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.