The Viridescent Crown Novels & Stories

I’d never seen a combination so captivating; it was like he held two different seasons in his gaze. "I have this for you," he chirped, his voice bright as a bird's. He held up a delicate crown woven from wildflowers of the deepest blues and purples. Their scent was a heady rush of night-blooming jasmine and dew-kissed lavender. "May I place it on your head?" "Of course," I breathed, sinking to my knees to meet his height. He let out a delighted giggle, his small hands surprisingly gentle as he settled the crown atop my hair.

Once I was close enough, the three jewels emerged from their containers on their own, attaching to the crown with some kind of magic, or perhaps with ghostly hands; it was hard to tell. As the jewels settled into their ancient settings on the crown, a shock wave of pure energy burst outward, knocking several people off their feet. The crown rose into the air, hovering at eye level as it pulsed with power, its colours blending in perfect harmony: moonsilver, sunlight gold, forest green, and celestial blue. "The Harmony Crown," Sebastian breathed, his normally composed features slack with awe. "Fully awakened for the first time in centuries."

Bernice glanced at me. The maid put on white gloves and carefully opened the box to reveal a crown. I blinked. It was the Crown I had never seen before. It has twelve water-drop-shaped pearls arranged neatly on the crown. On the top of each pearl is a perfectly cut heart-shaped diamond. The base of the crown is silver with rings of olive-leaf-shaped crystals. In the light of the Sun, it is holy and elegant like the Crown of our moon goddess. Bernice was so pleased with the crown that the satisfaction in her eyes almost overflowed.

“Holy shit. What is that?” She doesn’t seem to notice anything as she tilts her head to Saint with a sweet smile and her hand outstretched for him. Her cheeks are rosy from the chilled air, creating an odd discrepancy from her ivory skin, white hair, and white eyes. Above Kas is what I can only describe as a crown floating a few inches over her head. The crown looks like it’s on fire. No. It looks like it’s made of fire. It’s composed of black flames that turn purple as it licks into the night sky and come into five points that remind me of spires burning tall in the night air. The one in the front center is the tallest. Each point emits colored smoke: scarlet red, golden yellow, silvery gra

I should have destroyed that instead of returning it. I need this to end. To stop. Revenge on my family is the last thing I will do. But, looking at the crown in my hands, I wonder if there’s another secret behind it. “Brother?” I said. “What happened, Rose?” my brother asked as he looked at me over his shoulder. “I was wondering, did father mention anything strange about this crown. You know something peculiar to it?” I asked. “Hmm, now that you mentioned it. I know it was to be bestowed to your mate by you. The crown, no wrong, the red rubies on it are the ones who hold power,” my brother explained as he looked lost in thought.

I said, turning away from the pillar. My matte-obsidian armor was gone, leaving the sharp geometric black lines tracing my collarbone like a collar of ravens. The Twin Crown was still light, its seven gems burning with a steady violet-blue flame that no longer needed my life-force to maintain. We had balanced the accounts. The anomaly had become the rule. "Vesper " I called out my voice echoing down the stone stairs into the keep.

But when they stepped away and I turned to face the tall mirror, I stopped recognizing myself. I looked like someone who belonged. Not to their world instead of mine. To both. Exactly as the dress said. "The headpiece," Brinla said, disappearing briefly and returning with a velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled carefully, was a crown of sorts — though crown wasn't quite the right word. It was wrought gold, a circlet from which thin tendrils extended upward and outward in an organic sprawl of vines. Moon-shaped pieces of pale amber caught between the branches. At the front, centered perfectly, the Blackthorn sigil sat.

I dare to ask. As her back straightens, her bench melts like a liquid shadow, swirling around her as it extends along her back, becoming a tall throne. From its back, a corona of smoky quartz grows into long, smooth, spikes. As she sits up taller, the dark moon, centered above her head, is highlighted around its circumference with a radiating light of neon violet, casting her sharp, proud features in a violet shadow. In her hair, raven feathers shine at the edges of braids that end in perfect ringlets. On her brow sits a simple crown of crystal and obsidian.