Page 40 of Crown of Iron (The Crown Trilogy #1)

Twenty-Four

W e’re looking for anything about the kingdom's separation,” I say, turning back to the journal I was reading before Kyron made his presence known.

He leans back in Micah's desk chair and his hands grip my hips, pulling me down to his lap.

“You're already getting distracted,” I say over my shoulder.

“Just making sure we’re both comfortable for the long night ahead.”

“Sure you are. Just stay focused.”

He chuckles and sets to work reading his assigned journal.

I recline against his chest while he mindlessly runs his fingers over the side of my thigh as he reads. It takes me a few moments to become accustomed to his leisurely touch. I shift to my side, tuck my head under his chin, and delve into the journal.

It's unnerving to read all Micah's private thoughts—his feelings for Borin, his hopes for Lucent, his hatred for his sister, and his self-deprecation for not being strong enough to hold the kingdom together. But it's a necessary evil.

The pages also hold much of the history leading up to the siblings dividing Pliris.

Micah writes about how his and his sister's views of Khiros and Cyffreds differed.

Esmeray's steadfastness in her belief that the Statera makes one people superior over another, blessing them with gifts.

In her opinion, those whose gifts lie dormant should exalt and serve the Khiros.

Micah believes the choice is beyond our control, and we must treat all equally.

As tensions flared between the two rulers, so did that of their people.

Pliris was on the verge of a civil war that weighed heavily in favor of Esmeray and her Khiros supporters.

Micah made the hard decision to separate from his sister, secretly building a small colony and smuggling the Cyffreds out of Stigian, Pliris' capital at the time.

It didn't take long for Esmeray to realize what was happening.

She called for a forty-day summit, where the two divided their assets and devised a set of rules which benefited both of their kingdoms. And so, Lucent and Stigian were born.

The history of Pliris is nothing new to me.

Most of Borin's lessons revolved around how the two kingdoms came to exist. It’s Micah's commentary on the events that is so impactful. His grief for failing his people, and his elation for protecting those who could not stand against a Khiros army. Thirty years later, he’s still the same, and the war rages on.

Kyron shifts, and a low grunt vibrates his chest.

I glance up at him and find the chiseled edge of his jaw just above my lips. I kiss it and ask, “Have you found anything interesting?”

He hums and pulls his attention from the journal. “It's all interesting. Abrum taught me most of this, but it's different reading it in Micah's words. He has a deeper perspective of things.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” I say, flipping to the next page. My forehead crinkles as I take in the images before me. I lean forward, placing the book on the desk. Kyron looks over my shoulder at the two detailed drawings surrounded by explanations.

Along the top is the heading, The Sacred Gifts of the Statera. The sheet on the left is labeled Posseda with a sketch of a tear-shaped stone, shaded in orange and red. The description below it reads:

The sovereign who holds the Posseda can drain the power of Khiros and Cyffreds alike, temporarily using their energy to magnify the gifts of the Posseda's possessor.

When the sovereign places the stone in flowing water, its power runs with the current and can be shared.

Setting a wet hand to another's skin will allow them to siphon the power from the one touched.

Once one's power has left the body through the Posseda, it cannot be returned.

Kyron's fingers dig into my hips, and I look back at him, saying, “That's how the Stigians do it.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“That's not what I was expecting. I thought it might be more intimate.”

A wave of relief washes over me. It was one of my greatest fears that Esmeray was using my father in unspeakable ways. Not that siphoning his power isn't grotesque in itself. But to think that she has laid hands on him in a way he did not want. I hate to imagine it.

I move on to the caption on the other page.

The Eporri allows the possessing sovereign to control the power of others, manipulating it as they wish.

This Sacred Gift takes more time to master but is just as powerful, if not more so, than the Posseda.

There are no known amplifiers for the Eporri; its power can only affect one person at a time and can be used by Khiros and Cyffreds alike.

These stones are intended for the rulers of Pliris and their heirs only.

They must be trained to hone the gifts from infancy so they may slowly acclimate to the power with their own.

Wielding them without small exposure and practice will cause dependency, the likes of which are so addicting no one only one has ever overcome them.

Kyron stiffens behind me, and I note how no one has a single line through it, and in newer ink, it reads: only one .

I turn to face him as he swallows and stares at the words. Running a hand over the back of his neck, I say, “You've overcome the impossible, Kyron LeFur.”

“Barely,” he whispers.

Gently, I tug his hair until his eyes find mine. “Barely was enough. I'm happy it was enough.”

His lips lift in a half-hearted smile. “Me too.”

I kiss the tip of his nose and return my attention to the journal .

Together the Posseda and Eporri are the Sacred Gifts of the Statera, used to anoint the next sovereign of the Pliris kingdom and bestowed upon them at the time of coronation. They are to be used to provide protection, prosperity, and balance to the land.

I always thought the Statera blessed Esmeray and Micah with exceptional gifts that lived inside them. It never occurred to me that what granted them an elevated status was held in the palms of their hands.

I read the last lines on the page; one Micah separated from all the rest.

At the time of the kingdom's division, we also divided the Sacred Gifts between King and Queen.

By my doing. I took the Eporri without consulting my sister first. She wanted to keep both in Stigian's sanctuary where they resided for millennia, making her the more powerful ruler.

I've hidden the Eporri with the hopes of never needing to use the more powerful of the gifts.

But if the time comes, it will be in safe, capable hands.

I turn my attention to the second hand-drawn picture and my eyes widen.

A perfectly sketched multi-color disc with the shape of a flower embossed in the center.

My palm slides to the side of my thigh and the odd scar I've always despised and kept hidden most of my life.

I follow every stroke of the pencil with my eyes as my finger traces the bumps on my skin.

Stroke for stroke, the ten petals on the page match those on my leg.

I have what Esmeray wants.

I close the journal, stack it with the rest, and stand. “I know what Esmeray wants.”

“What?” Kyron asks, following me to the cabinet.

One by one, I place the books in the order I found them, taking advantage of the distraction.

My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and I need a moment to sort them and devise my next move.

The only things I know for sure are that I have the Eporri, and Kyron won’t let me trade myself in the place of my father.

I need a rational voice to put this all into perspective for the both of us.

Someone who understands the importance of saving my father and finding the best plan to accomplish it.

I lock the cabinet and walk back to the desk to return the key to its hiding place.

“Raelle?” Even in the dim light, the concern in Kyron's eyes blazes.

“I need you to find Leif and for the two of you to meet me in my room. Will you do that for me, please?”

As we exit Micah's study, he says, “Yes.”

“Thank you,” I whisper before kissing him on the cheek. “Oh! And can you hand this to him?” I place the key to Micah's office in his palm.

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

Minutes later, a soft tap comes from my door.

I finish placing another log on the fire and hurry across the sitting room to let Kyron and Leif in.

Both men wear worried expressions as they carefully examine me, and I cross my arms over my chest, wishing I'd thought to change out of my nightgown and robe.

But my mind hasn't veered far from what I need to say to them.

Leif sits in the center of the cornflower blue sofa, spreading his arms along the back and crossing one leg over the other.

I move to the center of the room as Kyron settles in one of the two white and blue striped winged-back chairs.

They watch me as I fidget, searching for the best way to start the conversation.

With a deep breath, I turn to Kyron and say, “I know where the Eporri is located.”

Leif speaks up before Kyron gets a chance. “The E-what?”

As I sigh and close my eyes to collect myself, Kyron explains what we found in the journals.

He doesn't leave anything out about the stones, detailing what they look like and how their powers work.

The men discuss how the Statera meant for the Eporri and Posseda to make Pliris formidable among the other four kingdoms and how they were divided.

The only thing Kyron doesn't know is that I possess one half of the power.

The moment I realized what I possessed, relief washed over me. For weeks, I’ve dreaded telling Micah that I’ve come into my power, that the prophecy he was given all those years ago about a powerless ruler wasn’t true. All his hopes and dreams for Lucent were tied to those words. To me.

Unfortunately, that calm I found in realizing I’m still a Cyffred was short lived .

“You think that's what she wants?” Leif asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.