In the kingdom of Vanderdash, there is no more feared warriors than that of the Scarlet Guard. Protectors of the royal family, skilled assassins trained since childhood, They follow the crown, they enforce the crown. To many, the group cloaked in red is a greater symbol of the royal family's power than the kings crown itself. Citizens respect and fear the scarlet guard, the power they hold. But within the guard there is only one who installed that very same feeling into the rest. Head of the prince's royal guard, ruthless and cunning, rarely seen by the citizens themselves. They call her Red. An expert in poisons and deception, the small girl has brought armies to their knees without once lifting a blade. A vermillion haired monster hidden behind the face of a doll. ~~ I smiled up at the men, "Would you like a cookie?" They peered into the basket I held out, spotting the heart shaped treats. "They're cinnamon with apple Jam. I do promise they are to die for." The taller mans eyes narrowed, "did you give the poor fool dead on the road a cookie?" My lips parted, "a dead man? Oh my..do you think it is safe?" "..depends on who you are miss, why did you say you were in the woods again?" I smiled gently, "I didn't." He rose a brow. "I'm delivering these," I shook the basket a bit, "to my dearest grandmama." He hesitated for only a slight second, "oh. well. be careful then. These woods can be dangerous." I nodded once still holding out the basket, "so would you?" "Would we what?" I giggle a bit, "like a cookie silly." "Ah.." he scratched the back of his head, "sorry, I'm not too fond of apples." Damn it. I sighed softly, "strawberry next time then." "Right..." As I turned to go I looked up at the two tall men, "you be careful now too gentleman. There are wolves in these woods." They nodded rigidly as I spun and began to skip off, giggling to myself. He asked the wrong question. I didn't give the dead fool a cookie. I gave him two.

This is the first book of the chronicals of Celeste and Ziah. When the Witch Queen Amara is murdered, Princess Celeste and her best friend Ziah are on the hunt for the killer. Ziah had experienced a similar situation 3 years ago when her own mother, the Witch Queens advisor and closest friend Lily, was murdered and knew that somehow the two murders were tied together. Little did they know that the killer was closer to them then they could have ever imagined. As Celeste and Ziah are on the verge of finding the killer they find out the truth behind the Witch Queens and Ziah's mothers deaths. With a new twist in their plans, Celeste and Ziah must find the killer and bring justice to their families. Will they succeed in finding the killer?

Tratto dal Prologo: In una casa abbandonata fuori dalla città un ragazzo era stato catturato e imprigionato, per sua fortuna non era stato violentato perchè da quanto aveva capito se fosse stato danneggiato in qualche modo colui che l'aveva comprato avrebbe ucciso il venditore. In quel momento, però, non poteva agire e doveva aspettare l'istente giusto per poter scappare. Al sorgere del sole l'uomo che lo teneva imprigionato lasciò l'abitazione. Il ragazzo era legato al letto con un collare incatenato al muro e delle manette ai polsi del quale non poteva liberarsi senza avere le chiavi, ma questo non l'avrebbe di certo fermato. Dalla finestra del piano superiore osservò l'uomo andarsene e quando fu molto lontano agì. Portò la mano attorno al collo, il collare era ricoperto di punte in metallo che gli avevano ferito la carne, ma non poteva toglierlo senza perdere tanto di quel sangue che non sarebbe riuscito ad uscire dalla casa, così provò ad allargare una delle maglie della catena riuscendoci usando gran parte delle sue forze. Stava male e aveva voglia di piangere, ma si trattene dal farlo perchè quello che doveva effettuare in quel momento l'avrebbe fatto soffrire molto di più. Prese un respiro profondo e senza pensarci oltre picchiò le mani al muro con tutta la forza che li era rimasta fratturandosi le ossa facendole poi passare attraverso le manette. Si sentiva svenire, ma riuscì a passare dalla finestra rotta della stanza dove si trovava lasciandosi cadere in un cespuglio dove si graffiò. Ignorò quelle nuove ferite che gli bruciavano e s'alzò scappando tra gli alberi.