My, a golden foyer?
How quaint.
I used to have one of these, back when my bedroom tower was still being built. A village had been requisitioned for its construction, the farmers removed from their less important tasks of feeding themselves to aid in its assembly.
It took a summer of work to complete, the tears from the effort requiring a temporary moat to be dug to account for the melodramatic grief.
The final product lasted less than a day.
In the end, it simply had to go. A golden foyer sounded fine in the imagination. Hardly creative, yes, but classical and uninsulting. And when entering my bedroom, I had no desire for avant-garde. Indeed, a grand bifurcated staircase with 247 metres of carpet which wasn’t disgusting was all I desired.
But then I realised I wanted even less.
A foyer by definition gave the impression that guests were invited. They were not. My bedroom was my roofed garden. A castle which even the mockingbirds pecking at my orchard couldn’t penetrate.
And it certainly wasn’t open to visitors.
Otherwise, I’d have foreign dignitaries constantly seeking to enter, sitting upon furniture and sipping from glasses as though they were there to be used.
And if I was truly unfortunate, it would be one of these.
“Hi there,” said Coppelia to a man who’d snuck far too close to her back. “How are you?”
The man smiled, his hand withdrawing with remarkable pace.
“Very well, my lady. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of–”
“You touch my key, you touch my fist.”
The man’s back straightened.
Then, he turned and left.
A fine choice. There were better prospects. All of which his peers were already indulging in.
Indeed, as I strode through the foyer with my loyal handmaiden by my side, I witnessed the sight of the Principalities’ finest flocking to everything which wasn’t nailed down.
The lady in a georgette dress? Reinventing her attire by shoving a painting up from the hem. The group of waistcoated gentlemen? Taking turns excavating a hidden safe from with a chisel. Attendants? Walking to and fro, lightening the purses of those who were likely their own employers.
All of it to the sound of polite laughter.
A day in the life of nobility in the Principalities, that island group of disreputable vagabonds. And now they were here, casually robbing their host as easily as they did my own kingdom.
Oh, I had no doubt few of these could claim to have never visited.
After all, it was easy to see how the Principalities still functioned as a society.
Its leaders simply spent very little time there.
“Foreign nobility,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I kept both hands wrapped around my coin purse. “Each day which passes, I’m further gladdened that I hail from a land of rich culture and laws.”
“That’s right! Your nobility only secretly try to rob you.”
“Quite so. They may have their faults. But they at least they do treason tactfully. This is absurd.”
“Eh. I’ve seen worse.”
“What? Where?”
“In Ouzelia, nobility decide who to war against based on rock, paper, scissors.”
“That’s ridiculous. Losing at rock, paper, scissors is bad enough. They don’t also need to be invaded for it.”
“No, the ones who lose have to do the invading. Nobody wants to invade anyone in Ouzelia. Our castles are super strong. Even dragons stay away. Usually.”
I held up my hand.
“Stop. Say no more. I have my mind full comprehending one nation’s set of nobility. I don’t have the capacity to toil over another’s.”
Coppelia giggled, delighting in the migraine inducing stories she endeared me with.
Indeed, if there was any saving grace to these outlaws, it was that greed was an easily understood motive.
I had absolutely no idea what the ones in Coppelia’s hometown were doing.
“Something troubling is afoot,” I said, bringing matters back to the fold. “A gathering of aristocracy from the Principalities is highly concerning. Some great mischief is doubtless at play.”
“Should we indiscriminately ask what their devious plans are?”
“There’s nothing to ask. They are here to steal, pillage and rob.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible.”
“Image, Coppelia. Once more. But pretend like you care.”
“O-Oh no! That’s terrible!”
“Yes, exactly. And once they are done stripping each other of even the lace in their tunics, they’ll move like a swarm of locusts to whichever land strikes their fancy.”
And my kingdom was the nearest.
Troubling. This was beyond my expectations.
Why, I’d merely come to humiliate a faux prince! Now an entire class of pretend nobility needed to be equally dispatched!
Ugh. Even as a paragon of creativity, I could not endlessly devise ways to remove foes without rest. And to be called dull was as chastening as defeat itself.
“This begins and ends with the Golden Dimwit. We shall try our hand at negotiations first, as our high standing demands. When that fails and the man chooses not to consume the floor in repentance, we can proceed with Plan C.”
“What happened to Plan B?”
“Plan B sees little success. I’ve decided to forego it in the name of expedience.”
“I mean, Plan A never works, either. These guys just don’t find the floor very tasty.”
“Yes, but I have a personal dignity to maintain. One which is constantly being tried. But I shall not have it said that I’m not a gentle princess with an angel’s heart.”
Coppelia blinked at me.
Then, as her lips began to quiver, she covered her mouth with both hands. A bizarre expression from her homeland. But I was nothing if not used to the eccentricities of my handmaiden.
Should the time ever come where I wake up to find my ceiling replaced with the clouds above Ouzelia, I’d at least be able to converse with the locals … if not quite comprehend them.
Fortunately, that’ll never happen!
I could envisage no future where I’d be punished enough by my mother to be sent to that land of falling pianos. Indeed, I saw only the peace of my orchard and the dent of my pillow ahead of me!
Once I was through with ending the piracy menace upon our coast, I merely needed to repair a few more simple issues regarding our national survival before I was free to return to the Royal Villa!
And all this required was to first interrupt whatever shoddy performance our resident … prince wished to star in.
“Ugh, like attending a baron’s first soirée,” I said, approaching the end of the foyer lined with guards. A sealed door awaited. “Whatever hall lies beyond has long been prepared. Having the guests all wait in a desperate drive for anticipation is as tiresome as it’s obvious.”
“I mean, for pirates, it’s not bad, right?”
“There are no shades of disappointment, Coppelia. It is one colour and this is what it looks like. Regardless, the stage has been set. Whatever this Golden … Nincompoop has planned, he waits beyond it, doubtless ready to dazzle his unscrupulous audience.”
Coppelia tilted her head at me.
“Nincompoop?”
“Yes. The situation is dire. I’m running out of insults. We must end this quickly.”
“Got it!~ It’s time to roll up the sleeves!”
“Good. Should any guards accost us, you must be prepared to slap them away.”
“Eh, I might just throw them. Slapping peasants isn’t that fun.”
“T-Truly … ?”
“Nah, just kidding. It’s hilarious. I can’t wait to do it again.”
I nodded proudly, then eyed the set of guards blocking the door.
For a moment, I wondered if they were pirates, given that the rags they wore had slightly fewer creases. And then one of them spat in a display vase.
Lovely.
Still, at least one amongst the staff here did not look like they’d been fished out from the sea and put to work without a chance to dry.
A man in a naval uniform, though the insignia he wore was not one I recognised. He stood at the head of the senior doorstops. Burn marks marred much of his face, yet he still smiled in much the same way as the receptionists from the Adventurer’s Guild did.
I shuddered as I approached.
“Good evening,” he said. “Welcome to the Golden Pearl. May I help you?”
He even sounded like one!
“Salutations. Is the Golden Whoever present?”
“If you refer to the Golden Prince, he is currently preparing to personally welcome all visiting guests aboard his home.”
“Excellent. Please open the door. I need to begin formal negotiations with him.”
“Negotiations?”
I gave it a moment’s thought.
“Yes. I’ll need a written admission of criminal culpability, a formal declaration of surrender, full relinquishment of all assets and a rope with which I can tie him. Possibly to the mast of this ship. Which I’ll also take. Coppelia?”
“Ooh, ooh, ooh … I recommend tying him up to an oar and using his beaten and unconscious body to paddle all the way back to your shore!”
“Hmm. Acceptable. Very well. I’ll need an oar of sufficient size as well.”
The man in a naval uniform smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Indeed … nothing did.
Hmm.
Curious.
I peered at him.
There was something markedly different about this man compared to the common hoodlums here. And not only because he wore actual seafaring attire.
Something about him was … uncomfortably familiar?
I leaned in ever closer, my eyes narrowing.
And then–
Recognition dawned as a familiar whiff, irritating my nose.
Yes … there could be no doubt!
I knew this horrible smell from anywhere! This odious stench!
Why, it was the only blot upon my memories of spending those warm summer days with my siblings upon the cafe terrace!
This man smelled like the sewers of the Royal Capital!
“You … by any chance, are you from Reitzlake?”
The man continued to offer no response. I took it as an admission of guilt.
Irksome. But unsurprising. Scoundrels littered all the corners of my fair realm. Why would they not be outside of it also?
Then, as the doors began to part behind him, his lips finally moved to answer.
“My apologies, but I cannot speak on behalf of the Golden Prince. Should you wish to negotiate with him, then you shall have to do so directly.”
He stepped aside. As did the rest of the guards.
A moment later, a man with tousled golden hair, lamellar golden armour and an undeserved golden title stood in the doorway.
… I almost failed to notice.
Why, amongst a hall of forgettable faces, the face of the Golden Prince was the least memorable. A single leaf of wilted spinach on a spread of unseasoned féroce d'avocat.
Frankly, I could scarcely believe it.
To say that this man was unimpressive was to say that a carrot was mildly unappealing. An understatement which bordered on a lie. He was bland and unkempt, his plain face and dull smile an imitation of a prince.
Compared to my brothers, he was unfit to breathe in the same room.
That such a forgettable man had snatched a somewhat fashionable title was an insult as much as the way he swept past me, arms raised as he gestured to his waiting audience.
“My friends!” called out the Golden Prince. “Welcome to–”
“[Spring Breeze]!!!!!!!”
Poooomph!
The bout of cheers which had risen to greet his arrival came to an abrupt halt.
All around me, mouths were wide open with unparalleled horror as they stared at the freshly made hole in the wall, through which a peasant with yellow hair now found himself experiencing life as a projectile mailbox.
Silence.
Silence and shock.
Only the sounds of a painting falling from a georgette dress could be heard, coins dribbling from limp hands and a chisel still diligently working away at a safe.
Oh. And also my loyal handmaiden, who having found the snacks bar, was choking on an assortment of roasted nuts as she promptly fell atop the table.
“Ahaahahaha … ack, uck, hack …. Aahahhahah … uck, uahh … Ahaahahhah … uck, hahn … ahaahahaaahahahahhahah~”
I lowered my sword, letting out a sigh as I considered the time expenditure required to even reach this point.
Really now, the quality of the foes I had to deal with!
At least mages casting dragon fire and treasonous dukes met some minimum standard of calculatedness to their scheming.
Now it was the machinations of boisterous pirates with a fondness for a single colour scheme. This was not an upward trajectory.
Still, I suppose I had to be grateful he’d assembled an audience for me.
That simplified matters of a gentle warning to all involved.
“You there,” I said, turning to the only person present not to be watching either myself or the hole with flabbergasted silence.
“Chief Officer Tinsley,” he replied calmly.
“Whoever. The negotiations were unsuccessful. Please inform all present that this ship has been requisitioned by the appropriate legal authorities, and that all looted assets must be returned before they’re permitted to leave. Additionally, I’ll require that–”
“Oh, Juliette! What a surprise!”
My back suddenly stiffened as a familiar voice reached out to me.
Unable to believe what I was hearing, I turned to the open door beside me.
“My, how lovely it is to see you! … And you’re out of your bedroom! That’s wonderful! How is Clarise? Has she fainted recently? I do hope she’s eating.”
Before my stunned eyes was a face I knew very well.
It was, after all, quite similar to mine. If not as pretty, obviously.
Florella Contzen, my eldest sister, and 1st Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, beamed an enthusiastic smile as she held a bowl of grapes in her arms.
“Florella?” I replied, head empty. “And … huh? Clarise? She’s … well, no, she’s likely not fine. She’s just started a new project. You know what that means.”
“Oh, gosh.” Florella popped a grape in her mouth. “I do hope the maids are being forceful with her. She really does need to eat. Bones and brains won’t help her if she collapses again. By the way, were you kidnapped as well?”
“Kidnapped? … No?”
“Truly? Then … are you here to negotiate my release?”
I turned my head towards the hole in the wall.
Nothing could be seen past it but a wide crevasse leading to a dark, unremitting sea, swallowing anything to fall into it. Or be punted.
“Yes.”
kayenano
The eBook and Audiobook editions of Book 1 has now been officially released! Yay! I'll do a dedicated announcement chapter very soon, but look forward to a bunch of bonus chapters. If you can, please support the official release with a rating or a review on Amazon. It will mean the absolute world to me as I rely entirely on your support. I hope you enjoy the bonus chapters today too!
Amazon: Here
Audiobook: Here
My, a golden foyer?
How quaint.
I used to have one of these, back when my bedroom tower was still being built. A village had been requisitioned for its construction, the farmers removed from their less important tasks of feeding themselves to aid in its assembly.
It took a summer of work to complete, the tears from the effort requiring a temporary moat to be dug to account for the melodramatic grief.
The final product lasted less than a day.
In the end, it simply had to go. A golden foyer sounded fine in the imagination. Hardly creative, yes, but classical and uninsulting. And when entering my bedroom, I had no desire for avant-garde. Indeed, a grand bifurcated staircase with 247 metres of carpet which wasn’t disgusting was all I desired.
But then I realised I wanted even less.
A foyer by definition gave the impression that guests were invited. They were not. My bedroom was my roofed garden. A castle which even the mockingbirds pecking at my orchard couldn’t penetrate.
And it certainly wasn’t open to visitors.
Otherwise, I’d have foreign dignitaries constantly seeking to enter, sitting upon furniture and sipping from glasses as though they were there to be used.
And if I was truly unfortunate, it would be one of these.
“Hi there,” said Coppelia to a man who’d snuck far too close to her back. “How are you?”
The man smiled, his hand withdrawing with remarkable pace.
“Very well, my lady. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of–”
“You touch my key, you touch my fist.”
The man’s back straightened.
Then, he turned and left.
A fine choice. There were better prospects. All of which his peers were already indulging in.
Indeed, as I strode through the foyer with my loyal handmaiden by my side, I witnessed the sight of the Principalities’ finest flocking to everything which wasn’t nailed down.
The lady in a georgette dress? Reinventing her attire by shoving a painting up from the hem. The group of waistcoated gentlemen? Taking turns excavating a hidden safe from with a chisel. Attendants? Walking to and fro, lightening the purses of those who were likely their own employers.
All of it to the sound of polite laughter.
A day in the life of nobility in the Principalities, that island group of disreputable vagabonds. And now they were here, casually robbing their host as easily as they did my own kingdom.
Oh, I had no doubt few of these could claim to have never visited.
After all, it was easy to see how the Principalities still functioned as a society.
Its leaders simply spent very little time there.
“Foreign nobility,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I kept both hands wrapped around my coin purse. “Each day which passes, I’m further gladdened that I hail from a land of rich culture and laws.”
“That’s right! Your nobility only secretly try to rob you.”
“Quite so. They may have their faults. But they at least they do treason tactfully. This is absurd.”
“Eh. I’ve seen worse.”
“What? Where?”
“In Ouzelia, nobility decide who to war against based on rock, paper, scissors.”
“That’s ridiculous. Losing at rock, paper, scissors is bad enough. They don’t also need to be invaded for it.”
“No, the ones who lose have to do the invading. Nobody wants to invade anyone in Ouzelia. Our castles are super strong. Even dragons stay away. Usually.”
I held up my hand.
“Stop. Say no more. I have my mind full comprehending one nation’s set of nobility. I don’t have the capacity to toil over another’s.”
Coppelia giggled, delighting in the migraine inducing stories she endeared me with.
Indeed, if there was any saving grace to these outlaws, it was that greed was an easily understood motive.
I had absolutely no idea what the ones in Coppelia’s hometown were doing.
“Something troubling is afoot,” I said, bringing matters back to the fold. “A gathering of aristocracy from the Principalities is highly concerning. Some great mischief is doubtless at play.”
“Should we indiscriminately ask what their devious plans are?”
“There’s nothing to ask. They are here to steal, pillage and rob.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible.”
“Image, Coppelia. Once more. But pretend like you care.”
“O-Oh no! That’s terrible!”
“Yes, exactly. And once they are done stripping each other of even the lace in their tunics, they’ll move like a swarm of locusts to whichever land strikes their fancy.”
And my kingdom was the nearest.
Troubling. This was beyond my expectations.
Why, I’d merely come to humiliate a faux prince! Now an entire class of pretend nobility needed to be equally dispatched!
Ugh. Even as a paragon of creativity, I could not endlessly devise ways to remove foes without rest. And to be called dull was as chastening as defeat itself.
“This begins and ends with the Golden Dimwit. We shall try our hand at negotiations first, as our high standing demands. When that fails and the man chooses not to consume the floor in repentance, we can proceed with Plan C.”
“What happened to Plan B?”
“Plan B sees little success. I’ve decided to forego it in the name of expedience.”
“I mean, Plan A never works, either. These guys just don’t find the floor very tasty.”
“Yes, but I have a personal dignity to maintain. One which is constantly being tried. But I shall not have it said that I’m not a gentle princess with an angel’s heart.”
Coppelia blinked at me.
Then, as her lips began to quiver, she covered her mouth with both hands. A bizarre expression from her homeland. But I was nothing if not used to the eccentricities of my handmaiden.
Should the time ever come where I wake up to find my ceiling replaced with the clouds above Ouzelia, I’d at least be able to converse with the locals … if not quite comprehend them.
Fortunately, that’ll never happen!
I could envisage no future where I’d be punished enough by my mother to be sent to that land of falling pianos. Indeed, I saw only the peace of my orchard and the dent of my pillow ahead of me!
Once I was through with ending the piracy menace upon our coast, I merely needed to repair a few more simple issues regarding our national survival before I was free to return to the Royal Villa!
And all this required was to first interrupt whatever shoddy performance our resident … prince wished to star in.
“Ugh, like attending a baron’s first soirée,” I said, approaching the end of the foyer lined with guards. A sealed door awaited. “Whatever hall lies beyond has long been prepared. Having the guests all wait in a desperate drive for anticipation is as tiresome as it’s obvious.”
“I mean, for pirates, it’s not bad, right?”
“There are no shades of disappointment, Coppelia. It is one colour and this is what it looks like. Regardless, the stage has been set. Whatever this Golden … Nincompoop has planned, he waits beyond it, doubtless ready to dazzle his unscrupulous audience.”
Coppelia tilted her head at me.
“Nincompoop?”
“Yes. The situation is dire. I’m running out of insults. We must end this quickly.”
“Got it!~ It’s time to roll up the sleeves!”
“Good. Should any guards accost us, you must be prepared to slap them away.”
“Eh, I might just throw them. Slapping peasants isn’t that fun.”
“T-Truly … ?”
“Nah, just kidding. It’s hilarious. I can’t wait to do it again.”
I nodded proudly, then eyed the set of guards blocking the door.
For a moment, I wondered if they were pirates, given that the rags they wore had slightly fewer creases. And then one of them spat in a display vase.
Lovely.
Still, at least one amongst the staff here did not look like they’d been fished out from the sea and put to work without a chance to dry.
A man in a naval uniform, though the insignia he wore was not one I recognised. He stood at the head of the senior doorstops. Burn marks marred much of his face, yet he still smiled in much the same way as the receptionists from the Adventurer’s Guild did.
I shuddered as I approached.
“Good evening,” he said. “Welcome to the Golden Pearl. May I help you?”
He even sounded like one!
“Salutations. Is the Golden Whoever present?”
“If you refer to the Golden Prince, he is currently preparing to personally welcome all visiting guests aboard his home.”
“Excellent. Please open the door. I need to begin formal negotiations with him.”
“Negotiations?”
I gave it a moment’s thought.
“Yes. I’ll need a written admission of criminal culpability, a formal declaration of surrender, full relinquishment of all assets and a rope with which I can tie him. Possibly to the mast of this ship. Which I’ll also take. Coppelia?”
“Ooh, ooh, ooh … I recommend tying him up to an oar and using his beaten and unconscious body to paddle all the way back to your shore!”
“Hmm. Acceptable. Very well. I’ll need an oar of sufficient size as well.”
The man in a naval uniform smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Indeed … nothing did.
Hmm.
Curious.
I peered at him.
There was something markedly different about this man compared to the common hoodlums here. And not only because he wore actual seafaring attire.
Something about him was … uncomfortably familiar?
I leaned in ever closer, my eyes narrowing.
And then–
Recognition dawned as a familiar whiff, irritating my nose.
Yes … there could be no doubt!
I knew this horrible smell from anywhere! This odious stench!
Why, it was the only blot upon my memories of spending those warm summer days with my siblings upon the cafe terrace!
This man smelled like the sewers of the Royal Capital!
“You … by any chance, are you from Reitzlake?”
The man continued to offer no response. I took it as an admission of guilt.
Irksome. But unsurprising. Scoundrels littered all the corners of my fair realm. Why would they not be outside of it also?
Then, as the doors began to part behind him, his lips finally moved to answer.
“My apologies, but I cannot speak on behalf of the Golden Prince. Should you wish to negotiate with him, then you shall have to do so directly.”
He stepped aside. As did the rest of the guards.
A moment later, a man with tousled golden hair, lamellar golden armour and an undeserved golden title stood in the doorway.
… I almost failed to notice.
Why, amongst a hall of forgettable faces, the face of the Golden Prince was the least memorable. A single leaf of wilted spinach on a spread of unseasoned féroce d'avocat.
Frankly, I could scarcely believe it.
To say that this man was unimpressive was to say that a carrot was mildly unappealing. An understatement which bordered on a lie. He was bland and unkempt, his plain face and dull smile an imitation of a prince.
Compared to my brothers, he was unfit to breathe in the same room.
That such a forgettable man had snatched a somewhat fashionable title was an insult as much as the way he swept past me, arms raised as he gestured to his waiting audience.
“My friends!” called out the Golden Prince. “Welcome to–”
“[Spring Breeze]!!!!!!!”
Poooomph!
The bout of cheers which had risen to greet his arrival came to an abrupt halt.
All around me, mouths were wide open with unparalleled horror as they stared at the freshly made hole in the wall, through which a peasant with yellow hair now found himself experiencing life as a projectile mailbox.
Silence.
Silence and shock.
Only the sounds of a painting falling from a georgette dress could be heard, coins dribbling from limp hands and a chisel still diligently working away at a safe.
Oh. And also my loyal handmaiden, who having found the snacks bar, was choking on an assortment of roasted nuts as she promptly fell atop the table.
“Ahaahahaha … ack, uck, hack …. Aahahhahah … uck, uahh … Ahaahahhah … uck, hahn … ahaahahaaahahahahhahah~”
I lowered my sword, letting out a sigh as I considered the time expenditure required to even reach this point.
Really now, the quality of the foes I had to deal with!
At least mages casting dragon fire and treasonous dukes met some minimum standard of calculatedness to their scheming.
Now it was the machinations of boisterous pirates with a fondness for a single colour scheme. This was not an upward trajectory.
Still, I suppose I had to be grateful he’d assembled an audience for me.
That simplified matters of a gentle warning to all involved.
“You there,” I said, turning to the only person present not to be watching either myself or the hole with flabbergasted silence.
“Chief Officer Tinsley,” he replied calmly.
“Whoever. The negotiations were unsuccessful. Please inform all present that this ship has been requisitioned by the appropriate legal authorities, and that all looted assets must be returned before they’re permitted to leave. Additionally, I’ll require that–”
“Oh, Juliette! What a surprise!”
My back suddenly stiffened as a familiar voice reached out to me.
Unable to believe what I was hearing, I turned to the open door beside me.
“My, how lovely it is to see you! … And you’re out of your bedroom! That’s wonderful! How is Clarise? Has she fainted recently? I do hope she’s eating.”
Before my stunned eyes was a face I knew very well.
It was, after all, quite similar to mine. If not as pretty, obviously.
Florella Contzen, my eldest sister, and 1st Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, beamed an enthusiastic smile as she held a bowl of grapes in her arms.
“Florella?” I replied, head empty. “And … huh? Clarise? She’s … well, no, she’s likely not fine. She’s just started a new project. You know what that means.”
“Oh, gosh.” Florella popped a grape in her mouth. “I do hope the maids are being forceful with her. She really does need to eat. Bones and brains won’t help her if she collapses again. By the way, were you kidnapped as well?”
“Kidnapped? … No?”
“Truly? Then … are you here to negotiate my release?”
I turned my head towards the hole in the wall.
Nothing could be seen past it but a wide crevasse leading to a dark, unremitting sea, swallowing anything to fall into it. Or be punted.
“Yes.”
kayenano
The eBook and Audiobook editions of Book 1 has now been officially released! Yay! I'll do a dedicated announcement chapter very soon, but look forward to a bunch of bonus chapters. If you can, please support the official release with a rating or a review on Amazon. It will mean the absolute world to me as I rely entirely on your support. I hope you enjoy the bonus chapters today too!
Amazon: Here
Audiobook: Here
