Until a letter arrives from The Witch of Lupine Grotto, detailing a curious offer to banish her curse forever.
Her heirloom dagger at the ready, Lilac embarks into Brocéliande and finds herself in the hands of a bloodthirsty barkeep who demands her help in exchange for protection against the even deadlier forces of the woods.
She is thrust on a quest to uphold her family’s legacy—and her sovereign right to destroy it and start anew—by any means necessary. Pity the fool to underestimate the girl with subpar blade skills but pure spite to make up for it.
This is the tale of a cursed princess,
A crestfallen killer,
The town that wants them to burn,
And the witch who can save them both.
Excerpt:
Outside her door, Lilac turned to tell him goodnight—and her breath caught in her throat.
The way the torchlight illuminated his hair from behind made him look ethereal.
She rubbed her eyes.
“You,” she said, fumbling for the knob behind her. Should come in, she suddenly wanted to say as he regarded her from a safe distance, in the middle of the hallway.
“Have a good night, Garin,” was all she managed.
It was closer to sunrise by now, but a couple hours of sleep sounded better than nothing. She grabbed for the knob again and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing under her breath, she tried again, harder. This time her hand slipped, and she stumbled backward.
Garin was suddenly behind her, catching her by the shoulders.
“That was quick,” she observed as he righted her.
“No, you’re just moving in slow motion. You did finish off a rather large serving of a sipping drink in all of five seconds.Would you like me to help you inside?”
Lilac stiffened against him. It didn’t sound like a horrible idea—but she wasn’t sure it sounded like a good one. Not only was it unsafe for her as a lone traveler, but there was no sense in allowing herself to become sidetracked. Not with everything at stake.
She couldn’t.
Could she?
Seeming to sense her hesitation, he immediately let go of her. “I’m sorry.” His voice was different. Soft. Gentle, even.
Lilac turned to face him, to tell him it was all right.
“That was not my intention. I would never hurt you.” The remark seemed off kilter, but suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Stars then danced in the twilight of his darkened irises, and through the haze, Lilac wasn’t so sure.
A curious feeling washed over her then. The longer she held his gaze, the lighter she felt, and the more aware of her hammering pulse she grew. It throbbed through her head, her throat, her fingertips, down her legs. The longer she looked, the softer his sharp edges became.
“Would you like to come in?” The words felt foreign as they fell out of her mouth.
His brows rose slightly—suggestively—and so did the corners of his mouth.
Her cheeks grew red. No one had ever taken a moment to question her intent before. “I just thought you might have wanted to…” She trailed off, flustered.
“I didn’t intend to make it seem like I was waiting for an invitation. I was only admiring you.”
“Me? Why?” She crossed her arms across her chest.
“It’s everything. Your face. The way the torchlight frames it just there.” He drew his hand near. “May I?”
She nodded, and he reached up and tenderly ran his knuckle down one cheek. Then the other. The shiver that ran through her came too quick to conceal.
Garin didn’t even seem to notice. “You have a striking look about you.” He leaned against the wall—against her door—and without thinking, she pivoted her body to face him. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”
She shook her head, throat dry.
Although he was the one propped against the wall, she felt pinned by his gaze. She stepped closer.
“You would look almost menacing if you swept your hair back.” He reached for her again and smoothly ran his palms from the bottom of her ears, down the sides of her neck, over her collarbone, sweeping her hair back to rest over her shoulders. It felt entirely like a lover’s caress, and she stepped back in panic.
“Menacing,” she repeated, riding her nerves. “That’s a funny way of calling someone beautiful.”
“Beauty is what people admire from afar. Menace is the lure that draws them near.”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t know anyone who would prefer menace over beauty.”
“I do.” He smiled lazily, and even if everything else had grown blurry, it made him more clear. Every glance he gave her was filled with a strange hunger, subtle enough and not predatory, but like he was challenging her to ask him about it. He was a commoner that smelled like he’d bathed in the finest custom colognes and spoke like he had the money and armies to match.
Garin pushed himself off the wall and circled her. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Behind her, his voice was a low whisper that slammed into the wall of her will, cracking her poise and grace.
Part of her wanted it to break. Perhaps shatter completely.
She began fumbling at her door for the knob. Getting inside felt urgent. But then, through the haze, her mouth opened. “Come inside,” she said breathlessly.
He gave her a knowing smile and leaned past her—he smelled of pine and wood hyacinths emerging after the cold—and pushed her door open.
Oh.
“After you.”
Author Bio:
Southeast Asian fantasy author with a soup addiction. Diverse medievalist and developmental editor who lives in oversized sweaters, and prefers to explore the more ominous—disenchanting, if you will—undertones of history, romance, and the arcane.
My debut, Breton Arthuriana-inspired YA Dark Fantasy DISENCHANTED, released with the Parliament Press in March 2020, and is being re-released and rebranded for the New Adult/ Adult indie market in December 2022. The rest of the trilogy will follow this updated genre rating.
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