Crystal Crowned [ARC] (45 page)

“I hate snow,” Elecia muttered to herself.

After the battle, Elecia had eventually returned to the West. She had stayed through the last Southern winter to help heal the remaining wounded soldiers and, upon Aldrik’s request, to help reestablish a clerical program in the palace. Elecia had, of course, bemoaned her sacrifice the entire time she remained there. But she kept it to herself that she actually had enjoyed having full control of how she thought clerics should be trained. When she left things were running smoothly in the capable hands of a particularly talented healer named Luzbelle.

It hadn’t all been smooth. Dissenters were still rampant through the winter and Jax, who had been made head of the guard, was busy trying to get the city—and Empire—back under control. Aldrik was often busy with Jax in that respect, and many nights Elecia had found the two men deep in argument over how best to ensure the continent was once more safe and loyal. It had pleased her to see that, even as things returned to normal, her cousin still avoided the bottle. She saw how he looked at it on long days, but Aldrik never touched it. Even when Jax gave in and sipped from his own glass.

The last she heard, Jax was being sent off to the East to help rebuild there. It was an equally personal mission as he went hunting for Daniel. But their last correspondence had painted a bleak picture on that front. It made her contemplate how he was doing on many an occasion. She wondered if he was back in the South, or if he had just decided to take up residence in Hastan. Elecia wondered, but she had a pretty good idea already.

Eventually, as what often occurred, people tired of fighting. The crystals had vanished, remaining as mysterious as they’d ever been. They had fractured and broken down, shattering under their own weight before turning to dust. It was as though all the magic had been exhausted, and Elecia couldn’t fathom how no matter
how
hard she tried.

The caverns had been crystal-free and filled with dust when Vhalla and Aldrik had sent Groundbreakers to check. Even still, they left nothing to chance. The Groundbreakers had collapsed the mountainside. One of their first Imperial decrees was striking the infamous place from all maps and records.

She hummed to herself, and a little smile crept upon Elecia’s face. She was looking forward to seeing them all once more. She allowed herself to enjoy life and be excited now. The last thing she wanted any of them to see was her enthusiasm at the idea of a reunion. Mother forbid they got the idea that she would stay longer than necessary.
She had an image to upkeep.

However, the luggage strapped to the back of her carriage may betray her. Even her father had questioned the quantity of possessions she had brought. Elecia scolded him for thinking a woman could need anything less. He said little else, his focus fraying with her mother leaving for the North.

Things had actually progressed smoothly on that front. Last Elecia heard, Vhalla and Aldrik were struggling with breaking the news of the deal they’d struck with Sehra to their advisors and quickly recovering Senate. But the princess seemed ever patient, poised, and unworried. She was not a scheming ruler waiting at Vhalla’s bedside for a child. It reassured Elecia and her mother, who was the newly appointed ambassador. Despite the turmoil, things were moving toward peace.

Elecia stretched her legs, glancing out the window. She may have been able to walk to the capital faster.

The carriage door swung open as the wheels ground to a halt. Elecia hardly acknowledged the man who had driven her halfway across the continent.
He had been so-so at best
, she mused as she drew her cloak about her. It was a wonderful garment that had been specially made at her request, lined with thick fur, an inner layer of wool, and an outer layer of rich red velvet to keep out the chill—function and fashion. It kept her warm, she determined as she stepped off the metal rung onto the snow-covered ground of the stables.

Rebuilding had progressed nicely. The new stables were erected, and the decorative wood overlays looked to have been receiving their first coats of paint and gilding when the wet part of winter had set in and stalled work. She thought the wings over a certain horse’s stable were a bit much. But Aldrik always had a flair for the dramatic and overt symbolism when it came to the woman.
As if he really needed to mark his territory
; the woman only had eyes for him. The irony had never been lost on Elecia when her cousin was so secretive on everything else.

“Elecia!” a familiar voice called.

Fritz raced over to her from the palace stairs, darting from a side door. His hair had grown out, and part was pulled back behind his head in a limp ponytail. Elecia tilted her head. Somehow, the weight pulled out the wave and frizz and made it more presentable. It matched the formal clothes they had thrown him into, more befitting of his station than the shaggy cut he wore prior.

“It’s been awhile.” Elecia smiled. She had decided forever ago that Fritz was worthy of her smiles.
But only if too many people weren’t looking.

“Too!” He threw his arms around her, and, were it not for Elecia planting her feet to the ground with a small tingle of magic a moment before her reached her, she would’ve toppled into the wet snow. “Long!”

“You are making a scene.” She patted his back nicely before shoving him away with both hands. He could be as bad as an Easterner with his affection. A habit he’d no doubt learned from a certain someone. “Now, let me look at you.”

“Are you coming to see Vhal? You must be, right? I hear she’s refused all other clerics. Wait ‘til you see her! She’s—” Fritz was practically bouncing up and down.

“Yes, yes. I’m here to see our stubborn little Empress,” Elecia cut him off before he got carried away. With a small amount of amusement, she reached up and looked at the broken moon pin he had affixed to his chest. “Don’t you look official, Lord Charem?”

“Stop it.” Fritz pulled away with a laugh. He had been the hardest to convince to accept his new role in Aldrik and Vhalla’s world order. With Victor dead, a new Minister of Sorcery was needed. Once Vhalla got the idea in her head of Fritz filling the role, no one could persuade her differently.
The woman was bound to have at least one or two good ideas.

“How have you been settling into it?” Elecia asked, folding her hands behind her back. Aldrik always looked so regal when he did so. She was the cousin of the Emperor and the Lady of the West in training; she had every right to look regal.

“Some bumps, here and there.” Fritz scratched the back of his head as they walked for the palace, Elecia’s baggage being unloaded behind them. “Not everyone agreed with Vhal on my appointment.”

“Power hungry mongrels, Fritz.” Elecia shook her head, sending the snow scattering onto the stone steps leading into the palace. “No matter what, there were going to be people clamoring for prestige in the aftermath.”

“That’s what Aldrik said.” Fritz sent snow scattering off his own shoulders.

“Aldrik.” Elecia glanced down, adjusting her cloak. It served to hide a small grin. It had always grated her cousin that a common born Southerner seemed to have little qualms addressing him by his first name without ever receiving express permission. Naturally, Elecia saw no point in correcting Fritz. Someone had to give Aldrik a hard time when she wasn’t around. “How is my dear cousin?”

“Slowly going crazy.” Fritz laughed. “With Vhalla as she is.”

“Lovely,” Elecia rolled her eyes.
Why did men seek to complicate the littlest things when it came to the nature of women?

They ascended the stairs together until they reached halfway to the Imperial quarters. Fritz told her how they had decided to postpone the Festival of the Sun this year. That there was too much left to rebuild to be putting on a lavish festival. Elecia hummed over that; it wouldn’t have been her choice.

She understood why last year’s Festival of the Sun had been cancelled. It would have come only months after Victor’s ultimate demise. But this year, this year she felt the people could use a touch of normalcy in their lives. It was one of the many times that Elecia wondered what kind of Empress she would have been if given the chance.

An Eastern man waited in the hall. His palm was on the stone of a windowsill, and, with a small smile, he watched the snow fall outside. He turned upon hearing them approach.

“Grahm,” Elecia held out her hand.

“Lady Ci’Dan.” Grahm took her hand and shook it warmly. It had taken some time to convince Elecia that Grahm was worthy of the Southerner whom she had claimed as her own—but he won her over eventually. “It is good to see you in the palace once more. How are you?”

The man’s work with the Silver Wings had made him the figurehead of the resistance, someone people looked to. Elecia’s tolerance of him warmed to a quiet appreciation as time dragged on. And the effect he had on Fritz was heartwarming. If Aldrik and Vhalla weren’t bad, these two were almost enough to make her feel lonely.

Elecia’s eyes glossed over the knot in Grahm’s sleeve. She’d managed to salvage that mess of an amputation following the final battle of the war. The amputation, the crystals going dormant, or both had saved Grahm’s life. Though, Fritz still wrote her time to time asking about the dreams that still afflicted his now engaged, fearful of the taint. Elecia reassured him; there were so many reasons for them all to have nightmares.

“I am in the South in the winter; how well do you think I am?” Elecia bemoaned once more, drawing her cloak tighter about her for effect.

“Shall I have a Firebearer appointed to your chambers again to ensure they are properly warmed before bed?” Grahm asked.

With that offer, Elecia knew instantly who was the real Minister of Sorcery. “You thought that would even be a question?” She sniffed at the cold air about her.

“It will be my pleasure.” Grahm smiled.

“Join us for dinner?” Fritz asked, tugging on her hand like a little brother.

“If the Imperial family does not demand me.” Elecia nodded.

“I haven’t seen Vhal in forever!” Fritz whined. “If they demand you, then bring me with you!”

“It’s only been three days.” Grahm chuckled, adjusting the knot at the bottom of a limp sleeve.

“Forever!” Fritz repeated, exasperated.

His friendship with the Eastern woman had intrigued Elecia at the beginning. It took some time before she realized what drew people to Vhalla Yarl. As much as she tried otherwise, she, too, was eventually ensnared by the woman’s determination and general optimism. Elecia would likely die before she let the Empress know. Someone had to make sure their Windwalker did not get haughty.

“She’s busy with the library,” Grahm reminded Fritz.

“Oh, who was appointed Master of Tome?” Elecia asked. It had not been decided when she left. The last master had not made it through the war, and the news had hit Vhalla hard.

“Vhal’s old friend, I think her name is . . .” Fritz chewed it over. “Roan, it’s Roan.”

Elecia remembered Vhalla going through multiple conversations with the woman. They’d seemed tense. She hadn’t understood at the time; anyone would be ecstatic to be elevated beyond their status. But the Empress had refused to speak on it, handling it entirely between her and the Southern woman.
Well, whatever it was had clearly been worked out.

Time was what they all needed. People moved away as soon as they were free to do so. For the first months after the end of the war, the capital felt like a town of facades, beautiful outside but empty on the inside.

Too many people had seen too much and experienced such horrors that the streets would never be the same again. It led to a decline in the normally steep price of capital homes, and Aldrik had been smart enough to raise taxes before people took advantage of the low prices and started buying. Thus, the crown’s coffers were replenishing.

Even now, the castle seemed understaffed to Elecia. After saying goodbye to Fritz and Grahm, it was too long before she saw another staff or servant. Time would heal this, too, of that she was certain.

Elecia had not been immune. She’d had to leave and return for the West. It was all too much to still be in the place where there had been so much blood and death. She needed to see her family and simply relax, but she hadn’t told anyone else that. The last thing she wanted people to think was that she was weak. Others would be like her. Once they breathed, they would come home.

The Imperial halls were almost back to normal. Once all the crystal debris had been cleared, they had put a low priority—comparative to all which needed to be done—on restoring the artistic nature of the palace. She was surprised at how far they had come in one year. As she rounded the staircase up the main atrium that housed the Emperor and Empress, she was impressed at how normal it all seemed.

She paused briefly and looked down the hall that she knew led to Aldrik and Baldair’s old rooms. What were they being used for now? Perhaps Vhalla’s father had been put up in one. It seemed a shame to let them sit empty. Though, the Imperial living area was so large and room-filled that there was almost always going to be something that stood vacant.

The door to the Emperor and Empress’s chambers was a large portal at the highest point in the atrium. It was an arched double doorway cast entirely in gold.
Aldrik’s father had been so gaudy in his choices for decor
. She gave the knocker a solid rap, wondering if they had truly not heard of her arrival yet.

A minute dragged by, and Elecia began to feel offended by lack of greeting.

“They’re not there,” a male voice echoed up from halfway down the stairs—through the entire hollow of the room.

Elecia stilled, turning slowly. She didn’t allow for one crack in her usual demeanor. She pretended to ignore the tingle on her skin as she turned to look at the frustratingly stunning specimen of a man. Jax gave her an easy smile in reply.

“Would you like me to escort you to them, Lady Ci’Dan?” He ascended a few more stairs, holding out a hand.

She noticed immediately the golden bracer that adorned his wrist. Elecia wondered if he’d managed to start the Golden Guard once more in Baldair’s honor, if he’d created a new charter dedicated to the defense of the whole Imperial family. But she didn’t ask. Her tongue had turned to lead in her mouth.