Page 23 of To Love A Monster
“My father’s cruelty knew no bounds.”
“The King was not well, and he would never take my council,” Ivasaar said as I sat on the throne, my head resting in my hand as a part of me wished I had never yearned to meet him.
“Are you ill, my love?” Daegon asked as he knelt in front of me, his hands resting on my legs as he could see the stresses I was carrying.
“I am tired, my heart and mind are heavy, and all I wish is to return to our home and fall into your arms.”
“I promise, my sweet Aylin, that when we return home to our village and our warm bed—I will not let you out of my sight again.”
***
“Are you all right, my love?” Daegon asked as he lifted my sheer black veil, a piece of cloth I was ready to rid myself of once we left for our journey home. His kiss comforted me and ignited an ache between my legs that would not go. I needed my mate; I needed his touch and craved his seed.
We had a small moment of stolen kisses the night before, my skin still able to feel his hands on my skin, but I wanted to respect the rules of the High Elves. Daegon assured me that once we returned to our village and they welcomed Halla, we would sneak away and fulfill our deepest urges.
“I am. I am just anxious to have you alone.” I whispered as he growled deep in his chest and kissed me again before pulling me into his arms. “There are eyes upon us, my mate.”
“I care not of their stares. When this is over, we will leave—and hopefully never return.” His words struck me since they reminded me that I had to turn over the crown and renounce my title, which I never wanted nor deserved. I was royalty by birth, but I did not earn this crown nor rule over a people I had been raised to hate.
I had chosen who would wear the crown and knew they would make a fine ruler, but the crown was known to corrupt those who wore it. The power of the crown was undeniable.
“My Queen,” Ivasaar said in a humble tone as I lowered my veil, the obsidian crown feeling heavy on my head as I wanted more than anything to toss it to the ground. The crown was crafted from the most delicate stone, the bloodstone, a jewel composed of the blood of my ancestors. The jewel was as large as my hand and had no place on this crown, surrounded by the most delicate crystals and gold. Ivasaar insisted that the jewel represented the people of Oryndaas. To me, it just showed my ancestor's vanity.
“I am ready,” I whispered as I slipped my hand into Daegons, his lips kissing my shaking knuckles as I took comfort in his presence. He walked close behind me as we walked out into the grand courtyard, the air cold. I felt a shiver run through my body. The square was filled with dark red flowers, the likes I had never seen before, but Ivasaar had assured me they were only used during a time of great sadness.
Seeing my mother’s lifeless body in the center of the pyre brought tears to my eyes, the fond memories of her dancing in my mind. I would miss working in the garden with her stories and how she would wake me every morning by gently pushing some hair from my face. She was not perfect, but she did her best as a mother. I just hoped that when the time came, I, too, would be a great mother. With the entire court watching, I grabbed a small piece of wood from the pyre and placed it into the lantern held by Ivasaar.
“It is with great sadness that I lay you to rest, but I know that those who have died before you will lead you into your next life,” I said as I placed the lit branch at the base of the pyre, Daegon gently pulling me back as the rest of the wood became engulfed in flames.
“Goodbye, mother.” I whimpered as I could taste the saltiness of my tears, my face remaining dry when I had lit the pyre for my father’s burning. I had no love or connection to my father except sorrow and anger. The entire Kingdom seemed to almost rejoice at his burning, but Ivasaar reminded me that he was a cruel king who rarely showed mercy, even to his people.
The crowd dispersed as the bodies burned, everyone joining in the throne room to await my decision, my legs unable to move as I just watched the fire burn. My mother was gone. Her soul now returned to the sky. I mourned her death, but my heart still felt this was a terrible dream.
My mother burned for hours, reduced to ash and memories that floated away in the wind. I watched in confusion as Daegon carefully scooped up some of her ashes and placed them in a small pouch he kept at his side.
“What are you doing?”
“Halla can mix these with some precious metals for a necklace for you—that way, your mother is always with you.” His words were sweet, and his gesture was kind, my heart racing as I embraced him.
“What have I done to deserve you.”
“My sweet Aylin. You deserve the world and all it has to offer. My kindness and acts of it will never falter and if you feel one day that they have, tell me, for I will spend every waking hour making sure you are happy.”
“What would make me happy, Daegon—is a child,” I whispered as he leaned over to kiss my lips, Ivasaar clearing his throat as he rolled his eyes at my mate’s protest. “Tonight, after the passing of the crown—we will leave hastily. Is Halla prepared for life in our village?”
“I am worried my men are not prepared for her. One has already fallen madly for her.” My eyes widened in confusion as Daegon assured me he would tell me about it on the journey home.
“Everything is ready in the throne room, My Queen. Have you chosen who will take the crown?” His words caused a smirk to move over my lips, for I knew there was only one true Elf who was worthy of this crown. Ivasaar had suggested that the crown go to the Kings cousin Faelar, an elf who was just as despicable as my father.
The gaze of the elves upon Daegon had softened, but I could still feel their hatred for my mate as we walked into the throne room. My eyes looked up to the behemoth ceiling made of ice, rock, and veins of gold. I would miss the beauty that Oryndaas held, but I knew I would never want to return.
“Join Halla among the others,” I whispered to Daegon as I joined Ivasaar by the large obsidian thrown, a throne that was never mine. A throne that made me sick to my stomach.
“I assume that you have chosen who will wear the crown?” He asked as he stood next to me, a smile on my face as I nodded, my eyes going to the large crowd as I could feel the tension in the air. The Kingdom of elves was worried about whom I would choose as their next King, my father leaving behind a legacy of torment.
“I look out at the worried faces of all of you and assure you that I have put much thought into who will become your next King. My father was cruel and ruled this Kingdom with fear and torment. The most rational choice for the next King would be his second in command, but the moment your dagger plunged into the stomach of my mate—your chance of wearing the crown was lost.” I said as my eyes glared at Akkar, his sad expression changing to regret as he looked away from my gaze. “I gave up my immortality to be with my mate, Daegon of Ironshield Clan, and I have no desire to rule over a people I spent my life running from.” The crown felt heavy in my hands as I removed it from my head and lifted my veil, my body turning towards Ivasaar as his brow furrowed in confusion.
“There is only one here who is fit to wear this crown and take on the burden of ruling over this Kingdom—and that is you, Ivasaar Caivaris, son of Ivakin. Do you accept or yield?” Ivasaar looked to the crown and then to me, tears filling his soft blue eyes as he stood tall before lowering to one knee.
