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

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

G rayden continues his hate-filled monologue. “Our spies have returned and we now know Kalvorn is readying their armies to come for the crown. They are preparing to invade since we will not bow down to them and give them what they want. We will fight! So tonight we celebrate and tomorrow we plan. Once I am king, a new era will rise!”

He raises an arm in the direction of his wife. “Not only will we have magic, we have your crown princess’s mother kingdom of Versairen on our side. We will not lose!”

Princess Erenia’s hands and jaw are so tightly clenched that I worry for the princess’s teeth. Part of her marriage treaty to Grayden dictates if one kingdom goes to war, the other must fight with them. Cheers follow him as he walks past her without a glance and leaves the dais. The music starts up again.

The thought of him becoming king, wearing the stolen fae crown only to pollute the land with his cruelty, fills me with sorrow. The people of Adreania are already going hungrier every season. King Jedrick may not be evil like his son but the soil struggles to produce a harvest. With each passing year, less and less grows. The land is dying, and its citizens suffer. Grayden will only bring more pain. He has no way to control magic; even if he could access all the magic that has been stored in the crown for thousands of years, it would destroy him.

That amount of magic would drive him to madness in mere moments. His mortal form is incapable of surviving it. He should be grateful the magic is dormant for now, needing a fae to release it, or his line would have ended long ago.

Passed down from power-hungry father to power-hungry son, the crown sits like a stone on Jedrick’s head.

A woman with light brown hair who has been gossiping in the crowd close to my booth starts to gasp and cough, sending nearby courtiers into a frenzy to get away from her in fear she may have the sickness. A few others start to panic, looking around for the sound. I watch in horror as two guards go up to the coughing woman, ready to remove her.

“I just choked on my wine!” she gasps. “I’m not ill. Please don’t. I’m fine, truly!” Her terrified expression with the deep wheeze to her words makes the statement unconvincing.

The guards don’t seem to care whether it is an illness or an accident. Not stopping, they move towards her to force her outside.

I look frantically towards the dais for Leon. What will the guards do to a woman they suspect to be ill? Relief rushes into my chest at the sight of him jumping off the dais to the ballroom floor, abandoning his king’s side.

He takes long, powerful strides in our direction as guards roughly grab the woman. “Wait. WAIT!” The command in Leon’s voice stops my heart for a moment.

Leon comes up behind the guards, who pause, looking towards their king for clarification if the healer is to be obeyed. Jedrick gives a slow nod and they fall back a few steps.

“Let me check on her,” Leon demands. In a soft tone just for her, he says, “This way, please.” He offers a gentle, reassuring smile.

She tearfully nods, quick to follow him further into the room, closer to me. I suspect she would have called the other women friends before this moment, but now they make a show of getting out of her way. Off to the side near my booth, Leon asks for permission to examine her and she agrees, tears streaming down her face.

“Can you lift your hair for me and turn around?” He gives her a reassuring look.

She does what he says, holding her breath, hands shaking. He checks her unblemished neck, which lacks the stark purple rash that would be spreading down the length of her spine were she afflicted.

“Nothing to worry about, no discoloration that I can see,” he says loudly to the small crowd. To her, he adds, “All is well. Return to the celebration. Perhaps avoid the wine.”

Her face crumples with relief before she throws her arms around him. Even whispers of the sickness would have caused her to lose her social standing. Undeserved jealousy burns bright within me for a moment but the coughing woman quickly pulls away from him, her eyes wide, perhaps realizing hugging the king’s personal healer is not something done in polite society.

“Thank you,” she says with a hiccup, pink coloring her cheeks.

The feeling of jealousy fades slightly when his eyes slide to me for a moment before he gives her a kind, uncomfortable smile and sends her on her way back to her friends. No matter how improper it was to show gratitude in that way, she still got to embrace him, even if it was just for a moment.

To wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth.

A touch denied to me.

Following the departure of the royal siblings, actors line up on the dais that has been transformed into a stage, musicians readying their instruments, signaling that the performance of the night is about to begin. King Jedrick sits off to one side to watch the performance. A retelling of his life to honor him.

Again.

Every bazaar, some play portrays the lives of past kings or Jedrick’s exaggerated greatness. It’s all a pile of fresh horseshit.

Servants move the massive candelabras towards the front to light the stage while the crowd moves closer for a better view. One of the actors in a large fake crown has fallen to the ground in a theatrical death, and the actor portraying a young Jedrick grabs the crown off the dead king, quickly placing it on himself while the crowd cheers.

Leon faces the stage, watching the play, for a moment before slowly turning towards me, and our eyes lock.

The cool metal of a ruby necklace I'm holding slips through my fingers and hits the table, knocking over an earring display, much to the alarm of the noblewoman who is purchasing it. She has my apologies but not my attention as she drops a bag of coins on the table and leaves with a huff.

So quickly I almost miss it, he nods in the direction of the nearly empty wine table, and he casually heads that way.

I lay the purple velvet cloth over the last of the bright jewelry, and a few guards step closer to my abandoned table. The women still shopping make irritated noises but move on to other vendors.

Drawn to him as I am every night I slip into this miserable kingdom, I approach the wine table. It would be wise to wait for him to come to my booth, but the temptation for just a few extra moments with him is too alluring.

Leon stands with his back to me, inspecting the wine bottles laid out on decorative blue fabrics for the courtiers and a few of the chosen vendors.

He doesn’t turn, only stands taller when he senses my presence. His head tilts slightly in my direction, and alarmingly green eyes gaze at me as he places an empty crystal wine glass in front of me.

Without breaking our eye contact, he sips on his freshly poured wine. I beam at him and for a moment we just stare, lost in each other.

A few lords and ladies linger at the end table to boast of their profits from the month while drinking bottles of the finest wine imported from Versairen, the kingdom across the Elbasan Sea, paying no attention to the handsome healer and me.

My heart beats wildly and I am suddenly thankful mortals have such poor hearing. “Healer Leon, how are you this evening?” I keep my voice low, only for him.

“Quite well, Lady Arra. The bazaar is always my favorite night of the month.” He smiles briefly and it steals a little of the breath out of me. “It brings the best company.” His deep voice melts some of the fear I carry as I tempt fate with my deceptions here.

“That it does,” I whisper. The sensation of fluttering luna moths erupts in my stomach in his presence.

I pretend to look at the bottles but Leon leans across me, his outstretched arm ever so slightly sliding up against my own. His shy smile widens at my sharp intake of breath. He selects a cerulean crystal bottle and pours the pale wine into my waiting glass.

“I asked the wine master this morning. It is the driest they have available tonight,” he says, handing it to me.

We can only speak for a handful of minutes each month like this. I’ve told him so little about myself, and what I have revealed has been twisted with lies upon lies. The only truth he knows about me is my love for dry alcohol. As I take a small sip, the bitter taste of the oaked wine coats my mouth. Every month, for the first moments in his presence, I can barely focus on anything but him. I’m struck by his features; he’s handsome in a way that brings a flutter to my stomach at having all of his attention. His sharp jaw is dusted with a shadow that has not seen a blade in days. His nose is prominent and perfectly straight.

The bustling ball around me seems to fade when he looks at me, every bit of my longing reflected back at me in those emerald eyes, pulling me in.

“Thank you.” I keep my voice low. The delicious tartness of the wine draws me to drink more. He is quiet for a moment, watching the glass rise to my lips again. He clears his throat before speaking, finally looking up at me.

How can one mortal be this fucking handsome? A gray streak of hair slides from the leather strap that holds it back and falls in front of his eye. I envision my fingers gliding through his hair, roughly pulling him towards me. To sink into him with a burning kiss and peel off the layers he wears as he hastily removes my gown.

“I received your letters after I returned from my travels. I apologize for the delay in response.” I hope he can hear the sincerity in my voice .

He nods; his answering smile is charitable. “I was beginning to believe you were avoiding me.”

“No! Never!” His smile widens at how quickly the words rush out of me. “I’ve done some traveling this month, sourcing new materials. My journeys often take me away from my shop.”

“May I call upon you tonight, then, after the bazaar? Or even tomorrow? I can return to your shop. I wish to speak with you privately.” His easy grin has vanished, his eyebrows slightly together with an intensity he has never shown me before. “It is of the utmost importance.”

I should tell him that would not be possible, as nothing he needed to tell me could possibly matter to me. Outside of Beggars’ Row, Adreania holds no mortal affairs I need to trouble myself with, but looking at him, I find I cannot resist a few extra minutes with him tonight.

“I’m heading to the coast tomorrow. I hope to be back by the next bazaar, though my business there may keep me away for longer.” Disappointment fills me from having to lie to him once again. I need to give him a reason not to show up again at my empty shop in the future or ask questions why the shop sits empty all month, devoid of the family I pretend to have.

His face pulls down slightly and I do not miss how his shoulders slump just a fraction, so I quickly add, “But you may escort me when I return to my shop tonight. I will not have much time and the walk may be cold, but I’ll be glad of your company this evening.”

Relief paints his face; Small creases appear at the corners of his green eyes when his smile returns. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

His happiness at my words fades slightly and is replaced with a slight frown. “H-how is your family?”

The false family crafted from my endless falsehoods. The one I spun when first arriving here to make my lie convincing after Grayden showed a bit too much interest in me years ago. The husband, a blacksmith, and three little ones, or was it two?

“They are fine.” What did I say their names were again? Oh, Ellova’ s grave, don’t ask more questions about them. One was definitely named Arra, so that was easy.

“Are your children happy to be out of school?”

“Oh, yes, very much so.” I’m not entirely sure about school schedules, what mortal children learn, or why they wouldn’t be continuing their education.

In Ellova, fae children are called dewlings; their education is integrated into everyday life if they are not at the Ink Court for lessons. Before I can change the topic, he leans in closer, a deep frown on the lips I’ve spent years fantasizing about. After glancing in both directions to see if anyone is paying us any attention, I lean forward, offering him my ear.

“It is best if you are getting away. Jedrick is terribly ill.” His voice is a whisper, lips ever so slightly brushing my ear, sending a shiver down my back.

“I will light some candles for his recovery.” Overwhelmed with his presence, I all but moan the lie.

“Lady Arra, if something happens and I am unable to meet you tonight, promise me something. When you get word that Jedrick has died, do not return here ever again, for any reason, no matter what anyone from the castle says or threatens. Do you understand me?”

The last part is not a suggestion and his words pour ice into my veins, extinguishing any lust that was kindling within me.

“It will no longer be safe for anyone but especially for you once Jedrick passes. I overheard Grayden speaking about you.” His green eyes darken with anger. “You have caught his vile attention, so you must leave. No matter what you hear, when the royal death trumpets blast, stay far away from here.” He pauses before adding in a tender voice, “I will be able to sleep knowing you are safe at the coast. If possible, stay away as long as you can.”

Before I can ask why I suddenly have Grayden’s attention again after years of being ignored by the prince, a group of drunk courtiers surround the table, attempting to take a few bottles of wine we stand in front of. Questions swirl, but whatever he is saying this for, it is not safe to discuss it here, so I only nod .

He lightly touches my elbow, guiding me away from the boisterous lords, but it’s too late.

“Healer!” One of them lifts their glass, spilling some of his red wine down his arm, staining his sleeve. “Come cheers to the king’s health! The jewelry maker can join us!”

Under his breath, Leon mutters, “Fuck.” He leans down to my ear. “Head back to your table and I will be there shortly.”

Without a glance back, I stride towards my table to find a woman standing in front of it. It's not until I pass the vendors closest to me that I hear their whispers.

Princess .