Page 14 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

“Are you denying me?” His voice is full of venom this time, any false kindness fading at my refusal.

He attempts to stand in front of me, taking a step closer. I mirror him by taking a large step back, only for him to come forward again. There is no logical reason any true Adreanian would refuse his request; most would be thrilled at this opportunity to taste an exotic fruit. Even when he’s denied something so small, his rage is boiling to the surface.

“You honor me, but?—”

Taking the last two desperate steps I have behind me, I find myself with my back pressed against the stone wall as he closes the gap I was desperate to keep between us. Grayden presses his lips to my ear and I stop breathing. Screaming for help would be futile. The iron guards watching will do nothing, the courtiers wouldn’t care, and my fellow vendors wouldn’t dare intervene.

His hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing but holding me in place. “You and I are going to be quite good friends soon.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” It slips out of me and I curse myself as his hand tightens. My nails dig into the wall behind me to stop me from reaching for my dagger. It would be so easy to slide it from its holder and plunge it into his neck, but that would be to sign my own death warrant.

“My father ordered me to leave you alone, but he’s on his way to greet death, and then I’ll be king.” He sharply taps my cheek, the sting emphasizing his words. “You want to be a good Royal Jeweler, don’t you? I’ll be needing you to make me some exceptionally special items for my impending coronation. The moment you hear the word of the old man’s death, you are to report directly to thecastle, alone. If you don’t, I will have your little shop burned to the ground with your children in it. Do you understand?”

He says it with a smile as if it’s something he bestows on me, an offer I should be grateful for instead of the vile threat that it is. Nausea rolls over me at his monstrous words that reek of liquor and smoke.

I try to nod but he grabs my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my throat, before he leans in closer to my ear.

“Good, and maybe one day after I’m king, I’ll fuck you on that throne.” And he shoves a piece of the navlue fruit into my mouth, rind and all. I nearly choke on it, and the overpowering sweetness makes me gag.

He releases me, leaving me coughing and rubbing my neck, gasping for breath as he walks into the crowd of courtiers, who still watch the play.

Fuck him and fuck this wretched kingdom.

I grab my satchel and throw the remaining pieces into it without care. It’s heavy with the weight of the gold coins from the night’s profit. As I turn to race out of the hall, the cheers of the crowd at the performers’ final bow follow me out.

CHAPTER 6

Desperation to escape claws at me. Off to one side of the bazaar is a stone archway leading to a long hallway only servants use. My heeled boots echo in my attempt to flee Grayden and his atrocious words. They are sinking into my skin and my stomach turns; my skin feels contaminated where I can still feel his foul grasp.

What if Grayden is following me? I almost stumble turning around, but the hallway is empty. Frantically seeking somewhere near to hide. If he decides to find me again, he will know I came through the castle’s main entrance and will search for me there. I need to slip out through one of the back exits that wrap around to the front. It’s impossible for me to leave now; I cannot risk anyone following me to Cyanna’s door.

Grayden can never make the connection between my cousin and me.

I race down the hall, music fading with every step. I almost miss the sliver of the night sky behind thick blue curtains not completely pulled together. I pause for a moment before taking a few steps back.

A balcony garden.

I push the heavy curtains out of my way and pull on the irondoor handles. Thankfully, the large glass doors open with ease, letting in the icy air, and I slip inside. Dark clouds promise a storm-filled night. The scents of roses and rain linger in the air, and I take deep, desperate breaths. Closing the door, I press my back to the chilled wall for a moment.

Unlike the chaos of Nueena’s garden, this one is meticulously organized. Wooden planter boxes with a variety of plants and flowers take up most of the space. Vibrant pink flowers with glossy green points on their stems peek out next to a small patch of buds with dark leaves with red veins. Vedesdron, a powerful poison, and in the other corner, a small rose bush is nestled with geraniums.

Eyes closed, I try to relax, but at the sound of heavy steps approaching, fear fills me again, the knot in my stomach twisting painfully.

If Grayden has followed me and we are without an audience, I can fight him off; of that I am sure. The low likelihood of me getting safely out of Adreania if I fight him makes me hesitate. His guards are always close by, willing to turn a blind eye to his cruelty. My hand hovers over my leg, ready to pull out the dagger strapped to my thigh. The steps grow louder and stop at the door. The handle slowly turns as my fear digs its claws into me.

Please don't be Grayden.

A tall shadow stretches across the balcony, the light from the hallway hiding their face.

“Arra?” Leon shuts the door behind him, head moving back and forth, searching for me. He holds a large lantern that illuminates the garden. The relief of Leon finding me has a soft noise escaping my lips and he whips around to find me half-hidden in shadows.

Our eyes meet, and he takes broad steps. Suddenly he’s in front of me. I tilt my head up to see him and my heart sputters. Leon’s green eyes frantically roam my face and, arms looking for any sign of harm, brows pushed together above a heartbreaking frown.

“Arra, are you hurt? I saw you run from him.” His tone is sharp with an undercurrent of unmistakable rage, but softened with the genuine concern in his eyes. I get a little lost in them; they are a green hue, so rare in color. I wish a gemstone like itexisted so I could make a necklace out of it and wear it forever. Not unlike an emerald but darker green, with more depth to the color.

Slowly nodding, I continue to stare at his handsome face. My throat tightens and my eyes start to water. This is surely the last time I will ever see him. I can never come back here, to this castle, to this kingdom.

I try to memorize his features as if I were a painter instead of a jewelsmith and could capture him forever in oiled paints and stretched canvas.

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