Vella Cover

A secret curse. An assassination attempt. A life and death mission.

With the threat of war looming over the five kingdoms of Daleskaro, Princess Cyrena battles against a dark magic that invades her mind and restrains her powers. A delicate peace hinges on a rescue mission to a kingdom whose prince is in mortal danger; a kingdom where merely having magic is punishable by death. For Cyrena, the way is clear. She must infiltrate Jedrinyth in disguise, thwart the unknown assassin, and save her childhood sweetheart, Prince Eldrick. 

Danger increases at every turn as Cyrena navigates the political intrigue of a foreign court. Innocents are being killed in the name of conquering magic, with Eldrick leading the charge. As she endeavors to protect him, old feelings are rekindled—despite the differences in their ideals—but soon she begins to wonder if he cares for her, or her façade.

As the assassin continues to elude her, she fears her mission will fail. War is unavoidable if Eldrick dies, but inevitable if Cyrena intervenes through the only means possible—magic. The mission must come first, but is she willing to risk her true self for peace?

Cyrena swung her sword with all her might, holding onto her magic shield with every ounce of her mind. She used her magic for nothing else but to shield her from attack. She wore no armor, only her trousers and blouse, whereas the man she fought was in full knightly mail. She preferred to fight without the metal hindering her movements.

“You’re slowing down, Highness,” The knight yelled over the clang of the swords. She spun to block his sword, feeling the familiar darkness in her mind crippling her.

Clang. She pushed harder.

Clang. She wouldn’t let it defeat her.

Clang. Someday she would rid herself of it. Today would not be that day.

“Go and play, young princess. With the knowledge that nothing you can do will stop us.”

She growled and whirled, sword clashing against her opponent’s. The memory of the spell put on her may have taken place eight years earlier, but it was fresh in her mind as the day it happened. Maybe because it ran through her head so often. The darkness in her mind let her think of little else.

Eight years.

Clang. That’s how long she’d been unable to talk about her experience. Unable to talk about the spell on her.

Clang. Eight years she’d had darkness in her mind, binding her to it, stopping her from being her best. She had pushed against it, struggling to free her mind, though she knew it was a vain attempt.

Clang. She just wasn’t strong enough.

She finally caught a break. The knight’s attention went one way, and her leg flew out, hitting him squarely in the chest. He fell, landing hard on his back. She held her sword to his neck.

“Slowing down, am I?” She mocked, laughing inwardly at the dark voice that seemed to retreat in her victory.

The knight smiled and reached for her outstretched hand. “My apologies, Princess. Apparently not.”

She pulled him to his feet and clapped her hand on his shoulder. His height made it a bit of a reach, but she managed it. “It was a good match. Thank you.”