Orphan's Blade. Aubrie Dionne. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Aubrie Dionne
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: Chronicles of Ebonvale
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781616506780
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      Cover Copy

      In the battle for a kingdom, every alliance counts…

      Princess Valoria only cares about her music and her destiny: to unite the Kingdom of Ebonvale with the House of Song and succeed where her father has failed. As if that weren’t challenge enough, she must contend with her marriage to a battle hungry brute of a prince…until she falls for his adopted brother, the orphaned son of a blacksmith. But with a horde of undead gathering to attack Ebonvale, Valoria will have to choose between her personal happiness and the safety of the kingdom. Now the fate of Ebonvale rests in her heart.

      Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Books by Aurbie Dionne

      Nebula’s Music

      Messenger In the Mist

      Chronicles of Ebonvale

      Minstrel’s Serenade

      Orphan’s Blade

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      Orphan’s Blade

      A Chronicles of Ebonvale Novel

      Aubrie Dionne

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      LYRICAL PRESS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Copyright

      Lyrical Press books are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2015 by Aubrie Dionne

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.

      To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

      Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

      First Electronic Edition: November 2015

      eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-678-0

      eISBN-10: 1-61650-678-4

      First Print Edition: November 2015

      ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-679-7

      ISBN-10: 1-61650-679-2

      Printed in the United States of America

      Dedication

      To Piper, the greatest harpist I’ve ever played with.

      Acknowledgements

      I’d like to thank Renee Rocco and Lyrical Press/Kensington for believing in my work. Next comes my agent, Dawn Dowdle, for supporting me through thick and thin. Thank you, Paige, for being such an excellent editor, and to Renee, again, for making my covers so glorious. I’d like to thank my writer friends for cheering me up when things get rough- that’s you Cherie Reich and Christine Rains. I want to thank my flute teacher and life mentor, Peggy Vagts, for supporting me in everything I do. Next comes my parents, Andy and Joanne Dionne, and my sister/best friend, Brianne. Finally, thank you to my husband, Chris.

      Chapter 1

      Shadows

      The carriage rumbled on foreign ground as Valoria touched her finger to the window. Could she ever truly call these lands her home? Ebonvale’s beauty rested in lush pastures and blooming orchards, but nothing could hide the grotesque mountains of the dead country of Sill. Even now, dark clouds clung to the peaks as if evil brewed. Half of Ebonvale’s army had died there defeating the undead.

      Ebonvale. Her new home.

      “Dreaming about Prince Braxten Thoridian?” Cadence teased from the opposite side of the carriage as she pierced her needle through her delicate embroidery.

      Valoria tore her gaze away from the window and glared at her handmaiden. The rocking wheels on the shoddy road had soured her stomach, and talk of her prearranged union churned the milk she’d drunk for breakfast. “No.”

      “Wait until the prince of Ebonvale sees your silver eyes.”

      Valoria pursed her lips. Her handmaiden should not speak with such openness to the princess, and the sole heir to the House of Song. Yet, she considered Cadence the only friend she could trust. Why silence the one person bold enough to speak?

      “And your hair.” Her handmaiden reached across the carriage and ran her fingers along the braid hanging in a loop around Valoria’s ear. “Like silky rays of sunset. I only hope he’s as dashing as you are beautiful.”

      Valoria sat back, out of her handmaiden’s reach. “I do not give a wyvern’s breath if he’s dashing.”

      “What do you care about?” Cadence stabbed an embroidered petal. The red rose in the center of the circle had unusually large thorns. Had she misread the pattern?

      “My music.” That wasn’t entirely true. Her home ranked high in her heart along with pleasing her father. But, her music had always been first.

      Valoria glanced at the top of the carriage where she’d strapped her harp with the strongest golden cord in the House of Song. She’d argued with the Chief of Song to bring the instrument aboard, but Echo had insisted she ride as a lady and allow the minstrels’ trumpets and drums to protect them. Even now, the repeating fanfares rattled her teeth. Best to lull the enemy to sleep with a few plucked strings than call them down from the hills of Sill to blare in their ears.

      Could the undead hear?

      “You won’t need your music where we’re headed.” Cadence placed her embroidery on the velvet seat cushion and folded her hands in her lap. “The Royal Guard, with Braxten in charge, can defeat the most horrid enemies. Or so the ballads say.”

      The mist rolling off the foothills of Sill pressed against the window. Valoria’s fingers tingled and she longed to stroke her harp. “We shall see.”

      She’d never traveled past the forest of Bluewood Pines surrounding the House of Song. Without the mossy trails of glitter motes strung together in the trees by her people’s song, the carriage lay exposed. Even worse, without her harp, she had no defense.

      Cadence had lost her usual sly smile. “What troubles you, my lady?”

      “Shadows.” Valoria traced the highest peak on the glass.

      Cadence leaned forward and rested a hand on her knee. “There hasn’t been an undead attack since King Artemus Rubystone slayed the great Necromancer King three decades ago. Besides, we have the earsplitting trumpets to protect us.”

      A half smile crossed Valoria’s