“And you?” Denis asked Fatyan.
“If you let me stay with Yza, my abilities will be under your command,” she replied. “I will be your ear on the walls, your eyes among the people. And I will stay loyal to you so long as you stay loyal to her.”
Fingers smoothing his beard, the king’s dark eyes glazed, running over countless of possibilities. Yzabel’s hand tightened around Faty’s, her entire body on edge.
Then, finally, a nod. “We’ll try. If you can promise me no more lies.”
“I promise,” she said, relieved. “No more lies.”
Denis regarded her for another long moment, then rose with an offered hand.
Yzabel smiled and took it.
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Recipe for Açorda Alentejana
2-4 garlic cloves
A bunch of fresh coriander or pennyroyal, roughly chopped
A pan (six and a half cups) of boiling water **
A loaf of bread, preferably stale/hard
Four spoons of olive oil
Four poached eggs
Slice the garlic, then grind it with the coriander and the salt until it’s a paste. Scrape it into an empty bowl and add the olive oil. My dad always taught me to say, “One for you, one for me, one for the old woman in Quiriquiqui,” while pouring the olive oil into a spoon, and to stop at the end of the sentence—but you can use four tablespoons.
Poach the eggs, then set them aside. Pour the boiling water into the bowl, stirring as you go, and put the eggs in the soup.
On a plate, put some cut-up slices of the stale bread. Cover it with the soup you’ve made above, and there is your açorda!
** You can also boil a piece of cod in the water and poach the eggs along with it—then use the remaining water in the açorda soup.
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to publish a book—well this one required three villages, spread across three different countries.
First of all, I owe a huge thank you to Jen Bouvier for scouting me out of nowhere when I was almost ready to give up, and for being a friend throughout all this. Jen, you’re a star, and every book you touch shines brighter because of you.
Lydia Sharp, who worked their damned hardest with me to make this book the best it could be. Thank you, Lydia, for your endless patience and showing me how to make Yzabel’s story sing to its fullest potential. A huge thank you to my agent, Travis Pennington, for sweeping in to save the day several times. Also, to Russ Galen, for the years of mentorship and advice.
Leonor, and actual ray of sunshine in my life, and the rest of the Ferrão family (yes, Manuel, even you with your bad jokes) for sharing their history knowledge and books with me, but also for letting me cat-sit for them when they’re away. And for pet-sitting for me when I’m away. My cat nephews Matthew and Margot, as well as my great-nephews Scott and Artur, for always making my day a little better. And Mimi and Lucas, who’re now two bright stars in the sky, special to the point I named the dog in this book after one of them.
My second family, the Sanistas. Anna Dooland, Adam “Bunny” Rampling, Amy Parker, Ashton Connolley, Jenn Brown, Lynsey Wood, Nik Nevin, Dmitri and Ksenija Lenselink, Sonja Milicic, Allison “Jordy” Watson, Danica Lundin, Rich Mossop, Lotta Markkula, Toni Green, Artemisia “Arty” Bellamy, Lindsey Glinka, Karen, and Annabelle Gralton. The moment we crossed paths online all those years ago was one of the most fortunate of my life. Thank you for being the best possible friends, and for shining light in every one of my moments of darkness.
To the Walrus Writers, Ron Delaney Jr., Kathleen Palm, Hannah Johnson, Emma Wicker, and Tasha Raulerson, for listening to me moan and cry about this book and the books before and telling me how to make them better.
And to the person who is in both of the above, not just ANY person, but MY person, my sun-and-stars, my Alaskan snowflake, and best fucking friend forever in the whole world: Dana Collins. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you, and never have I wished for instantaneous teleportation to be a thing so I could cross the world in the blink of an eye to hug you whenever.
The Writing the Unreal class at Highlights Foundation: TJ, Steph, Kim, Liz, Laura, Olivia, and Kurt. Unlimited thanks to Laura Ruby, Anne Ursu, and Christine Heppermann for the guidance, and to Highlights itself for not just being a wonderful place staffed with wonderful people, but also for the scholarship that allowed me to go.
My former team at HighSkillz: Edgar, Zé, Fred, Badim, João, Manuel, Marco, and Maria, both for the support, and for being the best place I’ve ever worked. Members of my academic family who’ve always supported me: Sofia “Sofy” Teixeira, Renato Vieira, Francisco Guerreiro, Pedro Mira Lopes, Carlos Margarido, and Pedro “Jola” Nogueira. To my Portuguese and English teachers who’ve always encouraged me to write: Luís Cabanejo, Anabela Tomé, and Teresa Ramalho. To Harry, my teacher at Cambridge Portugal, who pulled me aside and said, “You should really look into being a writer.”
The Twitter writing crowd, and our NaNoWriMo Portuguese group, that are far too many to name, but I’ll endeavor: Dakota Shain Byrd, Parmita, Tylia “Norberta’s #1 Fan” Gardner, Maria Hossain, Kate Foster, Mariana Serra, Jenny Ferguson, Soraia Imperial, Sara Calvim, Mário de Seabra Coelho (sorry about using your name for a minor villain, Mário), Francisco Martinho, Renata Nunes, and Alexandra Freitas. The whole #TheRoaring20s debut group, who made this unbearable debut year better. The Corte do Norte: Cláudia Silva, Sílvia Ferreira, Rafaela Ferraz, Diana Sousa, and Inês Montenegro. Lyn Miller-Lachmann and Carly Heath for keeping my head up above water while I wrote this book, and providing me with invaluable feedback (and, in Lyn’s case, giving me a couch to crash on!) Meredith Tate, for being 100 percent awesomeness, and Mia Segert for her referral, and Cass Newbould and her indomitable spirit and love.
To Miguel, as well as his parents and relatives, for their love and support, and for making Moura feel like home. A special mention goes to Ana, who is like the gamer sister I never had and lets me borrow all the PS4 games she buys.
Mom and Dad, for the continued love and support through this tumultuous journey that was getting a book out. To Grandma Sílvia and Grandpa David, who’re still here, and to Nana Nini, and Grandpa Arnaldo, who aren’t, but I carry in my heart as if they were.
And I know a bunch of you will laugh at this, but I don’t care. I’d be remiss not to mention my cats, Sushi and Jubas, and Norberta, my bearded dragon, for making my life better every day and being the best depression/anxiety shields a girl could ever dream of, but also Tux and Melke, the original cloud kitties who started the cat craze in our home.
About the Author
Diana Pinguicha was born and raised in the sunny lands of Portugal. A computer engineer graduate who currently lives in Lisbon, she can usually be found writing, painting, devouring extraordinary quantities of books and video games, or walking around with her bearded dragon, Norberta. She also has two cats, Sushi and Jubas, who would never forgive her if she didn’t mention them.
pinguicha.wordpress.com
A lush, unique fantasy trilogy about a girl tasked with stealing the prince’s heart…literally, from New York Times bestselling author Sara Wolf.
Zera is a Heartless—the immortal, unaging soldier of a witch. Bound to the witch Nightsinger, Zera longs for freedom from the woods they hide in. With her heart in a jar under Nightsinger’s control, she serves the witch unquestioningly.
Until Nightsinger asks Zera for a prince’s heart in exchange for her own, with one addendum: if she’s discovered infiltrating the court, Nightsinger will destroy Zera’s heart rather than see her tortured by the witch-hating nobles.
Crown Prince Lucien d’Ma
lvane hates the royal court as much as it loves him—every tutor too afraid to correct him and every girl jockeying for a place at his darkly handsome side. No one can challenge him—until the arrival of Lady Zera. She’s inelegant, smart-mouthed, carefree, and out for his blood. The prince’s honor has him quickly aiming for her throat.
So begins a game of cat and mouse between a girl with nothing to lose and a boy who has it all.
A thrilling journey full of magical secrets and swoon-worthy romance, perfect for fans of Stephanie Garber and Mackenzi Lee.
1898, London. Saverio, a magician’s apprentice, is tasked with stealing another magician’s secret behind his newest illusion. He befriends the man’s apprentice, Thomas, with one goal. Get close. Learn the trick. Get out.
Then Sav discovers that Thomas performs real magic and is responsible for his master’s “illusions.” And worse, Sav has unexpectedly fallen for Thomas.
Their forbidden romance sets off a domino effect of dangerous consequences that could destroy their love—and their lives.
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A Curse of Roses Page 30