Page 48 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

“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 androsewater 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 byAlvina, 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 magiccouldcrown 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 thiskind 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 meslowly, 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.

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