Page 69 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
The last two boxes contained two crowns, both resting on red velvet cushions.
I approached the first one, mesmerized. The headpiece was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It had a strong base, with swirls of platinum twisting against each other. It ended in seven perfect spires, a black jewel perched on each of their sharp tips, as if they took great joy in defying gravity. The sides had countless pearls beaded into it, overflowing in two long strands that would cascade around my face.
The perfect blend of soft and hard.
“Amazing.” I raised my hand to touch it, then froze. I knew better than to let shiny things mesmerize me. I forced my gaze toward the second box and instantly deflated. “Is that one for emergencies?”
The second crown was…Well, I didn’t like it. Its metal looked too much like bleeding copper unable to decide if it wanted to be gold or red, as if flames had licked its sides in some great inferno. It was short and stubby and just…no.
Leesa must’ve noticed my crestfallen face, because she quickly added. “I thought you might like the first one better, but I want these lessons to be as comprehensive as possible. I wanted you to choose.”
I laughed, relieved. That copper menace of a crown was not coming anywhere near my head; its jagged base looked like it would pierce my scalp.
But the pearl one was gorgeous. It would hug my plumping cheeks very nicely. I could almost feel the weight of it on my head, pressing and demanding. “Yes, you’re very thorough.”
Leesa’s shoulders shimmied with pride. In the corner, Goose gulped again. “I can also tell you the small one’s a relic from back when the royal family could take more than one spouse. With marriage alliances formed left and right, our kings and queens wanted some semblance of a choice. The pearl crown was for the favorite. The others got the metal one.”
My brows furrowed. “How much of a relic? Is there a second mother-in-law I haven’t met?”
“No, no.” Leesa’s eyes widened with unease. “The royal family stopped doing that more than a century ago. They decided it was best after queen Elira’s four husbands blasted the palace to pieces arguing over who she loved more. Then king Draven–”
“Elira’s great-grandson,” I said with a smile.
“Very good.” Leesa beamed. “King Draven’s six wives poisoned him, then themselves. The Clan gave up on the tradition after that.”
I huffed a laugh. Zandyr could’ve mentioned these relatives when he’d claimed none of his ancestors had endangered the Capital.
“Besides, even if the royal family still followed the rule,” Leesa went on, voice quieting to a whisper. “King Eldryan would havenevertaken another wife. He didn’t go to war for Zavoya for nothing.”
My eyebrows rose. There was no mention of this in any of the library books I had been able to read. Even the tome Kaya hadgifted me glossed over the truth, referencing a Clan dispute and unrest after the marriage. “He went towarfor her?”
Like father, like son, apparently.
“Yes, it was a ghastly thing. He had an arranged marriage with a princess from a Northern Clan. The wedding ceremony had been planned, the princess’ family had all come down to the Capital. Then Eldryan announced he was marrying his advisors’ daughter and nobody else. The Capital streets hadn’t been filled with so much blood since the Scarlet Bane wiped out half our population. Buildings and temples were set on fire. The Citadel was named Phoenix Peak after, after we managed to rebuild it. Barely. It was awful.”
My mind jolted back to when Zandyr had talked about true mates.
So absorbed in your mate that nobody and nothing else matters, his rich voice whispered in my ear.
Eldryan had risked countless lives for his love for Zavoya. No wonder Zandyr didn’t seem too fond of the idea–or his parents.
Indignation burned at me.
“Why did Zavoya and Eldryan ever agree to a marriage alliance for their ownsonif his father risked the Clan to break his?” I said in a hiss.
At least my parents had the excuse of marrying for love, like all of grandpa Constantine’s sons. But after what had happened between Clara’s parents–and worse, Dax and Dara’s mother and father–he’d been more open to the idea of arranged marriages for his grandbabies.
“The decisions of the king and queen aren’t ours to decipher,” Leesa said primly. But then her eyes shifted and her head lowered toward me. “But some say it was to protect our prince.”
“Why?” I asked. When Leesa hesitated, I took a chance and leaned closer to her. “In the interest of complete thoroughness, of course.”
She opened and closed her rosy lips a few times, before she went on, “The Northern Clans wanted revenge. Zavoya and Eldryan were already married and had their powers, they were untouchable. But the prince was a vulnerable child. He became a target. Assassination attempts, kidnappings. An alliance with the Protectorate, who’d defeated the Northern Clans once and could do it again, offered him more protection. That contract meant two Clans had an interest in keeping him alive.”
I stared at Leesa. “You’re telling me my own grandfather might have protected Zandyr?”
“That I cannot say. Only Constantine, Zavoya, and Eldryan know for sure.” Leesa took an obvious step back. We were done sharing secrets.
It suddenly made sense.
