The Shattered Crown BOOK 1: CROWN OF ASH AND GOLD

Chapter 9: Whispers of the Coven

The air in the witches' sanctum was thick with tension, crackling like a storm waiting to break. The council chamber—an ancient, circular room carved from opalite stone— the room was filled with the murmurs of witches robed in deep crimson and black, their faces set with worry. At the center of the chamber stood a glowing orb, its surface swirling with the faint image of Ember standing in the fae king's courtyard.

She's alive," one witch murmured, her voice trembling. "But she's in their hands."

"She shouldn't be there at all," snapped another, slamming a fist onto the obsidian table. "We should have brought her to us the moment her power awakened!"

Lysandra's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the pool. "She's stronger than we thought, she's alive that's all that matters she murmured, her voice a mix of pride and sorrow.

A tall, regal figure stepped forward, her presence commanding the room into silence. Her silver hair was braided with strands of crimson silk, and her dark eyes burned with authority. This was Matriarch Lysandra Ashthorne, Ember's grandmother and the leader of the witches' realm.
Lysandra's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table. "She's stronger than we thought, she's alive that's all that matters she murmured, her voice a mix of pride and sorrow

"We couldn't intervene," Lysandra said, her voice cold but steady. "The fae court has her surrounded, their wards impenetrable. Any direct move would have risked exposing the coven to retaliation."

"But, Matriarch," a younger witch said hesitantly, "she's the rightful heir. Isolde's daughter. If the fae king uses her against us—"

"He intends to," Lysandra interrupted, her gaze fixed on the orb. "That much is certain. The trials are a show of dominance. A means to break her spirit and display her as his captive."

Another council member, a wiry man with sharp features, leaned forward. "If Ember doesn't know her true lineage, she'll fall into his trap. He'll use her ignorance against her, twist her into a pawn."

Lysandra's grip on the staff she held tightened. "Then we must act before that happens."

"And do what?" the wiry man countered. "Storm the fae palace? We'd be slaughtered before reaching the gates. The fae king has waited years for an opportunity like this. He won't let her go without a fight."

"We don't need to fight," Lysandra said, her tone sharp. "We need her to remember who she is."

The room fell silent again. The witches exchanged uneasy glances.

"She's untrained," one of them said softly. "The magic she holds is immense, but she doesn't understand it. Doesn't even trust it. If we force her to awaken it too soon, it could destroy her."

Lysandra closed her eyes briefly, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. "If we do nothing, she'll be lost to us—and the fae will use her to bring us to our knees. We cannot let that happen."

She turned to the orb, watching as Ember was led away by fae servants. The defiance in the girl's eyes was unmistakable, a flicker of her mother's spirit.

"She needs to know the truth," Lysandra said quietly. "About her mother. About why the fae king wants her. Only then will she understand the power she holds."

"How will we reach her?" another council member asked. "She's surrounded by wards and fae magic. We can't simply send a messenger."

Lysandra's lips pressed into a thin line. "We don't need a messenger. We need a connection."

The younger witch hesitated. "You mean..."

"Yes." Lysandra's voice hardened. "Through the dreamscapes. It's risky, but it's our only option. If Ember's magic has begun to stir, she may be able to sense us, even if she doesn't realize it yet."

The council murmured their agreement, though hesitation lingered in their eyes. The dreamscapes were dangerous, a fragile bridge between minds that could just as easily break as it could connect.

"I'll go myself," Lysandra declared, silencing any further objections. "She needs to hear the truth from her bloodline. And if the fae discover my presence... so be it."

A heavy silence fell over the chamber.

The younger witch stepped forward, placing a hand over her heart in a gesture of loyalty. "We'll prepare the ritual, Matriarch."

Lysandra nodded, her gaze never leaving the swirling image of Ember. "My daughter's sacrifice will not be in vain. Ember will rise as the heir she was destined to be. And when she does..."

Her voice dropped to a cold whisper. "The fae king will regret ever laying his hands on her."

Hold on, Ember. We're coming.
—————————————————————————
The King walked off shortly after Kael following behind him. The guards came to collect me once more and took me to a dimly lit chamber that was just below the arena.

My muscles aching, and my throat sore from the fumes I had just inhaled. The guards stared at me with disbelief and shock that I actually had it in me to finish the maze. And for a moment I stood in complete and utter silence. The walls of the room were made of stone, and there were lamps hanging on each end of the room.

"Impressive" a voice said from the shadows.
I turned my head sharply to where the noise was coming from to find that Kael was the culprit. I frowned at him with disgust while he stood there expression still unreadable.

"What do you want?" I said rolling my eyes.

Kael leaned against the wall across from me. "Just checking in the little hybrid who managed to survive the maze. Not many do you know."

Is he kidding me with this nice guy act?

"Should I be flattered?" I shot back, letting him know I was irritated.

His lips twitched into an almost smile, but the smile never reached his eyes. They looked dead, lifeless almost. "You should be careful," he said. "The Kings not done with you yet. Surviving one trial only means the next one is going to be worse."

I balled my hands, clenching and digging my nails into my skin as to not smack him. "Enough with the games. Why don't even care? You're just like him— a manipulative arrogant-"

Kael stepped dangerously close only inches from my face. He locked eyes with my lips then back up to my eyes. His gaze sharp his voice low. " Careful princess." He said smirking. "You're not in a barn anymore."

For what felt like more then a few seconds we stared at each other the air crackling between us with the unspoken tension. Who does he think he is?

He took a step back his expression hardening once more. The playful smirk on his lips gone.

"Get some rest, you'll need it."

And with that he turned and left the door slamming shut behind him.