Golden Crown

by M. Lynn

“Who would have thought a bastard soldier would have something in common with a queen.”

  Etta smiled at that. “I’m still just the girl whose only skills are magic and weapons.”

  “With an ancient royal bloodline and the intense loyalty of even the Belaens who have yet to lay eyes on their queen.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, and that.”

  “Well, now you have my loyalty. My sword will be the truest in your army.”

  Etta’s eyes flicked to Edmund for his reaction and he didn’t disappoint. A smirk appeared and challenge danced in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

  Alex joined them, taking the seat next to his mother. Around that fire were the royal families of both Gaule and Bela. Etta wished her father could see them now. Would he be proud of her? He’d prepared her for sacrifice and here she was, making the greatest sacrifice of them all. It wasn’t her life—losing that might have been easier. This sacrifice was one of the heart.

  But she wasn’t alone. They were all being separated from the people they loved because of something as fundamental to life as magic. Tyson was leaving his mother and Amalie. Ara would miss her father. Edmund had already left everything he’d ever known, just as each of the magic folk who were crossing the border.

  This life had never been easy, but it had been theirs. What future waited for them in Bela? Etta was anxious to return to her people, but it was as if they were all walking into darkness.

  The cloud blocking out the sun was La Dame and the power that lurked within her.

  “You okay?” Edmund whispered, bumping her shoulder with his.

  Her eyes didn’t leave Alex as she nodded. Did she have any choice but to be okay? Alex said something to his brother and then got up to approach them, his long legs reaching them in a few slow strides. He lowered himself to his knees, facing both Etta and Edmund.

  “Promise me you’ll take care of each other,” he said.

  “Alex–” Edmund started.

  “Promise,” he growled.

  “I won’t leave her side.”

  “Like I could get rid of Edmund even if I tried.”

  Alex nodded. “Anders is nearby. As soon as the wards are in place, he’ll disperse his men throughout the kingdom to restore some sort of order. I’m sending Duke Caron and Duchess Moreau to their respective estates.”

  A harsh laugh burst from Edmund’s throat. “Does my father know I won’t be returning? The great Anders wouldn’t show up to wish his only spawn well?”

  Alex sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

  “I should have known better than to expect anything more.”

  Etta took his hand between both of hers. The flames lit the sadness on his face. His lips drew down, and he pressed them together.

  Alex watched him for a moment, words of comfort failing him. He turned to Etta. “I understand magic folk can’t cross the wards, but does magic work across them?”

  Etta’s brow scrunched in thought. “I don’t know.”

  “Well run a test to see if Ara’s magic can be of use to us. If you need me.”

  “Alex, I’m not dragging Gauleans into the fight with La Dame.”

  “If you need us,” he repeated, clenching his teeth. “We will come.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Don’t be stubborn.”

  He was impossible. Etta had no intention of calling on them and he wouldn’t listen. Her magic enhanced the anger already brewing. “You don’t have magic,” she yelled as it boiled over. “What do you think the few Gaulean soldiers who are actually loyal to their king can do against an army of magically armed Draconians? Gaule is useless to us.” When her words stopped and her chest heaved, the magic shrank back and she realized what she’d said.

  Alex stood slowly. “Good to know what you really think.”

  With those final words, he strode back toward his tent and disappeared inside.

  “That wasn’t okay, Etta,” Edmund said gruffly.

  “I know.” She pulled her knees in and rested her chin on them. Maybe it was better to make him hate her before she left. His life would be easier if he never thought of her again.

  As quickly as the thought came, it dissipated, replaced by the shattering knowledge of what tomorrow would bring.

  Alex wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when a warm body pressed into his side as Etta crawled into bed with him.

  Her words had been a stinging indictment. When she’d said Gaule was useless to her, he imagined she spoke of him. He didn’t have magic and would be no use at her side. He had very little skill with a sword even. What need would she have of him in a war?

  None.

  Could he really be angry at her for the truth?

  That’s what it all was. He didn’t know which parts of the Gaulean army was loyal and which turned a blind eye to the persecution he outlawed. Many of them had even taken up swords against him. His own people.

  He longed for the unwavering loyalty of the Belaen people. Etta hadn’t been raised to be queen and yet they left everything behind to follow her blindly in a direction that could lead to ruin. Again. Bela had been destroyed once before. Would it be again?

  “I’m sorry,” Etta whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck as she burrowed farther under the blanket.

  Alex kept his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of her. He didn’t want to be angry on their final night and he couldn’t remember Etta ever apologizing for anything before.

  When he finally opened his eyes, he turned to face her. “It was only the truth.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She propped her head up on her hand and bit her lip. “Sometimes I say things and can’t stop myself.”

  “That’s always been your problem.” He smiled but the intensity of her gaze didn’t waver.

  “It’s different now. This magic…” She sucked in a breath. “It has a darkness to it. Ever since the curse was broken, and this power flooded me, it’s like I can’t control anything. The power… I think it’s angry. It has a mind of its own and intensifies everything I feel. If I’m the slightest bit irritated, it turns into anger and hatred so deep that sometimes it’s all I have.”

  Was it true? The ancient Basile power was dark? But the girl before him was the light of his world.

  He tucked an errant strand of silky golden hair behind her ear. “You can beat it.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. There are two people living inside me. Etta—the girl who will leave her kingdom to protect her people. And Persinette Basile, the queen who was always meant to have the Basile magic. One is just trying to survive each day and keep her kingdom alive. The other yearns for more. More power, more magic. Persinette Basile wants to raze Dracon to the ground no matter what she has to give up in the process. Etta doesn’t want to leave this bed and the one man who can make her forget she’s anything but that girl who won a tournament once upon a time.”

  He kissed her, his lips searing his own faith into her. “Have you ever thought Bela needs both Etta and Persinette?”

  She nodded. “I think I need both too if I’m going to beat La Dame. She has all the power of Persinette, but what she lacks is an Etta. She wants revenge on my family, but vengeance will never win.”

  He pulled her head down to his chest. The silence of the night hid the fears of the morning as time slowed and they drifted into the land of dreams where the time for separation would never come.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Etta left Alex once before. After Alex imprisoned Edmund for his magic, he’d asked her to break his friend out of the dungeons and get him somewhere he’d be protected. It was amazing how far the king of Gaule had come since then.

  When she’d gotten free of the castle with Edmund and Tyson, Alex hadn’t known her true identity, and she hadn’t known the true implications of the curse. She hadn’t known that every moment she spent at a distance from her charge would be shrouded in agony.

  She hadn’t planned to return, but instead
to seek out La Dame and break the curse.

  She’d been naive.

  When Alex learned who she was and of the magic in her blood, he’d sent his men after her and the small string of hope she’d had for him had been broken.

  She never imagined it would be restored, but it had.

  Now, she stood on the border between Bela and Gaule next to Alex, unsure of any words with the power to make this anything other than the end.

  Because it was.

  After everything they’d been through, the imprisonments, the battles, the hushed words in the middle of quiet nights—this was where they broke. And this time, there would be no reconciliation, no reunion.

  There was a harsh sting that came with the finality of goodbye.

  Alex squeezed her fingers, refusing to let go of her hand.

  “It’s time.” Duchess Moreau’s voice was soft.

  To many, she seemed the only person who wasn’t losing someone to these wards. She wasn’t being separated from people she loved.

  But those people only had to look her in the eye to see how wrong they were. The duchess had dedicated her life to protecting magic folk. She’d hidden them from the blood-thirsty soldiers during the purge. She’d given them good lives on her land. Allowed them to live freely without risk of persecution. She’d fought the old king every step of the way and worked to show Alex that they too deserved freedom.

  In erecting the wards, they were admitting defeat. They’d lost. Gaule couldn’t protect magic folk from their own. The kingdom only moved in reverse.

  Tyson was the first to step across the border after tearful hugs with his mother and Amalie. Ara was next.

  Edmund gripped Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t try to die again,” he said. “Next time, we won’t be able to come save you.”

  The words sounded light, as if Edmund had no cares, but Etta knew better.

  Alex brought her hand to his lips and lingered there. “I love you,” he whispered.

  She reached up to run her fingers along his jaw. “Stay safe, your Majesty.”

  He smiled sadly. “You as well, your Majesty.”

  He pressed a light kiss to her temple and then her lips before finally releasing her.

  The deadline had passed and Belaens who had not yet left Gaule would have to fend for themselves. The Gaulean people would have their kingdom back as they’d always wanted.

  Etta nodded stiffly and stepped across the border. Her power twisted and churned as if straining to be free.

  She tested it, gathering every ounce of control she had. As planned, the group still in Gaule moved back away from the border. She hadn’t explained everything to them, but if her magic was too powerful for her, she didn’t want to hurt them. She reined in her emotions and sucked in a breath before letting the power leak from her fingertips. It hit the cold air and expanded as she shaped and molded it, invisible to all but her. She saw gold and light and everything good as it encompassed her before darkness started to creep in.

  As she closed her eyes, she called forth an image of her father, separating the magic he’d possessed from any other. She saw them so clearly, the wards, a shimmering barrier only her mind knew. She didn’t know how much time had passed as the power trapped her in her own mind. It took every ounce of energy not to let it burst forth as she hesitated, unsure if she could protect Gaule as her father had, if she could accomplish this feat.

  You’re strong enough for this, Persinette. Her father’s voice echoed in her head. Let the power free.

  The magic was like tiny lightning strikes along her skin as it obeyed her, taking slightly more control than she ceded willingly.

  Her body sagged to the ground, utterly spent, as she opened her eyes.

  Nothing looked different. Alex stood in the distance, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched her.

  Her lungs expanded painfully, and she exhaled.

  “I hear it,” Tyson whispered.

  The air itself buzzed. The magic swirled around them, inching along her skin.

  “Yeah,” Edmund answered. “I do too.”

  Ara whispered a few words that weren’t for their ears. When Alex nodded, Etta sat up on her heels.

  “Magic works across the wards,” Ara confirmed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Etta said. “We can’t bring them into a fight.”

  Edmund pulled her to her feet, and she walked to where their horses were grazing. Vérité lifted his head.

  “Come on, boy.” She strained to pull her tired body into the saddle. “No time to look back at a different life. It’s time to go home.”

  Time to remind herself that Bela was her home, not Gaule.

  They had a long few days ahead of them, but then they’d be back among their people. She forced herself to push Alex into a box in her mind, not wanting to cry over what she couldn’t have.

  Before winter was over, they had to get the new arrivals from Gaule situated, and then, they’d prepare for war.

  Alex stayed until they were no longer visible across the border. Etta didn’t glance back as she rode away. Tyson’s eyes met his one final time and Alex wanted to run after them.

  He understood why Tyson went. He needed to be part of the fight. But that didn’t make it any easier.

  His mother appeared beside him and hooked his arm with hers. “Goodbye is never easy.”

  “Tyson is still a kid, mother.”

  She leaned her head against his arm. “Tyson has never been a normal kid. From the moment I had Viktor Basile’s child, his destiny did not run alongside ours.”

  “Alexandre?” Camille said tentatively from behind them.

  He turned to find his sister leaning on her cane, her normally cold expression flooded with sorrow. She flicked her eyes back to where Tyson had disappeared and for the first time, he remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d had to say goodbye to a brother. Camille hated Etta, but in her own way, she had loved Tyson.

  He wrapped an arm around her. She might be defiant and harsh, but they had so little family left. Despite her feelings toward magic, she’d stuck by his side.

  “I hate this,” she whispered.

  “Me too.” Kissing the top of her head, he released her. “But now we have a peace to restore.” He considered her for a moment. “Will you join me in meeting with Anders?”

  Her watery eyes widened. “You actually want my help? Not my husband or the duchess?”

  Her surprise ate away at him. Had he really shoved her aside? She was a part of the royal family and knew more about ruling than he ever would.

  He glanced at his mother who was watching them carefully before grabbing his sister’s arm to help her walk over the uneven ground. “Come on. We have a lot to do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Etta’s people greeted her warmly as if she’d been gone for more than a few mere weeks. There was no hesitancy in their loyalty. They’d been so desperate to have someone to follow they had latched on and hadn’t let go.

  Etta slid from Vérité’s back, her feet slamming into the ground. Her ground. Home. They were in the middle of the expanded part of the village. She could see the progress right away. They’d been working hard in her absence.

  Matteo appeared, shaking the shaggy hair out of his eyes. He ran in a very un-Matteo like way toward them and she braced herself to be swept along in his relief, but he passed by her with barely a glance and stopped right in front of Edmund.

  “You’re back,” he breathed. “We’ve been so worried.”

  Edmund’s face danced with amusement. “You were worried about me?”

  A blush crept up Matteo’s face.

  “Who is that?” Ara asked, dismounting next to Etta.

  “That would be Matteo,” Tyson said with a laugh. “Looks like I missed the good stuff while I was in Gaule.” He shot Etta a grin. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  “By the looks of it, Edmund didn’t know either.” Ara laughed.

  Embarrassment froze Matteo to the
spot and his eyes shifted. Before he could back away, Edmund leaned forward and pressed his lips to a shocked Matteo’s.

  Matteo responded after a moment, and before long, Edmund pulled back. “Thought so.” He winked.

  Etta groaned. She wasn’t in the mood for declarations of love. Ever since leaving the border days before, her power had grown even stronger. It had taken a lot of magic to create the wards and she couldn’t stop herself from drawing in more.

  But the power pulled her further from the light. For a little while, Alex had been able to hold her there, but without him…

  She ducked inside as she gestured for an idle boy to take care of Verite. Everything was as she left it. Her throne rested against one wall, seeming smaller than before.

  With a sigh, she dropped her bag in the corner.

  Matteo rushed into the room behind her, a flush still in his face.

  “Welcome home, cousin.” He offered her a relieved smile.

  “Home.” She rubbed her temples to soothe the pounding in her skull. The next words that left her mouth felt wrong, but she didn’t have the energy to stop them. “I have no home.”

  As soon as they were out, she sighed. “I didn’t mean that. Sometimes I can’t–”

  “Look.” He wrapped his hands around her biceps. “I get it. You forget, I lived with La Dame most of my life. I’ve seen what too much magic can do to a person.” He bent to meet her eyes. “If it’s too much, promise me you’ll come to me.”

  She didn’t get a chance to agree because Esme rushed in. The Draconian woman rushed forward, looking Etta over as she did. “Are you injured? Do you need me to heal anything?”

  Etta stepped away from their worried stares. How was she going to tell her cousin they had Draconian blood in their veins? That she had the healing magic?

  One thing she knew for sure was that she couldn’t tell Esme. The woman had helped her immensely, but there was very little trust between them.

  Etta wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for the next week, but as queen, she didn’t have that option. She sighed. “We have matters to discuss.”