Golden Crown

by M. Lynn

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

  Her fingers fidgeted in her lap as she bit her lip nervously. “Look, I still don’t… like magic. It scares me, okay? It’s unnatural and when someone has too much of it, well we’ve all seen what can happen. Just look at La Dame. We have no chance should she march on us. But, I don’t think magic folk should be persecuted. I-I didn’t know. I grew up at father’s side. I honestly thought he couldn’t do any wrong, but he did. Everything he did was so very wrong. I see that now. But Alexandre, you’ve been trying to fix a country that can’t be fixed—not while La Dame is on our doorstep. And definitely not while our king is in love with Persinette Basile.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve seen what she did to our gates. Can you honestly say you don’t fear the day she turns on us?”

  “She won’t—”

  “Alexandre, we know nothing about her power. I see nothing of the Etta you knew in her.”

  “She saved my life.”

  “And son, we will be eternally grateful for that.” His mother took his hand again and this time he didn’t pull away. “But maybe your sister is right. She’s no longer our Etta. She’s the queen of a kingdom that was once our greatest enemy.”

  Alex jerked his hand back and stood. “You didn’t see her today. The way she saved her people from the mob in the villages.”

  “Her people, Alexandre.” Camille stared up at him imploringly. “She had to save her people from yours. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about the new circumstances, I’m not sure what will.”

  His eyes shifted from his sister to his mother to the curiously quiet duchess before marching from the room. After closing the door behind him, he released a breath, not sparing a glance for the guards waiting for him. His mind whirled in chaos.

  The worst part was he knew they weren’t wrong. Gaule would never accept magic. They may never even accept him. And without magic, they couldn’t face La Dame.

  He had to keep his kingdom safe, no matter the cost.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Etta led Vérité into the pen outside the stables and removed his saddle. She walked toward the shelter to hang it, enjoying a temporary reprieve from the dampness outside as she walked the length of the dry stables.

  Three horses entered the stables at the opposite end. Catrine rode between two of her guards. She slid down gracefully, not needing or wanting the help of her men. After handing the reins of her horse off to a stable lad, she turned as if she’d known Etta was there all along.

  “Queen Persinette.” Catrine dipped her head formally.

  Etta hated the distance between them. Once, she’d been trusted by the queen mother. But that was before the magic took hold of her and Bela rejoined the world.

  “Queen mother.” Making a quick decision, Etta turned on her heel and walked back to where she’d left Vérité eating from a trough. To her surprise, Catrine followed her into the muddy corral, not even bothering to lift the ends of her thick green skirt.

  Etta released a sigh and turned to meet her gaze. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?” She imagined what all Gauleans thought of her and the desire to protect her people within their borders. But as she looked at Catrine, she saw the same burning intensity in her gaze. This was a woman who’d stand for her kingdom until she couldn’t any longer.

  And Etta suddenly didn’t want to be looking at the queen mother anymore. She wanted to see the woman her father must have seen.

  “Were you and my mother true friends?” Etta’s shoulders tensed, waiting for an answer.

  Catrine nodded, sadness etched across her face. “She was the greatest friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Then how-”

  “How could I love her husband?” Emotions warred in the queen’s eyes. “Back then, things were very different for us. My husband was the king, but he was not a good man. He left the palace for months at a time with Viktor at his side. I led Gaule during those years. He made war on the magic folk. It was his one accomplishment. The purge. But the kingdom survived the years of isolation we experienced while the wards were in place because of me and my advisors.”

  “That tells me nothing of my mother.” Etta began to turn away.

  “No,” Catrine agreed. “But it tells you something of me. I know what you must think of me… of your father.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “Yes,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “But I wasn’t in love with him. I also loved your mother. Our relationship was… complicated. When we conceived Ty, your mother had left the palace.”

  “Left?”

  “She never understood why Viktor insisted on serving a cruel king.”

  Etta gripped Vérité’s mane. “He never told her of the curse…” She lifted her eyes. “But why? Did my healing powers come from her?” She had to know. Was she the daughter of a Draconian?

  Catrine’s eyes pinched in sadness. “No, dear. The healing powers are yet another gift from your father’s line. Your mother was… well, she had no magic.”

  Etta stumbled back. Her mother… didn’t have magic? She wasn’t a Belaen?

  As if sensing her questions, Catrine continued. “Your mother was from a kingdom across the great sea called Cana.”

  Cana. She’d never even heard of it. Her father… why hadn’t he told her any of this?

  “I have to go.” She hauled herself onto the horse without bothering to saddle him once again.

  “Etta, wait.” Catrine stepped forward tentatively. “I never thanked you for saving Alexandre.”

  Etta nudged Vérité around. “Don’t. I don’t want this. The Draconian magic. The Basile power. It’s going to destroy us all.”

  She kicked the horse and veered out of the pen, winding her way through the outer palace until she reached the gates she’d blown to pieces. Beyond them, the land opened up.

  Her magic burned within her and the control slipped away. If she unleashed it inside the castle, the whole thing would come down.

  Today was further proof. Even the villages closest to the king weren’t safe for her people. She had to get them out of Gaule once and for all.

  She let the anger bubble to the surface and explode from her hands, swinging them in an arc over her head, shredding the grass surrounding her.

  Rain pelted her hair, sizzling on her skin where it met the magic.

  Her mother left her father because of the curse and Etta hadn’t known. But she’d come back. That was what mattered, right? Not the fact that she had no power. She’d loved Etta. At least, Etta wanted to believe she had.

  She jumped down and left Vérité at a safe distance. She broke into a run, pumping her legs, the wind whipping water in her face. Adrenaline rushed through her as she jumped and released a bit of magic, pushing her farther than humanly possible. She landed in a roll and popped back up. Light flashed from her hands, illuminating the sky as if lightning cracked it open.

  A grin stretched across her face, fueled by a need for more. More power. More life. Another way to forget who she was and where she’d come from.

  “Etta!” someone called in a faraway voice.

  She bent, ready to release the next wave when suddenly the rain stopped hitting her. Snapping out of her trance, she glanced up to see the water bending around her. She whipped her head around, her soaking braid slapping her in the face.

  Tyson waited for her, hands on hips, next to Vérité.

  Her control continued to slip.

  “Leave,” she yelled. He didn’t understand the danger. She couldn’t hold it back. At least Edmund was aware what he was getting into when he practiced with her.

  Then another horse appeared. Tyson said something over his shoulder and when Alex appeared, shaking wet hair out of his face, Etta’s control returned with such force she stumbled back.

  Confusion warred within her but she shook it off and scanned the land surrounding her. It looked as if a cyclone had come through.


  Alex’s eyes widened as he regarded her and she wanted more than anything to see inside his mind.

  “We need to talk,” he said finally. “Ruler to ruler.”

  She nodded once and crossed the field to where she’d left Vérité.

  Once they arrived back in Alex’s rooms, there was a moment when all she wanted was to touch him, feel him, to let him wash away every emotion inside her. They hadn’t gotten close since the night she healed him. It was as if a barrier stood between them now.

  Two barriers actually and they were called crowns.

  They entered the room and Alex’s guards took up their positions outside. She was thankful no one made her have guards following her back in Bela. She was more powerful than any guard could be so there was no point.

  Edmund was waiting for them and Tyson shut the door. It was just the four of them once again. So much had happened to each of them and yet here they were.

  Etta slumped down in a chair near the fire, exhaustion tugging at her after the long day. Alex walked behind her, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze before taking a seat. She closed her eyes at his touch.

  She opened them as Alex began to speak. “I need to protect my people.”

  She nodded. “I do too and that means returning to Bela as soon as I can.”

  He swallowed hard and leaned forward to put his head in his hands. “How do I protect a people who won’t let me? How do I keep the most powerful woman in the world from crossing our borders? How do I force them to accept magic when it strikes such fear in them?”

  Etta moved off her chair to take the place beside Alex. Her hand hovered over his arm for a moment of hesitation before she touched him. “I don’t know.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d felt completely lost. La Dame was coming for her people as well, but at least they had their magic. And they had her.

  Bela was being built up while Gaule crumbled into dust.

  Her magic jumped at the thought, yearning for its vengeance. But Gaule was no longer their enemy. She held down the simmering power.

  The fire reflected in Tyson’s eyes as he regarded them all. “I think I know how to keep Gaule safe.”

  Alex drew his brows together and Etta held her breath. She didn’t like the look on her brother’s face.

  “Spit it out, Ty,” Edmund said.

  Tyson moved toward Etta swiftly and knelt down in front of her. “Etta, you have the Basile power.”

  “I am aware,” she replied.

  “No, I mean you have all of the Basiles’ power. Isn’t that how it works? All the magic that has existed in our family line is now in you.” His eyes burned into Etta. “O-our… father.”

  Understanding slammed into her and she shrank back. Yes. It was so simple. If she could do it, Gaule would be protected. They wouldn’t be driven to the slaughter. There wasn’t anything she could do to keep what was coming from touching her own people, but…

  “What am I missing?” Edmund asked.

  Alex knew. She saw it in his eyes. The moment when he realized saving his people meant losing her.

  She’d come to the conclusion a long time ago that those who loved her would always be taken from her. It had been part of her life since the night her mother died.

  Alex, the boy who was used to having what he wanted, had never tasted loss like this.

  If she did what Tyson was saying, that was it. The end.

  But all she’d ever had were endings.

  Alex’s entire body shuddered as he looked at each of them in turn. It wasn’t only her he’d lose. It was all of them.

  He cleared his throat. “The wards. Etta may be able to restore her father’s wards.”

  “No.” Edmund shook his head. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” He met Etta’s gaze. “You’re really considering this?”

  “I don’t know what else to do.” The words burst out of her and she jumped from the couch to pace the room. “Really, Edmund, what the hell do you want from me?”

  “Do you even realize what these wards mean?” he asked.

  “Of course I do. My father created the original ones.”

  “You were a child living in the forest. Alex and I were riding out to border villages with his father’s soldiers. We saw what the wards did to magic folk who tried to cross.”

  She put her hands on her head, spinning around to face him. “I’m out of ideas.” Red crept up her neck as she tried to hold back the anger her magic had burning within her.

  Edmund crossed the distance between them and grabbed her arms. “Hey, calm down. Breathe.” He breathed deeply as if to demonstrate and she closed her eyes. “Etta, control it. Don’t let it take over.”

  She focused on his hands folded around hers. On the sounds of his breath. The magic shrank back, and she opened her eyes to look into Edmund’s face. He’d done that for her more times than she could count.

  Alex and Tyson watched them silently, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and shock.

  “Are you…” Tyson began. “Are you okay?”

  Etta collapsed back onto the couch. What was she supposed to tell them? No, she wasn’t okay. She walked around constantly on the verge of exploding.

  Alex scooted closer and put an arm around her. She sank into his side, the calm beat of his heart calming her frantic one. “Did I scare you?”

  Both Alex and Tyson shook their heads emphatically.

  Edmund laughed. “Of course you did.”

  Three sets of eyes shot daggers his way, and he put up his hands in defense.

  Ignoring Edmund, Alex asked the question they should have begun with. “How do we know La Dame wouldn’t be able to find a way through the wards?”

  Etta lifted her head to look up at him. “She never broke my father’s wards, and he didn’t have the strength of the Basile power. We have to at least try.”

  He sighed, his breath ruffling her hair. “I know.”

  Edmund slumped in defeat and Tyson picked himself up off the floor.

  Etta pulled herself away from Alex’s warmth. “I need some dry clothes and a drink. Have your people make preparations. Send riders to every village with notices that all magic folk planning to leave for Bela must do so within a fortnight.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

  “I know. I hate it as much as you. We’re forcing all magic folk from Gaule. I never wanted it to come to this.”

  “They’re safer in Bela.”

  He gripped her hand. “That doesn’t make it right.”

  She ran her fingers along his cheek. “But at least they’ll be alive. And Gaule will be safe.”

  She returned to her rooms and changed out of her sopping clothes, setting them to dry by the fire.

  A platter of food had been left with an overgenerous pitcher of wine. She poured herself a drink and sighed before sitting in the large wing-backed chair next to her own roaring fire, trying to feel more than she did.

  She still loved Alex. That hadn’t changed just because of the magic. But the love was clouded in doubt and duty. Nothing was clear to her anymore. It was as if her heart loved him, but her head was incapable.

  Would she ever be able to be more than the power inside of her?

  It latched on to everything she was, twisting it and hardening it.

  She drained her wine and rose to fill the cup again.

  After a while, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Alex. Before letting the doubts and coldness fill her, she set her cup down and kissed him.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

  She didn’t have any words for him so she pulled him back to her and walked backward into the room.

  “I love you.” His voice vibrated against her lips.

  She pushed away from him violently without meaning to. Her body betrayed her, giving itself over to the magic brewing inside.

  “No more talking,” she said roughly. “Not tonight.”

 
; He grabbed her wrist to keep her from walking away from him and she rushed forward, slamming him against the closed door, wanting to destroy him the way the magic destroyed her.

  He didn’t recoil in fear as she expected. That, she could have lived with. He’d have been right to be frightened. But instead, heat blazed in his eyes. His strong hands wrapped around her upper arms and he yanked her against him.

  They crashed back against the door once more before he spun and pressed her up against the solid wood.

  “Let it out,” he said. “I can take it.”

  He didn’t know what he was asking. If she unleashed everything she was feeling… no, he couldn’t take that.

  “You’re not strong enough for that.” It wasn’t meant as an insult, just a statement of fact.

  “Maybe not, but I’d take it, anyway.”

  He took her lips as if he owned them. She took his as if it was the only thing left to do. Her magic churned unhappily, but she ignored its distaste, using it to fuel her every action.

  She wanted to love Alex. More than anything. And she did, she thought. But thinking something was not the same as feeling it.

  And that part of her was blocked.

  For now, she’d give him what she could.

  Soon, there’d be nothing left for either of them to hold on to.

  In sleep, Etta looked like the queen she was. Her hair was splayed across the pillow, its brilliant golden strands catching the sun as it streamed through the window.

  It was when she woke that she was the girl who’d beaten all of Gaule’s best soldiers in the tournament. She’d killed them without a second thought. If Alex hadn’t seen for himself what she could do, he wouldn’t believe it.

  He studied her still features. Nothing about her was fragile, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was constantly on the verge of breaking. One moment she’d be comforting a Belaen family and the next she was shaking with rage.

  None of it made any sense.

  He didn’t remember that side of her from before.

  Her eyelids shifted and a moment later fluttered open. She stared up at him as the cloud of sleep faded from her eyes. Her brow scrunched as her face hardened. He sighed. Some things would never change.