Kingdom of Ash

So they had made a new one. In the ten
days since it had been decided she was to be
crowned here, before the world, they had
found a master goldsmith to forge one from
the remaining gold they’d stolen from the
barrow in Wendlyn.
Twining bands of it, like woven antlers,
rose to uphold the gem in its center.
Not a true gem, but one infinitely more
precious. Darrow had given it to her himself.
The cut bit of crystal that contained the
sole bloom of kingsflame from Orlon’s reign.
Even amid the shining metals of the crown,
the red-and-orange blossom glowed like a
ruby, dazzling in the light of the morning sun
as Darrow lifted the crown from the pillow.
He raised it toward the shaft of light
pouring through the bank of windows behind
the dais. The ceremony chosen for this time,
this ray of sun. This blessing, from Mala