by AJ Nuest
A wheeze leaked from between his parted lips, and he put a hand on his chest. “Submit.”
She twiddled her fingers at him and raced for the end platform. Arrows whizzed past her head. A glance at the maze below, and she located the last two guards, each waiting behind the innermost ends of two opposite, identical walls. A narrow gap stood between them, forming the entrance to the Table of Doom.
A spring off her toes and she flew through the air, arms spread high, one leg bent as the floor rushed up to greet her. The crowd gasped as she landed and tucked onto one shoulder, rolling forward to disperse the impact to her legs. Dodging left then right, deflecting a hailstorm of arrows, she ran full force toward the archer, sprang hands over heels and smack, slapped the side of his head with her blade as she landed.
He flinched at the blow and she leveled the edge of her sword across his neck, bent in a crouch behind him. “Load your bow. Two arrows, please.”
He hesitated and she pressed her blade deeper. He sharply inhaled as a bead of blood rolled along the sharp edge toward the hilt.
Muttering a curse, the archer reached for his quiver, knocked back a set of arrows and she squinted, leveraging her threat on his neck to set her sights on her two remaining targets. Yet she must be crafty, aim high enough to clear the walls.
Faedrah pressed her knee into the archer’ back and tipped the bow back until the angle was pitched toward the sky, warranting her satisfaction. “Release.”
The arrows flew from the bow, two black streaks against the lofty clouds, arched gracefully toward the ground and, a moment later, two identical howls of agony echoed from behind the walls.
A smile graced her lips, and she dug her blade deeper. “Are we moving forward the easy way or the hard way?”
“Easy, Your Highness.” The archer glanced at her from the corner of his eye, disgust curling his lips. “I submit.”
“Right, then.” She stood and tousled his hair before jogging toward the Table of Doom. A hearty round of applause showered from the crowd amid cheers and piercing whistles. A glance left then right as she passed through the gap and a chuckle shook her shoulders as both guards bowed low, muttering their surrender. The first one’s foot had been pinned to the floor by her arrow and the second grasped his sword arm, the thick black staff protruding from between his bloodied fingers.
Sheathing her sword at her back, she dipped her chin at Fandorn, standing in the center of the table, and strode forward to stand before him. Full dress regalia adorned the king’s tall form, awaiting her arrival on the wizard’s right and, beside him, the queen had donned her gray leather warrior’s ensemble in homage to Faedrah’s ascent through the guard.
Rhys stood to the left of Fandorn, his black leather waistcoat and breeches stretched across his muscular frame, sunlight winking off the silver vambraces he’d crossed before his chest. A dark scowl pleated his brow, and he shook his head. “Okay, that sucked.”
Faedrah laughed. Her beloved had given his solemn vow he would not employ his powers to interfere in her final test, yet to remain no more than a bystander had surely stretched his nerves to the limit of their extent.
Tipping her head toward the slight injury peeling back the leather atop her shoulder, she arched a brow at her beloved. “A slight nudge to that arrow would’ve earned you much in the way of my favor.”
Rhys unlocked his arms, clenching his grizzled jaw. “Don’t start with me, Princess. It was hard enough to just stand here and watch. Though with the way you move, I gotta hand it to the guy. It’s a wonder he got anywhere close.”
Her mother smiled, linking her arm with that of the king. “Your father and I are so very proud of you, Faedrah.”
The king cleared his throat, nodding. “Indeed, my daughter. No father in all the realm could ask for more from his kingdom’s future queen.”
“Yeah, yeah we’re all thrilled Faedrah just tried to get herself killed.” With a roll of his eyes, Rhys stepped forward and turned about to face Fandorn, taking his place on Faedrah’s right.
Darting a sidelong glance his way, she pursed her lips against a smile. “Speaking of things starting anew…” She lifted her hand and placed it upon her belly. “I have joyous news of which you should be made aware.”
Rhys froze; slowly swiveled his head. A magnetic current vibrated the silver at her back as his face flooded a deep red. “Are you kidding?” He pivoted to fully face her and grabbed her upper arms, his hands trembling, glanced back at the Gantlet and expelled a harsh breath. “Tits of the nine, Faedrah! Are you crazy? Going through the Gantlet pregnant?”
She rolled her lips to curtail a laugh. Her beloved’s use of their effrontery never ceased to tickle her heart.
The queen gasped and slapped a hand to her chest. Her rosy smile bloomed, and she softly clapped. “A babe! How wonderful!”
The king sputtered, swiping a hand down the front of his face. “Helios wept, my boy.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Did you just now conclude the woman you’re about to marry is as headstrong as her mother? Of course, she would contest in the Gantlet before making you aware of her condition.” He tossed that same hand in the air as if he’d long since relinquished any chance at winning an argument with an Austiere queen. “That decision makes perfect sense.”
“Oh, my God.” Rhys whisked Faedrah close, gathering her in his strong arms. He dotted kisses over her cheeks, her lips and forehead, then thrust her away and applied a gentle shake before another round of his ardent kisses heated her skin. “Sweet Jesus, I hope it’s a boy.”
Faedrah closed her eyes, her heart taking flight as her beloved cupped the back of her head in his warm hand. “Sure as shit is slick, taking on another Austiere woman will kill me.”
The king and queen shared a chuckle, and Rhys leaned back to search Faedrah’s gaze. “My crazy, beautiful, stubborn as hell muse.” He brought his lips to hers and she gladly met his kiss. “Just wait until we’re alone, Princess. You’re in deep shit.”
Faedrah’s pulse skipped over all the delightful ways her beloved might exact revenge for such an offense, and she quietly laughed as he applied a firm squeeze to her back side.
Fandorn cleared his throat. “At your majesties’ pleasure, shall we begin?” With a nod from her parents, he called the courtiers to order, and Faedrah smiled into Rhys’ eyes as the wizard opened his hands to his sides. “We are gathered on this auspicious day to witness the joining of two hearts bonded in love.”
Acknowledgements
No author sees a book through to publication without an army of fierce allies at her back. To my agent, Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary, you are part agent, part mentor, part therapist and part fairy godmother. I can't thank you enough for your support.
My heartfelt thanks to talented editor, Charlotte Ledger, who waved her magic wand and granted one of the greatest thrills of my career by contracting this series. Epic love and thanks to Alexandra Allden and Lizzie Gardiner for their outstanding artistic eye and unending patience while designing the covers for this series.
A big thanks goes out to several friends, without whom this story would not have reached its full potential: Arial Burnz, Vonnie Davis, Mackenzie Crowne and Rachel Brimble for their keen attention detail and helping me center my characters.
To the three folks who inhabit the halls of my lunacy and provide a limitless fountain of love and support—my husband Scott, my son Jack, and my daughter Lily Belle. Without you three, I would simply cease to exist. Lastly, to my readers. Thank you for choosing this story. I hope it finds you happy and healthy, and that all your fairy tale dreams come true.
Also by AJ Nuest …
The Golden Key Chronicles
AJ Nuest
am a multi-published, award-winning author who lives in the middle of a cornfield in NW Indiana. My loving husband, two beautiful children and a bevy of spoiled pets have agreed to stay and, in exchange for three rations per day and laundry service, tolerate my lunacy.
While I s
pend most days happily ensconced in crafting romance across a multitude of genres, an underground coup has been percolating. The dog has just informed me the cat is secretly vying for dictatorship.
ajnuest.com
@AJNuest
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