Even teen evil queens need love. Right? (Or at least a handsome sword-fighting minion to do their bidding!)
***
Bad things happen when Rowen is around and the worst part is, she has no idea why until a massive family secret sends her on a fantastica...
I peered into an old stone well, ancient and thrumming with magic, like something straight out of a fairy tale. The gnarled rope hung from the roof, its edges fraying and dirty, the bucket that must've been there once upon a time, only a memory.
Back then, I hadn't registered how odd it was to come across a crumbling well in the middle of an enchanted forest. Wells were usually in village squares. But this was way before I comprehended such things. All I knew was that the answers I sought were there, at the bottom, beckoning to me with a doleful tune, like a mischievous siren.
Which meant to find out, I'd have to throw myself in and hope I survived.
But what knowledge is worth risking your life for, you ask?
But don't you already know?
Knowledge is the ultimate power,
And power is what I craved most of all.
I leaped.
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I smirked.
Boys are so easy to fool. Soon I would escape and find my dads. Possibly locate a bathroom along the way. And a snack—like a large pizza with extra garlic. This place was super creepy, most likely infested with vampires, and the garlic could be a useful precautionary measure. And if there weren't any vampires, I liked garlic, so not much of a sacrifice.
He smirked.
Which instantly wiped away my smirk.
I looked at my hand.
Empty.
I narrowed my eyes. Was this magic? I could've sworn I swiped his keys.
"Looking for something?" he said, still smirking. Blade (if that was even his real name, because a sword fighter named Blade? Give me a break!) waggled the keys in front of my face, then pocketed them.
I growled a little under my breath. "Smirking isn't a good look for you. Not very chivalrous."
"Just because we're in a castle and I carry a sword, doesn't mean I'm a knight. Plus, chivalry is overrated. The patriarchy created it in ancient times to deprive women of their power."
Could this boy be any more infuriating? I dug my fists into my hips. "Are you mansplaining chivalry to me?"
"Apparently," he said, an endearing, I mean annoying, blush spreading over his cheeks. He held out his hand, palm upward, as if in a show of peace. "Look, new girl ..."
"Rowen, my name is Rowen."
"Rowen," he purred. The warm rumble of his voice created an image of nights by a crackling fire, curled up beneath a soft blanket. I almost sighed but stopped myself in time. No way would I let him know I liked anything about him. He'd just get a big head. Bigger head! "I'd let you out, but it wouldn't do you any good, and it really wouldn't do me any good." He sliced his hand across his throat and looked over at Malcolm, who was practicing his sword moves with an invisible opponent. Malcolm parried and thrust over and over until eventually, he disappeared down the long hallway into the shadows.
