Chapter 40
LEON
The pillows move next to me, and I open my eyes to meet Izadella’s teary, warm brown ones staring back at me. The temple is dark around us but enough light from the dull light crystals allows me to see her.
“Leon?” Her confused voice is so soft.
“I’m right here. You’re safe.” My throat tightens at the last word. The staggering guilt I feel weighs heavy on me.
Izadella nods slowly, closing her eyes again. “Safe. With you.” She wiggles her body closer to me, sinking deeper into the bed. “Home.”
“How do you feel?” When she doesn’t respond, I hope she hasn’t gone back to sleep, but moments later her eyes flare open with panic.
“I died!” Izadella swiftly gets up on her knees, pawing at her shredded dress, rubbing both hands over smooth skin.
“I was dead, I died and then magic I've never felt before. Oh, Ellova’s grave. The crown is gone!” She clutches her bare head, running her fingers through her hair, her shoulders curling in with relief.
“It is,” I say calmly, sitting up and letting her process all of this.
“Where is the crown now?”
“It chose Nueena and is keyed to her now.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” She smiles softly but it fades just as fast. “And she’s okay?”
“Yes, she was able to control the magic. Quite the sight. A little terrifying, actually.”
She gapes at me, rubbing her temple. “You healed me?” Her fingers graze her chest, finding no scars. “You brought me back, didn’t you? I felt your hands on me.”
My responding smile wobbles a bit. “Of course I did. You do not get to leave this life without me, and we have much to live for. Tavien was right when he said I wouldn’t let something as trivial as death separate me from you.”
“Oh, Leon,” she whispers, her voice cracking slightly. My chest tightens at the sound, which for the moment is devoid of the rage I felt from her last night.
“Please, lie back.” I take her hand and guide her down into the bed.
“Where is Cyanna?”
“I’m sure she is safe. Lillian and Viella were there, too. They will probably take her back to Ellova ’til you return.”
She nods at that. Worry still shines in her eyes when she asks, “Are you all right?’’
“More than all right now that I have you back. Are you in pain?”
She shakes her head, leaning forward and touching our foreheads together. “No, just a little sore.”
Tension floods out of me and I crumple with relief that maybe not everything is lost between us.
“Are they dead, too?” she asks, not needing to say the bastards’ names.
“Yes, painfully so. Grayden with a sword and Everett by the crown. He put it on, and it killed him, turning him into a pile of dried leaves. I would have been impressed if I weren’t so terrified I had lost you.”
She is quiet while she stares at my head but finally asks in a small voice, “You are not wearing the crown. You could have taken it for yourself, for Kalvorn. Why didn’t you?”
“Because I could have lost my healing magic the moment I needed it most. The crown overshadowed your jewelsmith powers. There was no way for me to know if it would do the same to me. I couldn’t risk it.
The crown would have meant nothing if you had died in my arms.” I lightly run my fingers over her cheek, and she closes her eyes at the touch, leaning into my palm.
I expected her to move away, but she doesn’t. A seed of hope rises in my chest.
“Thank you. Are you going to tell me who you really are now?”
I laugh at her light tone, relieved to find no anger or betrayal in her voice, just a soft, patient question. “Well, I was King Zilas of Kalvorn, but now I’m just Leon. Well, Prince Leon.”
She opens her eyes; brows pinched in confusion. “And you are no longer king because…?”
My honesty is all I wish to give her now. Maybe if I lay everything down and beg at her feet, she can forgive me, understand what I did, why it was so important.
I focus on the only thing I care about right now: her.
“Izadella, I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time, since the moment I met you.
” She looks like she is about to say something, but I cut her off.
“I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn’t want you to ever doubt that my feelings were genuine and had nothing to do with the crown.
I am the descendant of Queen Inara and Prince Kalden Fasaile. ”
“Well, that explains the ring, but what about the crown?”
“Since it was Inara’s crown, my family tried to get it back many times with assassins and armies. My great-great-uncle got close but ultimately died trying.”
She moves to lay half of herself on my chest and gazes down at me. I take her other hand in mine, gently rubbing my thumb on her arm. Just this touch is healing the agony that dragged me down like an anchor these past few days.
I love her so fucking much.
“Such effort for an uncontrollable item.”
“We knew the power it had. My parents are both fae and they longed for the crown to be restored to us. Like in Adreania, the crown was slowly siphoning Kalvorn’s magic.
The main difference was that we had the Airvell River to replenish it, unlike Adreania.
The only thing we knew about the crown was that it was removable at the point of death for mortal kings.
So much of Adreania is laden with iron since Drystan grew paranoid over attacks from the fae to retrieve the crown, and iron is deadly to us.
I was chosen for the task because I was born with a rare gift.
The last fae to have healing magic as strong as I have, was Queen Arelia, Inara’s missing daughter.
I could heal and that could be its own weapon. ”
Her face softens. “What happened next?”
I press a kiss to her palm. “I was sent across the Elbasan Sea to Versairen and attended the best medical academies. When finished, I created an identity and built up an excellent reputation that got me recruited to the Iron Castle to serve Jedrick’s father.”
Her eyes widened. “So long ago.”
I chuckle. “Yes, but when I failed to get the crown from him, I left for long enough that no one would recognize me, and I went through the academy training once more before returning to Adreania, posing as the son of myself. I developed a reputation for my skill, combining real medicine with my magic to boost my successful treatments, and soon enough Jedrick summoned me to serve him as his healer. I feared Grayden did something to the previous healer, but I had no proof. I just wanted the crown so I could go home, and once Jedrick trusted me, I started poisoning him with everything I could think of.’’
Izadella jerks her head back, but she doesn’t reprimand or judge. “You were?”
“Yes, and I never felt bad about it either.”
“Thank you for killing Grayden,” she says in a tiny voice.
“I wish he weren’t dead so I could make his death so much more painful. I could’ve made it last for days with every conceivable horror. He deserves nothing less,” I growl, bitter remorse is a reminder that I wasn’t there to protect her. “I’m sorry—”
Her soft hands reach my face. She leans down, her lips finally back on mine. I close my eyes and give in to her. The anger bleeds out of me.
We stay like that for a while, passionate kisses turning into lazy, slow ones. My arms wrap around her waist, clinging to her, until she pulls away to let us breathe.
“What really happened the night I got the crown?” She gently slaps my bicep. “The truth this time.”