Page 6 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

Finally, I reach King’s Trove, where the shops dedicated to opulence and the greed of the wealthy line the streets. My shop sign,Arra’s Gems – Royal Jeweler, swings in the wind.

I cut through an alley that takes me to the back door of my empty little shop and the small living quarters attached. My key slides into the lock and I enter a dark room. The only sound is the echoing clank of swords hitting thigh armor as the Trove’s nightly guards patrol past my front door.

The shop was owned by my father’s family and sat empty for years until I started to sell my jewelry out of it to earn coins for Cyanna. I had tried to sell anonymously, away from the castle’s prying eyes, but ten years ago, King Jedrick heard that my jewelry shop was favored among the wealthy, and Arra, the mortal woman I pretended to be, was quickly given the title of Adreania’s Royal Jeweler. My attendance has been required for each full moon bazaar ever since.

Those who seek my jewelry know it can now only be bought at the King’s Bazaar.

I light a few candles, the fire-illuminated table set for an imaginary family. A few small jewelry tools lie around to give the illusion I work here if the shop is ever broken into. The stone walls of the shop’s living space are just as bare as the cabinets in the kitchen, the drawers in the bedroom empty of all evidence of life.

Three letters have been shoved under the door. The cream-colored envelopes bear just the name “Arra” in bold letters and the royal wax seal. My heart skips in my chest and I tear at the fine paper.

Lady Arra,

I hope this letter finds you and your family well. I would like to discuss something with you.

Is there a day that would suit you best? I can come by your shop, whenever you have a moment. Send a response with any kingdom guard and it will be delivered to me.

Yours,

Healer Leon

The first letter is dated almost a month ago, the day after we spoke at the last bazaar. I can think of nothing we would need to discuss but my heart skips a few beats. Leon must think I have ignored him this whole time. The two other letters request the same meeting.

Our only communication for the last two years has been in fleeting moments when he commissions yet another jewelry piece, ensuring more opportunities for us to speak month after month.

The thought of seeing him here, away from that castle, just thetwo of us, is thrilling. Alone. Free of demanding courtiers and watchful guards. For a few minutes, I could pretend he lives in this house with me. A warm sensation spreads within me and I savor it before pocketing the letters.

The sooner I can leave, the sooner Leon can explain what his letters are about.

CHAPTER 3

Itake out the wooden boxes from my satchel. Once the jewelry I brought has been arranged, I look for more hidden in the shop. Pulling up the floorboards in the small kitchen, I find rings and necklaces that did not sell last full moon. In the dirt of a flower pot, three necklaces are wrapped in cloth. Dozens of thin gold and silver bands jostle merrily as I remove them from the teapot on the stove.

All the trays slide into a small golden chest before being covered with purple velvet, ready to be taken to the Iron Castle. Stamped on each side is the crest of Adreania—a black circle that symbolizes the stolen fae crown with a sword going through it.

A familiar knock rattles the front door. I open the door before Theodore has finished knocking. He manages to pull back his hand before it connects with my face, a smile on his. I gave him a pendant for his wife once and have long since earned his crooked smiles. His shaggy gray hair flops forward as he bows at the waist. His companion guard mirrors the respect offered.

“Hello, Theodore, Clive, how are you?” I ask, knowing a response will not be given. All the guards are instructed to remain silent while in the presence of courtiers or royal merchants. The Adreania royals have laws that have deemed the guards “lesser”than me, so I should not attempt to make small talk with either of them.

Clive turns his wide back to me, head on a swivel, looking for danger. Four more castle guards are on horseback, holding long iron spears next to the carriage.

I could have easily walked to the castle but I have no illusions that the escort is for myself. The guards are here to ensure my jewelry is safe so the court can continue to drape themselves in gems and gold while they attend lavish parties on the backs of those who struggle most in the kingdom. My jewelry chest is loaded into the wide royal carriage with me, and we travel the main road leading to the castle.

Theodore and Clive sit in front of me on a wooden bench; outside we are surrounded by the other four guards on horseback, who ride around us in a diamond shape of protection.

Through the windows of the other passing carriages, curious eyes peer out at my carriage, shop owners returning from the coast or other merchants who found some sort of affluence in this broken city but not enough to be invited to the bazaar.

From deep within my bag, I retrieve a blue silk sash with the Adreania crest sewn on the front that marks me as one of the king’s personal craftswomen and courtiers.

It’s an honor not given to many and clashes with the green and gold of my gown. I despise that King Jedrick is even aware of my existence. As much as I long for a few moments with Leon, being in the presence of the stolen fae crown on Jedrick’s head boils my blood.

Every few feet we pass tall, hollow glass pillars. Long branches of slow-burning wood are bright within them, smoke swirling into the night sky while the flames light the way up the entrance of the castle. Thousands of candles hang from the windows, illuminating the tall spikes of its peaks, shadows moving behind them. The guards at the gate part to let us through the dark archway into the gardens. Theodore and Clive carry my chest and continue with me through the servants’ entrance leading to the courtyard.

The courtiers who have arrived stand near the gardens thatcircle the open area while they sip wine out of golden goblets. When they hear the soft jingle of the jewelry chest, they clear a path, greedy eyes tracking its route to the castle’s main entrance. The large wooden and iron doors remain closed for guests, but they open for me to stride in with my guards and shut again with a loud click.

A gust of wind follows us into the wide hall leading to the ballroom. We trail behind the somber servants carrying heavy trays, who walk swiftly past the gray walls lined with paintings of the royal family of Adreania.

The largest painting is that of King Jedrick’s ancestor, King Drystan. Drystan is painted alone, the black crown atop his head, his hands gloved in leather. The first king of Adreania and the first crown thief. No paintings remain of Queen Inara, the wife he killed, whose fae blood stained his hands until his death. Whichever artist had been tasked to bring his likeness to canvas captured the coldness in his gray eyes. The same gray eyes King Jedrick and Prince Grayden share.

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