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

Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

A n empty room has been transformed into a fully stocked apothecary. The wide-open windows face north, the mountains the only view and the scent of wildflowers drifting in. Three large tables hold hundreds of glass vials. The other ingredients needed are spread out on the workstation in large containers and long jars. Measuring cups and spoons of all different sizes join the organized chaos of the room.

Leon and Tavien go over Tavien’s extensive notes for every part of the elixir, including what he thought the measurements might be, but some experimenting would be required.

“I’m still waiting for a few more books from the Ink Court, but we have enough to get started,” Tavien says, looking pleased. “Everything else we may need is here in this room or can be bartered at the market.”

I sit on one of the stools, mixing some ingredients under Tavien’s careful instructions, and watch them work. Nueena has left for the day. She invited me to go with her but I’m eager to stay at Leon’s side, no matter how lovely the coast is with its crystal cobalt waters and crisp salty air.

The royal family has a lovely sandstone palace in the Court of Shells. Nueena’s family and I used to spend a few weeks together there every summer. Maybe when the elixir is complete, I can take Leon there for a few days. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but after the dreary life he led in Adreania for so long, he deserves some time lounging on sandy beaches with fruit wine chilled in ice crushed from the snow-capped mountains in the far east.

Tavien and Leon work in a synchronized flow, Tavien with his wealth of knowledge and Leon with his mastery of medicine. Breaking only when the midday sun reminds us to eat, they create with unrelenting focus.

A large pot sits over the fire, boiling the sweet water from the Airvell River. Leon slowly adds in ingredients and I’m entranced with how swiftly and precisely he works, grinding down dried leaves and pouring in different healing tonics to the base of the elixir. Leon narrates everything he does for me, why certain ingredients need to go in first when creating a medicine such as this, why some of the ingredients are needed at all. He’s never worked with a few of the fae plants before but only needs a quick explanation from Tavien to understand their purpose and how to extract what is needed.

Leon tells me and Tavien of his time as a healer for the mortals, his own recipes for medical miracles. He is especially proud of a tonic he created to help mortal women stop bleeding after birth.

Tavien shares about growing up in the Ink Court surrounded by books with his historian parents. His thirst for knowledge as a dewling was fueled by the libraries surrounding him, and he started school a few years earlier than his peers.

“Then I met Nueena in that forest and I only ever wanted two things: to know everything there was to know, and to be near her. I demanded to attend the palace school. Thankfully my parents and the royal family agreed. We have been inseparable ever since.”

Leon looks up from the large paste he is making. “How long have you been Zemras?”

Tavien laughs. “Much longer than we should be. Technically we broke into the temple. Our parents were furious when we came back soulbonded. The laws surrounding Zemras decree one must be at least seventy to even be seen by your court’s Guardians and the temple guides. Nueena was forty-four and I was forty-seven.”

“Fae are considered dewlings until they’re fifty,” I add to Tavien’s story, “so it is incredibly young by the standards of our society. Similar to mortals twenty-four and twenty-seven.”

Leon looks thoughtful. “Why were your parents so upset if they supported your relationship so early on?”

“Because we broke a sacred law and even the Realm Keeper’s child must be punished.”

Leon’s eyes widen at that and he opens his mouth to speak, but the door opens and Nueena leans against the doorframe. She wears the massive crown that the Court of Shells gave her last month at their crowning ceremony. It’s made entirely of creamy white pearls, delicate light green gems, and pale purple sea glass of all sizes. She embraces Tavien and they share a long kiss before she heads towards me. I stand, giving her my seat. Tavien follows her and pulls out the pins that hold up the delicate crown. It's beautiful work; their crown maker did a fine job reflecting their court on the headpiece. But I’m confident Nueena will favor my court’s crown above all the others.

“What did I interrupt?” Nueena asks, her shoulders relaxing as he pulls off the crown. Her braids are gone and her hair is in long tight curls down her back.

Tavien remarks, “Ellova’s grave! That’s heavy for a crown!”

She rolls her neck to relieve the pressure. “They don’t call it the Crown of a Thousand Pearls for nothing.”

Tavien rubs her shoulders and she leans back into him, eyes closing, releasing a long breath as he works on the knots in her neck from wearing the crown all day. “We were just telling Leon about our unsanctioned visit to the Zemra temple and the repercussions.”

Just as Tavien did, she laughs at the memory of young love. “Oh, yes, that.”

“What was the punishment for breaking the Zemras law?” Leon asks her with a concerned frown.

“Complete separation for one month. Which doesn’t sound so dramatic, but soulbonded mates need each other like air in the early days, and being apart is agony . Like your heart is being ripped from you. My mother had to stay at the seaside palace; she couldn’t bear my anguish. Said she could hear me no matter how far away I seemed to be. The only reprieve was the letters we wrote to each other that Del snuck us.”

“I will always need you like air,” Tavien says, pulling out her last hairpin and massaging her scalp.

She gazes up at him with adoring golden-brown eyes and blows him a kiss before facing Leon again.

“Why such a harsh punishment? You were in love.” Leon looks between the two of them, but I don’t miss the way his eyes flash to me for the briefest moment at the end.

“It’s meant to be a warning for any other fae who might want to follow in our footsteps. Praise Ellova, we were correct; we were Zemras. But not everyone who enters that temple is as blessed. Guessing wrong has a lifetime of consequences. But that is a story for another time. Dinner is ready.” She takes Tavien’s hand and pulls him out of the room. Leon holds the door for me, and when the door shuts, Tavien sends white flames that glide up the wood frame with a guarding spell before fizzling out.

Dinner is waiting for us in the west wing. Tavien and Nueena sit close as we share with her our day and she describes the beautiful ship with her name carved in the seafaring wood.

She brought home fresh fish that the palace chefs cooked with caramelized onions and red peppers alongside a thick fish stew. We dine on bread baked with corn, crumbled white cheese, and leeks, our plates full of crunchy green beans and a mound of yellow rice. At the end of the meal, I reach for the shortbread cookies to smother in jam, but Tavien and Nueena look at each other with mischievous smiles.

“Actually,” Nueena says, “we have a special dessert.” A silver tray appears and she dramatically removes the lid, revealing four small strawberry tarts. A buttery, flaky pie crust at the bottom, with juicy strawberries lying in a bed of thick cream piped in a swirl. A small decorative leaf sits delicately on top of the sweet dessert .

Oh, please don’t be made from what I think you are.

“We call it Della’s tart. We didn’t want all those strawberries from the garden to go to waste.” Tavien presses his lips together to stop from laughing at his own joke.

Leon and I lock eyes as he tries to hide his own smile. “It does look delicious.”

His intense focus on me sends heat rising to my cheeks. Embarrassment wars with longing. Those little strawberries remind me of his hands on my hips and his lips brushing my hair as he kissed my forehead in the garden, of our confessions among the clovers, of his reassurance and patience.

A loud bang rings out and the potted rosebush behind him bursts open with a flash of emerald green and crimson as yet another unwanted strawberry plant grows before tumbling to the floor, a few of the fruits rolling away.

Laughter erupts around me, and through my mortification I find myself laughing too.

T he following morning, Tavien’s family’s keyed sword arrives by one of his cousins, who thankfully assumed it was for him to wear at one of the coronation events and asked no questions.

I clear off one of the smaller tables and Tavien sets the package down to unwrap it. Nueena, Leon, and I gather around as the sword is revealed. It’s a stunning weapon with an onyx hilt.

I reach out my hand to touch it and a blast of invisible heat has me pulling my fingers back. Leon and Nueena are also met with a blistering warning.

“Typically keyed items are to a sole person, but this was forged by my great-grandfather, who ensured only his line and legacy can use it,” he tells Leon. “One day when there are no longer any Delwinns, the sword will choose a new wielder.” He picks it up and holds the blade to the sunlight streaming into the apothecary, admiring the workmanship .

Nunea slips off her Zemra stone that dangles on her neck. “My stone holds some of your magic. I wonder if it will let it near.” Tavien’s brows knit with worry as she slowly presses the stone to the blade. Nothing happens. She pulls the stone back, touching the sharp point. “No trace of heat. So the sword recognizes your magic within the stone but not when it’s on me. Fascinating.”

“The crown may be doing something similar, recognizing the Forger’s magic enough to let you wear it, but since you are neither the one it is keyed to nor the past wearer’s chosen successor, you are stuck in the in-between,” Tavien concludes.

“Lovely,” I say, the words dripping with despair.

Two sharp knocks strike the door and Lillan joins us, Viella at her heels. Lillian has no interest in the Delwinn’s family sword, but Viella gets close. “Keyed sword?” she asks.

“It is,” Tavien says.

Viella takes a step back. “It’s a beautiful weapon. I would love to beat Lillian with it in a sparring match.” Lillian opens her mouth to argue but Vi continues, “We have word from Aldreania. Grayden has officially declared that war is coming. He is publicly accusing King Zilias of Kalvorn of his father’s death. The king and queen of Kalvorn adamantly deny any involvement, of course.”

“How much time do we think it will take for war to start?” I ask, fear reaching into my chest. How much longer are those who live in Adreania safe from Grayden’s death sentence on the battlefield? I cannot let countless Adreanians die.

“He has every available man training, resources being compiled. Possibly months, but anything can happen. Adreania has not gone to war for many years. He has much to prepare for. Grayden is not a patient man. He will rush into this and it will not end well for his people. He wants that crown back and revenge for his father. It will make him rash,” Viella says with a frown.

I think back to Leon’s words. You would make a magnificent queen. Any kingdom would be extraordinarily lucky to have you lead them.

“Grayden would rather rule over rubble than give it up.” I take a deep breath. “If I were to try and stop this, if the mortals were to support my claim as queen, as crown wearer, what would I need to do? How can we stop him?”

They all stare at me.

Nueena is the first to speak. “Della, your safety needs to come first.”

“I know, and I do not want to be queen of Adreania, but to sit back and watch so many suffer at Grayden’s hands, that’s not something I can do anymore.” It may be the last thing I ever do.

Leon stares at me triumphantly and it sends a thrill within me. “We will come up with a foolproof plan, one that keeps you safe while taking back the throne.”

I turn to Nueena. “What about the Airvell River? The one ran through the Merawood Forest into Adreania. Zarella’s wedding gift to Inara, for the mortals. When they had the water, their crops flourished and their animals never got sick. Could we let it flow again? If I have the crown and bring them back the river, it may be enough for the mortals to turn on Grayden. He promised them magic. I could actually bring it.”

Nueena purses her lips with sympathy. “It's still there, just behind a dam. No matter how betrayed Zarella felt, she still wanted Inara to be in a prosperous and safe kingdom, so she reluctantly opened the river out of love for her best friend. During the war with Adreania, Zarella took the river back, vowing it would never flow freely there again. My mother would have restored the river if she could. Zarella put a powerful enchantment surrounding it. It would require more powerful magic than my mother or I possess.”

“Perhaps,” Tavien surmises, “if you could control the crown, it has enough magic to break the enchantments, but—” He lets his words fade away.

“But I can’t even open a lock on a book without fainting?” I finish for him.

“Right, for now,” Tavien says apologetically.

I rub my face, suddenly tired, the pounding in my head starting up again. “If I get the crown off, I have no claim to that throne, so I can do nothing to save the mortals, but if I keep the crown, I cannot escape the hourglass that is held over my life, and I can’t help anyone if I’m dead. It's maddening.”

“You’re not going to die,” Leon and Nueena say at the exact same time.

Leon continues, “I know you don’t believe me, but I believe in you. We will find a way out of this.”

“Yes,” Nueena agrees, “we will.”

T he next few days follow a familiar pattern. Tavien and Leon work on the elixir, tirelessly mixing and collaborating. One ingredient is listed incorrectly and the liquid turns gray, some reaction gone wrong, forcing them to start from scratch. Reyna is brought in, and they are able to find where they went wrong.

The crown continues to be a painful reminder of what is at stake. Each day I feel a little worse, needing naps in the afternoons. The compression of magic builds and builds, and Nueena often takes my hand and relieves the pressure.

Nueena and I wake early on the seventh day. Together we watch the rising sun illuminate the sea of anafaea flowers. The moon fades with morning’s light, dewdrops sparkling like stars on the petals.

“Now we can finally remove the key ingredient.” Nueena kneels in the soil, inspecting the flowers’ centers.

I reach into one flower and pluck the dark blue bulb from its center. It is incredibly light, made up of ten petals enclosed around each other in a soft sphere. At its base, longer petals hang over the sides of the stem. “What do we do with them?”

She stands in front of the healing flowers. “They need to be removed and dried out. We leave for the Gem Court today, but they should be ready to pulverize when we return.” She motions with her hands and the midnight bulb petals rise one by one, swirling in the air as if it were raining in reverse. Each glistening petal follows the motion of her hand skyward, twirling together near the palace walls and turning towards the north tower, where Tavien and Leon await them.

We link arms and head back up to our wing.

“Last crowning ceremony before your actual coronation. I know the Gem Court plans to put your last four to shame.”

She throws me a small conspiratorial grin. “I have no doubt about that. Your court throws the best parties. After the past few days, I believe we’ve all earned a little time for revelry to drown out anxieties of the future.” She tightens her arm around me and I squeeze back.

“What weighs on your soul, Nu?” I look at her, but she stares straight ahead as we climb the tower stairs. Her faraway looks worries me. She has so much pressure on her; a fair amount she places on herself. The weight of her royal future always had her striving for perfection, a lifelong pursuit of excellence to be ready to rule Ellova.

She sighs deeply. “My mother leaves behind a great legacy. She ruled with honor and earned the respect of every court for centuries. I know it will take some time for me to command the same. Some think the throne has chosen me too early. The courts may not give the grace they so freely gave my mother.”

I take a moment to collect my thoughts. Nueena is not one for empty words. “The choice of the throne is not for them to agree or disagree with. You have sat beside her for every Guardian gathering, council session, and court meeting for decades. You even sat outside with your ear pressed to the door when you were too young to attend.” I reach over and playfully flick her pointed ear. “Nyvenah has taught you everything she knows, and you have memorized how your grandmother and even her mother handled each situation and complication. Once Nyvenah returns from her well-deserved vacation after your coronation, she will sit on your council, guiding you. The fae of Ellova do not require perfection from you, Nu. They only desire for you to rule with integrity and compassion. Both are traits you overflow with.”

She leans over and kisses me on the cheek as we reach the top step. “Thank you, Del. ”

When we join Leon and Tavien, they have already set out the petals on the table. Tavien’s palms light and he sends a blue ring of flames circling above the anafaea. Not burning, but as the room heats, the flowers begin to wilt before he calls back his flames. “They will be ready by the time we return. For now, we have a crowning ceremony to pack for.”

“What should I expect for my first crowning ceremony?” Leon asks.

Nueena, Tavien, and I all look at each other and grin. In unison we all say, “The best party of your life.”