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

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

B irds call to one another, adding to the sounds of the forest waking up beneath the vanishing purple sky. Slivers of early sunlight peek in behind my sheer white curtains.

Delightfully aware of warmth on both sides of me, I do not believe I have ever rested so well. Much of yesterday’s pain has faded. Farren is curled up and snuggling in my arms, his snout resting on my bicep. He smells faintly like the dirt he loves to play in and the sweet blackberry patch he naps under on warm days. My soul swells with adoration at that little face and his purr of contentment.

The love for this small creature spreads through me. He’s just as much family to me as Nueena and Tavien are.

The other warmth is Leon. His bare chest presses against my back, one arm wrapped around my waist. My nightshirt has ridden up, so he clings to my stomach, his fingers grasping my soft flesh. The short consideration of moving is whisked away when he pulls me closer to him, his arm tightening. His face finds my neck, but his steady breathing leads me to believe he is still fast asleep.

Farren peers up at me, sleep still in his eyes. I kiss his nose, my lips striking quickly before he can get away from my affections. He side-eyes me and slips gracefully from my arms, stretching before jumping off the bed.

“Don’t pretend we weren’t cuddling,” I whisper to my little beast. He looks at me with a bored expression before slinking off towards the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t dare to pretend such things,” Leon says and I can fight the smile no longer. His breathing is slow and rhythmic, still clinging to sleep; his nose is just under my ear. It moves slowly down and he inhales my scent before brushing his lips lightly against me. I let out a little gasp at his unexpected but not unwelcome tenderness.

“Not you. Go back to sleep.” With my arms free of my pet, I place my hand over Leon’s on my waist, interlacing our fingers, which is met with a tight squeeze from him. I give in to the cloud of tiredness still in my head and close my eyes again.

“You first.” I can feel his smile on my skin as he says it.

I yawn. “One more hour and then we get up.”

“Deal.’’ He somehow manages to pull me even closer, and sleep finds me again.

T he smell of roasted potatoes and bacon rouses me from sleep. The bed is cool and empty this time, now that both of my heat sources are in the kitchen. I pull the blankets tighter around myself and watch a shirtless Leon whisk something in a small bowl. Farren is on the counter, a place he knows he’s not allowed to be, accepting small bites of meat from Leon, who chops up bacon and throws it into the mixture.

He has opened the windows for a soft breeze, but the cottage is warm from his cooking. My heart tightens at the way he takes care of me; the view of him in my small kitchen is unexpected. He is whispering to Farren, who looks at him with a surprising amount of concentration. My little pet found someone to feed him and let him get up on the counter; Leon has made a friend for life.

He chops up vegetables before adding them into a roasting pan. When I finally do sit up, the world spins as the magic rushes up and down, flooding my body. My stomach lurches, bringing with it a sickening swell that makes me gag. The magic is awake and seemingly livid it found me still in possession of it. I pull my knees towards me and cover my face with my hands as the nausea rises. Some noises of movement and the oven door shuts in the kitchen. The sound of his bare feet walking across my floor only gives me a brief warning Leon has made his way over to me. The bed dips as he sits back down, placing a strong hand on the curve of my back, rubbing in deep circles to soothe me.

“I’m all right.” Mumbling into my knees, I lean into his touch.

“Are you sure? Can I get you anything?” His voice is soft and full of gentle worry as his hands move across my spine. We stay like that for a few minutes, and I enjoy his touch as the nausea subsides until only the angry pressure remains. Slowly I turn my head to face him.

“Hello.” It comes out weakly.

“Good morning.” He smiles down at me with concern.

I try to stay focused on his face and not the bare chest inches from me. My eyes betray me, and I glance down to the taut muscles and thick torso. “You know, for a healer, you have quite the physical form. Did you have an excess of available time in your medical education to work on building those muscles?”

“Oh, yes, positions within medicine are notorious for leisurely activities.” He nudges my shoulder gently but sobers. “Jedrick required I be trained with his guard as well, just in case I came down as his last defense.”

“In case three armed men sneak in and kidnap him, or, I guess, ‘kingnap’ him.” I regret the jest for a moment; maybe that’s too far, but thankfully he laughs. It’s rich and invites my smile to widen.

“Yes, but based on my previous performance I shall focus on healing from now on. Perhaps guard duty is not a strength of mine.”

“Three against one is hardly a fair fight,” I add helpfully.

“Ah, but you handled them just fine. One day you will have to tell me how you accomplished that. ”

Well, he has a point there. I almost point out that I had magic on my side but perhaps it’s just best to leave it. “What are you making that smells so divine? I am surprised you know how to cook.”

“What is cooking if not alchemy with different ingredients? My mother made sure I knew how to cook. I should be offended by your remark,” he teases. “I wasn’t up there with a silver spoon in my hand, you know. It was demanding labor, unlike most of the fools of Jedrick’s court, who lay around all day and complained.”

It is my turn to bump his shoulder. “Well, thank you for making breakfast. I haven’t had a meal made for me here in a long time.” The memory of my mother making rosemary pancakes for me and Nueena over a century ago appears vividly in my mind. The smell of warm butter and rich herbs, her laughter as she watched us play together. Before my father’s death broke her heart so completely.

“In the pantry I noticed there was quite a bit of dried meat. A favorite of yours?” he teases.

Most certainly not a favorite of mine but everything is overly sweet in Ellova, like having cake for every meal. The dried meats help with the craving for something savory. “You could say that, but it’s probably not as good as whatever you made now. Is it ready?”

Leon moves slowly off the bed and extends his hand to me. I take the assistance, and after I stand, he places a firm hand low on my back to ensure I’m strong enough on my feet. Stepping behind the partition in a corner, I change into tight black pants and a loose, deep green tunic that reaches the tops of my thighs, where my dagger is harnessed. When he sees me, he almost drops the bowl.

“Are you all right over there, healer? Haven’t seen a woman in pants in a while, huh?”

He clears his throat, putting the bowl on the counter. “You can say that. Women wore them in Versairen, but the Adreanians are a bit more…traditional.”

My eyes narrow. “The word you seek is oppressed.”

He nods solemnly. “Yes, forgive me. I would agree that is a better term.”

I sit at the table he has already set for us: plum juice, slices of grilled bread with blackberry jam on it, and salted butter on the side.

“You seemed to have been busy in the kitchen this morning. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“I was. I hope you don’t mind. These are luxuries I haven’t had in years. Jam? Fruit juice? Leafy greens? I feel like a king.”

I laugh. “Cook away. Whatever you wish to use is fine. Everything here is easy to replace and I’m happy for anything you make me.”

He turns back to the kitchen. Even though he has spent the morning cooking, the kitchen is clean, freshly washed pots and pans drying on the rack.

“We need to leave as soon as we finish. Grayden may not notice Jedrick’s disappearance for a few hours, but I wish for us to be as far away as possible.”

Guilt, fear, and dread beat as one in my chest.

“What do you normally do in the mornings?” he asks.

I’m unsure of what to tell him. Well, Leon, Ellova, the realm thought to be a myth, is real. Most of my time is spent with my closest friend, Nueena, heir to the Ellovian throne. I’m treated like royalty in its palace, there’s never a shortage of balls and parties, and I have enough gems to make jewelry for a millennium.

I go for the barest truth of my life. “I go for rides or a long walk before I start my work in the workshop.”

“Has that always been your business?”

“Yes and no. My mother, also worked with metals, mostly swords. My father, Nolan, was the business end, from what I understood, though he was also a talented and sought-after swordsmith in Adreania. That was a long time ago, though. Now I spend the month between bazaars making pieces to sell.”

“What happened to your parents?” he asks in a low voice.

“My father died when I was young, and the heartbreak from his death took my mother soon after. She died when I was fifteen but thankfully my friend’s family welcomed me into theirs.” It was over a hundred years ago but a fresh wave of grief washes over me.

Leon freezes in the kitchen before slowly turning back to me. He walks over and kneels on one knee before me. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Fifteen is far too young to know such heartache.”

I swallow hard, not knowing what to say. “Yes, it was, but please don’t burn your lovely meal on my account. It was a long time ago, truly.”

“I lost my parents as well, too far to have been able to say goodbye. I know that unending ache. I’m here, though, if you ever wish to speak of them.”

Leon squeezes my knees, his hands lingering for a moment before he stands and returns to the kitchen. He pulls the baking dish from the oven and begins slicing into the eggs mixed with meat and vegetables, sprinkled with cheese. He scoops up the potatoes and chopped vegetables in the pan and adds it to the plate, sprinkling everything with flaky sea salt and coarse pepper. He sets down the golden plate in front of me with a flourish.

My mouth waters at his hard work. “This looks amazing, Leon.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to feel useful.”

What an odd thing to say. “You didn’t feel useful as the royal healer?”

Leon sets down his plate and joins me. “Jedrick was terrified of illness. He kept mostly to his room; anyone who came into his chambers needed to have washed in hot water and herbs and, at times, even had to wear leather gloves. He had tasters for everything; even his bathwater was drunk before he would soak. Paranoia because of Grayden. Quite a few attempts were made on his life with poison, but the crown protected him even from that. A minuscule amount of my medical knowledge was used. The only time I ever felt useful was assisting the castle servants or Beggars’ Row, but even then, I could only help in the times I could slip away from him.”

“He was a terrible king, so concerned with his own illness. What of the sickness that spreads in the streets? How many suffered?”

“You will find no argument from me on that, but I think he was desperate to keep the crown from Grayden. The longer he lived, the more time he could buy the kingdom. Grayden got away with a lot of abuse of power, but with his father alive and hiding in his rooms, he was never truly in charge.”

My eyes roll before I can stop them. “Do not try to make him into a martyr, Leon. He watched silently as his people suffered up until the end.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, so I start eating. The breakfast is delicious, and as I am about to compliment his meal, he speaks in a low, almost saddened voice. “Jedrick was most certainly complicit in all the pain and suffering his family has caused. I’m personally glad he’s dead, but I also know how much worse Adreania will be because of it. I am far too familiar with Grayden’s cruelty.”

With nothing to add to that, we finish the meal in silence. The pounding in my head makes it difficult to hold a conversation even if I wished to say more.

In just a few hours Grayden will rage, finding his father, the crown, and Leon gone. I refuse to think about what he will do to me if he finds the crown on my head and Leon with me.

When we are done, Leon takes the plates to the sink, washes them, and places them gently on the windowsill rack.

“I could use your help,” I say. Having him here was something out of a dream, but with this crown on me, everything could soon turn into a nightmare.

He turns with unease written on his face. After drying his hands on a towel, he heads towards me. “Is everything all right?” He looks at my face and then up to the crown.

“Yes, I just need assistance packing up my things for the journey.”

Relief floods his face. “Of course. How can I help?” The frown he had worn turns upwards into genuine delight. It makes me feel worse for what I am about to do, but I force myself to mirror his expression.

Guilt turns my stomach to ice. “Will you pack up all the dried meat and any vegetables we have here? There are two travel bags in the pantry. Split the food between the bags for our journey. There should be room for your clothing. Hopefully everything is dry. We will leave as soon as you are done. ”

He gives me a determined nod and pulls the latch up, descending into the pantry.

Knowing I must say goodbye to him forever in a few short minutes sends a stabbing pain into my chest.

Maybe after this short time together, really getting to know each other, he will miss me in the same way I am to miss him for the next few centuries. The sensation of his arms around me when I awoke this morning, safe and warm, is burned into my being. I will never be able to fall asleep again without imagining he is there, holding me.

I may never fully recover from his brief existence in my life but I hope he has a long mortal life, filled with every possible happiness, even if I won’t be there to experience it with him.

How can I say goodbye when walking out of his life feels so wrong?