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

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

A t the heart of the Ellovian palace is a spacious courtyard garden. At the center, surrounded by its countless blooms, is a stone and crystal sanctuary. It was once a holy temple for the fae goddess Ellova but now holds the Realm Keeper’s throne room.

Guards with baldrics the color of plums greet us as they open the large doors. The long room has open crystal windows filled with the early-morning sunshine; the surrounding flowers peek in and the lively morning sounds of the palace float by. Vines wrap around the columns that hold up the ceiling and the soft purple material that drapes between each one.

Our steps echo throughout as we walk across the light green floor with dark green marbling towards the driftwood table just before the throne.

Nyvenah, Realm Keeper of Ellova and Nueena’s mother, sits upon the Ellovian throne, which is made of twisted trees and intricately entwined ivy. Above her head, gemstones in the color of each court are set in an arch. Her consort and Nueena’s father, Alachite, waits off to the side next to a floating tapestry of the fae and mortal realms. The elaborate tapestry map is sewn with delicate shimmering threads, the realm of Ellova on one side with the mortal kingdoms of Adreania, Kalvorn, and Versairen across the Divide. On Nyvenah’s right grows the navlue tree with its deep purple branches, its beautiful fruit dangling from it, ripening, a deeper shade than the one Grayden tried to feed me. The green rind darkens with every day that passes as Nueena’s power reaches its peak, its closed flower buds waiting to bloom.

My stomach twists with dread at the memory. Another situation I will need to tell them about.

Just beyond the Ellovian throne stands a grand gray statue of the goddess Ellova, ten feet tall, a flowing dress frozen behind her, with patches of moss clinging to the bottom in spirals. Her marble eyes are open, her expression kind. Long hair reaches her feet, curling at the edges. Atop her head is a floral crown with flowers enchanted to never die. Her beauty is carved into the stone, ethereal to all who see it.

Last to arrive is Lillian, who strides in and with a wave of her gloved hand sends all guards away, shutting the door behind them.

“Welcome home, Dewdrop,” Alachite says to me as I approach.

Alachite and Nyvenah smile warmly at us, but their concern is clear beneath it. Lillian must have told them something alarming has happened.

“Hello, my dewlings.” Nyvenah rises gracefully from her throne, stepping down to greet me.

We kiss each other on the cheek in greeting and her arm wraps around my shoulders as we walk to Nueena.

Nyvenah is still dressed in her regal red garb from her visit to the Court of Swords this morning. Her dark brown skin is a stark contrast to her moonlight hair. Her thick braids are pinned in a swirl around her head, with a large gold crown covered with emeralds and amethysts on top. She is hundreds of years old but could pass for a mortal of fifty or sixty years. Small wrinkles are permanently etched around her eyes, which are now focused solely on me.

“Welcome home. How was the Court of Swords?” I ask. “It’s always lovely this time of year.”

We all sit at the ornate table together. Nyvenah folds her hands atop it, facing me. “Fine, fine, more preparation for the coronation. Lillian said we might need to return sooner than we thought to bring Ellova’s armies here. I am somewhat nervous as to that cryptic message but she said you had something to share. Are you all right, Della?”

Saying yes feels like a lie, so I pull out the pins holding up my hair, one by one. All eyes are on me. Nyvenah’s and Alachite’s expressions grow increasingly worried with each one I drop on the worn wood, my hair falling to reveal the reason the Merawood Forest was enchanted with protection.

The golden crown that destroyed the lives and friendship of Nyvenah’s great-grandmother, Realm Keeper Zarella, and her closest friends, Inara and Alvina.

I can see my reflection in one of the wall mirrors.

I tell them everything that has happened since I found Jedrick defenseless in the forest: the attackers who abducted the king, Jedrick’s death, the crown about to burn down the entire forest, the pain of putting it on, Leon showing up, and Grayden’s guards attempting to take us. I take great care to explain that bringing Leon was a last resort and a matter of life or death.

Nyvenah and Alachite take it all in with stunned expressions, but it’s Alachite who speaks first.

“You did the right thing. It seems without a living conduit, the crown cannot handle the great magic trapped within it. Powerful objects are often unpredictable. Everything outside of the Venneem Mountains would have been destroyed, and that threatens our safety.”

“Yes, you did what you needed to do to protect Ellova,” Nyvenah agrees with her mate. “It’s vital that the protection of the Merawood Forest holds, especially if Adreania comes seeking what is no longer theirs.”

My eyesight blurs, grateful tears about to make their way down my face. Nyvenah stands and I follow. She opens her arms automatically, as she has done for a hundred years. Like most fae in Ellova, she is much taller than me, and she wraps me in a strong embrace filled with comfort from the only mother I have left. We stay like that for a long moment, her scent of jasmine and rosewater sweet in my nose until she pulls back and holds my face in both hands, looking into my eyes instead of at the crown.

“It will be all right.” Her expression is one of loving maternal concern, her white eyebrows twisted in sympathy. She holds me for a few moments longer before I step out of the familiar embrace and we take our seats once again.

Tavien reaches his hand across the table, squeezing mine when I take it. “Ellova went to war with Adreania to try to get that crown back, only to lose. It’s finally here; no matter what, that’s enough. It’s been returned where it needs to be.”

I squeeze his hand back before we let go and I face Nyvenah again. “But it can be removed, right?” My words are laced with both panic and hope as they spill out of me. It has to be able to; it just has to. But when Nyvenah and Alachite look at each other with matching expressions of concern, that hope burns away.

Alachite gives me a small but reassuring smile. “We know so little about the crown. It was stolen too long ago and its existence in Ellova was short. The most important thing is that it’s out of Adreania’s grasp.”

An endless stream of questions has ran through my head, but I settle on one: “It turned from black to gold as soon as I put it on, so that must be encouraging?”

Everyone nods slowly and Nyvenah looks thoughtful. “The change in its color may be one of two things. First, it may have recognized your heritage as part fae. Magic flows from mother to child, recognizing bloodlines, but the crown was not forged to be worn by just any fae.”

“It was created and crafted for Inara,” Tavien added, “keyed to her and her magic, but perhaps it has chosen you. Keyed items have a mind of their own at times.”

The pounding worsens when I shake my head. “So far it has brought nothing but pain. I need to find a way to relieve the pressure. The magic is heavy on me and feels like I am being suffocated by its power. The crown feels…wrong, so wrong.”

“Then it hasn’t chosen you,” Tavien says. “You would know peace wearing it. When I hold my family’s keyed sword made by Alvina, it has a sense of wholeness there. As if it were forged just for me.”

A pensive Nyvenah nods. “There is always a possibility that since you are a direct descendant of the Forger, it recognizes you as an heir of its maker. Metal-wielding of a jewelsmith is one of the rarest gifts and magic has a long memory. The top scholars at the Ink Court may have more answers, but we must limit who knows this. Nueena’s coronation is fast approaching.”

Nyvenah and Alachite glance at each other, worry passing between them. Nyvenah sits straighter in her chair. She looks at me, her tone more serious than she has ever spoken to me, the voice of a ruler. “The crown holds a vast amount of power. We may not know how much, but in the thousands of years it was siphoning magic, we can only guess that you may have in your possession magic far greater than Nueena’s.”

Confused, slightly taken back at her tone, I can only agree. “It’s certainly possible.”

“The throne chooses the Realm Keeper based on power. That is the way it has always chosen Ellova’s leader,” she says reluctantly, but her eyes are hopeful, understanding there. “We all want what is best for the fae realm. That is why its leader must have the most power, to protect and provide. Do you have any desire to test if that magic could crown you Realm Keeper in the upcoming days? It would be somewhat of a loophole to succession, but we would not stop you. The throne chooses”

My mouth falls open at the very suggestion I would attempt to take the throne for myself, and I jump to my feet. “Absolutely not, never. Never. Nueena is this realm’s future! Not me.” I’m horrified that she even had to say it. That I seize the throne from my closest friend is implausible, bordering on madness. “Nueena was born to rule; it’s in her blood. She is everything Ellova needs.”

Nueena gives me a soft, assured smile.

Nyvenah looks relieved. “That is what I assumed you would say. I am pleased to know I was right. I know this goes against your loyalty to the Gem Court, but I would ask that you keep this from them, at least for now. We are too close to the coronation for this kind of disruption. They may challenge for power if they know a member of their court is in possession of Inara’s crown. I have nothing but fondness for your court’s Guardian. Lazalai is wonderful, but if the other courts found out about this, it may interfere.”

Bile rises up at the idea of my court trying to claim something that isn’t theirs to demand. “Of course! I would never do anything to interfere with Nueena’s crowning or her place on the throne! I have no intention of telling anyone from the Gem Court. They get my craftsmanship, not my secrets. I just want it off my body to have it destroyed or in the hands of someone who can control it.”

“We will find a way to free you of it, Dewdrop. It may take a while, though,” Alachite says honestly. “Alvina was a great forger but she did not make many keyed objects. There may be limited information on it. The Ink Court takes care to document the vast majority of our history, but many keyed items may have been lost throughout the centuries and only been recorded in personal libraries. Those with keyed items often kept them hidden.”

I try to keep the disappointment from my face.

“Our sword is in my family’s trove. I will bring it. Perhaps it will shine some light on the situation at hand,” Tavien reassures me.

High pillars of marble with gold accents hold up the ceiling, and between each one are enormous potted plants, their vines spilling over. In one corner sits a small bar with a variety of liquids and fruit purée with golden goblets. I walk directly to it, grabbing a cold goblet and stirring in strawberry wine with muddled basil.

It smells like Leon. Tastes like what I imagine kissing him under the stars would be like, wrapped safely in the promises he’s made to me. I turn away from the cart, still drinking deeply, hating my next words.

“Another issue is that I can’t use my metal-wielding.” It’s the most painful part of this mess. Losing the ability to use my own power leaves me hollow, as if I’m missing a vital part of myself. I hover my hands around my gold belt, close my eyes, and will with everything in me for it to melt so I can change its shape, but nothing happens. It stays solid and cold beneath my pleading touch, but I can feel magic trying to get out like something is leaving me slowly, clogged and thick but flowing, so why won’t the gold obey my touch?

Nueena clears her throat. “Um, Del?”

I open my eyes to find everyone staring at the plants that surround the room, which all have grown a few feet, with flowers blooming on branches and new vines twisting. A smaller pot cracks in half, its tangled root system splitting it open onto the floor.

Fuck.

The edges of my eyesight have gone dark and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to sink to the floor and sleep. Tavien is closest; he reaches me just in time to hold me up.

“Thank you,” I whisper as he directs me to a mossy green couch and helps me get seated.

“The crown’s magic has overshadowed yours,” Nyvenah explains. “It’s much stronger and you are only half fae. The crown has been pulling magic for thousands of years.” She makes her way to her throne, and the moment she sits, she grimaces before her features smooth out.

“Mother?” Nueena’s eyes widen with concern as she moves closer to Nyvenah. “Are you all right?” As Nueena approaches, the gemstones embedded in the throne flare to life, growing bright. “I wish we could move up my coronation.” When she is within arm’s reach of her mother, small white flowers bloom from the tangled ivy, releasing an enticing floral perfume.

Nyvenah shakes her head. “Sunflower, I can handle it for a few more weeks. I must wait for the full rejection of the throne before you can ascend. I know it’s difficult to watch. I hated seeing my mother’s slow rejection, and she hated seeing her mother go through it, and her mother hated to see the throne reject Zarella, but this is the way it’s done. We must wait for the navlue flowers to fully bloom before we can start the coronation.” She shifts uncomfortably again before returning her attention to me.

I glance at the navlue tree, dreading telling them about Grayden and the fruit he had. The navlue fruit is ripening but the pale purple flower buds are still tightly closed.

“I do have a question, Della. How did you know what King Jedrick looked like and who Leon was?” Nyvenah tries to appear indifferent, but the question is laced with suspicion, her eyes narrowing at Nueena and me.

I keep my expression blank, and Nueena moves to stand behind me. We’ve talked before about how they would react if they ever found out. She straightens her back, ready to face their reaction with me.

“Well,” I say, leaving Nueena out of it, “I have been sneaking into Adreania with a stockpile of provisions for a place called Beggars’ Row.”

Alachite and Nyvenah are tense as they listen to my confession. Nyvenah’s face is frozen in fear.

“My only living mortal relative, my cousin Cyanna, ran an orphanage there with twenty-two children. They were desperately in need of help. The children she’s raising were starving and sick, so I’ve done what I could. I have gone once a month for a while. For the first few years I stayed at the orphanage, but while the food was helpful, what they truly needed were coins. I didn’t have their currency so at first I just sold my jewelry to the noble houses out of an old family shop. Once I made a name for myself, I got an invitation to the monthly royal bazaar, where I had been selling my pieces. At the end of the night, I distributed the coins to the families there. I know there were risks but they were suffering so much.”

“Oh, Della…I cannot begin to explain how dangerous that was! How foolish ! The arrogance inside you to believe you would be safe in that monster’s kingdom!” Fear no longer graces Nyvenah’s beautiful face; only rage.

“I took every precaution. But even before I was forced to put on the crown, I was never going to risk returning after my last night there.”

Nueena is ready to defend me and my choices. “We have so much here, and those who live in Adreania have nothing. She couldn’t just turn her back when she found out children in her family’s care were dying there!”

“Why?” Alachite says, ignoring Nueena, fury simmering in his eyes. I look between them. Alachite so rarely gets angry; this might not end well.

“Because I do not possess the ability to ignore my family’s suffering.”

“No.” His tone is ice.“Why aren’t you going anymore after that last night? You said you were not going to risk returning. Besides the crown. What. Happened.”

I may be over a hundred years old and proud of what I have accomplished in the past ten years, of the lives I have saved and the children I have kept fed, but I exchange a guilty look with Nueena like we are dewlings again, caught stealing treats from the kitchens.

“Because Jedrick looked like he was on his last breath and Grayden was about to take over as king.”

Alachite crosses his arms, waiting.

“Jedrick was a lazy and apathetic king, only wanting to give in to drink and bleed the coffers dry, ignoring the pleas of its people, but Grayden…He seemed to believe the cure to the sickness that spreads in Adreania could be found in Kalvorn. He plans to lead both Adreania and Versairen to war against Kalvorn.”

Alachite sees right through me, one eyebrow arched, unconvinced that was the reason we left. “So because he was planning a war that would not affect you, you decided your safety suddenly mattered? Our spies keep an eye on the activities of our enemies. He has little weapons, starving cities, and a malnourished army. Not much of a threat to anyone.”

“Leon was concerned for my safety. He had a plan in place to get me out of Adreania when he thought I was a mortal woman with children. He had hired a ship captain to bring me to his childhood home. I sent Cyanna and her children in my place. With Cyanna safe, my work there was done, and I could not risk seeing Grayden again.”

Nueena continues for me, “Jedrick wasn’t going to last the month, and Grayden is insidious. An heir to make King Drystan proud. Cruel, merciless. Whatever he is planning, he deserves to die. He also showed far too much interest in Della.”

Nyvenah’s blue eyes are glassy and Alachite looks even more enraged. I shrink even more under their gaze, hating that I will need to tell them exactly what Grayden’s plan were for me.

Ellova’s grave, I just want to crawl back into my warm bed and sleep ’til Nueena’s coronation. See if Leon will hold me like he did last night, hold me so tightly and tenderly this will all fade away. I look up at the mural painted above us to avoid the eyes of anyone around me.

I’m so tired.

Alachite opens his mouth to speak, but Nyvenah claims the next words.

“I know that this came from a good place.” Nyvenah closes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath to calm herself before speaking to us again. “Della, it was a precious gift to help raise you. I love your heart, that you care so much for those poor mortals. The Forger and your mother would be immensely proud of the woman you have become.” She speaks through gritted teeth now. “But you have been reckless with your life to go into the forest alone and cross the realms.”

Alachite slides his eyes suspiciously to his daughter. “Why do I just know you went with her?”

Nyvenah lets out a little gasp when Nueena does not deny it. The room shakes with it, the evidence clear on the windows, which all have jagged cracks running down them, threatening to shatter. Above Nyvenah, the crystal lights shudder, burning so brightly they nearly explode.

Nueena quickly confesses her part in all of this. “I never went to Adreania, never once crossed the Divide, but yes, I did travel with her there to ensure she returned. She begged me not to. It was my choice to accompany her through the forest. Nothing ever happened. It’s as empty as it has always been since the war ended. I also provided all the food she brought to Cyanna from our kitchens.”

Nyvenah takes another deep breath. “My dewlings, who apparently place so little value on your own lives.” Her eyes widen and she whirls around on Tavien, who is leaning back in a chair, balancing on two back legs, and twirling his dagger. He appears unfazed by this whole conversation.

“You knew about this? Soulbonded mates are meant to protect their Zemras!” She glares at him, demanding an answer.

He only shrugs. “You know as well as I do that Nueena is not one to be controlled. She does what she wants, what she feels is best. I trusted her to keep herself safe; she would not jeopardize her place as heir. Nueena will make an exquisite Realm Keeper because she has a heart for justice and kindness, unable to turn away from suffering, something most of the mortals have been experiencing daily for years. Nueena understood why Del would return month after month. Nu would have done the same for any of your family. If it were her sisters on the other side, if Vaylin and Kaylena were mortal and starving. I would never stand in her way; I would advise you not to either.”

Nueena and Tavien stare at each other, smiling with twin adoring expressions. He has a proud gleam in his eyes when he gazes at her and she sends the look right back. They share a quiet moment even with all of us around, connected on a deeper level, the way only Zemras can be.

Nyvenah stares at Tavien in surprise.

“Besides,” Nueena argues, “if I did not accompany Del, I would have never seen the darkness spreading into Merawood Forest with my own eyes. The protections around the Divide were failing, the crown siphoning the magic there again, but now that we have it back, we can work on restoring the protection enchantments.”

Alachite comes behind Nyvenah, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kisses her exposed neck and she leans back into him, shoulders relaxing. She sighs deeply while rubbing her eyes before she steps out of his embrace and stands in front of us. “If you both were still dewlings, there would have been strict punishments for this, but as you are both fully grown, all I can do is express my deepest disappointment for your carelessness and disregard for your own safety. I hope neither of you do anything like this in the future without speaking to me first, but I do understand your reasoning. ”

Nueena and I nod. It would be best if we move on from my journeys into Adreania and I address the room.

“Someone else is after the crown, and while it’s safe here, we need to know who kidnapped Jedrick and how they planned to use it. Kalvorn is going to go to war with Adreania to try to take it. It’s possible Kalvorn has also discovered a way to release its power. It could explain why they suddenly are willing to start a war for a crown that has been powerless for thousands of years. Maybe they know what Grayden does, a way to unlock it.”

Nueena turns to her parents. “It must be King Zilias then. This was a power play. Del said that Grayden met with him shortly before and Kalvorn demanded the crown in exchange for aid. They met on the Elbasan Sea this week; Grayden refused and plans retribution.”

What if Kalvornian guards come searching for me now that I have what they were willing to go to war for?

I open my mouth to speak but close it, not knowing how to phrase what I need to tell them. Then I try again. “There’s one more thing you need to know. When I last saw Grayden, he offered me fruit. Fruit I believe—no, I know—was from the navlue tree. It looked just like the same fruit in every coronation painting.”

Nueena’s parents stare at me.

“Della, that’s not possible,” Alachite says.

“He said it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.” I wet my lips, trying to rid myself of my dry mouth at my own words. “Right before he shoved it in my mouth. He wasn’t lying. I know what it was. Grayden claimed he found a way to use the crown, to bring back its magic once he is king. I didn’t believe him, but he had the fruit. They are connected; I just know it. Whoever broke into the throne room and gave Grayden that fruit is working with him.”

“We have been betrayed,” Nyvenah finishes for me. Her words are icy, anger burning in her eyes.

“I believe so.” I hate to be the one to tell her this.

“We will add extra guards to the throne room,” Alachite says, watching his mate carefully. “When all the court Guardians are here, we will decide what action to take once the one who seeks to share our magic with that murderous prince has been caught.” Turning to Lillian, he adds, “Please bring the mortal man here. I think it’s time we meet him.”

She nods once, but her expression clearly indicates she thinks this is a bad idea.

Leon is going to meet those who raised me. He is still a stranger to me in many ways, but I can’t stop the hope that rises in me that they like him as much as I do.

Nyvenah looks at me, her expression thoughtful. “Alvina forged the crown that was stolen and it brought on ruination, but you brought it back to us, my sweet dewling. How proud she would be.”

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“May I touch it?” Nyvenah asks suddenly. When I agree, she raises her hand to it. Like with Leon, it vibrates angrily at her incoming touch. “It’s burning hot. Can you not feel that, or is it part of the pain you spoke of earlier?”

I reach up and run my fingers over it. “It feels warm, but mostly it gives me a terrible headache. Like all the magic is trapped in my body and it is trying to tear itself out of me.”

Alachite is next to learn of the crown’s molten rage at being touched.

Everyone in the room watches Nueena’s approach, her gown flowing behind her like water. My stomach tightens with anticipation.

“At least the crown is no longer draining the magic around it. I feel nothing being siphoned by the crown. Having the crown on your head seems to have solved the issue of it stealing magic.” She stands before me with her hand slowly rising. I wait for the vibrating to start, but it’s not the angry quivering as it reacted with Nyvenah, Alachite, and Leon.

I’m surprised when she ignores the crown. Instead of reaching for it, she takes my hand in hers, our fingers intertwined. She closes her eyes and a jolt ricochets throughout my body, followed by a violent pulling sensation deep within me. We gasp at the same time. The magic flows into her, slowly at first, then rushing to get out of me. She tightens her grip. The pressure that had been building, pushing against my skull to a painful point, leaves my body until I finally relax with welcomed relief.

Her lashes flutter open and my heart stops. No longer golden-brown, the eyes that stare back at me are glowing gold as she absorbs the magic that has been suffocating me.

Everyone in the room is quiet as they watch the exchange of magic between us. The stream of magic slows within me, sputtering to a stop. Her long lashes flutter again and her eyes slowly fade back to the color they have always been. That same golden-brown I woke up to one hundred twenty years ago on the day we met.

“Are you all right?” I ask. “How do you feel?” It comes out as a whisper.

“Energized, full, unlike anything I’ve felt before.” She speaks as if she is in a daze before panic dawns on her face. “We must find a way to release it. Your mortal body will be destroyed with that much magic. I was only able to absorb a fraction of it. You won’t be able to survive this, Del. It’s going to kill you.”