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

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

J ust before dawn, still wrapped in sleep, I hear movement in my room. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, move past the foot of my bed. With the wards securely in place, it can only be one of the few who can enter freely no matter the unreasonable hour.

Nueena bends down with a finger over her excited grin and motions for me to dress. As she does most mornings, she goes through all of my jewelry stores to select her jewels for the day. Today she’s chosen a moonstone ring and a matching necklace that complement her pale lavender gown and look beautiful with her dark brown skin.

I sit up carefully now that I know the magic will rush back once I do. My head spins briefly, the crushing weight sitting on me again. My body is sluggish but I get up and dress in a pale yellow skirt and black corset with yellow stitching and ruffles over my shoulders.

I quickly write Leon a note not to worry, and together we tiptoe through the small library, past his sleeping form.

We stay quiet until we reach the outside hallway, where Tavien is waiting and holding two large teacups of morning-dew tea for us .

Nueena takes her teacup from Tavien with a kiss on his cheek. He yawns and heads downstairs. “I translated the parts of the journal we believe have information about the elixir. It will take time to translate the rest, but as time is not our ally in this, creating the elixir will be my priority.”

Nueena pats the satchel at her hip. “I have a copy of the sections we need.”

The tea is a vibrant burst of flavor. It’s sweetened with sugar cubes and slowly awakens me as we walk through the dimly lit palace. The water the tea is brewed with is from the Airvell River, filled with magic and healing properties. I feel a little better with each sip. A few stars still linger through darkened windows. Many of the palace hallways we travel through are quiet and calm in the early hours, with only a few attendants who finish up midnight tasks or prepare for those who will rise soon.

“How are you feeling, after yesterday’s conversation before Leon arrived?” Nueena’s tone is soft.

I straighten my shoulders. “We will find a way to get the crown off me. Alvina’s blood runs in me; we will figure out the way to unlock it. We also have every possible scroll available to us, and the forge it was made in. We are just missing something.”

She is quick to agree. “We will!”

I link arms with her and she pulls me close. “Are we going to the Royal Garden?”

Nueena is practically vibrating with excitement when she nods, braids bouncing. “Tavien found that the elixir needs many different types of herbs and flora. I have already contacted the head botanist at the Court of Green to assist in the search, but a few of the plants are rare and have not been seen in centuries. Possibly even some only Ellova herself grew. We need the anafaea flower, leaves from the salvidah plant, and blutells from the Airvell River.”

We take one of the passages heading down to the ground floor, and two attendants stroll by us with platers of jam-filled pastries for the morning meal. We grab a few on our way to the bottom of the west tower. Outside the palace is a hidden garden, tucked away amongst trees and flowers, their petals closed ’til morning .

According to myth, the Royal Garden was where the goddess Ellova created the first faeries out of her blood and bones, soil and sand.

Considered sacred, it is only open to a few and is one of Nueena’s favorite places. This holds the memory of where she and Tavien shared their first kiss. It is used to grow rare plants if needed for ceremonial or medicinal purposes. We stand before a stone archway marking the entrance; the door is made entirely of entwined ivy and thorns. The enchantments that guard this place recognize us as those who are welcome within its walls, and the thorns slowly twist away from each other, revealing the lush garden, the vines spiraling up the archway and around the towering stone walls that circle this divine sanctuary.

Over by the garden’s stone statues, plants and flowers of every color grow below a mosaic table and chairs where we occasionally have tea in the last afternoons near a set of swinging seats that hang from the branches of a thick tree.

One part of the garden has been cleared, now filled with fresh dirt ready for new planting. “I have a theory and it might not work, but I want to try.” Nueena’s golden-brown eyes hold an extraordinary amount of hope in them.

Tavien holds the diary open to a faded page, a sketch of a small plant with deep violet buds. “There are four key ingredients I need, but as of now, we have no way to produce two of them. The main problem is the anafaea flower, but we also need the leaves of the missing salvidah herb. The blutells will be no trouble to find, and the base ingredient is the healing waters of the Airvell River.”

Nueena explains the rest, speaking quickly. “But I want to see if I can grow the flower. Since we had no idea what the anafaea and salvidah looked like, I had no way of imagining it, but since Inara’s diary had drawings and other details for the other ingredients, there may be hope, but it must be grown here.”

We slip off our shoes and walk to the center, kneeling on the cleared soil. Tavien holds the book for her to memorize the flower. She digs her hands in the packed earth and they start to glow, the light shining out through the gaps in the soil. Her eyes are closed, mouth mumbling what sounds like a prayer or plea to the goddess Ellova herself. I watch as the large empty planter sparkles with tiny dots that shine brighter and slowly reach upward. Small green leaves extend outward, transitioning through three different stages of growth in a matter of minutes, which should have taken weeks or even months.

“Nu! You did it,” I whisper as the seedlings expand, growing a dark green stalk topped with white buds.

She opens her eyes, and her smile takes over her face at the swirls of white flowers that surround us, a faint glow to their petals. The anafaea flowers that lie before her are beautiful, and she runs one finger over the nearest one’s leaves.

“How is this possible?” I ask, awestruck.

A plant that can cure most anything.

A plant that will save so many lives.

Nueena’s back straightens with pride. “I can grow anything as long as I can see it in my mind, but without knowing what it looked like, there was no hope of growing it again. Magic always seeks an outlet, eager to grow and create. I just needed to direct my magic into the soil, mold it, imagine the seeds in my hand growing, blooming. I could feel my magic mixing with the magic of the garden. Whatever magic is left from Zarella in the roots and soil.”

I nod. “Sounds like how my metal-wielding works. When can we harvest it?”

“It needs to fully mature for seven nights under the moon,” Tavien says, beaming as he surveys the new floral life his Zemra created. “Then the real work begins. The elixir will not be easy to make. I’m still collecting texts to bring some clarity on what is needed. We need to wait ’til the bud turns dark blue and fully blooms. In the meantime, we can start to collect or research the other ingredients, like the salvidah plant.”

“Are we not a little too old to be playing in the garden?” At once, we all turn to Lillian, who wears an amused half smile at us kneeling in the dirt.

“Never too old for gardening,” Nueena says as I stand and hold out two hands, pulling her up. She walks through her new blooms, careful of each delicate one. When we step onto the winding stone pathway, she flicks her wrist at the bottoms of our dresses. The dirt falls to the ground, leaving perfectly clean fabric and skin. “And to what do we owe this early-morning visit, Lils?”

“You are all requested in the command room if you are done here.” Lillian turns around, sword swaying at her hip.

T he ray of sunshine that is Viella greets us with a perky “Good morning.” As she opens the command room doors for us, her eyes linger on Lillian. “Hello again.” Viella winks at her.

Lillian’s cheeks turn slightly pink at that.

Nyvenah and Alachite are sitting at the table, eating their morning meal. Nueena places a kiss on her father’s cheek and then her mother’s moonlight hair before sitting down next to her. The command room overlooks Ellova in every direction. The circular space is lined with tall arched windows in a crystal dome tower with natural light pouring in from the early-morning sky, tinting the room in shades of pale blue and purple.

With a wave of Nyvenah’s hand, breakfast appears on the plates laid out on the table. Roasted rosemary potatoes, round lamb sausage, fruit, and sweet pumpkin pastries.

The four of us who just arrived begin to eat as Viella, Spy Guardian for Ellova, says, “My spies from Adreania have returned. Grayden has been crowned king. He is making few outside appearances, and when he does, it is with a poorly made imitation of the crown. He has been speaking to large groups from one of the balconies, telling them that the cure to the sickness is in Kalvorn and they must be ready for war.”

“You may need to intervene,” Alachite says to me.

The fork I was using crashes into my ceramic plate. “Me? How?” My body curls in on itself, dread pulling my limbs inward.

“Well, we had a spy bring back a copy of their laws.” Viella holds up a faded scroll. “It clearly states, ‘Loyal to whoever wears the crown.’ It appears the treaty, the laws made when Inara and Drystan married, never changed.” Viella says, her bright smile gone. “It is also all over their currency, flags, banners, really everywhere,”

I try to think back to any time I had seen the law, but it was always dark when I went and I paid little attention to the decor of a castle I hated to be in.

Nyvenah sips her tea. “Revealing yourself to be queen may be enough to stop whatever plan he has until we can make contact with Kalvorn.”

But what if it’s not? What if I make myself known and the kingdom chooses Grayden?

“My spies also reported that Grayden did meet with the king and queen of Kalvorn again and it did not go well,” Viella adds. “We need to gather more information on Versairen and see if they truly will aid Grayden in a war against Kalvorn per the treaty of their princess who is married to him.”

I push the plate away, too nauseated to eat anymore. “You have someone from Versairen here—Leon. He had plans to send me there because…” Nyvenah and Alachite raised me, loved me as their own. This will not go over well. “The last night I was in Adreania, Grayden threatened me?—”

“Threatened you how?” Alachite’s voice is low, his eyes narrowing. It makes me want to sink into my chair like a dewling.

I take a deep breath, pushing away the feeling of Grayden’s hands on me. “Grayden had shown interest in me for a while. He made some threats of what was to come. When he became king, I was to return to the castle immediately or my children would be killed.”

“Children?” Nyvenah looks confused between Nueena and me.

My stomach twists painfully again. “A few years ago he took an interest in me. The night we met, he requested that I stay after the bazaar and join him in his chambers, but I lied and said I was married with children. I don’t think he was used to the rejection. He implied that my…um…choice in the matter would end when he became king. ”

Nyvenah places her hands over her mouth, horrified, and Alachite is so angry on my behalf it radiates off his body.

Best to change the subject and continue my point to all of this.

I hastily add, “After Grayden threatened me, I ran out and Leon followed me. He had made a plan for me to escape. He told me to take my imaginary family to Fisherman’s Cove, where I would find transportation to Versairen. He had a new life planned for me there. He knew Grayden would destroy everything when he inherited the throne in a quest for more power, and Leon wanted me to be somewhere safe. He told me a small plot of land would be waiting. I could have lived in his childhood home and he said some of the local jewelsmiths could help me start over.” My head falls. “He promised I would be safe and taken care of; even my imaginary husband would be given work and the children educated in Versairen. I sent my cousin there instead.” I don’t realize a tear has slipped out until the teardrop strikes the table with a splash.

“Hey,” Tavien says softly, “imagine Grayden’s face when he finds out the crown is on his jewelry maker’s head.” That brings a wobbly smile to my lips, and some of the weight I’ve been carrying within me washes away.

Alachite puts a hand over mine and gives it a gentle pat, the anger receding. “You were right to bring Leon here, Dewdrop. He clearly cares deeply for you.”

I can only nod at that. “You should speak with him. He knows so much about Adreania and grew up in Versairen. He will be a wealth of knowledge on both kingdoms.”

Nyvenah looks at her commander. “Lillian, please go get him.”

Viella watches Lillian with a fond smile as she leaves the Command Room, the large doors closing behind her.

“You care deeply for him too,” Nyvenah adds softly. “We all see it. I do not wish to see you hurt. Your mother?—”

I can’t let her finish that sentence. “I know.”

My mother loved my father to the point of death and that is something I cannot forget, cannot repeat.

“If it is going to be an issue that he’s so near, he can have new rooms outside of your wing. Perhaps some distance will help while he’s here,” Nyvenah offers, maternal worry in every word.

“Thank you, but that is probably not necessary. Since we don’t know how long mortals can even stay here, I need to keep an eye on him.” I don’t say that the thought of him moving rooms, sleeping far from me, sends a bolt of dread through me. He needs to be near me while he’s here. This might be all the time we have in the world.

Nueena and Nyvenah look at each other, but Nyvenah speaks first. “You know more than anyone that a broken heart will kill a fae. Just because we have a luxuriantly long lifespan, it does not mean we are guaranteed it. My friend was only four years past her Zemra ceremony before her soulbond mate drowned in the Elbasan Sea. She expected at least eight hundred years and died two months later.” Nyvenah’s eyes are filled with tears. “I cannot see you die of a broken heart like she did. There are many reasons mortals are forbidden here.”

Nueena and I were just dewlings when it happened, and I desperately attempt to block out the memory of her close friend’s vacant eyes at dinners, the glowing veins like lightning strikes marking her skin, the outward sign her broken heart had fractured her magic, days before they’d found her dead, curled up on the rounded soil of her Zemra’s grave.

“Are you sharing shades for the ball?” Nyvenah asks quietly.

I shake my head, looking down at my lap. “We’re not courting, and I’m not in love with him, Nyvenah. It’s just a little crush on a kindhearted man.” What I speak is the truth, but guilt floods me as if it were not.

The press of Nyvenah’s lips displays that she remains unconvinced. “Della, have fun with your little mortal if you wish. Just be safe.”

I know she says all of this out of concern for me. I’m concerned for myself. I nod. The door opens and Leon appears with Lillian, who appears less than thrilled.

His clothing had been delivered. The leather of his riding boots shines; his breeches and white tunic are perfectly cut to his form.

He looks directly at me as his greeting smile turns to dismay at yet again finding me upset. I shake my head but his frown only deepens.

“Leon, please have a seat. We have some questions.” Nyvenah waves her hand for him to sit in the empty seat next to Tavien and not mine. Leon glances at Lillian, who pointedly sits in the chair to my right, Nyvenah’s meaning not going unnoticed.

“How can I be of service?”

“We need to know more about Adreania and Versairen. Specifically, if you believe they will join forces and attack Kalvorn?”

“I do. Grayden is adamant in his belief that Kalvorn holds the key to their survival. Food is about to run out and sickness claims most of the kingdom. His vast inner court is protected for now, but soon they will feel the pain the rest of the kingdom has felt for decades. While he has a kingdom on the brink of ruin, Kalvorn is thriving. He wants what he is not willing to care for. If nothing changes, Grayden will rule over nothing but a kingdom of ash and bones.”

“Will those who call Adreania home truly go to war at Grayden’s word?” Nueena asks.

Leon’s heartbroken expression pains me in ways I can’t explain. “They will. They would have no choice. Refusing would mean imprisonment or death, and they would likely have a better chance of surviving the war than Grayden’s fury, but the casualties would be great in either case. What little food is grown in Adreania is wilted and bitter even at the peak of harvest, which is why so much is imported from Versairen. Something is corrupt with the land, a certain wrongness one feels when in the Iron Castle. Despair is all around; it seeps into their souls. I have a theory that the sickness that continues to spread is related. If Grayden says all their troubles will be alleviated with a war, they will have no choice, but believe me, they hate Grayden. If provided with any alternative to him, they will take it. Their children are starving.”

Leon pauses. His hands on the table curl into fists. He stares out the large windows in the direction of Kalvorn. “When Grayden left for two weeks to speak with the king and queen of Kalvorn, the castle was an entirely different place.” His eyes soften. “Princess Lyrora ensured the staff got days off, we celebrated, and servants’ weddings were finally held. We got a taste of what it would be like without him, to work in the castle without fear. Those who live outside the castle only know the pain and struggle of living under Jedrick’s rule. All who live inside it know it’s going to be devastating under Grayden.”

Tavien follows Leon’s gaze over the forest. “Will Versairen agree to war with Kalvorn?”

“Grayden’s wife, Princess Erenia—well, I suppose she is queen now—is the eldest daughter of the king of Versairen. Part of the marriage agreement is if one goes to war, the other will aid. I cannot speak if the king of Versairen actually desires war. Erenia certainly does not.”

“How do you know that?” Nueena asks.

Leon faces her. “Both princesses in the Iron Castle are my friends and close confidantes. Erenia would never wish harm to come to the innocents of Adreania or the soldiers from her motherland. She and Lyrora are the best parts of Adreania.”

An ugly twist of jealousy darkens my face. Only Tavien notices and pats my leg in reassurance.

I have no right, but a bitterness blooms within me and it claws at my chest. Leon and I only spoke once a month. Life in that palace was miserable. Leon and the princesses deserved to find any light in the darkness, to find comfort in friendship. I have no right to be jealous.

But I am.

A palace attendant comes in and leans to speak into Nyvenah’s ear. She nods at the attendant’s words. “We will have to complete this conversation at a later time.”

Lillian opens the door to Everett’s mother, Camarra, the Seed Keeper and Guardian of the Court of Green. She is barefoot and wears a long, flowing sage dress with a golden belt. Small pouches hang from it with wildflower seeds and loose tea leaves. Camarra’s dark blonde waves are pulled up into a bird’s nest on her head and are home to a yellow canary that sits on her shoulder, chirping every so often .

“Hello, my Keeper and her kin.” Camarra’s voice is light and airy, unhurried.

“Camarra, welcome. Please join me for breakfast,” Nyvenah says.

They kiss each other on the cheek.

“Della, Everett was telling me he was with you yesterday. How delightful that he is back for a while. You two have much to catch up on.” Camarra beams at me.

“I hope to see him later this week,” I say, noting that Leon sits up straighter at my words.

Nyvenah turns her back to the Seed Keeper, her eyes widening with meaning to me.

Time to leave.

Even though the crown is hidden under my braids, I need to avoid any court Guardians, who are more sensitive to powerful magic as they hold it themselves. I rise and look at Leon, tilting my head towards the door. Leon immediately rises as well, following me out while Camarra is distracted by Nyvenah.

Leon turns to me in the hall when the door has shut behind me, a wide grin on his face. “Good morning, Izadella.”