Blurb:Power can take many forms, but sometimes the greatest magic comes from inside you.Asha has been a servant for the cruel Duke Bryce for as long as she can remember, and when he married Queen Ilma of the Wind Kingdom, she was dragged to the castle with him and his daughters.Now, the death of the queen has thrown the castle into panic: if her son, Prince Aither, doesn’t marry before his 18th birthday, the throne will go to Duke Bryce.Prince Aither knows he must choose a wife, and he’s resigned to his fate. But Duke Bryce has his own ideas about who his bride should be, and if he gets his way, no one will be happy.Asha is used to watching everything unfold from her place in the kitchen, but she soon finds herself on an unexpected quest set to change her life forever.Meanwhile, Prince Aither must find a way to make the best of what seems like a hopeless situation and use his powerful magic as a force for good in the kingdom.The Glass Stone is a magical tale of hope and love inspired by the traditional story of Cinderella. Sometimes, just a little bit of magic is all you need to change the world.Lose your head in the clouds with Asha and Aither on their magical journey.
Aither tugged Asha down the hallway with so much joy bubbling inside him, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. A pit of anxiety settled in his stomach—what if she didn’t like it? Whatever he did, Aither knew he had to make her stay. Who else could be his queen?
They passed a maid walking up the stairs, and Aither
nodded to her as he passed.
Lyra and Sera squealed as they followed closely behind
them.
Asha followed in silence.
As Aither threw open the doors to the chamber beside
Sera and Lyra’s joined rooms, his smile widened.
“What’s this?” Asha asked, looking around.
Exposed timber beams soared toward the cathedral
ceiling that rose two stories up. Three sets of arched windows offered
breathtaking views from three sides—one of which peeked across the courtyard
toward Aither’s private chambers. A stripped, four-poster bed sat proudly on
the opposite side of the room. Warm hardwoods covered the floor.
“You can decorate it any way you want,” Aither said.
Asha looked at him in utter shock. Her mouth dropped a
little and her eyes watered as they scanned the room.
“It doesn’t get used much,” Aither went on, the
anxiety in his gut sending his heart pounding. “And it’s what my mother would
have wanted. This room should have been yours years ago.”
Asha’s eyes met his and the palpable gratitude reached
for him even though neither of them moved. Moving toward the window, Asha
looked out over the dark horizon, her eyes distant. Tears brimmed her eyes and
streamed down her face.
After what felt like an eternity, Aither stepped
forward. Placing a hand on Asha’s shoulder, she flinched for a second before
relaxing at his touch. “You’re always welcome here. Duke Bryce is out of the
way, for good, and rest assured we’ll find him. He’ll pay for everything he did
to you…”
Asha’s glossy eyes looked up at him, and a flood of familiarity
washed over him.
“But this is your place, your home, too.”
Aither moved to the drawing desk along the southern wall. Turning back around
to wave her farther into the room, he added, “At least, it is if you want it to
be.” He flicked his gaze down to the desk. “We’ll get you fresh drawing
supplies, new, imported from the Mountain Lands—whatever you
want. We’ll fill your closet with whatever you like to wear. I want to give you
everything you want, everything you need.” Aither closed the gap between them in
three long strides and clasped her hands in his. “I want to give you all that stuff,
and more.”
“That’s…” Asha started, her voice cracking and wet, but
Aither hung on her every word. “I’m so grateful. It’s… It’s wonderful.” More
tears streaked her cheeks, and Aither gently wiped them away.
Asha touched his hand with hers and her image in the
clouds flashed in Aither’s mind. Those moments in the gardens, in the aviary,
in the orchards… All those little moments made his heart flutter, and now that
Asha was back, he didn’t want to ever let her go again.
On a chair beside the desk was all the stuff Aither
had gathered from her room—her closet. A picture, a few trinkets and
articles of clothing, a colorful stone that looked oddly familiar. Asha glanced
down at the basket and the wetness welling in her eyes bubbled over.
Aither stepped backward. “We can put these things
away…” He picked up the few tattered clothing items the basket. They left a
grimy feeling on his fingers, and he grimaced. Aither looked sideways at Lyra
and Sera. “I’m sure your sisters will help you choose an array of things from
Taylor’s. Curra’s father is the best in town for anything you might want or
need.” He glanced back down into the basket.
A small charcoal picture stared back at him. It was a gray
outline of a goose as it foraged on the edge of the forest. Was this the
picture she had been painting when he saw her that day in the Wholly Woods?
Faded green covered the tops of the pine and cedar trees. Hints of daisy-yellow
were brushed at the tips of the goose’s plumage.
Still holding the picture, Aither stared up at Asha,
who looked down at it, then back up to meet his gaze.
Aither grabbed both of Asha’s hands. “There is no one
else in the world like you,” Aither said. He gulped and cleared his throat. The
hollowness in the pit of his stomach fluttered in disbelief. “No one who
understands me like you do, no one who gets what the Woodlands are about, what
my family is about…” Tears brimmed his eyes as he sucked in a breath to calm
himself.
Asha’s entire body stilled, like she was holding her
breath and awaiting his next words.
“You are my best friend,” Aither went on. “I know I
can’t make you stay. If you want to leave and travel the world, you’ll have all
of our support behind you. But I hope, I pray, that if you wanted for even one
second to stay, that you would, that you would stay… with me.” On a held
breath, Aither studied her face.
The silence stilled the room as every second of the
night flashed in Aither’s mind. The person he met had been so perfect; her answers
to his questions had flooded him with relief that someone had similar
beliefs as he did—and wasn’t so conceited and only concerned about themselves
like most of the royals he’d met. Like Duke Bryce. He silently cursed himself
that he hadn’t recognized her the instant he saw her, but maybe there was a
reason for that.
As he stared into Asha’s eyes as soft and mighty as a
brown bear, and her auburn hair as wavy and beautiful as a siren from the north,
he wondered what had taken him so long to realize that the pit in his stomach,
the hollowness in his heart and soul, filled a little more in her presence. All
those nights on the castle roof, laughing in the gardens, and exploring the
surrounding citrus groves. Every moment of those memories was irreplaceable.
Now, as their eyes locked, he knew without a sliver of
doubt that she was the one.
A smile cracked Asha’s stoic expression, but Aither
kept his breath held, hopeful.
“I’ll… stay,” she said, and Aither let out his breath.
Their hands still interlocked, Aither pulled Asha into
him. He caressed her face; her soft skin and subtle fragrance of warmth and
pine drew him toward her. Aither touched his lips to hers, and the entire world
melted away. A million tiny moments, all the worries of his kingdom, blended
together at her touch and Aither wanted, needed nothing more than Asha’s
unending touch.
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