Child of Darkness
It was easy to slip from the Palace unnoticed, when you knew exactly what to do. A mistake could get you returned to precisely where you did not wish to be—confinement, boredom, the duties of a Royal Heir—but she'd learned from her mistakes in the past. Now, it was nothing at all to duck her governess and gain her freedom.
It was especially easy on this night, when so many Faeries poured in through the Palace gates that the guards would not concern themselves with the ones going out.
And this was why Cerridwen did not object to yet another royal party. She'd complained on the surface, just enough so that her compliance would not arouse suspicion. And her governess had dressed her hair and helped her into her gown, all the while ignoring the expected grumbling and protesting that she had become so used to over the past twenty years.
Twenty years. Really. Who still had a nursemaid at twenty years old? Not even the Humans kept their children as children for that long!
Twenty years, this night, and a party to celebrate it. A party to celebrate one more year that the Royal Heir was not dead. What importance was an heir, really, in a race that did not ... read full excerpt from: Child of Darkness ebook
