Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1)
Chapter 54: The Last Crown

The dragon took Danilo, Nick and me to the Golden City; a lush, warm town filled with golden buildings situated on an island in the middle of nowhere. After paying a hefty sum of gold, the only gold we had left, we arranged a ride by ship to the Bordering City, which took two more weeks. Nick and I continued south by carriage and Danilo went north to Bastia.

When we entered Irenwell territory, Nickeltinker was back to his old complaining about royalty and injustice, because we didn’t have to pay for anything. Which was good, considering we had no money whatsoever.

The people were kind enough to let us in on the newest gossip. The news of Ace’s apparent betrayal reached the Middle Continent before we did, and Irenwell buzzed about our bravery and heroism in the face of danger. Nick was slightly angry that no one regarded him as the enemy of the kingdom, though.

Seeing my people created a funny feeling; warm and fuzzy, but also uncomfortable. So many lies separated us now. Their versions of truth clashed with mine, creating a barrier.

The return to Irenwell took another week, which concluded the journey. Four months and six days. I left Irenwell in the wake of spring, only to return in the middle of summer. I’ve gotten used to the northern climate and the heat was almost unbearable.

Our carriage approached the Irenwell castle. My heart thudded with anticipation, turning more painful the closer we came.

“I owe you three silver coins.” Nickeltinker said suddenly, his voice quiet and distant.

I turned to the floran, seeing him in the velvet seat of the carriage felt weird, “How come?”

“The bet.” Nick smiled and looked at the top of my head, “I said you’d lose all your crowns by the end of the journey. Looks like you’ve managed to keep one.”

“Oh.” I touched the copper crown on my head. My hair formed knots around it, preventing it from falling.

Nickeltinker grinned, “I was always a bad gambler.”

I pulled the crown off and handed it to the floran, “Here, take it.”

“Why?”

I laughed, “You stole it fair and square.”

The green-skinned boy took the crown, a smile gripping his face, “Thank you.”

“Now I owe you three silver coins.”

The carriage stopped in front of Irenwell castle. My eyes took in the green gardens, the rows and rows of grapevine, the orange and yellow fields of crops, and the wooden houses settled under the white-stone castle. Summer was here. Irenwell’s most wondrous season.

But it wasn’t the scenery, or the flora and fauna, or the high summer sun, or even the unbearable heat which surprised me the most. It was the bustling crowds, the people rushing to greet us, which startled me.

As the carriage stopped in front of the white steps of Irenwell, all the folk hurried out of their houses, carrying baskets of fruits and corn and grain, lit candles in their hands, wide grins on their faces.

King Rodrig himself stepped out of the castle; his face older, more wrinkled, more worried than a couple of months ago. He’s even grown into his crown. Dressed in light, casual robes, not worrying about his appearance, he rushed down the stairs to meet he carriage.

I stepped out, my heart in my mouth, and my brother pulled me in his embrace. His arms tightened around me and he breathed into my neck.

“I thought you were dead.” He whispered, only for me to hear. “I thought you were dead so many times.”

“I’m still around.” I whispered back, tears stinging the back of my throat. “I thought I wouldn’t make it so many times.”

“Your Grace?!” A shrill, anxious voice came from the stairs.

My lips widened and I moved away from my brother.

Gretchen ran down the stairs, almost stumbling over her grey robes, her hair falling out of her bun, tears falling down her cheeks. Her embrace was the tightest of all and she almost squeezed all the air from my lungs.

“You’re alive!” She shouted. “For Goddess’s sake, look at you! Look at your clothes, your hair! You must be dying for a warm bath. I shall arrange it quickly, quickly!”

“Gretchen- breathing-”

The maid let me go and took my face in her palms, she carefully observed each line and crease of my face.

“Goddess! I’ve missed you so much!”

As many more people gathered around me, trying to hug me, pat me on the back, congratulate me on surviving, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. The only person whose hug I wanted was still in the carriage, his wide, gentle eyes staring through the window.

I tore everyone off, startling them. Confused and worried glances followed me as I rushed back to the carriage. Nickeltinker stepped out.

“Stay here.” I said. “Stay at least for a couple of nights.”

Nick shook his head, “I have to reach Gyorg.”

I turned to my brother, “Give him silver. And food. He’s going to need it for the road.”

The crowd gathered around us and Nick pulled away from me with discomfort.

No one moved, no one said anything.

“Silver.” I raised my voice. “My friend here needs some silver so he can continue his journey.”

Rodrig nodded and turned to his consultant, Bobrich, “Bring the boy some silver.”

“Irina...” Nick murmured. “Uh, your Grace. There’s no need.”

“Shut up.” I mumbled back.

Bobrich brought out some silver and Gretchen packed some food for the floran, while the rest of Irenwell uncomfortably stared at us from afar. This was a strange occurrence to them, seeing their Princess so relaxed in the floran’s company.

But I felt closer to him than anyone in this castle.

“I should get going, Princess.” Nickeltinker’s gaze flew to the crowd and he smiled tightly. “I assume you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Nick...” I whispered. “It was a pleasure.”

The floran hugged me tightly. The crowd gasped. No one dared to interrupt, not even my brother.

“The pleasure was all mine, Irina.” Nick moved away from me.

As he entered the carriage and slowly rode away from the castle, I knew I would never replace better friends than them, the six I’ve met in the distant north, the six that fought by my side, bled by my side.

“Your Grace?” Gretchen’s hand fell upon my shoulder hesitantly. “How about a bath? And some food? Clean clothes?”

“Rodrig.” I faced my brother and walked up the stairs, aware this wasn’t something the people should hear. “A word?”

My brother’s orange brows furrowed, but he nodded, “Let’s go to my chambers.”

Walking through Irenwell’s bare, white halls was unfamiliar and strange. Despite being born here and loving this place from the bottom of my heart, I felt like I watched it for the first time. The servants whispered amongst themselves as I followed my brother, their eyes skittering over my dirty outfit and my messy hair.

“Where is Ira?” I asked, realising my younger brother was nowhere to be found.

“Visiting grandpa in Inse.” Rodrig answered, his smile tight. “He should return by nightfall. I’ve sent word.”

I nodded, “Good.”

Rodrig’s chambers were the same as ever; filled to the brim with scrolls, books and quills. My mother’s paintings decorated the walls, covered by dust. My brother’s consultant, Bobrich, lingered by the door, but I closed it in his face. No one should hear this, at least not yet.

I dropped in the red velvet chair, “There’s a few things we need to talk about.”

My brother fixed his crown and sat down on the opposite side. Only a table separated us, but it felt like we were oceans apart.

“More than a few, I imagine.” Rodrig’s wide green eyes took me in. “You look different.”

I chuckled, “Well, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a shower.”

“Irina, you should have rested...” Rodrig stood up abruptly. “This could have waited.”

“No.” I shook my head and leaned against the backrest.

Rodrig sat back down, his shoulders slumped, “What happened?”

“Do you want the long version or the short version?” I raised my eyebrow, but my brother simply shrugged. “Alright, the short version-”

The short version stuck in my throat. How could I possibly explain this in a few short sentences? How could I encompass everything that’s happened in a few lines?

“There’s going to be a war.” I said. “And you cannot trust King Bernard.”

Rodrig’s orange eyebrows jumped up, “What?”

So I told him everything. I’ve told him about the plane of Ir-kaal and how our father attempted to unlock it with King Bernard and the last Orathian King, how King Bernard apparently killed our parents, how he attempted to kill us on our way to Orathia. I’ve told him about Soterios and his army of cultists and how we’ve hopefully managed to kill them. I’ve told him about the icy vastness beyond the Spirit territory, about the summer solstice ball in Aradda, about the dragon and the strange forests of Orathia.

I’ve lied about a few things, too. I’ve told him we did not manage to lock Ir-kaal and that Ace betrayed us, because as I’ve sat with my brother, I realised I didn’t fully trust him. Not because I thought he was a bad man, but because I thought his reaction would be rash and he’d ruin our narrative.

I’ve kept a few things to myself; including Rixen and the love I’ve left in Orathia, Torvald’s death, my blooming magic and the spell I now carried around my neck. I did not mention the loyalty that now lay with no kingdom and no king. The loyalty that now belonged exclusively to the four men scattered around the world; my companions, my partners, my friends.

Rodrig stared and stared, his eyes widening, his mouth gaping.

By the end of the story, he opened our father’s liquor cabinet and served us wine. It’s been a while since I’ve drunk Irenwell wine.

“What happened to the Fae pendant?” Rodrig glanced at my necklace.

“Oh.” I touched the heavy jewel. “It fell into some molten gold.”

“Ha.” Rodrig mumbled. “Where is your crown?”

A chuckle fell off my lips, “Let’s see. One of them is in the Woods of Loria, Ace took it. A baby-eating mind witch from the Spirit territory has one. Liu Raj has another. The fourth disappeared in the earthquake in Orathia and I’ve given the fifth to the floran.”

Rodrig’s face remained deadpan, “You have more here.”

“That’s true.” I laughed.

“You should... you should sleep. And eat something.” Rodrig stood up. “I need to think about all of this.”

“Of course.” My lips tightened. “Gretchen will freak out if I don’t take a bath.”

“Go ahead.” Rodrig said. “I’ll see you at supper.”

I stood up and headed for the door.

“Irina.” Rodrig called. “You truly look different.”

I shrugged, “It must be the northern air.”

Both Rodrig and I knew it was much, much more than the northern air.