Crown of Iron (Book 1 of the Crown Trilogy)

Thirty-Two

The moment I walk into the house, three bodies fling themselves at me.

"I'm so glad you're home."

"Did you get to fight the Stigian?"

"Are you giving up on rescuing Papa?"

I hug each of my siblings, and with a laugh, say, "I'm glad to be home. Let's save my stories of run-ins with Stigian for another time." I bend and place my palms on Ansley's round cheeks. "And I will never give up on rescuing Papa."

She glares up at Rowan and Salone. "I told you she didn't give up."

A lump of emotion catches in my throat; my siblings believed I abandoned my quest. They trusted me to bring Father home, and I failed them. It's a blow to my self-confidence to have my own blood doubt me. I just have to remind myself it's not over; I'm still fighting.

I swallow down the wave of regret and ruffle Ansley's red curls. With a smile that's too wide and my voice a pitch too high, I say, "I believe we all have a dinner party to attend tonight. Go get ready."

I take a second to absorb the little details of being home—the scent of warm bread and Ansley's hand-drawn pictures of our family sitting in frames on the fireplace mantle. Mother's knitting needles and yarn rest on the rocking chair where she cradled each of us to sleep as babies. Wildflowers, pinecones, and beautifully molded iron complement the rustic decor and create a welcoming atmosphere.

I trudge up the stairs, the old wood creaking under my weight, and Rowan wedges in beside me. "What do you mean you're not giving up?" he asks. "Do you have another plan to get Papa back?"

"There are things in the works," I answer.

Salone matches my footsteps, her front pressed to my back as she whispers, "They won't let you go back, Raelle. I overheard Borin and Mama; they plan to move you into the palace in the next couple of days. You will be under lock and key."

The revelation sends a jolt of sadness and excitement through me. I despise the thought of moving out of my childhood home but living in the palace is perfect. No one will think twice about me wandering around if this is where I'm always supposed to be. Perhaps I will find the answers I need sooner than I thought.

I mask my emotion with indifference and say, "I know I'm not going back, and I expected them to move me there eventually."

"Then how—"

I hold my finger up to stop Rowan. "You are both going to have to trust me and back off with the questions." My siblings nod as we reach the landing, and I turn my full attention to Salone. "I suppose since this dinner is for me, I will need to look presentable."

A grin replaces her curiosity. She rubs her hands together and slips into my room.

I follow her, and Rowan scowls. "Come on, you could at least answer my question about the Stigian."

"Live vicariously through someone else, little brother."

"You get to have all the fun," he mumbles as I close the door.

If he only he understood the horrors I saw on the battlefield and the faces of dead Stigian who will haunt me for the rest of my life, then he wouldn't be so eager for my recount of events.

Hours later, the driver of our carriage stops in front of the palace and a footman opens the door, helping my sisters and mother out. I use the few seconds alone to steady my breathing and prepare to resume the duties I abandoned. I'm not ready to leave behind what I found at Basecamp, but I must push through the loss if our plan is to work.

Taking the footman's hand, I step onto the cobblestone path leading to the entrance of the palace. Lanterns hang along the tall outer wall, flickering against the gray stone. Every window in the five tall towers glows, signaling to the kingdom all are welcome in the king's home. We enter the grand foyer where a crystal chandelier hangs over the black and gold marble rendering of the Lucent insignia on the floor. The same ebony stone covers the steps of the imperial staircase while the rest of the room is an immaculate white with subtle black accents.