Free Crown of Crystal Flame by C. L. Wilson

overwhelming emotion. “She didn’t let it break her, though. She was too strong. So strong she could live through all of that and still allow herself to be vulnerable enough to love me.”
    The words kept tumbling out, as if he needed to say them, to hear them. As if he needed to remind himself.
    “She is vain, I know. And she plays her game of Trumps with the members of the court, making them dance to her tune so she can control them. She constantly schemes for ways to increase Celieria’s power and might. But all that is part of her armor. She learned from a young age the best way to protect vulnerabilities was through power, and that power comes from being the most beautiful, the wealthiest, the wiliest, the most controlling. That is how she defends herself and the few people she will ever let herself love. In a way, she is like a tairen. Fierce. Territorial. Willing to destroy anything or anyone who trespasses on her lair or threatens the members of her pride.”
    Ellysetta would never have drawn that comparison herself, but a look at Annoura through her husband’s eyes put a different perspective on Celieria’s beautiful, scheming queen. “I never understood that about her.”
    “Few do.” He gave a melancholy smile. “She doesn’t want people to understand her.”
    “Because that would make her vulnerable.”
    He nodded. “There’s nothing she fears more than that.”
    Fear and vulnerability were concepts Ellysetta understood all too well. She didn’t like Queen Annoura. The woman had never been more than grudgingly gracious, and sometimes not even that. But King Dorian was a good man with a kind heart, and Ellysetta could tell he loved his wife deeply—perhaps as much, in his own way, as she loved Rain. There must be something worthy inside the prickly queen—some goodness Ellysetta had never seen.
    “I have faith you will find a way to set things right,” she said. “Hold fast to your hope. She loved you once enough to overcome what she feared most. A love that strong does not wither easily.”
    Dorian closed his eyes, rubbing his face in a weary gesture. “So I have always believed. We have had our arguments before, some of them quite fearsome. How could any man not, with such a strong, stubborn woman for a wife? But this time…” He shook his head. “This time feels different.” Bleak shadows filled his eyes. “I chose the Fey side over hers one too many times. She says I have betrayed her. And the way she said it… the look on her face…” He shook his head. “I don’t know that this breach
can
be mended.”
    Ellysetta winced. He had trusted the Fey, the way Annoura had trusted him, chosen to support them at deep, personal cost. No wonder he’d been so devastated to discover how they’d deceived him.
    “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”
    “As am I, My Lady Feyreisa. As am I.” Dorian heaved a sigh and rubbed his neck, rolled his head in a slow circle to loosen the tight muscles. “It’s late. Both of us should be to bed. Tomorrow will be another long day.”
    “Of course.” She started to leave him to his solitude, then paused. “Before you go, King Dorian, may I ask you a question? “
    He inclined his head. “Of course.”
    When he turned around, a dark brow raised in patient inquiry, she said, “I know you feel that we betrayed you by letting Adrial remain in Celieria without your knowledge. But if you had to make the decision to come here again—even knowing that we hid the truth about Adrial’s presence from you—would you still come?”
    He bowed his head, and his chest expanded on a long inhale as he considered the question. “Yes,” he admitted softly. His sober gaze lifted, met and held hers, and he reconfirmed in a firmer voice, “Yes, I would. I would command that Talisa Barrial remain in Celieria City,” he clarified, “but the rest, I would do again.”
    Ellysetta nodded.
“Beylah vo.”
She hesitated. Five months ago, she’d been a peasant, a