Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
K ole and his co-captain, Everett, join us, both dressed in the deep blue and seafoam green of their Court of Shells sea sentinel uniforms. They have been best friends for almost as long as Nueena and I have. The four of us attended schooling together at the Ink Court. Kole’s sandy blond hair is pushed back, while Everett’s light brown strands are windswept. They’re both smiling, but Everett’s is the only one that reaches his blue eyes.
Everett, whom I actually like, is taller than Kole, handsome with boyish good looks, and no matter how much time he spends under the sun on the high seas, his skin stays fair. The sapphire-studded sword I made him years ago still hangs on his hip. “Della!” he exclaims happily.
“You’re back!” I say, greeting Everett warmly as I step into his embrace; he smells like ocean salt and bergamot. His lips press quickly to my cheek before he steps away to hug the others.
Everett and I have been friends for a long time but I will forever question his friendship with Kole.
“I’m on shore duty ’til the coronation is over to spend time with my mother. Since my little accident, she wishes me to stay as close as possible, so I’ll be around the palace. If she could attach me to her in some fashion, I fear she would.” He lets out a little laugh at his overbearing mother. “I’ll join you all for dinner sometime this week.” He eyes Leon, and Nueena and I share a quick glance at the mention of his mother, Camarra, the Guardian of the Court of Green.
“I wouldn’t say getting thrown overboard on a training expedition and going missing for a few days in the middle of winter is a ‘little accident,’” Nunea says sympathetically. “Your poor mother, no wonder she’s eager to have you near.”
“I’m fine; I’m fine. The water wasn’t that cold.” Everett winks at me in a friendly manner but I know he is playing it off. We were all desperately worried for him.
“This is Leon. He is also here for the coronation,” I say, watching Leon coldly shake the sea sentinel’s hands.
“I’ll be here too. Couldn’t let him have all the fun.” Kole laughs at his own joke.
Hiliyah rolls her eyes.
Kole opens his mouth again, but Everett cuts him off. “Della, I finished the book you lent me. It was an entertaining read on a long ship ride. I’ll bring back your copy before I set sail again.”
“I have the next one if you wish to continue the series. Stop by the west tower when you can,” I say, ignoring Leon’s fixed gaze on me when I mention my rooms.
Kole ignores our conversation, butting in without remorse. “I was scheduled for another journey, but I requested to continue my work at the palace and will be home for Nueena’s celebration. What shade of blue will we be wearing together?” he asks in this cocky tone that implies my answer doesn’t matter much.
“Well,” I say in clear mock politeness, “you can wear whatever blue you like, but we won’t be sharing shades.” Sharing shades, a type of claiming through fashion, was one way to show other dancers you are spoken for. Formalwear cut from the same fabrics.
Everett laughs and mumbles to him, “Told you.”
Kole ignores him. “Surely you can’t attend Nueena’s ball alone. Who will you dance with if we don’t go together?” He laughs a little at the thought .
I shrug. “Well, Nueena will be busy, but Tavien is always up for a spin around the dance floor. He is an excellent dancer and never minds when I step on his toes.”
Kole is unamused at that, but his cocky grin is quick to return. “But of course, you will save me a few dances. Last time you disappeared before I could find you, or if dancing isn’t on the table, we can find a few dark alcoves during the revelry to entertain ourselves…”
Kole smiles at me with what I’m sure he believes is a charming grin and moves a bit closer, his black pepper and patchouli scent overwhelming, but stops to look over my shoulder. Leon slides behind me, pressing into my back, and a firm hand is placed just above my full hips. Everett’s smile slides off his face as Leon's fingers press into my waist.
Leon ignores Kole completely and gazes down at me with open adoration. “I’m ready to go back to our rooms when you are.” We stare at each other for a long moment; his protectiveness is an electric sensation passing between us. He pulls me closer, a possessive edge to his touch.
I nod. “Um, yes, we should go.” I’m uncomfortable with the way Kole is looking at both of us, so I attempt to be kind. “That color you have on now looks nice. You should wear that to the ball.”
“Is it the color you will be wearing?” he asks with a wicked smile that Leon quickly wipes from his face.
“No,” Leon says flatly, “she will be wearing green with me.”
All of us turn to stare at him. Kole is momentarily silenced before he looks down with narrow eyes at Leon’s hand on my hip and says, “We shall see.”
Everett takes all this in before he gives Kole a friendly shove, pushing him towards the exit. “I’ll see you later,” Everett calls behind him and as the door is about to close, I hear an angry “Just let it go!” The door slams behind Kole, rattling the glass.
“I’m going to make him the ugliest tunic possible,” Hiliyah declares.
I close my eyes and sit on a cushioned stool. A headache stabs the back of my head, and I sway a little. The crown’s magic thrums painfully. The sound of motion and a wisp of air in front of me lets me know someone has bent down to my level. I open my eyes, unsurprised to find a fretting Leon.
“What a delightful gentleman. I do not understand why he is not attached,” Leon says with a scowl.
When I don’t laugh, Hiliyah clasps her hands together with apprehension. “I knew that would shut him up. I won’t make you share shades if you don’t wish for it.”
“Thank you. That will not be necessary.” The act of matching formal clothing is a treasured part of our culture and should not be tossed about lightly. Once Leon completes the elixir, he will leave here with it to help the mortals in their recovery, and I will be left alone again. Sharing shades will only give each of us false hope of what this means and send the message we have a formal attachment to anyone who sees us together. That is, if the magic hasn’t driven him into madness by that time.
Leon’s gaze is intent on me, but I refuse to meet his eyes as I stand and walk to the counter with Hiliyah and Nueena. I lay a long piece of satin down and place the contents of my bag on it. “He will need at least five of everything; a new travel cloak, brown; and two sets of boots. One outfit fit for any royal activities he may attend with us.”
Hiliyah looks Leon up and down before selecting items for her trade: ruby hoop earrings, a large jade ring, a gold watch enchanted to never be wrong, and a diamond-studded nose jewel. “I will have his new clothing delivered in the morning.”
“I’m going to command the entire Ellovian army soon,” Nueena says. “Say the word and I can have Lillian station Kole on seawall duty on the ice coast.”
It’s impossible to hide my smile at the visual of the handsome Kole freezing, his perfectly combed blond hair and frostbitten pointed ears sticking out from a massive white fur coat, shaking with rage at his new assignment. “As truly amusing as that would be, it won’t be necessary. Besides, let’s not have your first act as ruler to be reassigning one of your best captains for my benefit. You might appear to be playing favorites. ”
The three of us look at each other before bursting into laughter.
“Would you like Tavien to duel him?” Nueena’s suggestion only makes us laugh harder, the sounds carrying throughout the shop.
While Tavien is much taller and stronger and a skilled swordsman, the only time I’ve ever seen him ready to duel anyone was when finding an essential history text that someone had spilled a goblet of wine on and abandoned in one of the royal libraries.
“You know,” I remind her, “I don’t need your commander or Zemra to fight my battles for me. I can handle it. With a sword I forged myself, I might add.” I send her an unamused look in an attempt to appear annoyed, but we all end up laughing again.
“I know, I know. I’m just saying you don’t have to deal with him alone.” Nueena’s sweet offer is genuine. “Obviously not Kole, but perhaps it would be nice for you to take someone special to my coronation ball. You have never shared shades before.” There is a hopefulness to her question as her gaze slides to Leon, who stands across the room, his eyes on me.
I avoid his stare and instead watch a cluster of white flowers bloom on the hem of a lilac gown a fae woman is trying on. “Kole is harmless, just persistent and oblivious.”
Well, mostly he is.
I hope he is.
Kole’s attempts at courting me have never been genuine, never seeking a mating bond. Metal-wielding is rare to be sure, but my powers are weak and comes with a shortened lifespan, not highly sought-after traits for a partner in a place where the most powerful fae women and life-givers are courted first.
He wants what he can’t have after my many refusals. The captain has spent the past fifty years undeterred by my rejections and seems to forget the fact he would live long after the painfully mortal part of me wins out against my fae side, my life flickering out before he would even see mid-life.
Or perhaps that is part of my appeal.
W e leave the market, busy vendors shout last-minute deals for goods they wish to barter for before heading home. Dewlings squeal delightedly as they play a game in the streets while parents close the doors to some shops, the sky behind them brushed with bright orange and budding purples. Worry and confusion are my constant companions on the short journey.
We are halfway back to the palace when I realize I don’t know where Leon is sleeping tonight, and it surprises me how badly I want it to be in my bed, my stomach filling with flutters at the thought.
After the rainy balcony garden confessions and the intimacy of sharing my bed last night, will that continue to be an expectation? Does he want that? A calmness wraps around me at the thought of Leon and me together, no matter the form it takes. I attempt to shove down those feelings. Any attachment we form will only bring pain when we part, but the memories of the midnight moments in his arms send a wave of warmth through my chest.
Leon is deep in conversation with Tavien, but he looks over at me every few minutes of my melancholy. Every glance is a reminder that a war rages inside me. To enjoy every moment no matter how fleeting, contrasting with the crushing urge to push him away and save myself centuries of heartache.
Nueena solves my problem of deciding where Leon is sleeping. She had a bed brought up and placed in the library adjoining my rooms; a tower attendant arrived while we were gone to set it up.
Tavien explains the wards to Leon. “You have full access to the library at night, but for any other rooms here, you will need one of us with you, and that includes the entrance and Del’s rooms. Avoid unnecessary conversations with the palace attendants or anyone who might notice you are mortal. One of us should be with you at all times unless you are here.”
Leon nods. “I will not give Izadella a moment of peace with my presence.” He says it in jest but I wonder if he has any idea how true that is .
We say our good nights to Nueena and Tavien, and Leon follows me into the library. The bed has been placed as close as possible to my door, and with mine just on the other side, it means there will only be a small wall between us tonight. He follows me as I show him around the space and point out what books he might find interesting that are in a language he can read. The way he watches me pours heat into my veins and I see a vision of us tangled in my sheets, the library bed forgotten as his body encompasses mine under the stars.
A large sapphire necklace set in silver lies haphazardly over a stack of unread books. “Did you make this?” he asks, still looking at my creation.
“I did.”
“Do you like being a part of the Gem Court?” He traces the gemstones.
I nod. “I did until this new addition to my head. I loved working alongside so many talented artisans and makers. They never cared that I was only half-fae; it was all about my work. Not every court is as welcoming, but some place more loyalty to their court than Ellova. If it gets out that I kept this from them, it will be seen as a betrayal.”
“No one will find out,” he says with a confidence that makes me want to believe it.
“I hope so. Good night, Leon.” I make it two steps towards my door before he asks another question.
“If I lived here, what court would I be in?”
The image of him in healer robes, the Ink Court crest on his broad chest, is a beautiful picture, so I humor him. “Healers are part of the Ink Court. It’s the court of educators, scholars, scribes, and healing.” He would fit so perfectly there, his talents needed.
“I know Nyvenah said any loyalty I have, any vow I made, no longer matters here, but I meant what I said. If you are planning on staying here, then so am I. How does one join the Ink Court?”
I stare at him, perplexed. “I’m sorry. Courts are an entirely fae tradition. Leon, staying here isn’t an option. We have gone over this. The magic will drive you to madness. I’ve seen it happen. ”
He moves close to me. “Did something similar happen to your father?”
I suck in a breath. “Something like that, but this is a completely different situation. Nothing is the same. It’s been quite a day; we should get some rest.” Not wishing to discuss my family further, I head into my rooms.
Leon trails behind me and leans against the door frame. “May I?”
A tiredness I can feel in my bones makes me hesitate. There is an intimacy to him even standing outside my bedroom, but whatever is deep within me that craves his nearness is the part of me that nods, lowering the protective wards, allowing him access. Leon enters at a leisurely pace, eyes roaming the gilded frames holding portraits and landscapes of Ellova, gowns thrown over the plush purple chair in the corner, and a sword that leans against the window.
His presence fills the space, and I cannot look away.
The bed is seated in the middle of four trees coming up from the floor, sheer drapings so light the pale amber is almost white hanging from the branches. A long work desk is a tangle of controlled chaos: bowls of materials to make jewelry with, quills, abandoned teacups, a dagger with its entire handle covered in gemstones.
He picks up the bottle of perfume I wear every day and brings it to his nose. “Floral, with something citrus underneath. Roses and geranium? With a hint of what I would guess is lemons.” He breathes it in again. “Definitely a summer lemon.”??
“Impressive. A man who knows his scents.”
He places the bottle back on the desk with care. “Jedrick was a late sleeper, and I enjoyed tending to my medical garden in the misty mornings, the one we met in. I have roses and geranium planted there too.”
My heart skips a beat. When I was in that garden in the Iron Castle, I saw those flowers. “Is that right?”
He picks up the dagger on my desk and finds it perfectly balanced before setting it back down. “Oh, yes, I planted them almost two years ago. Geranium leaves can be used as a pain reliever when placed in teas, and rose oil is good for the skin.” He turns and walks over with soft eyes to where I lean against one of the bed trees. “The scent also reminded me of you. One night a month never seemed like enough.”
His intense green eyes search my face. I marvel at his perfect nose and strong jaw, the dark shadow of stubble a little longer than yesterday. His black hair, dusted with salt-and-pepper streaks, is loose and calls me to brush my hand through it.
It would be so easy to bring him down for a kiss and drag him down to my bed, to pull him completely into my life.
As if he can hear my racing heart and knows my thoughts, his eyes go to my lips. I know he is waiting for me to bring them to him, but his ears stop me. The roundness to the tip reminds me of the shortness of his life compared to mine, the risk to his sanity, and the crushing weight of the knowledge that loving him only for him to die is something I may never recover from.
If I survive this crown at all.
Fae die from broken hearts; their magic decays within their chest. We call it an enervation death. It’s rare and incurable. White scars like lightning strikes appear across their skin as a marking of the magic’s corruption. Eventually, their hearts simply stop beating. So instead of kissing him I ask, “How are you feeling?”
He breaks our eye contact by looking upward in an internal evaluation. “Worried about you, full from that delicious dinner, and restless from the past two days. Why do you ask?”
“Just worried for your well-being. Please tell me if you start to feel anything strange, all right?”
“And then what?” he asks carefully.
“What do you mean?”
?“Say I feel the magic pushing me out or driving me to insanity. What then?’’ He looks down at me again with pinched brows. His eyes roam mine, searching for something.
Not wanting him to find what he’s looking for, the longing, the fear, I cross my arms and look down at my bracelet, inspecting it for nonexistent flaws. “I would make sure you are returned safely. You went to school in Versairen and you said it was safe. Maybe there’s still a place for you there to teach. Or perhaps your childhood home, where you wanted to send me? You could go there even if Cyanna is there, right?” My heart aches at the reminder that he was trying to protect me before all of this started. When I was just someone he saw once a month for a few brief, stolen moments, someone who spent years lying to him, and yet he is here.
“And you will stay in Ellova, even after the elixir is made?” I want the smile he wore in the market again. Now he stares at me, slightly dejected, when I finally look back up at him.
“Yes. I have the crown, and Nyvenah needs to figure out some details, and Nueena’s coronation is in a month. I need to be there for her while she transitions. Even if Grayden is removed, I imagine Nueena would want me to be safely here while in possession of Inara’s crown.”
His jaw tightens slightly at this. “Some things can’t be rushed. Why is she taking over anyway? Why now? Nyvenah seems healthy and able to continue ruling for many years to come.”
I shake my head. “Nueena’s magic is about to surpass her mother’s. The throne belongs to whoever possesses the most magic. She will be the youngest Realm Keeper ever. By hundreds of years.”
“What type of magic does she have?”
Sighing, I put up my hands. “Look, we are—” I stumble over the words, realizing I have no idea how to describe him. What do you call someone you have years of feelings for with only brief monthly conversations and now bonded together by a life-changing moment? I do not have such a word, so I go with what I would like us to be. “—friends, and I want you to understand my home, but you are still an outsider here and there are things I can’t share with you.”
With earnest remorse, he says, “Of course, of course.” He shakes his head. “Forgive me? I’m sorry, this is all so…new. So we are friends, then?’’ A small, playful smile emerges, and I can’t help but mirror his expression.
“Well, yes, of course. We have known each other for years, shared a traumatic experience, and both love blackberry wine. That’s the foundation for all good friendships.”
He takes a step closer. “What if I desire to be more than friends?” That herb and strawberry scent invades my space.
I want to step into him and run my nose over his neck, inhaling that tantalizing smell.
“Ummm…” I ball my hands into fists, forcing myself to stand still and not act on my wanton desires. His eyes leave mine for a moment, noting my clenched fists in my gown.
He takes an impressive step back, straightening his spine, and places his arms behind his back, looking very regal. Mistaking my hesitation for disinterest, he says, “My apologies, Izadella. I probably shouldn’t have asked. I had hoped I made my feelings obvious at the bazaar, as poorly timed as it was.” His smile is strained.
I take a step closer and he mirrors me, shoulders relaxing. “Yes, yes, you did, abundantly so, but so much has happened since then. This has all been overwhelming and I’m terrified of what it will mean if the crown cannot be removed. Your lifespan is so much shorter than mine and what I feel for you already scares me. This crown declares unwanted monarchy so I now have a whole kingdom on the brink of starvation to be responsible for and war with Kalvorn on the horizon and I’m sor?—”
He presses a finger to my lips, and his gentle touch pauses all my fears from spilling out of me. “I understand, Izadella. It’s all right. I regret asking. I just never thought we would end up here, together. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again after that night, and I’ve been distressingly infatuated with you since the first midnight we met, but I’m happy to give you time, if that’s what you need.”
“Time is something we don’t have, I’m afraid,” I whisper, but I lose the internal battle to not touch him and move towards him. His arms open with no hesitation, wrapping around me and pulling me close. I lean my head on his chest, sighing deeply and stealing his comforting scent.
“Thank you,’’ he whispers into my hair with a soft press of his lips .
His warmth, his comfort, his scent. I could get drunk on it all.
“For what?” I ask, my hands digging into the muscles of his back.
“For sharing whatever time we do have. For not running off in the middle of the night when we were sharing a bed in your cottage.” There is a deeper press of his lips into my coppery waves, and I close my eyes, memorizing the feel of it. “For trusting me with your secrets. We do not have to have it all figured out tonight. One day at a time.”
I pull back to look up at him.
An urge rises to weep at him that once I get this crown off me, he will be dead in forty years and I’ll just keep living and living and living. To wail that he needs to stop looking at me with such longing, hopeful eyes and saying words like that with warmth and kindness. His shy smile does something to the inside of my chest and the world fades a little when he laughs, but the words don’t come. I lower my arms and reluctantly take a step back from him.
Too much of a coward to push him away.
Too weak to resist the hope that loving him might be worth the pain in the end.
“I’ll let you sleep,” I whisper, even if it’s the last thing I wish for.
He nods slowly and returns to the other room. I hear the rustle of his sheets and I slide into mine, alone and aching. Thoughts of my own looming death are my only company.