Blade & Rose (Blade & Rose #1)

Book Cover: Blade & Rose (Blade & Rose #1)
Part of the Blade & Rose series:

Her best friend imprisoned. The right to live freely. Which will she save?

Rielle is a master elementalist, expert in saving towns and destroying armies of evildoers, but she can't get the one thing she wants: answers about her best friend Olivia, who's been out of contact for far too long. On her search for answers, she stops a trespasser outside the Tower of Magic... whom she's assigned to escort across the kingdom. Although she's determined to find a lead on Olivia, passing on the mission would mean losing her contract with her employer--and a forced march down the aisle with the man who humiliated her years ago.

A paladin sworn to piety, poverty, sobriety, and celibacy, Jon doesn't want to be "escorted" anywhere by a hedonistic mage. But when they're attacked on the road and the mage continually proves herself, he finds his resolve weakening... in more ways than one. Rumors of siege and omens of turmoil surface--and Rielle runs straight for them instead of away. And he wants to follow, but doing so might mean abandoning all he's ever known.

With her best friend and an entire kingdom on the line, Rielle must choose whether to sacrifice her future to save that of countless others. And even so, can one mage and her friends save an entire kingdom from armies, or will Emaurria fall?

Blade & Rose is a romantic fantasy adventure set in a medieval world sensual and dark, full of magic and greed, love and blades, where factions vie for influence and there are no easy choices. If you enjoy epic fantasy, romance, and a strong heroine who never gives up, you'll love this first book in the Blade & Rose series.

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Out the fifth-story window, or not at all.

Rielle sprang from the bed and grabbed one of her mage coats, white wool with the Master Mage’s four-bar chevron on the sleeves, and fastened the double rows of buttons from neck to hip. Gloves next. After all, she didn’t want the glow of spellcasting to give her away. She slipped her hands into the wool-lined black leather and flexed her fingers. A new pair. The heat of her pyromancy last mission had deteriorated the previous set.

With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished the fireplace, willing the flame away. Then the candles, one by one, until only darkness and the faint silvery glow of the gibbous moon remained. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and opened the window latch.

If one of the guards on wall duty looked at the Tower instead of out at the gates and the surrounding wilds . . . A Master Mage jumping out her window would not go unreported.


Her gaze darted to the crystal goblet on her desk, and Olivia’s latest letter beneath it, bearing the same runic protection she and Olivia always used. Rielle had read it a dozen times already and replied three weeks ago.
Olivia’s response from the capital should have arrived by now. And no one was punctual like Olivia. Rielle had notified the Proctor of the Emaurrian Tower of Magic about Olivia’s long-overdue letter, had asked about word from the capital, and had gotten exactly nothing as an answer. Either no one knew or no one cared.

But tonight, she’d get her answer—from a contact outside the Tower. A werewolf. The kind of monster thought to exist only in fairy tales. The kind of monster that incited mobs bearing torches and pitchforks.

The full moon was a week away, so she had to meet Brennan before then anyway. If she didn’t, he’d have no control over his Change when it came. As much as she despised Brennan, she didn’t want him to turn into an uncontrollable monster, possibly killing innocent people and endangering himself. Papa had always told her, Leave well enough alone. The lesson, however, had never taken.

And so she’d be seeing Brennan. Perhaps he’d even have some answers about Olivia, or at least about the capital.

She tapped the window frame. If she got caught, she would never see anything but the inside of a dungeon ever again, and Brennan—well, mobs were unkind.

Her boot perched on the parapet, she peered at the ground. Dark. Quiet. Empty. Farther from the Tower, torches illuminated the walls of the inner bailey, and farther yet, they dotted the walls of the outer bailey and the gates. Beyond, white pines challenged the midnight sky, their peaks silvered by the aloof moon’s gaze. The forest—that was her destination.

An early autumn wind riffled her coat. She shivered, eyeing the five-story drop as she climbed onto the parapet. With a curl of her index and middle fingers, she called an updraft strong enough to catch her and held it. This better work.

She jumped.


About Author

Miranda Honfleur

Author, reader, nerd :)