The Queen's Blade IV - Sacred Knight of the Veil

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The Queen's Blade IV - Sacred Knight of the Veil Page 37

by T C Southwell


  She stared at him, then comprehension dawned, and a wry smile tugged at her lips. "I see. Fair enough." She glanced around at the Spartan chamber. "I shall have the servants bring a cot."

  "Not now."

  "No. Tomorrow." She smiled, looking relieved. "I will see you in the morning."

  Blade grunted, and she left the strange security of his presence to seek the emptiness of her room, wishing that she could take up his offer immediately. She found the Cotti palace to be a cold, inhospitable place, and the attitude of the male servants was far too bold. When she had left Minna and Kerrion to seek her bed, she had found her room dark and uninviting. Shadows seemed to creep up on her, and moving curtains startled her. She had not been alone since leaving her palace, and she missed Blade.

  How odd it was, she mused, to miss the taciturn presence of a man whose freezing glance sent shivers through her. Yet knowing that he was close at hand comforted her, for no man could hope to match the legendary deadliness of the Queen's Blade.

  *****

  The tale continues in Book V, Master of the Dance and Book VI, Lord Protector. Then get the two prequels, Dead Son and God Touched.

  About the author

  T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa.

  T. C. Southwell has written over twenty novels and five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she earns a living in the IT industry.

  All illustrations and cover designs by the author.

  Contact the author at [email protected]

  Acknowledgements

  Mike Baum and Janet Longman, former employers, for their support, encouragement, and help. My mother, without whose financial support I could not have dedicated myself to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke, former agent, whose encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more books being written, including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former agent, who has helped me so much over the past six years, and Vanessa Finaughty, good friend and business partner, for her support, encouragement and editing skills.

 

 

 


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