“Sure.”
Janae patted Layla’s hand. “I’m sure you’ve had a very tedious few days.”
“You could say that.”
“I know that this is all very confusing and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to just disappear.”
Layla raised her eyebrows at Janae’s words. She would be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Of course she wanted to know the truth of her heritage and her lineage. But, she wasn’t convinced she’d be the right choice for a queen. She didn’t know anything about leading.
“You should know that I don’t expect you to make a decision today. I remember what it’s like to have the weight of my people thrust upon me at an early age. And I had been groomed since birth to lead the elves. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”
Layla looked at the queen in disbelief. She’d so perfectly captured the turmoil of Layla’s inner thoughts, it was astounding.
Before she could respond, the queen continued, “But, you should know that I hope you choose to take on this mantle. King Renard’s tyranny has put magicals at risk. We have lived in fear for too long. He subjugates our existence and this cannot continue. It will not.”
There was a ferocity in the queen’s voice that Layla wouldn’t have expected from someone her age. She smiled, a smidge of her tension easing away.
“You are the evening star we’ve been waiting for,” Janae continued. “If your fire burns as brightly as your mother’s did, I have no doubt that you will be able to inspire unity among the remaining magicals of Lunameed.”
Although the queen’s words produced a swell of anticipation within her, they also brought anxiety. She breathed in deeply before saying, “I’ll think about it.”
“And that is the best I could have hoped for,” Janae replied quickly. “Now,” she said, tapping Layla’s hand, “I believe you might want to see some of the vestiges of your family.”
Quirking an eyebrow, Layla let the queen lead her from the room. She watched as Janae handed the case containing her encrypted memories to one of the guards. He nodded before disappearing into the shadows beyond the room. Layla watched him go, wondering what her future would hold.
Chapter Twelve
Layla followed Janae through a hallway made entirely of bent trees. They intertwined at their meeting in the center. Delicate lights were strung in the branches and lanterns were hung every few feet. The faint scent of lavender and honey wafted on the air. It gave the hallway an ethereal feeling that calmed Layla’s nerves, as if she were being stripped of her anxiety and given a serenity she’d rarely experienced before.
“This walkway is called the luminarium. Every elvish camp has one. It is where we go to seek inner peace when our minds and hearts are troubled by the darkness of the world.”
Janae ran her hands over the trees forming the grove. A soft white light illuminated her face as she smiled at Layla. Where her hand rested, tiny silver flowers bloomed. The buds were no larger than the size of the starling Bear had given her. She plucked one and handed it to Layla.
“This place has always reminded me that, even in our darkest of places, beauty can unfurrow its wings and soar.”
Layla stared down at the bloom in her hand. It glittered as it caught light from a nearby lantern, as if it were made from thousands of diamonds.
“You should keep that with you,” Janae said as she turned to continue their trek through the grove. “These flowers are rare, but they are known for their healing properties.”
Layla stared down at the flower. It seemed too delicate to bring life back into someone. Besides, she had advanced healing abilities. She didn’t need a flower to mend her wounds for her. She could do that herself.
They stopped in front of a large, curved double door. Carvings of the ancient gods were engraved into the wood, which was polished to a glistening sheen. All manner of magicals were depicted, even some that hadn’t been seen in an eon. The history books said that mermaids and unicorns had disappeared from the world before the Five Hundred Years of Darkness, when the tyrannical king ruled all of Mitier. But here they were: dozens of them worshipping the old gods like all the rest. Strangely, there were only eight gods depicted on the door. She double-counted just to be sure. She turned to Janae to ask about the omission when there was a loud creak and gust of cold, musty air.
Lights turned on as Janae entered the room. Layla followed, her eyes bulging out of her head as she peered at the array of antiques.
“What is all of this?” she whispered. There were decaying thrones, trunks full of jewelry, rusting swords, and other relics she would have thought should have been in a museum.
“These are the treasures of the magical world. They are bound to our histories—our stories,” the elvish queen replied. She navigated to the back of the room, Layla in tow. Opening a small chest with the fae emblem—the same tree tattooed on Layla’s back—she continued. “These belonged to the Shadowcrest line. This is all that remained after the fire.”
Layla stared down at the content of the chest. A few books, singed at their corners, and an assortment of jewelry were the only contents. Pressure built behind her eyes and she knew tears were imminent. She ground her teeth, chastising herself for her weakness. She refused to cry over dead parents she never even met. Besides, there was still a chance she wasn’t the fabled lost princess. Although she breathed in a long, shuttering breath, she couldn’t fight the whisper at the back of her mind that told her these were her belongings. They were a part of her home.
Janae stooped to pick up a small golden tiara from the box. Soot filled some of the crevices, but even the gritty black powder couldn’t fully diminish the glowing ruby in its center. She placed it on Layla’s head.
The tiara was surprisingly light. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror that was half-shrouded in the corner. The golden crown seemed to be ablaze as if it mirrored Layla’s pyro abilities.
“I remember when your mother had this designed for you,” Janae whispered. “Your parents struggled to conceive for years. They tried all sorts of remedies, both scientific and magical. Nothing worked. When your parents gave up hope of ever having children, your mother finally became pregnant with you. She was determined that you would have the best of everything. She wanted you to be the beacon to unify the magical world again. Of course, that was all after we had signed the treaty with King Renard.”
Remnants of her history lessons came flooding back to her the more she and Janae spoke. The rulers of the humans, fae, and elves had signed a treaty to rule Lunameed together following a decades long war. For a time, there had been peace throughout the land. But then, without any official reason, tension began to brew between the fae and human races. It culminated in King Renard ordering the assassination of the Shadowcrest line.
She ripped the crown from her head and thrust it back into the chest with a clinking sound. “This isn’t mine!” she shouted.
It was petulant and immature, but Layla didn’t care. She didn’t want to be given relics of a world she had never known. Even if she was the queen, she didn’t know this world or how to lead. Having that tiara on her head only proved to her that this was the wrong choice.