Blood. Romance. War. Magic. Perfect for fans of Throne of Glass, The Red Queen, Falling kingdoms and The Selection.
Alivia Goldeen has powerful magic - not the frail, pretty magic of fairy tales, but the kind that can lay waste to armies, bring dow...
I had never left the capitol before, and was more than frustrated at myself for that fact.
What I couldn't get past was how much green there was in the countryside, staring in speechless disbelief at the dazzling array of plant life. My sisters were the same, also having been born and raised in the crowded city which now lay many miles behind us.
When we went to camp in a small grove of trees near a shallow stream and towering mountain I spent hours just marvelling at the rich canopy above my makeshift bed before falling into an instant sleep, the happiest I had been in as long as I could remember.
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(The Goldeen sister's camp)
Six days later my original cheerfulness had all but disappeared, replaced by a barking discomfort from having been in the saddle for a week. My sisters and I had ridden before, our father worked as a cleaner at a stables in the capitol, and managed to sneak us in to learn before his death, but that had been many years ago.
We simply were not used to the aches and pains that came with horseback riding.
'I'm sorry, but how do armies travel cross-country for miles when I can barely last a week on petty country lanes!' exclaimed Eliza, massaging her legs as we camped on the forest floor for the last night before we would reach The Manga Eskola.
'Maybe men really are hardier than women...' said Cora, cocking her head to the side as if to consider that matter properly.
I snickered. 'As. If.' I replied 'And anyway, there are only a few more male warlocks than female selected every year, and they don't seem to struggle with the travel.'
'She's right Cora' laughed Eliza 'Men are hopeless, and I for one know I'm tougher than any patrician boy'
We chuckled away into the night, not saying any more on the matter. But when I woke up the next morning I realised how strongly I disagreed with Cora.
I'd been practicing self-defence in hand to hand combat daily with a group of boys since I was 9 years old, a reaction to the traumatic deaths of my parents.
Now even the strongest boys in the slums were little match for me if I had a knife or my staff, and I was normally victorious without a weapon.
The boys weren't exactly the nation's greatest fighting prodigies, and those older than me were scrawny and lanky from years of hunger, but the skills I had learned had helped me escape men twice their age and weight. I was pretty certain that most patricians wouldn't be able to beat me unless they were very well trained, no matter if they were male or female.
I awoke early the next morning, eager to set off. We were less than a full day's ride away from The Magna Eskola, Cora having spotted the first wooden sign which indicated its vicinity right before we had set up camp the previous day. I shook my sisters out of their sleep eagerly and although they tried to hide it I could tell they were equally excited. Soon after we were off, riding into the dawn with hope in our hearts, and anticipation running through our veins.
