Swallowed My Crown Novels & Stories

“Did you never tell anyone about this? Not even your parents?” “No…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “They wouldn’t understand. I know…I know I’m the last person who should be bitching about life, but…I can’t help feeling this way. The title, the wealth and prestige…the price is high. The mantle of the king is heavy—I can feel it pulling me down. Sometimes I fear it will pin me to the ground. The crown feels more like a collar…a noose around my neck…and I’m starting to run out of air.” I confess, feeling broken.

I held his gaze as I opened my mouth and took him in. The crown is thick and he tastes like me. I swirl my tongue around it, a thrill went through me as I felt the muscles of his lower tummy clench, and a exhaled, a faint involuntary moan. “Fuck yes!” He whispers, watching what I am doing to him with avid eyes, “Now suck!” He commanded. I liked it when he did that. I obeyed him, sucking his crown only, my hands still wrapped around him. “More, deeper.” He grumbled out.

Althea fought her way back to Argos for Lysandros and helped him reclaim the throne, only to find herself trapped in the enemy kingdom of Thrace, wearing a slave's collar for three full years. Through three years of mortal danger, being dragged behind chariots, and bone-chilling winters, Althea survived on a single conviction: her betrothed, Lysandros, would come to rescue her. But when she finally set foot in the royal city again, what awaited her was not an embrace. It was a heavy golden laurel crown pressed against her brow, the Sacred Flame seal clutched in another woman's hand, and a royal heir growing in that woman's womb. She clung to one last hope: perhaps they had cast her aside onl

With a shaky breath, she stepped forward, the weight of the crown heavy in her hands. "I choose," she whispered. The words were a vow. A promise. A curse. As the crown touched her brow, something within her shifted , a spark, a pulse of power that was both foreign and familiar. The moment the cold metal made contact with her skin, the pain was immediate. A searing heat shot through her, like fire in her veins, burning her from the inside out. She gasped, stumbling back, clutching at the crown as if it might rip her apart.

But as she approached, she could smell the rot emanating from beneath its jeweled surface, could see tiny insects crawling in and out of gaps between the gems. When she reached for it, the crown moved. Not lifted—it flew to her head of its own accord, slamming down with force that cracked her skull. Immediately, agony beyond description flooded through her as the crown began to melt, molten gold and superheated gems flowing down her face, over her eyes, into her mouth. She opened her throat to scream and liquid fire poured down, burning away her vocal cords, her lungs, everything inside her that made sound possible.

I said, seeing the skepticism on their faces. I know many people disagree with what I am going to do, but I also know Xymyx just wants everything to be okay, and I do not want him to hold a grudge against me. When I lifted the crown, it became clear that it was emitting colors. “This crown that name by me to pass on to the new queen of the Myxious Kingdom,” I said, placing it on Xymyx’s head, and it lit up.

She was crying. Not weak tears. The strong kind. The kind that say, I survived. I remembered. I rose. I stepped closer. Lifted the crown slowly. But instead of placing it on her head, I leaned down and whispered— "This isn't a gift. This is what they tried to steal from you. But I took it back. For us. For you. Now wear it like you wear me—like you own it, baby." She nodded. And when the crown sat on her head?

I didn’t want anyone to see me after what I was about to do, so carefully, I hold the crown and take it out of the box. What a mistake. The moment I grabbed it, that moment I dropped it. Covering my mouth in fear, I back away from the object. My body trembles, and my mind kept replaying what I just saw. Somehow, the moment I had the crown in my hands, flashbacks of a kingdom being destroyed appear in my mind. It was so bloody that it made me feel like I was the one being killed.

Made of gold and silver metals twined delicately together, there were five points, each holding a gemstone, with the largest stone in the center. Without realizing what I was doing, I reached up to remove the crown. But when my fingers brushed the metal, the crown vanished. "Oh no," I whispered. Had I destroyed it? That would be just my luck. I leaned in closer to the mirror. "Think about the crown again," Christopher said, shutting the door behind him. "It should reappear." I swallowed and did what he suggested. Sure enough, the crown reappeared. "Thank you." Relief washed over me and for the briefest moment I thought I looked like my mom. I said her name in my mind.

Sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs. My eyes flew open as the connection deepened, unstable but insistent. Images flickered through my mind, too fast to hold at first, until one forced itself into clarity. The crown. Dark. Heavy. And then something beneath it. A flaw. Not something visible, not something physical, but something that could be felt through the echo itself. My breath caught. “There is a way,” I said, my voice low but intense. Every gaze snapped to me. “The crown can be overwhelmed.”