Page 21 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

If I can take Jedrick back to Ellova, the impending war for the crown between Adreania and Kalvorn would be over before it even began. So many lives would be saved. If I could disable the men who captured him and guide the horse and cart to the entrance only I use, this could change everything. With the crownin Ellova, Grayden would have no hold on the throne. No mortal man from Jedrick’s family line is worthy of wearing the crown anyway.

If I can get it to Nueena, she will start her reign with unparalleled power. If the crown is as powerful as the myths claim, she might be the only one who can control it.

The men continue on with their journey, laughing quietly.

I rise from the hiding spot once they are out of sight. “Farren.”

My beloved fox looks up at my whisper.

“Hide.”

He does, racing off into the bushes.

I advance in their direction, darting through the trees and around large boulders. I take a secret path and, with no horse to lead through unfamiliar territory, arrive further ahead of them on their course. Patient to strike, I lean behind a thicket of trees. Just ahead, the saplings are slightly wider apart with more of the forest free of the thick foliage, and I wait, hidden, ’til they arrive.

Decades ago, when deciding which court to vow my magic to, the Court of Swords with its many armies was the first to be rejected. I have no desire for bloodshed or war strategy, but with every defense lesson Nueena had to take as future Realm Keeper, I was encouraged to join her. Commander Lillian never allowed us to skip those classes by hiding in the library.

I’ll definitely owe Lillian if I survive this encounter. She’ll scowl if I make her any jewelry as a token of my appreciation, but perhaps I can make something for her mate.

The men are slow-moving now, the wheels bouncing over large rocks that make the cart difficult to navigate through the trees.

I only have three weapons.

My magic.

A dagger of gold.

My body.

Mortal men have a weakness for soft flesh and do not see women as a threat when they should.

Removing the band that holds my hair, I flip my head upside down, my golden light auburn locks puffing out with soft curls. Ireach into the front of my corset and shove my breasts up to a painful point.

The golden dagger in my hand is too threatening. A more delicate approach is needed. The gold vibrates again, pulling in on itself, separating into small strawberry-sized nuggets like the ones I find in the river that runs through the forest.

Wooden wheels hit the stone-filled path just before I make my presence known.

I start to sing loudly. It’s off-key and a poor excuse for a melody, but it’s only meant to disarm them. A wide-eyed maiden lost in the moonlit woods.

It’s not my greatest plan.

I stumble into their view and fake a show of surprised delight. They slow the horse; the two at the cart have their hoods up but still reveal a sliver of startled eyes. One puts his hand on his sword after stepping in front of Jedrick’s hand to hide it from my view.

The false surprise fades and I give them a grateful smile. “Oh! Finally!” I just need to touch the metal of the fitted gauntlets they wear. “I amsoglad you found me! I’ve been so lost! Is Kalvorn over this mountain?”

They stare at my hopeful expression.

The leader wears silver armor and stays on his horse with no concern in his words, just mild irritation. “What are you doing out here so late? Who else lives in these woods?”

I shrink my shoulders. “Oh, I’m from Kalvorn. I followed the river up from the port but I seem to have lost my way. I’m collecting moonflowers and gold overflows from the river. I use them to make doorknobs.”

With one eyebrow raised, he asks, “Doorknobs…moonflowers?” He must know no such thing exists.

In unison, the three men look down at the pile of gold in my hand.

“You can have it all if you would be so kind as to provide directions back home. My family must be so worried.” I frantically add, “My children!”

In Ellova I have seen gold used as doorstops, but two of the menstanding before me, with their worn hoods and gaunt cheeks, have a harsher life in Adreania.

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