Page 65 of Crown of Ellova: Vol 1

I burst out laughing, and Leon looks at me with wondrous delight at the sound. He caresses me closer, resting my forehead in the curve of his neck, his long hair tickling my cheek.

I deeply inhale his scent—healing strawberry oil and herbs, the most wonderful scent in the world—taking lungfuls of it, not caring if he hears it, although by the chuckle vibrating through him, it does not go unnoticed.

“I love soft cheese over warm bread straight out of a stone oven with tea so hot it burns, no sugar. Just a splash of milk. As for the sea or the mountains, sea. I wish we were there now. Warm beaches, salty air, cool waters. Just you and me.”

His lips press into my temple with a delicate kiss. “That is good to know.” I can hold back no longer as I drag my nose along his neck, absorbing him, demanding more.

Lost in the warmth of his touch, I almost miss the feeling of something slithering up and around Leon’s arms. He notices at the same time I do, both of us pulling away, glancing down at his body. The vines, with their little plump strawberries dangling, make their way around him.

I turn so quickly I almost fall off the edge of the planter but Leon’s hands return to their home low on my hips to steady me.

Oh, please, do not be what I think you are.

A large strawberry plant has grown behind me and has slowly attached itself to Leon’s limbs. Not tightly, just moving at a leisurely pace, twisting around his ankles and arms.

“Hello,” he says to the plant currently trying to wrap itself around him, and reaches down to pull a plump, ruby-red strawberry off the vine. “Well, this is new.”

Biting into it, he closes his eyes and lets out a contented sigh as a bit of juice runs down his chin. Since his eyes are closed, he is surprised when I swipe the trickling juice with my finger. He watches as I bring it to my lips without thinking.

His eyes darken. “That, my dear Izadella, is a dangerous game.”

My cheeks must match the strawberry in his hand, given the heat of them, and I drop my gaze, trying to pull the vines off him so I can shove them back into the strawberry bush.

“I told you, Sunshine.”

We both turn to find Nueena and Tavien staring at us, our nearness, and the strawberry plant clinging to Leon. Nueena and Tavien wear identical, slightly concerned expressions. Continuing to form further attachment to Leon will only end in heartache; we all know it, but I can’t seem to stay away.

Leon stands and offers me his hands for assistance while I try toexplain, “Um, well, I think I grew strawberries, or the crown did, at least. Ignore it. What’s going on with Camarra?”

Nueena’s amusement dips at the Seed Keeper’s name. “A discussion for later. Our presence has been requested at Bardhana.”

We walk together to the northernmost part of the palace and out to a large courtyard laden with enormous trees. Leon watches the fae saunter in and out of the various portal trees, their large branches shading those who emerge from the archways carved within the bark.

Unlike the one we used in the forest with its ivy-hidden hollow, these trees’ arches are made of emerald and gold. Onyx steps lead up to the entrances. Nueena selects the largest tree and we follow her in. With one hand, we each take hold of the handrail that circles the interior and plant our feet for the short journey. The moment her palm touches the rough interior, the bark lights up, the tree accepting Nueena’s magic and propelling us forward as the light goes out.

My insides roll at the rumbling beneath us. Leon’s warm chest presses up against my back, and his hands find their place low on my waist, pulling me closer. His teasing thumb trails small circles on the side of my hip. I reach my free hand behind to cup his cheek for a brief touch; his stubble tickles before his head moves and follows with the softest press of his lip to my palm. The tree’s motions slow as we move away from our stolen moment.

Light pours in through the back archway as we turn around, stepping out. A cold breeze nips at us as we arrive on one side of an enormous mountain, snow lightly falling around us, the early-morning sun casting a torrent of color as it cascades off the opal and moonstone walls. Balconies and windows pepper the mountain’s face.

Its massive circular doors shimmer from the pale pink-and-white crystal that it’s made with. The etchings carved on the door tell the story of the creation of the fae realm, of Ellova: a celestialbeing grew tired of the heavens and came down, taking corporeal form to experience a new life, bringing with her wild magic, myths, and legends molded with long-lost truths of Ellova the goddess.

The doors to the Ink Court’s capital, Bardhana Library, open on their own, sensing our presence. Ink-gray banners hang on the quartz walls with the crest of the Ink Court embroidered in gold thread: a quill piercing a thick tome, surrounded by the moon phases.

Large balls of captured sunlight appear, swaying lazily above us. The hallway is filled with paintings preserved with magic so they are as vibrant as the day they were painted, despite having hung here for thousands of years. We pass by small shops, living spaces, and room after room filled with books and scrolls. Dozens of spiral staircases and ramps lead up to housing and dining halls.

Nueena and Tavien stroll hand in hand, discussing trade agreements in front of us. She waves to some dewlings dressed in small pastel scholar robes, who eagerly wave back before a teacher hurries them into one of the carved-out lesson rooms. Some of the residents and courtiers turn to look at our arrival, pausing on the steps or wishing Nueena well for the upcoming coronation.

Our journey is so deep into the mountain there are no windows, the space brightly lit with hundreds of the sunlight-filled crystals that hang all around us.

“How many fae live here?” Leon asks, staring into each one of the many small bright libraries we pass. Room after room of knowledge and history.

“A few hundred, but not all at once,” I explain. “There are Ink Court libraries all over the kingdom that most scribes travel to and from, depending on their research. Each court has a few hundred scribes that document what’s going on in all the courts. Not much happens here without it being documented. We take record keeping and education seriously, as you will see.”

I smile at him, but he’s not looking at me, his head twisting back and forth to try to take it all in. He has a slightly greedy look in his eyes, a starved man sitting at a buffet, desperate to devour the knowledge this library offers.

When Leon does turn his attention back to me, it is with a wistful half-smile. “My favorite place growing up was my family’s library. In the last row, on the top shelf, there is an old green book. If you pulled it, it led to a secret reading room. I loved to hide there, ignoring my brother’s and cousin’s insistence that I play outside with their friends.” Leon reflects on this sweet childhood memory with a slightly dreamy expression.

I turn, walking backward in front of him, brimming with excitement to show him the main library. With a ridiculous smile on my face, I ask him, “Are you ready?”

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