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

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

O ur glasses touch, the sound echoing around the room as we take large gulps of the sweet wine.

My eyes have drifted to Leon’s mouth, and he takes another bite of the cookie. Licking his lips, he looks at me and I turn quickly to place the chicken thighs in the now-sizzling pan. A small potted plant of rosemary sits next to the sink, and I pull a few pieces off, ready to throw them in the pan with the butter when the meat is almost done cooking. The kettle announces its readiness with a hissing steam and I set it off to the side of the stove, silk tea pouches waiting in the cups as the water pours in.

My head aches. I need to get back to the palace as soon as possible. There must be something in one of the Ink Court’s libraries on removing unwanted magical items. The crown does not belong on my head but it belongs in Ellova, with the fae. It stole so much magic from Ellova before the war.

If I had the strength, I would leave now, but the journey back to Nueena would be impossible. The crown’s magic brings an unending pressure from within that exhausts me, the heaviness making a home inside my body.

All I can do tonight is get enough rest to make it back to my other home in the palace tomorrow, so I focus on Leon .

Leaving my side, Leon starts to wander around the room, gazing at the art on the walls. Twisted yarn with frayed ends holds bronze planters above our heads; the plant’s bright leaves descend over the edges, draping past a soft emerald-colored couch near the window.

He holds up the charcoal sketch of the necklace I will be making for the coronation ball. The outline is of a teardrop emerald with small diamonds all around it. Putting it down, he moves on to the novel I read before bed. It’s a thick cherry-red book about two lovers with not much plot. He flips through a few pages, his thumb saving my place. He raises one neat eyebrow as he reads a passage.

I point to one of the chairs. “Sit down.”

He follows my instructions as I grab a medical aid box from under the bed and a clean cloth from the kitchen. I give his boot a light kick to get him to open his legs to make room for me. He leans forward and spreads his knees wide, grinning up at me. I try not to think about his strong thighs as I move between them and apply a thick green healing paste to his bruise and swelling. The paste works swiftly when it touches his skin, and his injuries fade under my fingertips. He is looking at me with an intensity that I want to look away from, but I find myself staring back. I’ve thought about him every day for two years but never imagined him here, in my home, so close to me.

Once his injuries have healed completely, I wipe the magical salve off and he looks like he always has, infuriatingly handsome. He looks at my lips, and I step away from the intensity swirling in his gaze. The chair creaks and I see the tight grip he has on the edges of his seat.

“Can you grab me two plates from the cupboard, please?” The question comes out a little strained and I clear my throat.

He gets up and opens the cupboard with a laugh. “Is everything you own gold? You have more gold in this kitchen than half the court.”

“Family heirlooms.” Hopefully, he doesn’t ask me to elaborate.

Turning back to the stove, I add the rosemary and extra butter to the chicken. I take a swig directly from the wine bottle, drinking deeply before lightly shoving the bottle at his chest. He drinks, watching as I dice up a zucchini and add it to the pan with the chicken. I busy myself with cutting some soft purple cheese and spreading it on the flaky brown bread I baked this morning. Once everything is cooked, I make us both our plates, which he takes to the small table while I bring the teacups. A blue crystal vase sits in the middle of the table with a cheery floral bouquet.

“Do you have any diamond-encrusted silverware around here?” Leon asks.

“No, I prefer to eat with my hands. It keeps me humble.” I sit down, pretending not to make a move to get anything.

He laughs at my joke.

I stare at him. “A few years in the castle and you are too good for your hands?”

“Says the woman with a kitchen full of gold.”

I make a poor attempt to hide my smirk but go to the kitchen and bring back the cookie tin, cutlery, and a pair of tiny gold teaspoons for the small pot of sugar.

Guests so rarely visit me here. It is nice to have company.

His company.

He eats a forkful of zucchini, even though it’s searing hot from the pan, and makes little noises of pleasure. As he makes his tea, he adds heaping teaspoons of the sugar crystals to the dark liquid.

“I haven’t had a vegetable in years. This is amazing, Arra. Thank you.”

“Which one do you miss the most?”

“Peppers, especially the green ones.”

I want to ask more about his life, but he is having a private moment with his dinner, and who am I to stand between a man and his summer squash?

He chews slowly and thoughtfully for a while before looking up.

“I know they have vegetables in the castle. Were you not allowed to partake?”

His face hardens. “I tend not to partake in luxury while others starve.”

I shouldn’t be surprised but I am. “That’s honorable of you. How did you end up as the Royal Physician to King Jedrick, anyway? It’s a rare honor, so you must be very good at keeping kings alive.”

He takes another bite, chewing slowly before answering. “Clearly not.”

A moment of guilt passes through me. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. I had a passion for medicine and saw it was needed, so I went to school. After I attended a small university, I left with excellent recommendations from my professors, and I was able to become an apprentice under a prominent healer at the Versairen Medical Palliation. I stayed there for a number of years before I opened my own medical practice. When Princess Erenia was unable to conceive, Grayden tasked my mentor with figuring out why. He implied it may be Grayden’s fault and was killed for it, unfortunately. That meant a spot opened up and I came highly recommended. I’ve been with Jedrick for two years, as you know.”

A sharp hurt twists in my chest for the lost healer, Princess Erenia, and Grayden’s casual cruelty. “He has been vocal about wanting an heir. She hasn’t conceived yet?”

“No, and she will not. Not with the number of conception-delaying elixirs she has me prepare for her instead of her morning tea.”

My mouth opens in surprise. “You have been aiding her to avoid pregnancy?”

“Of course. The first question I asked Erenia was if she wanted a child. She said no, so that was the end of that. Under Grayden’s orders, she comes to see me weekly for her…medication. Mostly we just play cards.” He gives me a sly smile as he sips his wine.

“What did you tell Grayden?”

“The truth as to why birth rates are low all over the kingdom. Fruits and vegetables have vitamins and minerals women desperately need to have healthy babies. The sickness we call faerie’s revenge ravages his people without aid, we’re plagued with drought, and the wealthy overwork the most vulnerable citizens of his kingdom. All of that will have lasting effects, a sickness not seen anywhere else. I believe it has something to do with the crown, that somehow it is draining the life out of Adreania. Grayden seems to think he can change that once he has the crown, bragging constantly that the land will stop being such a barren and desolate place when he is king. He is a fool to think he has any magic to effect change with the crown.”

“So he’s turning farmers into soldiers to steal what Kalvorn has?”

“That could be, but he implied he had a different plan, claiming he has a way to bring back the lost fae magic. He boasted that there would be so much bounty, it would rot in the streets while everyone went to bed with full bellies.”

Grayden’s ignorance brings out a hollow laugh from me. “Any idea how he would accomplish such a monumental achievement?”

“Unfortunately, no. I tried to get Jedrick to find out, but he was so tired and old, he couldn’t bring himself to care.”

Grayden’s claim that he can bring back magic while also being in the possession of navlue fruit proves he has access to someone from Ellova? What is he planning and why would he not tell his own father?

“Is Jedrick…? Was he different behind closed doors? He seemed all too happy to turn his back on his people so he could live a lavish life immune to their suffering.”

Leon shakes his head gravely. “He was a coward, which is why I will not mourn him. I’ve known him for years, even when I was an apprentice. He wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed in the end. Grayden—” He says his name like a curse. “—was a bully to everyone, even his own father. For the past few years, many laws and rules were placed on the people by Grayden forging the royal seal. Jedrick knew.”

I shrug. “Well, the whole reason I sold at the bazaar was to make money for those in Beggars’ Row. I only risked venturing into Adreania once a month to bring my cousin food, but I could help more by selling jewelry, so that’s how I funded my…assistance. The coins my jewelry earns are enough to provide for the families there ’til I can return.”

“So it was you.” His face softens. “For a while, there was an investigation as to why money flowed out from that corner. It was never solved. They were quite loyal to you.”

Warmth fills my chest.

“How did you become the Royal Jeweler? That has to be an interesting story. Every jewelry maker I’ve ever met was a burly, sweaty male. I know I say this every month, but you make such beautiful designs.”

“Thank you,” I say, looking down at my plate and cutting up the last few bites of the tender chicken, trying for the closest version of the truth I can offer. “I had a family member who served the court as a swordsmith, and my family still held on to the little shop. My last name was known for beautiful work many years ago, so I opened the shop since the reputation had survived. Only open one day per month. Sold out of everything each day with lines down the road. I claimed it was because it took a month to make all the items and everyone believed me. Sold that way for a few years until it caught Jedrick’s attention. I was invited to the bazaar years ago and made extra coins there.” I shrug.

“Well, now you are unable to return there and your focus should be keeping yourself safe. I can protect you. I need to protect you! Tomorrow we leave for?—”

I do not bother to hide the annoyance on my face at his remarks regarding my safety. “First of all, I don’t need protection. I thought we established that. Or did you miss the part where I knocked the three men who were holding Jedrick captive on their asses?”

“Well, I did miss that actually. I was running a little late, but I’m absolutely sure you were spectacular. I’m simply stating that you have upon your head the crown two kingdoms are about to go to war over. So perhaps you should not be gallivanting in a cursed forest!”

I scoff, which makes him narrow his eyes. “Leon. I. Live. Here. As I have for decades. If two kingdoms are about to go to war over this—” I point to the cursed crown. “—then I need to disappear. You say that Grayden would keep me as a pet, lock me in a dungeon ’til he can find a way to remove the crown, most likely with my head still attached? Who’s to say that if the Kalvornian king finds me, he won’t do the same? This crown isn’t coming off and I can’t risk being found.” The anger worsens the pounding in my head.

Leon opens the cookie tin again, handing me one before he bites into his own. “We will find a way to remove it, I promise. For now, we only know two things about the stolen crown: that it once held magic lost to us, magic no mortal can use, and that it was only meant to be worn by an heir of the Fasaile line.”

I roll my eyes, chewing on the cookie he gave me. “No, that’s false. It has nothing to do with the Fasaile line. They were never involved ’til it was stolen from Queen Inara, who was fae. The crown was created for her and keyed to work with her particular type of magic. Magically forged items can have a mind of their own once the original wielder passes. Magic is fickle. Being Inara’s heir has nothing to do with it; it has more to do with the fact that the wearer has the power to control the magic.”

Leon stills. I may have given too much away.

Fuck.

He is quiet for a moment, assessing me, before saying, “There is something you are not telling me, isn’t there? Like how you would know all this and why the crown is no longer black. Why even now I can feel its magic radiating off you.”

I have no answer to that besides the truth, but I can’t say that. “I have no idea why the crown would change colors. Perhaps it is because we are out of Adreania? It is said that magic still lingers here. Maybe that is true.” I go back to eating my bread, trying to appear bored with this conversation.

His eyes move rapidly. I can almost see him place the pieces together. “Arra, are you fae?”