aspect needs to be perfect.

She sighs deeply. “All is well. I just couldn’t have another conversation with my parents on the endless trivial details of my coronation.”

Nueena is about to be crowned the youngest Realm Keeper in all of Ellova’s history. She will rule over the Ellovian High Court and the five faerie courts of Ellova. Her magic will soon surpass her mother’s, the current Realm Keeper, and it will be time for Nueena to take her place .

The entire realm has been preparing for Nueena’s anticipated coronation for months. I’ve been assisting her when I can, but the tasks are endless. She’s preparing to host the five court Guardians and their courtiers at the Ellovian Palace. Weeks of ceremonies, festivities, and revelry that I have been looking forward to for decades. All to celebrate Nueena in the way she truly deserves, leading up to her actual crowning day.

“What was today’s detail?” I ask.

“My evening ended with a whole discussion about which plates we should use for breakfast with the Guardians. Breakfast plates! Can you think of anything more inconsequential?”

I rifle through the bowls of gemstones, precious metals, and loose jewelry that are strewn about my desk, searching for some gold to melt. “Which one did you like best?”

“I picked some lovely yellow ones but was told that might appear I was playing favorites for the Gem Court, so I had Tavien choose for me, and he distracted them while I snuck out. If they can’t have my opinion, my Zemra’s will have to do.” There is a smile in her voice at the mention of her love.

Her Zemra.

Her soulbonded mate.

Ancient fae magic weaves their souls together for eternity, forging a powerful and irrevocable connection between Nueena and Tavien. They share a love I cannot even dare to dream about.

A Zemra’s soulbond is out of reach for half-mortals like myself.

I chuckle, grab a few spare coins, and return to her crown. As soon as I hold them, magic flows through me, drawn to the gold, which melts into a puddle within my cupped palm. The warm metal gleams, the last wilting piece fully submerged. I imagine the shape I want and command my magic to flow into the metal, and it shifts into its new floral form. Fluid petals rise up until the transformation fades and a gold rose sits solidly in my hand.

My charcoal sketches of the crown are spread on my work desk, and I compare the golden flower with my artwork, pleased with how it has turned out .

I agonized over the final design and details to create the perfect crown for Nueena. Spent months in the artisan markets hand-selecting each flawless gemstone. My masterpiece will be presented to her by my court’s Guardian at the Gem Court’s crowning ceremony as part of a grand display of loyalty to her and the High Ellovian Court.

Holding the heavy crown in one hand and the newly formed rose in the other, I place the golden flower gently onto the surface near the purple gemstone that adorns its center. At my touch, the underside of the flower welds to the metal, adding to the other gilded floral elements. The magic within me is quick to create, sending vibrations through my fingertips, eager to mold and to make.

“Your crown is almost complete,” I tell Nueena over my shoulder.

“Really?” Elation in her words. “I know I should love all the crown makers’ gifts equally, but I already know your court’s will be my favorite.”

Our backs are still to each other, so she misses my triumphant smile.

I touch six evenly spaced spots surrounding the large amethyst with my finger. With my touch, a hollow dip forms in the gold and I place an emerald in each crevice. Happy with the placement, I lightly tap each gemstone and the gold shimmers, moving like a wave around the emerald to secure it in place. I trace my finger around each stone and swirl etch into the crown; the liquid gold follows my finger’s path and creates new whorls and grooves in the glittering metal.

Perfect.

On the inside of her crown, in tiny cursive letters, I write my initials into the gold with my fingertip, signaling its completion. IA. Izadella Aranelle.

I wrap the crown in silks and place it on a stuffed pillow in a small, bejeweled golden travel chest. With one touch, the lock fuses together.

“You can turn around now. Your gift is hidden away. ”

I gently place her crown on the floor under my desk next to Farren’s fluffy bed, currently empty of the black small fox, before I grab my dagger off my workstation.

The forge’s low flames wink off the golden weapon. Engraved on the blade’s handle is Farren’s little fox face. I gather up the dark fabric of my travel skirt to expose the top of my thigh and place one heeled boot on the work stool. Leather cords are sewn together to make a holder deserving of the beautiful weapon. Attaching the bronze buckles together, I strap the dagger to my right leg. The leather pulls tight on my skin, leaving an impression on my ample thigh.

The gown I’ve chosen to wear tonight is a deep emerald green, almost the exact shade of Leon’s eyes, embroidered with gold thread in delicate swirls and leaves going up the curves of my thick waist. The neckline of my gown is jewel-encrusted and glimmers in the blue light. A streak of gold dust on my eyelids highlights my brown eyes.

One of the swords my father forged leans against the wall, and it is the last thing I grab.

“Is all your jewelry packed up for tonight?” Nueena asks. It’s not safe for her to join me on my journey to the mortal realm, but she always keeps me company as far as she can. Unlike the dark clothing I have to wear as part of my disguise into the mortal realm, she wears a fine riding gown of lilac.

Her Zemra necklace dangles around her neck; the small shard of amethyst is dull since Tavien’s twin crystal is parted from it. As part of their soulbond, the stones hold a small piece of each other’s magic.

Every full moon brings the familiar swirl of elation at seeing Leon, spending just a few moments with him, despite the fear of getting discovered. “Everything is ready to be sold at that wretched King’s Bazaar.” I take a step closer to her. “You know I appreciate you coming with me through the Merawood forest, but we may need to consider your safety more now that we’re so close to your coronation. This has to be the last night you come with me. It may no longer be safe for you?— ”

Nueena waves her hand dismissively to cut me off. I know before I can even ask her to stay behind that she will refuse. “You’ve never come close to getting caught sneaking into Adreania in the decades you’ve been bringing provisions to the mortals.” Her golden-brown eyes are tender, her smile reassuring, before she reaches up and affectionately flicks my nose. “Calm your worried heart, Del.”

My attempt to swat her hand away is thwarted when she grabs mine in midair, pulling me out of the small stone workshop that houses my forge and into the yard of my cottage.

The evening sun pours through the tall trees that surround my home, its fading light flickering off the surface of the small lake and painting my dearest friend of over a century in a gentle, warm glow. Frogs splash in the cool waters, and flowers grow in patches, filling the space between the trees and around the pond, giving the crisp air a kiss of floral sweetness.

“Besides,” she adds over her shoulder, “if we don’t go, how would you see that handsome healer you are so very fond of?” She winks at me and my heart beats faster at the mention of Leon.

In a few hours I’ll be in his presence. Just the thought of him spreads small flutters under my corset, my mouth going dry.

He is not mine of course, not really.

How could there be a future for us? Anyone in service to the mortal King Jedrick Fasaile lives a life fully devoted to him and the stolen fae crown he wears. Still, Leon claims my thoughts as I fall asleep each night.

I gently pull my hand from Nueena’s, my thick golden cuffs clinking together as I attempt to convince her one last time. “The Divide between the mortal and fae realms can still be dangerous and I’m not the one being crowned Realm Keeper in a few weeks. The entire Kingdom of Ellova needs you safe! Tavien needs you safe; I need you safe.” It's hopeless to argue with her, but it must be said. I’m sure she heard the same be safe speech from her Zemra before he helped sneak her out of the palace.

She ignores me and makes sweet humming noises to her horse, Citrine. “Della worries too much, doesn’t she? ”

I roll my eyes. Onyx, my horse, steps closer to me, dragging the wooden cart attached to him, and I give him an affectionate pat.

The large cart Nueena brought from the palace kitchens is filled with provisions for my mortal cousin, Cyanna, and the sweet children she cares for at her orphanage in the mortal realm. They are the reason I have left the protection of the fae realm every full moon for the past decade.

She is the last of my father’s bloodline, too precious to me to abandon.

Lining the bottom of the cart are jars filled with purple rice, dried beans, and finely ground brown flour, with sacks of potatoes and grains resting atop them. The delicious-smelling chocolate rolls are wrapped in small blue handkerchiefs and nestled alongside cooking oils, spices, and fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Help me hide my ears?” I reach into my pocket and pull out two short gold chains. She moves to stand behind me, gathering up half of my hip-length, reddish-golden curls. While I am only half-mortal, my fae ears would give me away.

At the sharp tips of my ears are piercings adorned with small, thick hoops. I clip each chain to the hoops and pull the ends of the chains together behind my head. My jewelsmith magic fires up within me and the tips of my fingers heat, the metal obeying my desire to fuse the pieces together. With the two chains forged together, it pulls my fae ears flat against the sides of my scalp, hiding them completely. Nueena lets down my hair and it falls over my honeyed, golden skin.

From the front, I look fully mortal.

“Ready to go?” I ask her. Our horses, Citrine, named after her golden eyes, and Onyx, wait patiently for us. They nibble on the small pink flowers that grow around the tallest tree in this forest, their coats dark as night. I slip my foot into the silver stirrup and mount my horse, fanning out my skirts to avoid wrinkles. The large leather satchel tied to Onyx’s saddle is brimming with the jewelry I’ve packed to be sold tonight at the King’s Bazaar.

The sky fades into a dusky purple. Together, we make our way deeper into the Merawood Forest—the woods that protect the fae realm of Ellova and separate it from the mortal kingdom of Adreania.

Above us, a harmony of unfurling petals welcomes the future ruler of Ellova. The bright flowers that cover the ground all turn to face Nueena as sunflowers do to the sun, the forest life blooming in her presence to acknowledge her power. Any branches in our way are pulled back by unseen magic, and buds grow beneath her horse, living a beautiful, brief existence before the soil reclaims them as if they were never there once she passes. Only their saccharine scent lingers. Fireflies follow lazily behind us as lush stalks of hydrangeas rise gracefully from the dirt with the last hint of sunlight illuminating our path.

Ancient trees of the Merawood Forest are undisturbed by mortals and fae alike. The mortals on the other side of the Divide do not know Ellova still exists, and the fae have no interest in venturing near the forest since the war.

A war the fae lost, and so they were never seen again by mortal eyes. Over the past few thousand years, we have become a myth to the mortals. With all the magic gone from their realm, and our existence hidden behind glamour and protective wards, we are nothing more than bedtime stories for small children.

We ride alongside a dreary, dry riverbed. Nueena frowns down at the smooth rocks.

Thousands of years ago it held the healing waters from Airvell River, the river of magic that the fae allowed to flow through the Merawood Forest and into the mortal realm. Now, it’s nothing but an empty reminder that the fae gave the mortals healing and prosperity during the brief union of realms. That there was once peace before the mortals’ betrayal.

A betrayal that Adreania is still being punished for.

We are only alone for a few moments before I hear a rustling in the trees above us. My heart leaps with joy at the ball of dark fur and bright blue eyes that peer down.

Farren, my beloved pet fox, sits waiting for us. His pointed nose tips up, smelling the air before he scampers to the lowest branch. He lets me pull him into my lap, careful of his sharp nails as he sticks his nose under my hand for attention, and I scratch his ears while we ride.

“When will you be back at the palace?” Nueena asks. “We still have some planning to do for the coronation ball. Perhaps the Gem Court has someone you would wish to take?” Nueena keeps her head straight but her eyes slide to me in question. “Might be nice to have someone to dance with that evening.”

My gaze is drawn up to the new stars that have joined the evening sky. “My court has plenty of worthy dance partners. Ellova has no shortage of males to entertain myself with, plenty of them happy to keep my bed warm too, but—” Any relationship built during my half-mortal life would end in heartbreak for the fae male who chose to be with me, condemning him to grieve for a lifetime far, far longer than mine. My words come out numbly. “—it simply isn’t worth the risk. And Leon is…’’

“The one you actually want to be with,” she adds quietly, nodding with understanding. She’s heard about Leon every full moon since I first met him two years ago tonight.

I force a laugh, the sound bitter on my lips. “Not that allowing myself to get attached to a mortal is a brilliant idea, either.” Any relationship with a mortal like Leon was impossible. Where would we even go to be together?

Mortals are forbidden in Ellova.

I could not live in the mortal realm, where I would succumb to death without the magic to keep me alive and delay my aging. He couldn’t reside in Ellova, where the magic drives mortals to madness.

It never stops my wishful thoughts, though.

Sharp black spires peek out from above the treetops. The Iron Castle of Adreania. Somewhere in that desolate castle, Leon is probably preparing for tonight.

I wonder if he’s thinking of me too, or if the sensation of falling when I think of him is a blissful torture only I endure.

“What type of commission did Leon make up for this month?” Nueena’s tone is light, calling me back from my dark thoughts.

“A sapphire tiara for Princess Lyrora. ”

“With how horrible of a king her father is on top of the horror of having Prince Grayden as a brother, she deserves a closet full of them,” Nueena says with a scowl.

Farren hops down to chase the small, plump red mushrooms popping up from the ground. He lets out a frustrated huff when the fungus disappears before he gives up to chase mossy spirals winding up the thick trunks.

We ride in silence as more stars slowly appear, twinkling above us as we come to the Divide. Nueena is off her horse in a flash. New flowers burst around her feet the moment she touches the ground. She releases the dagger at her belt and bends down to slice the stems, gathering up the newly formed bouquet to press her nose into the petals. Nueena inhales as she rises to her full height and gently places them in the cart.

She returns the dagger I made for her hundredth birthday to her belt, the handle shaped like twisting leaves. “Ready?” she asks, staring up at me. The gentle pulse of magic flowing gently follows Nueena; occasionally it swirls around her, moving her hair like a soft breeze.

I dismount from Onyx. “My love, time for you to keep Nueena company.”

He looks back up at me, blinking his understanding, and dashes in circles at Nueena’s feet.

The stillness grows as we walk towards the invisible barrier of the Divide, where the Merawood Forest ends and the mortal realm begins.

Just as the Verge protects us in the fae realm on the other side of the forest, the Divide holds in the mortal kingdom of Adreania in the south. Kalvorn is north of Ellova; Merawood Forest stands between the two kingdoms, keeping us in Ellova safe. A mountain range keeps Adreania and Kalvorn apart, with Versairen across the sea.

This is the worst part: the Divide is not meant to be crossed by those who hold magic within them as the fae do. It was constructed to keep us safe inside it after the war. No matter how many times I step into the mortal realm, the apprehension for the crossing sits like sharp rocks within me.

Like a scythe has sliced the realms in two, the faint shimmer of the barrier between realms is only visible from the right angle, but the presence of two different worlds is stark at our feet. The demarcation line is visible under the moonlight that illuminates our way. We stand on the soft green grass filled with small white flowers at the edge. Behind us is the rich green forest overflowing with life and magic, but we face nothing but dirt and rocks, a blanket of death.

A sea of barren trees with branches more akin to bone than bark stand at odd angles, hanging listlessly. Small piles of snow that have yet to melt are scattered across the ground.

Nueena frowns down at dead grass that has started to creep under the Divide like black veins burning its way into the Merawood Forest. “The darkness is spreading.” She kicks at the blackened soil. “The enchantments protecting the forest should not have allowed this. We need to tell my parents that the wards are failing and the magic is being siphoned again. They should see the corruption for themselves before I secure the wards.”

“Could it be something else?” I bend down to run my fingers over the inky veins that branch out from one another like a lightning strike.

“The stolen fae crown King Jedrick wears is the only magical item in the mortal realm but I can think of no other reason this would be happening again. The wards have stood for thousands of years.” Nueena’s lip curls in disgust when the wind picks up, carrying the overwhelming smell of damp dirt and rotting wood from the broken branches that litter the forest floor in front of us.

Nueena’s expression is solemn as I prepare to cross. Her scent of raspberry, vanilla, and lilies envelops me as we wrap our arms around each other. “Be safe,” we say at the same time, sharing a small smile of reassurance when we pull apart.

I try one last time for her to return to the safety of the palace. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be fine.”

She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “Someone needs to know where you are and when you return.” She pulls a blanket from her satchel and lays it over the bed of flowers at her feet.

“We will be right here.” She sits, and Farren moves to follow me, but she gathers him up in her arms.

I nod, giving Farren one last chin scratch, and pull Onyx into the mortal realm.