Page 45 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

The main hallway on this level is mostly empty, with its shining marble floors and open windows. Most of the residents of the Ellovian palace are away at the midday meal. Lillian leads us at a quick and steady pace back to our rooms.

I link arms with Nueena and she squeezes my hand, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Is he as wonderful as you thought?”

I cannot resist the urge to look back and whisper, “Yes.”

Her smile is as giddy as I feel.

Leon takes everything in as we walk through the High Court’s palace. Every few steps, pillars wrapped in flora hold up a half-moon ceiling of opalescent glass where sunlight streams through in pastel beams. Much like the natatorium, potted plants line the halls. I follow his eyes as he gazes up to the chandeliers made of glowing crystals encased in light. Wisteria flowers, frozen in time, hang gracefully outside the windows, blocking the view of Ellova’s capital city, Lavencia.

The last staircase in the west tower leads to a similar hallway lined with family portraits. Our small group passes a few portraits of myself with Nueena and the royal family. Leon turns his confused eyes on me.

The last and largest painting hangs in a golden frame just outside of our rooms: a portrait of Nueena and Tavien dancing in ceremonial gold attire at their Zemras celebration to honor their new matebond.

Lillian turns down another hallway and waits at the wide double doors, its carved archway made of gold, flanked by two twisting trees. Sensing our arrival, the doors open on their own, welcoming us to the royal west wing, the tower I share with Nueena and Tavien.

Nueena leads Leon into our large, circular sitting room. She gives a little sigh of contentment at the sight of our main living space and summons four large fae lights to illuminate the spacious room as hot tea is set for us.

A golden arch identical to the front entrance leads to each of our private rooms. There is a fine dining area with crafted chairs around a driftwood table with a towering floral arrangement in various shades of purple and green in the center. Behind the table, but before the balcony, sit the soft couches, and piles of books and unrolled scrolls lie over edges and on the floor.

Lillian, who keeps a watchful eye on Leon, says, “Have a seat.”

He does, but not before he looks out over the balcony and the Merawood Forest below.

Lillian’s eyes darken.

I walk to the other side of the room, where twin doors lead to my quarters. “Leon, I’ll be right back. I just need to change, and when Tavien returns, he can assist in finding you new clothing.”

To reach my sleeping space, I must first walk through our private library. I look over my shoulder to find Leon watching me as I leave his sight.

Most shelves are packed with our personal libraries, but they overflow with a lifetime of collections and keepsakes of our adventures over the past century. It was once a detailed and organized space, but over the hundred years we have lived in the shared apartments in the west tower, it now holds countless trinkets—broken swords I keep meaning to repair, vases, wobbly floralteacups from our childhood tea parties we just can’t bear to throw away, shoes that fell out of fashion, a jewelry box made of the shells we collected over summers at the Shell Court’s seaside palace. It was lovingly named theroom of many things, as any attempts at organization failed us and we would spend the time revisiting the past, forgetting to finish cleaning it. It has a small bathing room in one corner for guests.

I drop my soiled travel clothes onto the rug of enchanted marigolds, the petals soft beneath my toes. We don’t have much time, but I tie up half of my hair with gem pins to hide the crown until I am before Nyvenah. I brush my lips and cheeks with crushed pigment the tint of ripe peaches.

In the smaller connecting room that doubles as both workspace and closet, I pull a fresh gown from the pinewood armoire.

I change into an off-the-shoulder, low-cut dress with two high slits in the front. Its gossamer sleeves almost touch the ground, a popular Ellovian fashion. The deep yellow material is made marginally more modest by sheer fabric panels hanging beneath the gaps, covering my legs. It’s a style far more revealing than what Leon is used to, and I smile, imagining his reaction.

A swirling gold belt I created a few decades ago completes the ensemble. I shuffle through the tangle of delicate metals in my ornate jewelry box and take out a gold bracelet.

I try the pull of my magic, sensing it separate from the ancient magic of the crown that is held within me. The crown’s magic feels like an ocean, while mine is a shell clinging to the sand, crushed by its waves. The pressure in my head builds again at my attempt to drag out even a speck of my magic. It weakly comes to me when I call, and as I gather it, I close my eyes, giving it all my focus.

My breath comes in uneven gasps at the sight of the unaffected metal. I beg the crown for my summons to yield any results on the cold chain. I’ve held on to a desperate hope that when I returned to Ellova, when I returned to all the magic held here, my powers would resurface.

This metal-wielding magic within me was the only thing I hadleft connecting me to my mother. Despair floods my aching chest when my attempt to manipulate the gold leaves me empty.

Just like in the forest, whatever power was in me that caused metal to mold and shape at my will, the force that gold and silver obeyed, is gone. The crown’s magic has truly suffocated my own.

It’s impossible to hide the growing panic in my voice as I call out, “Nueena!”

From outside the door, wooden legs slide hastily against a marble floor and Lillian’s harsh demand echoes: “Get back here!” A moment later, the door slams open and Leon darts in. He looks around and then at me, up and down. He opens his mouth, but Nueena is just behind him.

“What is it?” She gives him a questioning look before they both look at me.

“Leon—” I try to sound calm. “—thank you for your care, but I need to speak with Nueena.” After a moment I add, “Alone.”

He appears as if he wants to object, but reluctantly leaves with one long glance back, Nueena shutting the door behind him.

“My jewelsmith powers, metal magic, I can’t use it. It flickered out like a candle. I didn’t work when I was fighting Grayden’s guards either.” I hold up the chain of gold and focus on it. Nothing I do has any effect on the limp jewelry. “I keep trying, but it won’t…”

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