Page 12 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

He chuckles and leans over, hands on the table, and I immediately mirror his motion. Our noses are too close together but neither of us moves just yet. I savor this nearness even if we cannot touch. His sweetly healing scent drifts over to me. Strawberry oil and the herbs he uses with his medicines.

“My birthday gift for the princess?” he asks. “She has been most helpful with my research.”

Comprehending his question this time, I nod. “Yes, of course. It was finished to your specifications.”

Two women walk up to the table, breaking our stolen moment. I lean back, already missing his closeness, and pull out the delicate tiara from the square piece of black silk it was wrapped in. When I hand it to him, our fingers brush as we both watch the movement, neither of us moving away. It is flawlessly designed, perfectly balanced, and exactly as he described to me.

Anyone in this crowded ballroom would agree it is stunning, but I want his words. Just for a moment to pretend his thoughts of the crown are what he thinks of me.

“Does it meet your expectations?” I wait impatiently for him to inspect my work but he doesn’t even glance down at it.

“It’s truly beautiful.” His eyes don’t leave mine when he says it, his words so genuine in their softness. “Like all of your work.”

The moths fluttering in my stomach turn into heat, warmth lighting me up from the inside at his praise. “Thank you.” Drawn in again, we return to leaning towards each other to talk.

“You are incredibly talented, Lady Arra,” he adds.

I laugh. “Many years of dedication and hard work. Talent is just the gilded first step.” My fae ability to manipulate metal certainly helps, but better to change the subject. “How is your research into finding a cure going?”

“Not well, I’m afraid, but I did make an interesting discovery in the royal library recently. In a hidden tome, I found illustrations of what I believe may be the lost anafaea flower. The fae flora may no longer exist, but if that flower were found, I believe it would be a key ingredient to any cure, but that would mean traveling beyond the iron wall. I’ve sent word across the Elbasan Sea to Versairen to see if their libraries are home to any similar research. King Jedrick has promised a year’s salary and a generous land transfer to anyone who can connect us with what I need to cure the sickness.”

My eyebrows draw together. Why would the Adreanian library hold any information on the anafaea flower or the fae? Inara, the first queen of the mortal realm, was the only fae to ever live here. “Do you think some knowledge exists in Versairen for a cure?”

He looks disheartened by the thought. “No, I do not, and unfortunately, Grayden believes Kalvorn might already have a cure sincethey are not affected by this sickness. When I was studying medicine in Versairen’s capital, healers would theorize about the fae flower, but none was ever found. I hope to find it one day but I’m afraid the anafaea flower might be truly lost to us.”

The anafaea flower would cure the sickness that has fallen on the mortals. In the fae history scrolls it is said it could cure almost anything, force even death to yield to it, but that was a long time ago.

If it did bloom again, it would not do so in this heartless land, but if he wishes to try and find it, I will not crush his hope to save those who need him. “I am sorry.” It is a risk but I gently place my hand on his arm in a sympathetic touch. “If the flower is out there, I am sure you will find it.”

He pauses for a moment, looking down at my hand, before he places his own on top of mine, the caress electrifying, and squeezes it before stepping back. “Fortunately, I have had much success with willow bark as a pain reliever, so my experiments are not for nothing.” His expression turns wistful. “It would have been nice for you to have joined me for an afternoon to see my research. Jedrick rests after lunch, and I often try to sneak away for a few hours midday for my own pursuits.”

I nod. “I would enjoy that.”

His smile widens at my response as we stare at each other.

It’s nearly painful, this longing for moments I can never have. It would have been lovely to listen to his voice while he shared his passions. To see his life’s work, to know him just a little better than our current situation allows. To bask in his company for an afternoon together outside of this crowded ballroom.

He opens his mouth to speak again but closes it, leaning back to stand up straight. We both turn at the sound of the king coughing off to the side where he watches the horribly boring play of his life. “I have to return to King Jedrick now.” Annoyance flashes across Leon’s face but it is gone just as fast. He rewraps the sapphire tiara and gives me a short bow, holding the tiara to his chest.

“Since you will be gone, I will not request my monthly commission from you, but I hope—” He pauses for a moment, collecting histhoughts, and my heart aches to tell him the truth. “Never mind. Enjoy your evening, my lady. I will return at the end of the night to be your escort.”

Neither of us moves. My heart skips a beat, hoping for one more word from him. He opens his mouth to say something else but nothing comes out. He shakes his head ever so slightly before he downs the rest of his wine. He gives me a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and he walks away towards the dais, where Jedrick’s coughing worsens, not allowing me a moment to respond.

I plant my feet firmly, resisting the urge to race after him, demanding answers.

The night goes on slowly and leaves me with plenty of time to think of Leon, as I’ve sold most of the jewelry. The last few women shopping at my booth do not seem to notice my annoyance as I wait for this night to end. Noble men and women amble from vendor to vendor or dance in the center of the room when the play draws to a close for its final act. The courtiers’ servants walk swiftly to carriages with their lords’ and ladies’ needless items.

With every purchase, I place a handful of the gold coins into many smaller leather bags. The satchel at my feet grows until it is almost full with the little bundles, each with just enough gold coins to support a family for a month.

I arrange the last few pieces I have left before I can leave this heartless place, so focused on my task I do not hear Princess Lyrora approach.

“Hello, Lady Arra, how are you this evening?”

Unlike in Ellova, the royals here expect formal greetings, and I drop myself into a deep curtsy.

The young royal looks up at me, pleased, from her wheeled throne pushed by her guard, her bored lady’s maid standing just to her right. The previous week brought on Lyrora’s twenty-second birthday, an age the royal healers who delivered her feared shewouldn’t reach. She and I met years ago when I was commissioned by her father to add gold-painted flowers and decorative gems on her iron throne, and she has been kind to me in every meeting since.

She turns to her lady’s maid. “That will be all for now, thank you.” Her voice is kind when she speaks, a stark contrast to her brother’s hateful tone. The maid bows and heads off, still close to the wall but out of earshot.

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