Page 2 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

“Really?” Elation in her words. “I know I should love all the crown makers’ gifts equally, but I already know your court’s will be my favorite.”

Our backs are still to each other, so she misses my triumphant smile.

I touch six evenly spaced spots surrounding the large amethyst with my finger. With my touch, a hollow dip forms in the gold and I place an emerald in each crevice. Happy with the placement, I lightly tap each gemstone and the gold shimmers, moving like a wave around the emerald to secure it in place. I trace my finger around each stone and swirl etch into the crown; the liquid gold follows my finger’s path and creates new whorls and grooves in the glittering metal.

Perfect.

On the inside of her crown, in tiny cursive letters, I write my initials into the gold with my fingertip, signaling its completion.IA.Izadella Aranelle.

I wrap the crown in silks and place it on a stuffed pillow in a small, bejeweled golden travel chest. With one touch, the lock fuses together.

“You can turn around now. Your gift is hidden away.”

I gently place her crown on the floor under my desk next to Farren’s fluffy bed, currently empty of the black small fox, before I grab my dagger off my workstation.

The forge’s low flames wink off the golden weapon. Engraved on the blade’s handle is Farren’s little fox face. I gather up the dark fabric of my travel skirt to expose the top of my thigh and place one heeled boot on the work stool. Leather cords are sewn together to make a holder deserving of the beautiful weapon. Attaching the bronze buckles together, I strap the dagger to my right leg. The leather pulls tight on my skin, leaving an impression on my ample thigh.

The gown I’ve chosen to wear tonight is a deep emerald green, almost the exact shade of Leon’s eyes, embroidered with gold thread in delicate swirls and leaves going up the curves of my thick waist. The neckline of my gown is jewel-encrusted and glimmers in the blue light. A streak of gold dust on my eyelids highlights my brown eyes.

One of the swords my father forged leans against the wall, and it is the last thing I grab.

“Is all your jewelry packed up for tonight?” Nueena asks. It’s not safe for her to join me on my journey to the mortal realm, but she always keeps me company as far as she can. Unlike the dark clothing I have to wear as part of my disguise into the mortal realm, she wears a fine riding gown of lilac.

Her Zemra necklace dangles around her neck; the small shard of amethyst is dull since Tavien’s twin crystal is parted from it. As part of their soulbond, the stones hold a small piece of each other’s magic.

Every full moon brings the familiar swirl of elation at seeing Leon, spending just a few moments with him, despite the fear of getting discovered. “Everything is ready to be sold at that wretched King’s Bazaar.” I take a step closer to her. “You know I appreciate you coming with me through the Merawood forest, but we may need to consider your safety more now that we’re so close to your coronation. This has to be the last night you come with me. It may no longer be safe for you?—”

Nueena waves her hand dismissively to cut me off. I know before I can even ask her to stay behind that she will refuse. “You’ve never come close to getting caught sneaking into Adreania in the decades you’ve been bringing provisions to the mortals.” Her golden-brown eyes are tender, her smile reassuring, before she reaches up and affectionately flicks my nose. “Calm your worried heart, Del.”

My attempt to swat her hand away is thwarted when she grabs mine in midair, pulling me out of the small stone workshop that houses my forge and into the yard of my cottage.

The evening sun pours through the tall trees that surround my home, its fading light flickering off the surface of the small lake and painting my dearest friend of over a century in a gentle, warm glow. Frogs splash in the cool waters, and flowers grow in patches, filling the space between the trees and around the pond, giving the crisp air a kiss of floral sweetness.

“Besides,” she adds over her shoulder, “if we don’t go, how would you see that handsome healer you are soveryfond of?” She winks at me and my heart beats faster at the mention of Leon.

In a few hours I’ll be in his presence. Just the thought of him spreads small flutters under my corset, my mouth going dry.

He is notmineof course, not really.

How could there be a future for us? Anyone in service to the mortal King Jedrick Fasaile lives a life fully devoted to him and the stolen fae crown he wears. Still, Leon claims my thoughts as I fall asleep each night.

I gently pull my hand from Nueena’s, my thick golden cuffs clinking together as I attempt to convince her one last time. “The Divide between the mortal and fae realms can still be dangerous and I’m not the one being crowned Realm Keeper in a few weeks. The entire Kingdom of Ellova needs you safe! Tavien needs you safe;Ineed you safe.” It's hopeless to argue with her, but it must be said. I’m sure she heard the samebe safespeech from her Zemra before he helped sneak her out of the palace.

She ignores me and makes sweet humming noises to her horse, Citrine. “Della worries too much, doesn’t she?”

I roll my eyes. Onyx, my horse, steps closer to me, dragging the wooden cart attached to him, and I give him an affectionate pat.

The large cart Nueena brought from the palace kitchens is filled with provisions for my mortal cousin, Cyanna, and the sweet children she cares for at her orphanage in the mortal realm. They are the reason I have left the protection of the fae realm every full moon for the past decade.

She is the last of my father’s bloodline, too precious to me to abandon.

Lining the bottom of the cart are jars filled with purple rice, dried beans, and finely ground brown flour, with sacks of potatoes and grains resting atop them. The delicious-smelling chocolate rolls are wrapped in small blue handkerchiefs and nestled alongside cooking oils, spices, and fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Help me hide my ears?” I reach into my pocket and pull out two short gold chains. She moves to stand behind me, gathering up half of my hip-length, reddish-golden curls. While I am only half-mortal, my fae ears would give me away.

At the sharp tips of my ears are piercings adorned with small, thick hoops. I clip each chain to the hoops and pull the ends of the chains together behind my head. My jewelsmith magic fires up within me and the tips of my fingers heat, the metal obeying my desire to fuse the pieces together. With the two chains forged together, it pulls my fae ears flat against the sides of my scalp, hiding them completely. Nueena lets down my hair and it falls over my honeyed, golden skin.

From the front, I look fully mortal.

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