Paper Crown Novels & Stories

I glared at her. “Yes, you have worn the crown for too long.” She folded her hand around her chest. “Crown?” Herald asked, looking at Mom. And she took pride in explaining it to him. “Yes, there is a crown for the winner. It's right there.” She pointed toward a crown Dad made from gold and braze that he found. The crown exemplified hard work, resilience, and superiority in our house. “Oh now I really want to win.” Herald looked at me and smirked.

But it had made one mistake. A private security camera had captured it for three seconds. Lucas pointed at the screen. “Stop.” The image froze. The rider was wearing a black helmet. But Lucas noticed the jacket. A silver line ran across the shoulder. “Zoom in.” The image became clearer. Xavier frowned. “That symbol…” Lucas stared. It was a small black crown surrounded by a circle. “The same symbol.” “Yes.” Lucas leaned closer. “But this isn't the Black Crown's standard insignia.”

“We will leave you here, Hannah. Make sure to be a good woman in front of the prince. Don’t be so stubborn.” She just watched her parents leave her with a lot of ladies that she doesn’t even know. She breathed, trying to relax her senses. “Calling the attention of all the princesses, duchesses, countesses, and other royal maidens.” A dark, low voice said, making her turn. There she saw a middle-aged man looking very serious. There is a scar in one of his eyebrows, making it look like it was sliced in half. The golden lines that trace his suit lighten, and Hannah notices the sapphire ring that belongs to the Palace of Norway, which she noticed that was wore to the workers.

The last mention described her cult as “dissolved by decree.” Seraphina looked up. No one watched her. Quills scratched. Dust swam in the light. A distant bell marked the hour. She turned to a list of symbols. Scales. A circle split through the center. The breath left her in a quiet rush. She pressed her palm flat on the page. The mark fit perfectly over the drawing, like ink meeting its mold. The paper cooled under her touch. Frost bloomed in a ring around her hand and faded before it stained the parchment. She lifted her fingers quickly and glanced down the table. The scribes did not notice.

I could see it in his eyes that he appreciated me doing this for him and this made me happy. Who knew the event of a King’s Coronation was this weighty and overwhelming? Cayden and I both looked back at the Coronation and then two Grey Wolves stepped forward from their formational line, one holding a scroll piece— containing the Coronation vows Cayden was to recite, while the other wolf held a beautiful adorned foamy platform. — and on that Platform, was the crown, covered in purple silk to shield it from visewing. I could already feel its majesty.

The girl came back with our meal and began setting the table. "You can have this ma'am," he bowed and gave me a crown that was handwoven by beautifully selected flowers. "Wow, thanks." I collected it and stared at it with keen interest. "But Why? Why are you offering it to me?" The crown felt light in my hands. "Where I come from, it is believed that this crown fuels love and takes the couple to the next stage." She smiled and spoke like she was remembering a memory. She was about leaving when I called her to wait. "Here, have this." I folded three thousand notes into her hands.

This time I wasn't near either of those people however, I was on a train, heading back home. They had posted a picture of two people. The man was older, with grey hair and a grey beard. He wore a military uniform and had a golden crown on his head. His wife was about the same age, though she still had some brown mixed in with her hair. She wore a modest, royal blue dress, and had a silver crown on her head. I scrolled down and started reading the article.

I don’t need to add a bad omen to it too. When everyone has congratulated me, the clergy once again steps forward and removes my crown and takes back the royal egg. Luckily, I don’t have to take any pictures. We have all agreed that pictures can wait until I’m feeling and looking better. Plus, a picture of me lying in a hospital bed isn’t what I want to be remembered for.

Timeline: Ten years after wedding SPRING RENEWAL FESTIVAL The flower crown was Kael's idea. "Papa needs one too," he said, holding up a crown made of intertwined spring blooms with the conviction of a ten-year-old who had decided something was true and was presenting it as settled fact. Cassian looked at the crown. "That's not—" "Traditional," Kael said. "I know. I made it a tradition. Effective immediately." "You can't simply decide—"

For once, I did not try to make myself appear smaller. Greta adjusted the fabric over my shoulder and smiled at my reflection. “You look like a Luna.” “I am a Luna.” Her smile widened. “Exactly.” On the vanity rested the ceremonial crown. It was not delicate. Ironclaw did not create delicate things. The crown was made of dark silver, shaped like two wolves facing each other beneath a crescent moon. Small black stones had been set into the metal, catching the morning light. I lifted it carefully. My hands trembled.