Page 57 of Iris of the Crowned Flame

Ethan had broken things off with Katelle during this time. She was incredibly upset at us for holding her father in the dungeons. I wish I could say I understood, and on some level I did, but I also couldn’t understand how she could support someone who intended to kill me, a 20-year-old woman just barely starting life. Sure, a future queen, but still, I’m not that much different from her, just born with a different lot in life. Katelle sought refuge at her mother’s estate to avoid the war. I was glad that she wasn’t a loose thread in the castle.

About two weeks before the wedding and coronation, we received a courier from Scoria Bay. He brought a letter to the gate, handed it to a guard, and ran off. The letter informed us that Scoria Bay knew about the wedding and was furious about not receiving an invitation. It seemed weird that they wanted to be invited when Egan left with such a threat. If we didn’t have the intelligence reports telling us they were building up for war, we would have questioned the sincerity of his threat. Father determined this letter was designed to have us let our guards down for that day, so he ordered the strongest security possible for the entire capital city. It meant that we would have troops moving to the coastal cities in the period where we typically had the heaviest snowfalls, but it seemed wise to help prevent any surprise attacks from stopping the event. Father also wanted us to solemnize the wedding and transfer power quietly prior to the event, but I didn’t like that idea, and Mina supported me in allowing the legalities to carry on the same day as we had planned.

The day of the wedding came, and I woke up long before the sun to prepare. I barely slept the night before. Amyra stayed with me that night, just as she had done nearly every night since they installed the warding spells. I had seen little of her since Mina showed up, other than when we slept next to each other. I ached for our days when we could just be together, giggling and sharing gossip about the various nobles staying in the castle and city. It felt like a lifetime ago. She had been almost as busy as me, working with the planners and learning more to control her magic. She could do some healing, which felt immensely fortuitous. Often, she would practice on me, healing my sore, aching body after grueling sessions with Mina. She worked often with Lettie, who was also a healer, to learn more about her gifts.

Amyra and Ivy were up and readying themselves for the day as I woke. They had my breakfast ready and informed me Eliza would be there shortly. I hurried through, eating what little I could and then moved to the bathing room to get ready. Once I was clean of any signs of Amyra and I spending thenight together, Ivy and Amyra sat me down at my vanity to prepare my hair. They had quite the challenge with my hairstyle today, as they couldn’t design it around a tiara. I would end the day with the official crown for the Queen of Elthas. They needed to design a hairstyle that could look stunning without hair accessories and under the crown. They chose well, using a series of braids that could then help fix the crown on my head when the time came. By the time they were done, my hair was covered in small braids that were pinned in diamond shapes, brought back to one larger braid down my back. They had left small bits to frame my face, which they curled using their fingers.

As they finished up, Eliza arrived with my dress. The dress was both my coronation dress and my wedding dress, so it was untraditional for both events, which felt so fitting for the change Mina promises I will bring.

As she pulled the dress out of the capsule, I felt floored once again by her ingenuity. She designed a perfect winter gown, woven from shimmering silver-blue fabric that catches the light like freshly fallen snow. The bodice is adorned with intricate embroidery of frost-kissed vines and delicate snowflakes, each stitched with glistening thread that mimics ice crystals. The off-the-shoulder sleeves are sheer, crafted from gossamer-thin fabric dusted with iridescent beads that resemble frozen dew. A dramatic, flowing cape of soft, translucent white tulle cascades from her shoulders, embroidered with a pattern that mimics frost creeping across glass. Tiny diamonds and pearls are scattered across the train, sparkling like icicles in the moonlight. The skirt is layered with delicate chiffon and velvet; the hem edged with a swirling pattern of icy filigree, as if winter’s breath had traced its mark along the fabric.

“Eliza…” I whispered as I stared at her creation. “You’ve outdone yourself once more.” I reached out to touch the dress. Eliza and Ivy helped me into it. After several minutes, I was finally facing my mirror and admiring the dress on me. It was then that Amyra came back into my sitting room from the bedroom. She was wearing her own dress, and it was so like mine. Where my coronation gown shimmered with regal opulence, hers was a softer reflection. It was no less breathtaking, but woven with understated elegance. The icy blue fabric hugged her frame, catching the light with a faint silver sheen, as if brushed by frost. Delicate embroidery traced the bodice in swirling patterns, subtle yet mesmerizing. Tiny pearl-like beads dusted the sheer, off-the-shoulder sleeves, glinting as she moved. The skirt flowed in layers of chiffon and velvet; the hem edged with an intricate frost pattern that mirrored my own. A soft, translucent cape draped from her shoulders, its edges scattered with crystals, like ice catching the light. In her dark hair, a silver hairpiece shaped like frost-laced vines rested in place—delicate yet unshakable.

She was beautiful. A quiet storm, standing at my side. As our eyes met, I knew I would never be alone in this.

I turned to Eliza, saying, “You didn’t have to do that!”

Tears threatened to fall.

“No, but she wanted to,” Ivy said. “She wanted you to know you will always have your love by your side, in all ways.”

Amyra walked over to me, grasping my hands. We stared into each other’s eyes; hers shimmering with magic; the color matching our gowns as if it was designed that way. “Wait, Eliza, did you match these to Amyra’s eyes?”

I broke the stare to look at Eliza as she nodded. I turned back to Amyra, and we giggled, and for a moment, I felt like we were our past selves, ready to gossip about who was coming to the event.

It was in that moment that I wanted Mother here most, and a gentle wave of grief washed through me, knowing that I was only here in this moment because we lost her. This day was going to be difficult, in so many ways.

Ivy got dressed in her gown, a darker teal shade that closely matched Amyra’s. The fitted bodice featured swirling silver embroidery, mirroring frost creeping over glass just as ours did. Off-the-shoulder sleeves draped in sheer fabric, dusted with tiny crystals that caught the light with every movement. The skirt cascaded in velvet and chiffon; its hem lined with delicateicy filigree. A matching silver hairpiece adorned her red curls, shaped like intertwining winter vines. She looked formidable, yet effortlessly elegant.

I was so impressed with how Eliza and her team pulled this off for us. They must’ve worked night and day to make these dresses look this stunning.

It was time for us to make our way to the temple. We planned to use underground tunnels to get there, both for safety reasons and to avoid revealing my appearance before the wedding ceremony. Courtiers walked with us through the tunnels, laying down long carpets just as we approached to keep our gowns clean from any of the dirt. Apparently, this was a tradition that the courtiers enjoyed doing for royal weddings. I tried to point out that I could take the dirt off when we arrived, but they insisted they be allowed this courtesy. I appreciated how they wanted to help make my day special and agreed.

We arrived at the room that hid us until the start of the ceremony. Shortly after, a knock sounded on the door. Ivy went to look and invited the person in. “Your Grace,” she greeted him. “Wait, is that right? Or do I wait until after the coronation? I’m so sorry.”

Father smiled, the first real smile I’d seen on his face since Mother died. “Technically, I’m still king until she completes the ceremony. But there is no worry for you, Lady Ivy. You’d have to face punishment from our future queen, and I suspect she has a soft spot for you.”

“You’re fine, Ivy, as always. But don’t go abusing that,” I teased.

Ivy curtsied after she shut the door.

“Lyla, you’re so perfectly you, a dress to suit both occasions, while snubbing them each at the same time. This suits you and suits the change you’ll bring us.”

Father crossed the room as he complimented me. We were face to face, father and daughter, old king and new queen. I smiled, tears threatening to spill, and asked. “Have you come to offer your words of advice?”

“Don’t get sick,” Father teased again, showing his side as my parent, not my advisor or ruler. The role I hadn’t really experienced from him in months. I giggled and reached to hug him.

“I just wish I could do this with Amyra, Father.” I whispered. “I know why it couldn’t be, but I wish it were different.”

“Lylabug, once you are queen, you can make it different. Let’s finish the war before we go making changes, but you can change the laws to allow you to openly embrace Amyra. If I make it through this war, I will help you make it happen.” Father pulled out of the hug before adding, “You will bring this kingdom exactly to where it needs to be.”

He stepped back and admired me again. “You were born for this. You will be my greatest gift to the world. I love you.”

The tears spilled down my face as I smiled at him. “I will be only the Queen you helped me to become.” I replied, dabbing at my face.

“Your Majesty, if I could just shoo you out of this room, so that Lyla doesn’t destroy her look before the wedding starts?” Ivy asked, moving back towards the door to open it for Father.

“Yes, yes, of course. I will see you out there, Lyla.” Father bowed to me as if he were my subject.

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