Page 35 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

Alvina’s blood flows in my veins. If the crown were to respond to anyone, it should be me, here in this room, so why won’t it come off?

Fuck.

Acceptance takes root in me, and when I return to the cottage, Nueena’s crown in hand. Leon is ready to leave, both of the packs over his shoulder. He waits patiently as I take one look around the cottage for anything I may have missed. A sense of dread coils deep in my gut as we walk out the front door. The cottage locks itself with long-lost protective magic; once I leave, it will allow only Farren in and out at his will.

The sun is bright in the blue morning sky. If I were a cloudkeeper and could control the weather like Camarra, leader of the Green Court, I would have the skies rage with me, sending thunder and lightning to embody my misery of parting with Leon.

We walk in the direction of the Airvell River, Farren running ahead of us. Leon breaks the silence with small comments on the thriving trees and abundant wildlife but mostly we do not speak. I attempt to seem casual, as if I am not about to abandon him.

We pause to fill our travel bottles in the cool waters. Leon starts to walk again but I stop him, my hand on his arm. “Wait.”

“Do you need to rest? What can I do?”

The concern and care he has shown me make this even harder. I miss him even while he stands here before me with those warm eyes.

I pull on the straps that attach the sword to my pack. The sword my father forged over a century ago in his small metal workshop in Adreania. I always loved the emeralds that surround the hilt, but leaving Leon with something to remember me by and give him protection means more to me at this moment.

I hold it out to him. “This is for you.”

He takes it from me, admiring the gemstones and checking its balance. “Do you need me to carry it?”

“No, Leon. It’s a parting thank-you gift, for everything, but this is where we separate. If you head around the mountain between Adreania and Kalvorn, in about a day you will reach the Elbasan Sea. There you will find a small dock. My mother would take me there when she needed some supplies. It’s run by Kalvorn but you will be able to find a ship to take you home. You can fund the journey with the bag of gems I placed in your bag. You can charter a whole ship back to Versairen if you like.” I try not to let the dread of this goodbye seep into my voice. “It’s been a pleasure, truly. I hope you can return home to a life free of Adreania, and build a new, happy life. You have been gone for a long time.”

Forcing myself to hold eye contact, I shove down the desire to pull him towards me for a goodbye kiss. I extend my hand out to him for a farewell handshake and one last bittersweet touch. He makes no move to leave and my heart skips a beat. His eyes travel slowly from my face to my outstretched hand that still hovers in the air, waiting for him, before trailing back up to me with an amused expression.

He slips his hand into mine. “And where do you think you are going?”

“My travels will take me elsewhere, but I hope one day we can meet again.” My attempt at a friendly, reassuring smile falters.

I try to end our farewell handshake but he twists his hand in mine, entwining our fingers together. His thumb brushes over my fingers, our palms pressed together.

“Izadella,” he says patiently, determination lacing every word, “I will not leave your side for the foreseeable future. Whether we head towards the docks or the highest mountain of Widowmaker’s Peak, my place is beside you.”

Damn it, Leon, why must you make this so difficult?

I muster all of my courage for a firm answer. “No. I’m sorry, Leon. I am, but you can’t come with me to where I’m going.”

“Oh?” His voice is gruff. “And why is that?”

I take a deep breath, already exhausted from this conversation, my head drumming with a dull ache. “You will not be welcomed there. I am truly sorry. It’s best if we part here. Trust me, please.”

The smile he has worn all morning is gone, that strong jaw set in a firm line with all of his focus solely on me. Taking his free hand, he points to the embroidered symbol on the clean shirt he put on this morning. It’s a dark reddish-brown sword facing straight down and inside a black ring tilting to the side. The ring surrounds the weapon at a high angle. One side of the ring is between the hilt and the handle, the other by the blade’s end.

“Do you know what this means?”

“Yes, the symbol of Adreania.” It comes out of me in a whisper. The intensity with which he is staring at me steals my breath, rooting me to the spot.

His eyes bore into mine as he takes a step towards me, the forest around us fading with his nearness. Neither of us remove our entwined hands. “That is partly true, but see the sword here?”

Leaving the intimacy of his gaze, I track his hand as he ever so slowly drags a finger down the deep red thread that creates the blade.

“Those of us who have sworn loyalty to the crown that rests atop your head bear the red sword. We do not marry or sire children; our life is fully dedicated to the throne. My life no longer exists outside of this loyalty to you. It is an existence of devotion, fidelity only to the wearer, ’til death.”

Anticipation and dread sends my heart thundering as he takes another step towards me, his hand still in mine. We are chest to chest now when I start trembling, and I know he can feel it.

“The red thread that embroiders the sword did not use a dye to give it that color; I bled over the needle that sewed it. Do you know what that means?”

I shake my head.

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