hands. His fingers left sticky fingerprints in the filthy gold. The monk gazed down at the crown, at the headpiece of an ancient kingdom and then at the frightened little girl. The monk finally nodded. Once.
I cried. I couldn’t stop crying. “I can’t leave you,” I told the boy.
His bright blue eyes stared at me with unshed tears of his own. “This is the only way to keep you safe.” He took a step closer, grasping my hands, red with blood not my own. “You have to go, Tessa. You have to go, or they’ll kill you too.”
“What about you?” I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, trying to be strong and brave, just like him. “They’ll kill you too.”
He shook his head hard, jostling his dark curls, tossing them over his forehead. “They’re not after my kingdom. They don’t want anything to do with me.”
“I can’t leave you,” I insisted.
His blue eyes pleaded with me even as he pushed me toward the monk. “This is the only way I can protect you. Please, Tessana, let me protect you.”
I blinked, surprised by that memory. I’d forgotten about the prince. I’d forgotten about the crown.
“I’m to marry you one day,” that same little boy declared just weeks before. “I’m to marry you and that means you have to let me protect you.”
I’d tilted my defiant chin and argued, “I don’t need you to protect me.”
His smile had warmed my insides. It was as brilliant as the sun. “I know that, Tessa. That’s why you must allow me to.”
“Fine,” I’d sighed. “You may protect me. When we’re married. But not a single day before.”
Father Garius cleared his throat and my mind snapped back to the present. The crown pressed against my rapidly beating heart and I had to swipe away a tear I hadn’t realized had escaped.
“This is my father’s.” I spoke words trapped in the prison of my past. I moved my thumb over the diamonds and engraved vines. I closed my eyes and saw him seated at the edge of his throne, the crown on his head, a smile tilting his lips. I could see my eldest brother trying it on when my father wasn’t in the room. I could see my sister staring at it with open-mouthed awe.
This crown that didn’t only rule one kingdom, but nine. Nine kingdoms ruled by a legacy of one hundred kings.
The Crown of Nine.
My father had been the hundredth monarch in the bloodline of one hundred kings. My eldest brother was to be the one hundred and first.
But my father’s rule had been cut short and my brother’s ended before it ever began.
And now I sat in the quiet solitude of the Monks of Silence, kingdoms away from my own, hidden away in secret, protected out of sheer necessity, the only remaining member of the royal family of Elysia.
And in my fragile grip, I held the key to uniting the scattered kingdoms. To bringing peace to the realm once more.
To the vengeance that I craved above all else.
3
I blinked for what felt like an hour. My eyelids felt as heavy as the crown in my hand.
“I had forgotten you had this,” I told Father Garius.
He nodded. He probably credited it to my trauma.
I again thought back to that awful day, to a day that had started out joyous and bright. All nine royal families had come to the celebration my father was hosting in honor of the birth of my baby brother. The royals had come in majestic caravans to show their respects to the newest Elysian prince.
But intruders had invaded the palace, death hot in their blades. They had not harmed any other royal family. Only my family had been slaughtered.
While my family lay still and lifeless, taken before their time, I had been whisked away with the crown.
My uncle now ruled over Elysia and the nine kingdoms, but he ruled without a crown. He could never be the true king without it.
Men would die for this crown.
Wars would be fought over this crown.
And I held it in my hands, knowing that it was time to step out of hiding.
“You must go home.” The rasp startled me and I nearly dropped it. Father Garius opened his mouth again. “You must rule, Tessana. This crown belongs to you. It has always belonged to you.”
It was obvious he hadn’t used his voice in many, many years. I doubted there had ever been a time in his life that had necessitated breaking his vows