Sheâs a child of the stars.
Heâs a child of fire.
Together they must stop the world from burning.
***
Elle was born for one purpose â to bond the Godstars, and claim her destined magic.
But many in the Vale of Astyria believe that itâs time for the age of magic to end.
On the eve of her betrothal, Elle is betrayed. Unless she wants to spend the rest of her life as a puppet in a cage, she has no choice but to flee.
And thatâs not even the worst partâŚ
An ancient enemy has invaded the Vale, and without the Godstars, Elle canât save her people. What she needs is her magic, but what she gets is a sarcastic princeâŚ
Alone and hunted, Elle must decide whether trusting Kaiserian, an invader-turned-traitor, will save her people â or doom them.
Sheâs a child of the stars.
Heâs a child of fire.
Together they must stop the world from burning.
***
Elle was born for one purpose â to bond the Godstars, and claim her destined magic.
But many in the Vale of Astyria believe that itâs time for the age of magic to end.
On the eve of her betrothal, Elle is betrayed. Unless she wants to spend the rest of her life as a puppet in a cage, she has no choice but to flee.
And thatâs not even the worst partâŚ
An ancient enemy has invaded the Vale, and without the Godstars, Elle canât save her people. What she needs is her magic, but what she gets is a sarcastic princeâŚ
Alone and hunted, Elle must decide whether trusting Kaiserian, an invader-turned-traitor, will save her people â or doom them.
âI know it has always chafed at Mama. That Papa would not have been the one she chose. But I've never resented this betrothalâI can't imagine ever choosing another.â
Aurelia, 6th Grace
A breeze sighed through the great trees of the Everwood, warm and relentless.Â
It made a nuisance of itself, as if, sensing it wasnât welcome, it was determined to make itself noticed. It knocked over table settings, dislodged bright bunting from the trees and set skirts soaring indecently.
From the top of the forest canopy, in the highest apartments, in the biggest hearthome, Elle echoed it.Â
Thenâin case she had been too subtleâshe huffed out a bigger, lengthier sigh. Jesna, her mouth full of pins, rolled her eyes. She refused to be distracted from her self-imposed chore of attaching a glittering whisper of fabric to the arms of Elleâs betrothal gown.Â
âIf you move, I will stab you,â threatened Jesna around her pins.Â
âBut then youâll get blood on my betrothal gown, and Annaria will stab you,â said Elle brightly, âWhich would make the whole thing counterproductive.âÂ
âStars save me from your mother-in-law.â Jesna gave a little shudder and switched to Elleâs left arm. Sheâd been tweaking the betrothal gown for weeks. There was so much crystal beading on the sheer white fabric, Elle worried the whole thing might just slip off her from the weight. But there was no denying the effect.Â
Elle gleamed like the Godstars she represented. The crystals clustered thickly around the hemline, fading up to a few artful and well-placed swirls that accented Elleâs generous curves.Â
Now Jesna was adding a whisper-thin cape that attached along the arm seams and trailed far, far behind her. The white was the perfect counterpoint to Elleâs copper curlsâthe distinctive hair that marked her station.
A gown fit for a queen.Â
Or a Grace.Â
Elleâs mood soured, which, on a day like today, was not a hard thing to achieve.Â
âSheâs not my mother-in-law yet.âÂ
Jesna stopped working long enough to squeeze Elleâs arm, and then continued her pinning. Jesna had never been the type for false words of comfortâwhat was there to say when the man you were promised to marry was the wrong one?Â
What was there to say when duty outweighed desire?Â
Even the wind knew something was wrong today.Â
It was ill-omened. Hot and dusty in the chill of early spring, it stoked tempers, slammed windows, and caused early spring buds to blossom too earlyâall the better to be killed off in the next cold snap.Â
It was a foul, disapproving breath from the wrong gods.Â
But it hadnât stopped the town from preparing.Â
Todayâs betrothal party was the start of a month-long celebration that would culminate in Elleâs wedding. The tree city of Ystellia was the shimmering capital of the Vale of Astyria and the center of their small world.Â
No self-respecting citizen would let the betrothal celebrations be anything other than outstanding. Several committees had formed, and it seemed like every one of them was in the clearing below, decorating everything that didnât move, and few things that did.Â
The bustle was a stark contrast to the tense quiet in the Graceâs apartments. Jesna was doing her best to keep up a volley of light-hearted banter, but the wrongness of the day ran too deeply in both of them to lift the mood.Â
The creak of the door echoed loudly through the apartments, and Elle and Jesna froze, sharing a horrified look. The unannounced visitor could only be one person, and theyâd both hoped to avoid her until the ceremony began.Â
And there was no time to change out of the dress.Â
Elle twisted to see Annaria framed in the doorway. The tall, dark-haired woman kicked the heavy door shut behind her with a wickedly-heeled foot. She looked like a flame in her deep red, high-necked, conservative dress. Dangerously mesmerizing.Â
But it wasnât the dress that caught Elleâs eye, it was what Annaria was holding. A small pile of brightly wrapped and beribboned boxes.Â
Betrothal gifts.
A trickle of dread made its way down Elleâs spine at the incongruous sight. Annaria never normally sullied her hands doing the work of servants, and Elle couldnât remember ever seeing her carry anything heavier than a wine glass.Â
Annariaâs eyes flickered briefly over Elleâs shimmering gown, so different from the conservative gowns the Synod normally forced on her. But her fashion rebellion barely gave Annaria pause as she strode into the light-filled receiving room, her heels somehow managing to sound vicious even against the soft white carpet.Â
She set down the gift boxes gently on the coffee table and speared Elle with a sickly sweet smile.
Jesna frowned, but said nothing, eyeing Annaria the way she would a shadowcat. She too was aware that a cheerful Annaria was a dangerous creature.Â
âAriella,â Annaria cooed, arms spread wide, âEllentyre would be so proud of you. Finally fulfilling your destiny.â
Elle gritted her teeth at the mention of her mother, pretending the words didnât hit home. Annariaâs satisfied smirk let her know sheâd failed. The arrogant smile of someone who thought theyâd won.Â
âYes, sheâd be so proud that I agreed to marry your son.â Elle turned slightly away from the infuriating woman, under the pretense of letting Jesna finish the sleeves. âThat Iâm following through with the Synodâs charmingly antiquated ritual of selecting husbands for Graces.â
Jesna reflexively pulled a face. Her people had never sanctioned the ritual, and sheâd never been able to hide her distaste for Elleâs arranged marriage.Â
Annaria sniffed, âYou know that keeping the Bloodline fresh is crucialâas is the order of suitors. Tainn is, by right of his Blood, the next father of Graces.â
Elle snorted in disgust. She couldnât help it. She wasnât even betrothed yet, and the woman was already trying to breed her like a prize cow.Â
âSo delicate! But then you donât have a mother to explain what to expect on the wedding night.â Annaria smirked at her, âEven so, you must see that what the Vale of Astyria needs more than ever is stability.â She had begun pulling the extravagant bows off the gift boxes. Elle eyed them with dread-filled fascination. What was important enough for Annaria to bring up herself? âEver since your motherâs tragic death, the unrest has increased. These frightful murders, Adronâs mystery diseases. This Vale needs a strong hand. And a certain succession.âÂ
âWhat you mean is the Vale needs your hand.â Elle snapped. The last thing she needed was another conversation about her motherâs death. She found it increasingly hard to play the grieving daughter. âYouâre fooling no one, Annariaâitâs clear you think marrying me to your son will give you the leverage you need to finally control the Synod and, in turn, the Vale.âÂ
The Synod of Light was a thorn in her side. The ruling council of nine was supposed to support her in the day-to-day running of the Vale, but instead they spent most of their time trying to undermine her, squabbling over scraps of power while the whole Vale suffered.Â
âDonât be absurd, Ariella.â Annaria was now pulling small, tissue wrapped objects out the boxes. âYou know full well that the Synod of Light was set up only to serve the Grace by being a balance and a complement to her power. The entire point is to stop one person from having too much powerâeven Graces. Our history speaks for itself.âÂ
A spasm of pain spiderwebbed through Elleâs chest, but she schooled her face to stillnessâher soon-to-be mother-in-law would leap on any perceived weakness.Â
Jesna, however, noticed her tiny flinch, and turned to get some waterâno doubt laced with some heal-all.
The pain was already gone, but it left a dull ache in its place. Elle was ready to bite someone, and she was not in the mood to debate the history of her ancestors and the varying success of their rules with this harpy.Â
âWhy are you really here, Annaria? It canât be just to lecture me.â
âI came to ensure that you werenât getting cold feet.âÂ
âGraces never have cold feet.â
âAnd to remind you to personally thank Terit for the gifts.â A small smile played across Annariaâs face as she pulled a small object out of its fine tissue wrapping. She watched Elle carefully as she placed a golden dragonfly on the table. She steadily worked through the rest of the tissue-wrapped items, uncovering a tall, thin candle, a small, fat squirrel and a teacup.Â
All crafted from gold, and all with a tiny protruding golden key, not quite hidden in the ornate decorations that covered each piece.Â
âIs that what those are?â asked Elle, unable to hide her anger at the clockwork items.Â
Annariaâs small smile spread at Elleâs tone, lighting up her face with devious glee.Â
She turned the key that nestled between the dragonflyâs wings. The hair-thin metal began to move, and the small creature took off from Annariaâs palm and flew across the room toward Elle.Â
Jesna, her Cythian reflexes as sharp as ever, snapped it out of the air and dropped it into a decorative jar, slamming the lid shut.Â
For a few long seconds, the only sound in the room was the tinny clink of metal against glass as the dragonfly battered itself against the side.Â
Annaria responded by simply picking up another of the clockwork objects. âOh, Ariella,â she sighed loudly, clearly enjoying her role as long-suffering mother-in-law, as she twisted the small key on the side of the metal candle. âThis hatred for the Guild is so very childish. You should feel honored that Terit thought you worthy of the expense.âÂ
So thatâs what Annariaâs visit was about. A very unsubtle reminder from the Synod that even now, after two years of playing their game, they held all the power.Â
A small, very real flame popped out of the top of the candle and shone merrily. Someone unfamiliar with the Guildâs work would assume that the candle held a well of oil, but Elle knew differently. The candle should not work, nor the dragonfly. What the guild made was neither clockwork nor magic, but an unholy mixing of the two. And Annariaâthe entire Synodâknew how she felt about them.Â
âThe Clockworkers are trying to undercut our very way of life, and instead of doing your duty, you are their strongest supporter.âÂ
âAre you telling me that you can do better than this?â Annaria brandished the candle at Elle, closing the distance between them. Jesna hurriedly scooped Elleâs train out of the way, as far from the flame as she could. She didnât like these perverse objects any more than Elle did.Â
Right now the Guild just made trinkets for the Blood, but Elle saw the potential behind the seemingly innocuous items. Trinkets were their foot in the door, a way to return some of the convenience that the Vale had lost when the magic had started fading.Â
âIâm saying we donât need it. If you and the Synod would just hear me out on thisââ She gritted her teeth, clamping down on the words that threatened to rush out of her. This was neither the time nor the place.
Annaria had brought these gifts here to taunt her, a reminder that even following the rulesâeven marrying a man she didnât loveâwouldnât get Elle what she wanted. And Elle was playing right into her handsâthe flustered, foolish girl not fit to lead.Â
She took a deep breath, ignoring the dull ache in her chest and said, âYes, magic is fading, but weâre coping well enough without it. And this comes very close to betraying the prescripts against forbidden magic.âÂ
Annaria rolled her eyes. âSo precious about magic,â The heat from the candle was extending further than it should, and Elle could feel sweat pricking on her brow. Unnatural. âOne would think given your own limited ability to provide what this Vale needs, you would rejoice at the successes of others.âÂ
The candle was close enough to touch now, so Elle did.Â
Annaria wanted her angry and desperate? Sheâd give her the opposite.Â
Just the brush of a fingertip was enough to transfer the starmarks sheâd drawn behind her back. Marks for ice, for freezing. The tiny golden symbols crawled up the side of the device, invisible against the detailed body of the candle, but their progress was clear from the layer of frost they left as they crept toward the flame.Â
Annaria hadnât noticed them yet. She went on, âThese gifts from Terit are a mark of good will. A gesture of peace from the Guild to the Synod of Lightâand to you.â Any vestige of a smile had slipped off her face and her deep brown eyes gleamed red as they reflected the candleâs flame. âToday is a new beginning for all of us.â
The flame froze over.Â
Elle couldnât help her smirk. Annariaâs shock quickly gave way to rage. The woman had never seen her do magic beforeâElle had been careful to keep her powers from the Synod.Â
âToday isnât about you,â she said brightly, as if she couldnât see the angry confusion on her soon-to-be mother-in-lawâs face. âAnd itâs not about your alliances with the Clockworkerâs Guild, so unless you plan to wield a needle and help Jesna with the sewing, I suggest you get out of my apartments.â
âThese apartments are only yours by the grace of the Synodââ
âNo,â snapped Elle, turning to look at Annaria straight on.Â
Jesna helpfully dropped the sleeve sheâd been sewing and stepped back. She was radiating glee.Â
âThese are my apartments because I was born to be Grace. This is my destiny, as you yourself point out. And the Vale needs stability.âÂ
She was enjoying this now. Throwing Annariaâs words back in her face. She had tiptoed around the woman for so long that Annaria thought her a snarling puppy, unruly, but ultimately toothless.Â
Elle should be glad that her charade had paid off, that her act of the reluctantly dutifulâbut powerlessâgirl had brought her mere hours away from achieving her goal. Not the betrothal, no, that was an unfortunate side effectâbut everything that the betrothal would bring with it.Â
But she couldnât deny how the act had chafed. It felt so good to finally let her power looseâlimited though it wasâto show Annaria that she had teeth after all.Â
âYou,â she continued as calmly as she could, âAre the one who is here by my grace. You are the elected official. A servant to the office.â She plucked the dreadful clockwork candle away from Annaria. âAnd you have worn out your welcome.âÂ
Annariaâs hands clenched in her skirts but she made no response except the flaring of her nostrils.Â
Jesna was grinning so broadly that Elle thought she might just break into applause. Her people had suffered at the increasingly hostile dictates set by the Synod, and her every move was watched, her Talent as a seamstress not quite enough to win out against the Synodâs determination to undercut herâand any other Cythianâsâbusiness.Â
But luckily Annaria only had eyes for Elle. Jesnaâs joy wouldnât be held against her today.
âI always knew you were more like your mother than you liked to admit.âÂ
Elle couldnât help but flinch at that, and Annaria smiled at seeing her barb hit home. She picked her way to the door with a few sharp clicks of her heels. âBe careful little Grace,â she said softly, her dark eyes shining with venom, âNo one is so powerful that they cannot fall. And we live in difficult times.âÂ
She paused and turned to look at Elle over her shoulder, âAnd remember,â she said brightly, her voice back to its light, casual councilwomanâs tone, âItâs bad luck to be late to your own betrothal.â
This was a lovely, enjoyable read. The writing is poetic, the author is clearly skilled, and the imagery is also gorgeous. The only issue I had with the writing was the occasional extravagancy. Some sentences were extremely flowery and wordy. This was distracting, and cluttered the story when you just wanted to get on with it.
Â
The plot is well structured, with a strong beginning, middle, and end. The excitement isnât always constant, but when there is action itâs fantastic and bloody. If not for some gory violence, I would have thought it was a Middle Grade novel.
The story is extremely imaginative and creative. It's utterly original. I loved that, and itâs refreshing to see, especially in fantasy. The authorâs imagination clearly has no bounds, and I adored how detailed and abstract so many of the fantasy elements were.
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My only big issue with the book is the world building. It is an enticing world â what I saw of it - but the details are vague, and as a result I was confused about the setting and time for the entire novel. I never understood the politics, or the ins-and-outs of the charactersâ titles and roles, and if I had then I would have enjoyed the novel more. As is, I was bewildered. It was all too muddled and elusive. I wanted
concrete ideas, gradually introduced and then fleshed out to form a
three-dimensional fantasy world.
The characters are sweet, although their personalities are simple. Thereâs very little character development, if any, and no oneâs particularly memorable or three-dimensional.
Still, it is a short story, and they suit the length. The good guys are easy to
root for and the bad guys are easy to hate. Â Itâs simple, which is what
you need sometimes.
I wasnât a fan of the romance. Itâs a very small aspect of the novel, but the love interest only comes in the last quarter and thus feels contrived. There didnât actually need to be a romance â I think Elleâs journey would have been better without one.