The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Shea K. M

Author:Shea, K. M. [Shea, K. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult
Amazon: B079143TZP
Goodreads: 50240458
Published: 2018-01-19T08:00:00+00:00

When night came, Emerys was bored out of his mind. How many parties have I sat through? How many times have I heard the same songs played over, and over, and over?

He wanted to growl as he tapped his fingers on the side of his white throne. He stared out at the crowds and watched his people twirl in yet another dance. Thankfully the philtre the Black Swan Smugglers get for us is considerably potent, or else everyone would have lost their minds by now after performing the same dances EVERY NIGHT.

Disgruntled, he shifted his gaze to the shadows of the forest. …I hope Quinn is well. The thought was unbidden and sudden—though not entirely unexpected. Her shoulder wound worried him—even if Alastryn informed him he was acting like a mother hen.

But Quinn was precious to him—and not just because she, against all odds, might be able to break the curse.

Emerys tugged on his mask. That alone, however, is enough to ingratiate her with even the gruffest of elves. We haven’t had any hope in years…. He grimaced. The events of all they had gone through were as fresh in his mind as yesterday. He closed his eyes, and the unbidden memory resurfaced.

The day the elves had been cursed, Emerys didn’t see it coming. He was in Sideralis at the time, trying to avoid Alastryn in favor of joining his three generals in a tavern. He trotted down the street, nodding to those who stopped to curtsey or bow to him. Before he turned into the tavern, he gazed out at the city with a smile, squinting when he saw Evariste crossing Sideralis’ threshold.

Emerys grinned stupidly. “Evariste!” Perfect! If we add a Lord Enchanter to our group, we can call it a meeting, and Alastryn won’t have an excuse to drag me away. He abandoned the tavern and instead trotted down the main street of the city.

When the tall Lord Enchanter caught sight of him, he wildly shook his head, and he walked forward as though something were pushing him from behind.

Something is wrong…. He wouldn’t go anywhere without Angelique. Frowning, Emerys sped up into a sprint through Sideralis.

Evariste grimaced and mouthed the word “Run!”

Ignoring it, Emerys skidded to a stop just short of his friend. “What’s wrong? You look like someone tried to shove a spear up your arse. Where’s Angelique?”

Evariste clenched his teeth and tried to speak. “Run, Emerys!”

Four people stepped out of the shadows of the forest, just behind him: three women and a man. The man snapped, and yellow magic that spit sparks like lightning wrapped itself around Evariste.

The Lord Enchanter fell to his knees with a pained shout.

Emerys pulled his sword from its scabbard and held his left hand out. It glowed pale blue, and the trees behind the intruders groaned and started to sway. Roots shot out of the ground, curling around their feet.

One of the women recited a spell in a dark, sticky language, and fire erupted around the roots, burning them to a cinder.

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