Legacy of Glass: A Cinderella Tale

Book 2: Kingdoms of Legacy

by Melanie Cellier

Genres: YA Fairy Tales & Folklore; YA Paranormal

Synopsis

The kingdom of Sovar’s Legacy demands balls and glass slippers, and the royal family are happy to oblige. They’ve been finding ways to contain and control the Legacy’s force for generations. Until it comes time for Crown Prince Julius to choose a bride.

Olivia traveled to the capital to work in her aunt and uncle’s business, not to clean their house. But she isn’t going to miss Sovar’s famed annual ball. Anyone is allowed to attend as long as they meet a single condition—they must dance in a pair of the glass slippers that have made Sovar famous. Thankfully Olivia’s only friend is willing to lend her a pair, and the prince even chooses her for a dance. It would be a dream come true if he weren’t so irritating.

Julius is willing to go along with his parent’s choice of bride because he knows his duty to his kingdom. But instead he ends up ensnared by the Legacy along with Olivia. They should be working together to escape, but Olivia is the most infuriating young woman he’s ever met. She’s uninterested in protocol or listening to Julius, and instead of escaping the Legacy, she’s obsessed with saving her friend. Thank goodness duty requires him to cut her out of his life.

But as they’re forced to spend more time together, Julius starts to wonder if Olivia might be seeing something he missed. If so, his duty to his kingdom matters more than ever. But what if his heart is becoming more interested in the infuriating girl at his side than in duty? What if the Legacy’s trap is exactly where he wants to be?

Enter a world where tales of the past shape the enchanted landscape—where glass can bend like a slipper and picking a rose courts danger. A world where the inhabitants must overcome the fabled Legacies as they find romance, adventure, and friendship.

 

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Release date: May 23, 2025

Publisher: Luminant Publications

Sample

Chapter 1
Olivia

livia dipped her head toward the colorful, fragrant
pile in her arms and breathed deeply. Nothing
made her quite as happy as a bright sun in a blue

sky and the smell of wild!owers. She loved summer.
Squelch. Her left foot landed in something soft, and she
froze. She couldn’t see what it was through the bundle of
!owers in her arms, but she couldn’t imagine it was anything
pleasant.
Drawing a deep breath, she twisted her arms to the side and
peered downward. Mouse droppings.
Her eyes widened. The mice in Sovar were larger than those
in other kingdoms, but she had never seen such a large pile of
droppings. And placed just there, as if waiting for her. With the
!owers obscuring her vision, she had stopped fully into it, her
shoe almost totally subsumed.
She let out a wail. The Legacy might have forced her into
becoming a servant for her relatives, but this was going too far.
Was it really too much for her to be both clean and fragrant for
!ve minutes?
She stared at her ruined slipper and groaned. She had over‐
1

reached. She shouldn’t have gathered !owers the same day she
was wearing new slippers. It was just inviting trouble.
“Olivia!” A girl in the distance called her name, waving
wildly.
Olivia looked up, but with her arms full, she couldn’t wave
back. And with her foot stuck in mouse droppings, she couldn’t
go to her friend either. With a grimace, she pulled her foot free.
The slipper stayed behind.
Olivia laughed. She couldn’t help it. It was such a ridiculous
situation. And it was just like Marigold to arrive at precisely
that moment.
She took several steps away from her abandoned shoe,
wondering uneasily if she should rescue it. It was a new slipper,
after all. But would any amount of scrubbing actually make it
clean? She shuddered.
“Olivia!” Marigold reached her friend and threw her arms
around her neck in greeting. “There you are.”
“Were you looking for me?” Olivia’s mind was still on her
slipper.
“I’m always looking for you,” Marigold declared in her usual,
dramatic way.
“I’m not that hard to "nd,” Olivia said mildly. “I’m not sure I
can even remember the last time I left my aunt and uncle’s
manor.”
“That would be today.” Marigold gave her a cheeky smile.
“If you look around, you will see blue skies and green hills.
You’re currently located on the hill behind both our family
manors. If your aunt and uncle are trying to claim this territory,
I will "ght them to the death.” She assumed a dramatic pose,
one arm raised in the air as if she was brandishing a sword.
“Ha!” Olivia shook her head. “I heard one of my uncle’s
business partners talking with Uncle Walt a few weeks back. He
was claiming your father has more in!uence than the king. I’m
2

pretty sure my aunt would gift you this entire hill in exchange
for one dinner invitation.”
Marigold collapsed on herself, letting out a disappointed
sigh. Apparently she’d been spoiling for the imaginary !ght.
Taking Olivia’s elbow, she dragged her toward the nearest tree,
one of the few lone trunks that sprouted randomly across the
otherwise grassy stretch of ground.
When they reached it, Marigold threw herself on the
ground, her back against the trunk. Only then did she properly
look at Olivia, still with her arms full of "owers.
“Why are you only wearing one shoe?” she asked.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder back toward the enormous
pile of mouse droppings. “The other one had an unfortunate
accident.”
“An accident?” Marigold straightened and followed Olivia’s
line of sight. When she found the droppings—the abandoned
slipper nestling among them—she threw her head back and
went into peals of laughter.
Olivia reluctantly smiled as she carefully deposited her load
on the grass and took a more cautious seat facing her friend.
Somehow it was impossible not to smile when Marigold
laughed, even if Olivia’s own misfortune was the source of her
friend’s amusement. Marigold had that effect on everyone—her
presence was magnetic, if a bit chaotic.
“It’s not my fault,” Olivia protested halfheartedly. “Unless
you count the foolishness of wearing the slippers at all. I should
have foreseen trouble. The Legacy doesn’t like me being too
clean and well-dressed—and even you suffer from the issue of
losing shoes. One at a time, of course.”
For some reason this speech only set Marigold off into
another round of laughter. Olivia eyed her. None of them were
entirely free of the Legacy’s effects, but Marigold had never
been the focus of its power—not in the way Olivia had been
3

since leaving her home town of Henton and moving to the
capital to live with her father’s relatives.
Marigold !nally subsided, wiping at the moisture gathered
in her eyes. “Thank you for that,” she said on a sigh. “I needed a
laugh.”
Olivia winced sympathetically. “Your mother?”
“Actually it was Father this time.” Marigold straightened.
“But I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s talk about something
else.” She eyed the pile of "owers beside Olivia. “Where in the
kingdoms did you !nd those? I was sure the recent hot spell had
dried out every "ower within miles of the city. I didn’t think
we’d see another haul like that until after the next rain.”
Olivia shrugged. “I was skeptical as well, but I wasn’t going
to argue when Aunt Helen sent me out to gather "owers. I think
it’s her way of giving me an afternoon off.” She rested her hands
on the ground behind her and leaned back, tipping her face up
to the sky and breathing deeply. “And it turns out there were
more surviving pockets of "owers than I expected. Although I
nearly toppled over the cliff retrieving one of them.” She shud‐
dered at the memory. She was usually more careful of the small
cliff that lurked at the back of the beautiful, grass covered hill.
“Do you know your problem, friend?” Marigold asked in a
reproving voice.
Olivia didn’t bother to open her eyes. “I’m sure you’re about
to tell me.”
“You’re too good at your job. How can your aunt resist
turning you into a glori!ed servant when you cover the roles of
four paid servants, and make it look easy?”
Olivia wanted to glare at her friend, but the afternoon was
too nice for her to muster anything but mild irritation. And
even if Marigold was giving out unnecessary lectures, it was
still nicer to have her company than not. Any day felt more
lively and exciting when Marigold was present. Olivia could
still hardly believe that the noble girl from the other side of the
4

wall had chosen to befriend her. Apparently she’d never shown
any particular interest in either of Olivia’s cousins.
“It’s because you’re different,” Marigold had told her once.
“I knew the moment I saw your face that I was going to like you
tremendously and that we would be best friends. I’m never
wrong about that sort of thing.”
To be fair, Olivia’s cousins seemed to view Marigold with
equal parts unease and suspicion. The much milder Hattie had
once con!ded to Olivia that she didn’t know which of
Marigold’s dramatic pronouncements could be believed.
If she was objective, Olivia could understand her cousin’s
confusion. If you didn’t know her, Marigold’s manner could
easily come across as insincere. But Olivia had a method of
testing people’s sincerity, and Marigold’s heart was true
beneath her over-the-top manner. Olivia just didn’t want to tell
her cousins how she had !rst gained con!dence in her new
friend—not when it meant the information would make it back
to her aunt.
Not that her aunt was a villain. Olivia had con!rmed that
using the same method. Just as her cousin’s uncertainty about
Marigold was unfounded, so was Marigold’s concern about
Olivia’s situation. Olivia was already well aware that it was her
excellent completion of tasks that continued to be her undoing.
She straightened and sighed. “Do you think I haven’t tried
being worse at my tasks? It’s harder than you’d think.”
“Ah, to be blessed by the Legacy,” Marigold said with a grin.
“Do you think there’s any way I can convince the Legacy that it
should assist me with my harp playing? I don’t mind
performing for my parent’s friends—” Olivia snorted. Marigold
never minded performing. “But I loathe all the practicing,”
Marigold !nished. “It’s so tedious.”
“Let me guess.” Olivia !nally realized the reason for her
friend’s appearance on the hill behind their houses. “You’re
supposed to be practicing right now.”

5

“Obviously,” Marigold said without a hint of shame. “It’s a
beautiful afternoon, and !nally cool enough to get out in the
sun, so naturally Mother thinks it’s the perfect time for me to
practice. It was an unexpected bonus to !nd you here, though. I
thought that so-called aunt of yours would have you locked
away somewhere, working.”
Olivia didn’t bother to protest Marigold’s disparaging
description of the relative who was housing and employing her.
It was true that Walt and Helen weren’t really her aunt and
uncle since Walt was her father’s cousin, not his brother. But
they were a generation above her and had claimed her as a
niece on arrival, something Olivia had no issue with. Marigold,
however, liked to take issue with anything and everything done
by Aunt Helen. She was a very loyal friend.
“I think she sent me out to gather "owers because she felt
bad about my working through the heat the last few weeks,”
Olivia said. “It’s not as if she hates me. She isn’t half as bad as
you always make her out to be.”
Marigold poked Olivia with her toe. “You are too forgiving.
Your supposed aunt and uncle wrote to your parents about
their successful business and said they would happily provide a
job in said business for any of their cousin’s children who might
like to move to the capital. In the business. Not as a servant in
their home.”
Olivia sighed. It was hardly the !rst time she and Marigold
had gone over the issue. “I know that, obviously. I’m the one
who told you. But you make it sound like it was some under‐
handed plan. They really did mean for whoever came to work in
the business. But they were expecting one of my brothers.” She
gave Marigold a look. “One of my many brothers.”
Marigold gave a dramatic groan and "ung herself back
against the tree. “Don’t talk to me of many brothers. Not today.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. She and Marigold had !rst
connected due to their overabundance of brothers, and
6

Marigold often complained of hers. But something in her tone
sounded different this time.
Perhaps something of signi!cance had happened after all,
and it hadn’t only been the threat of harp practice that had
driven her friend from her home. It could be hard to tell some‐
times with Marigold—given her tendency to turn even the
smallest of life happenings into dramatic pronouncements and
high emotion.
But Olivia didn’t push her friend to say more. Whatever it
was, knowing Marigold, she wouldn’t be able to hold it in for
long.
“I’m not saying Aunt Helen and Uncle Walt are unwilling to
employ females in their business,” she continued instead. “Or
that they were unhappy it was me who came. Nell and Hattie
were certainly delighted I was a girl. But if I’d been one of my
brothers, the Legacy wouldn’t have been a factor.”
“What does it matter if you’re a girl?” Marigold asked
!ercely. “It shouldn’t matter!”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter to any of us. That’s
what I’m saying. But you know it matters to the Legacy. You
know the history as well as I do. It wasn’t a boy who was forced
by his stepmother into becoming a servant, only to eventually
go to a ball wearing glass slippers and dance with a princess. It
was the other way around.”
“More’s the pity,” Marigold said darkly. “We would all have
been saved a deal of trouble if it was the other way around.”
Olivia threw her another curious look. Something was de!‐
nitely going on with Marigold. Other than her staunch defense
of Olivia, she had never shown any particular animosity toward
the Legacy on her own behalf before.
Sometimes when Olivia was cooking or cleaning, she
thought about the long-dead Queen Ella, only the second
queen her kingdom had ever had. Had Ella realized during her
lifetime the profound impact her life would have on the
7

kingdom she helped rule? All the founding royal families of her
generation had fallen prey to enchantments that had reshaped
their lives. But had they realized those enchantments were also
reshaping their kingdoms—seeping into the fabric of the
kingdom itself and affecting everything from the plants to the
animals to the crafts that were possible within each of their
borders?
Surely the Legacy had already begun to make itself felt
before Queen Ella’s passing from old age? The history books
said it had started then—exerting its mindless force, binding
those born within Sovar’s borders to their kingdom and
pushing the kingdom’s inhabitants to follow the elements of
Ella’s own history whenever possible.
Of course no one got to live her entire fairy tale-worthy life.
The unpleasant parts would be far less of a burden if you were
guaranteed the happily ever after at the end. But as Olivia knew
only too well, the Legacy mimicked elements from the original
history wherever it could, regardless of the outcome.
For someone like Marigold, that mostly meant she had
trouble keeping track of a matching pair of shoes. For Olivia, it
meant she was currently stuck as a servant in her relative’s
home.
It was the Legacy that ensured Olivia was far too good at
her job to be employed in any other capacity. Her mistake had
been entering her relatives’ home without !nding out more
about them !rst. If she’d known her father’s cousin had two
daughters a similar age to herself, she would have been more
cautious. Once she arrived in the household, how could the
Legacy resist forcing her into the role of servant?
But if she could go back in time and make the choice again
—this time with all the information—would she have chosen
differently?
Her new life in the capital hadn’t turned out how she had
imagined, but that didn’t mean she wanted to return to her old
8

life. She could still easily call up the frustrated, trapped feeling
that had permeated her days in Henton as she approached
eighteen.
When one of the rare roving merchants—one of the few
people who could comfortably travel between kingdoms,
unbound by any Legacy—appeared in Henton, it had been the
most exciting event in her whole year. Avery’s encouragement
of Olivia’s dream to leave her small town and seek a new adven‐
ture in the capital had been enough to decide her—even before
Avery’s gift. But that gift—the means that allowed Olivia to see
a person’s true emotions—had provided the "nal bit of
con"dence.
How could Olivia have stayed stuck in boring Henton after
that—where nothing ever changed and nothing of excitement
ever happened? Even if she could go back, she wouldn’t choose
to miss out on experiencing the capital and gaining a friend like
Marigold.
In that moment—sitting with her friend in the sun, with
the scent of the #owers still in her nose—it was easy to see that
it was all worth it. But she might feel differently next time Cook
asked her to peel a pile of potatoes nearly as tall as Olivia
herself.
A soft squeaking distracted her, and she twisted to look
behind her, a welcoming smile on her face. A soft gray mouse
appeared, unremarkable except for its size.
Marigold, distracted her from her sour mood, stared at it.
“Olivia, your pet got bigger,” she said. “You can see that, right?”
Olivia laughed. It was hard to see the changes day to day,
but she couldn’t deny that when she had "rst encountered the
lone creature, the mouse had been the size of a cat. She was
now the size of a medium dog. Although she still didn’t look
large enough to account for the unfortunate droppings.
“Mildred’s not my pet,” Olivia said. “She’s more like a
friend.” She smiled as the once-wild mouse scurried up to her
9

and pressed against her side, letting Olivia run her hand over
her soft fur. “I think the Legacy is making her smarter as well as
larger. She was my !rst friend here—even before you.”
“I must be losing my edge if there’s any competition
between me and a mouse,” Marigold muttered.
Olivia ignored her. “I do feel guilty about her size, though.
All the changes in her must be my fault. She’s been spending
time with me for nearly a year now and growing slowly bigger
all that time. It’s going to be hard for her to hide herself soon.”
Growing up in a small town in the middle of the kingdom,
Olivia was used to seeing cat-sized mice, usually found with
equally large lizards. But she knew most of them had been
driven out of the capital long ago—a fact that had been
con!rmed by Marigold’s astonishment and distaste the !rst
time she had encountered Mildred.
It must have been hard enough to stay hidden before, but it
could only be getting harder as Mildred grew in size—some‐
thing that was rumored to happen in areas where the power of
the Legacy was strongly concentrated. And Olivia knew it was
her fault the Legacy was pouring its power onto Olivia and
those around her. If Mildred had never befriended Olivia, she
might never have started to grow.
“Only you would worry about a mouse,” Marigold said with
a laugh. “You really are too kind for your own good. It’s too bad
you—” She froze, her eyes widening.
She had clearly been hit by an idea, and Olivia’s heart sank.
Marigold’s ideas had a way of sucking Olivia into their orbit,
and they were rarely what you might call sensible or realistic.
Marigold seized her hand, con!rming her fears. “Olivia,”
she breathed, her eyes shining. “I have the best idea!”
Before Olivia could either protest or express curiosity—she
still wasn’t sure which was about to spill out of her mouth—the
sound of shouting reached them from the bottom of the hill.
Marigold dropped Olivia’s hand and leaped to her feet.
10

Olivia scrambled up after her, peering down at three servants
wearing the livery of Marigold’s family. She bit down on a grin.
It wouldn’t do to express sympathy for the poor men sent to
!nd and fetch the missing Marigold.
“Oh, drat,” Marigold said. “I was hoping it would take them
longer to notice I was gone. I’ll have to run or else they’ll catch
me, and then I’ll be practicing all the way to the evening meal.”
“Or maybe your father is just concerned about you,” Olivia
suggested. “He is both wealthy and in"uential. If you keep
sneaking off alone, you might !nd yourself abducted one of
these days. You’d be a juicy ransom target.”
“Ha!” Marigold grinned. “I’d like to see someone try.” She
threw Olivia an affectionate look. “You do have an odd idea of
life in the capital if you’re worried about that.”
Olivia shrugged. “One of my cousins confessed that she
doesn’t like going into the market alone out of fear of such a
thing, and my uncle is much less important than your father.”
Marigold snorted. “Pure chickenheartedness. You should
tell your cousin not to worry. I’ve snuck away on my own
hundreds of times, and no one has ever tried to abduct me. I’ve
never even heard of a noble youngster being kidnapped, so I’m
sure they’re not going to come after her.”
“If you’re truly not worried, you might want to hurry.”
Olivia watched the men toiling their way up the hill. Marigold
didn’t have long to get moving if she wanted to outrun them.
Marigold spun, poised to take off when she hesitated and
looked back at Olivia.
Olivia raised an eyebrow and waited.
“I really have had the most fabulous idea,” Marigold said.
“Meet me back here when it’s dark, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Olivia didn’t have time to agree before Marigold was off in a
swirl of shrieks and racing feet. The men struggling up the hill
changed direction, heading after the "eeing heiress and leaving
Olivia alone with only Mildred for company.

11

The mouse had sat down beside her, leaning her head on
Olivia’s leg, and Olivia patted her absentmindedly. Mildred
usually avoided people, but she had grown used to Marigold,
and even the girl’s exaggerated actions and noises no longer
sent the mouse running. She really was an unusually intelligent
creature.
“Is it all thanks to the Legacy?” Olivia wondered aloud. “Or
were you always a remarkable mouse?”
Mildred squeaked and burrowed her head harder against
Olivia. But a moment later, the mouse froze. Her ears twitched,
and she surged back to her feet. With a single !ick of her tail,
like a farewell wave to Olivia, she raced in the direction of the
hidden cliff.
Olivia would have been afraid for her, but she knew Mildred
was an expert at survival and familiar with every inch of the
local area. So she rose unhurriedly to her feet and carefully
gathered her !owers back into her arms. If Mildred had left like
that, there must be someone approaching, and it might be
someone from her aunt and uncle’s household—possibly even
Aunt Helen herself. It was time Olivia was returning anyway.
But she had barely started away from the tree when the
newcomer strode into view. Tall, young, and broad shouldered,
with dark hair and light eyes, the strange man approaching her
was certainly not Aunt Helen.

12

J

Chapter 2
Julius

ulius strode up the grassy incline, enjoying the pleasant
warmth of the sun and the slight breeze. The recent hot
spell had made venturing outside the palace grounds an
unpleasant prospect, and he had been starting to feel
cooped up. It felt good to be free again, if only for a single,
stolen hour.
He could have left the palace for longer, of course, but then
he would have had to tell his parents. And if he’d done that, his
mother would have insisted he take guards with him. Usually
Julius didn’t mind being trailed by guards, but the itchy feeling
beneath his skin demanded true solitude.
His father had dedicated his life to serving the Sovaran
people, and the royal family was popular as a result. Julius had
never felt unsafe in the environs of the palace, and he had
picked his direction based on the likelihood of solitude. He
didn’t need guards on this occasion, and he certainly didn’t
want them.
He knew his duty, and he didn’t mind ful!lling it, but it was
exhausting to !ll a role every second of the day. They’d had a
visiting delegation for the last two weeks which meant Julius
13

had been on constant show—needing to perfectly ful!ll his role
as Prince Charming day and night.
The Legacy helped, of course—along with a lifetime of
training on what it meant to !ll the role of Sovar’s crown
prince. But usually he was able to regularly clear his head with
a brisk gallop somewhere talk wasn’t needed—something he
hadn’t managed to do for two straight weeks and hadn’t even
been able to manage that day. But Julius at least wanted a brief
window when no one expected him to be charming.
But as he crested the hill, he realized he wasn’t alone after
all. A beautiful girl stood frozen mid-step, her arms full of
colorful "owers and her wide eyes !xed on Julius. He could see
little of her clothes behind the profusion of blossoms, but if she
was wandering the hill behind Manor Row in the middle of the
day, she wasn’t likely to be a servant or tradesperson. But
neither did he recognize her from court, despite her memorable
face. Perhaps she was the younger daughter of one of the
nobles, too young to have yet attended any court functions.
He sighed internally. There was no hope of getting away
without polite conversation now.
But to his surprise, the girl wheeled around and hurried
away from him, almost as if the encounter was equally unwel‐
come to her. Worry gripped him. Was she afraid? Of the crown
prince?
If he could only speak to her for a moment, he was sure he
could reassure her. But perhaps it was shyness, not fear, that
drove her away. She needn’t have worried on that front, either.
Not only did Julius have the Legacy to aid him, he had been
trained in social interaction since he !rst learned to talk. He was
equally as skilled at drawing out a hesitant conversationalist as
he was at shutting down or redirecting presumptuous or
dangerous lines of talk—all without causing offense, of course.
He watched her retreat with a frown, hating the thought
that his presence made her uncomfortable. His presence never
14

made people uncomfortable. And she was even limping slightly.
He should offer his assistance and ensure she left the hill with a
good impression of him.
He hurried after her, collecting several dropped "owers as
he went.
“Excuse me,” he said, and the deep sound of his voice made
her start and drop several more "owers.
When she tried to lean over and retrieve them, she only
succeeded in losing even more.
Julius chuckled. “Allow me.”
He fetched each of the fallen blooms and gathered them
into a rough bouquet, presenting them to her with a "ourish
and a light grin. She was looking back at him with narrowed
eyes, as if she found him at fault rather than charming. Perhaps
she blamed him for making her drop the "owers in the #rst
place.
His smile fell, and he tried to tuck the ones he was holding
into her arms without upsetting any more or accidentally
touching her. It was a tricky task, but he managed it and
stepped back.
“You appear to be injured. May I assist you back to...” He
trailed off and gestured generally toward the row of houses
below them, waiting for her to clarify which was hers.
“Injured?” Her slight hostility melted into confusion. “What
do you mean?” She twisted slightly, trying to glance down her
body without upsetting the carefully balanced load in her arms.
His eyes followed hers and #nally alighted on her feet. One
was shod in a slipper, the other was bare.
“Oh.” He "ushed slightly and took a small step backward.
He should have considered that possibility. Even his own
mother wasn’t exempt from losing a shoe at awkward
moments.
The girl laughed. At his mistake? At his obvious discomfort?
Both? His discomfort grew.

15

“Are you even Sovaran?” she asked in a pretty, lilting voice.
“Surely you recognize the national one-shoed limp?” She
laughed again.
Julius stiffened. She didn’t recognize him? He wasn’t sure if
that had ever happened before, and it put him immediately off
balance.
“My apologies,” he said, unused to the stilted note in his
voice. “Forgive my intrusion.”
“Goodness, you’re a barrel of fun,” she muttered under her
breath, but Julius caught every word, his ears burning.
Where had his famous charm gone? He had initiated the
interaction hoping to put her at ease, and somehow he seemed
to be doing the opposite. What was wrong with him?
His mind raced, trying to think how to salvage the situation.
The thought of abandoning the encounter didn’t even cross his
mind. Being charming was his job, and he had always been
excellent at it.
Luckily, she had a problem that he could help "x. The entire
population of Sovar had an issue with losing shoes, but Julius
alone possessed the opposite skill. He was excellent at "nding
them.
“Please wait a moment and allow me to look for your
missing slipper.” He attempted his most charming smile. “I
have something of a knack for "nding them.”
“Find my shoe?” The girl stared at him as if he’d demanded
she hand over all her coin instead of offering to help. She
glanced back up the hill, her face turning red.
To Julius’s chagrin, the soft #ush of color that warmed the
girl’s cheeks only served to make her even more appealing,
while apparently he was failing utterly at redeeming himself.
He had seen plenty of beautiful women at court, but somehow
this fresh-faced girl had turned him into a bumbling fool. It was
a new experience.
16

“Yes, it will likely only take a moment,” he said, trying not
to let his emotion show.
Her eyes widened. “No!” she said !rmly. “Absolutely not.”
Julius’s jaw dropped.
“You don’t want me to !nd your shoe?” He could hear the
grating note in his voice, so unlike his usual self, but he couldn’t
seem to stop the words. “Whyever not? Is there something
wrong with it?”
He bit back the addition, Is there something wrong with you?
So far he seemed to be the one behaving all wrong.
The girl’s brows drew together, and she shot another look at
the top of the hill, as if she already knew where her shoe could
be found.
Julius drew back. Was she playing some sort of game with
him? Was that why he couldn’t !nd his footing with her? Was it
possible she did know his identity after all, and she had some
sort of agenda?
He narrowed his eyes, scanning her face for some sign of
calculation or duplicity. If she was trying to draw him in, she’d
chosen a strange way to go about it. And yet he couldn’t deny
that she’d already gotten under his skin. He couldn’t remember
the last time he had participated in such an awkward
conversation.
The girl straightened in response to his scrutiny, her expres‐
sion turning haughty. “I have no desire to retrieve my shoe,” she
said with formality. “And I don’t need assistance to reach my
home. Have a good day, sir.”
It was clearly a dismissal. He stiffened instinctively. He’d never
been dismissed in such a way in his life. But he fought the feeling
back and merely inclined his head in her direction. Restraint was a
familiar friend, and it was far better for him to utilize it now. The
entire interaction had been a disaster from start to finish, and the
best he could do was retreat as promptly aspossible.

17

“I apologize for discommoding you,” he said stif!y. “I
intended only to assist.”
Turning, he hurried in the opposite direction to the girl,
walking almost blindly in his haste to get away. He had always
prided himself on ful"lling his role to perfection and seeing
himself fail so badly shook him to his core. He was the crown
prince of Sovar, and he could not afford to behave more
bumbling than a newborn fool.
“Stop! Wait!” the girl called suddenly from behind him, her
voice tense.
He increased his pace. All he wanted was to get far away
from her. He couldn’t imagine why she would want more
stilted, awkward conversation, but he certainly didn’t. Just the
memory of it made the itchy feeling beneath his skin !are back
to full life. He sincerely hoped he would never run into her
again.
“Stop!” she shouted again, but he powered on, his head
facing forward but his mind on the girl behind him.
When he heard running footsteps, he wavered. She must
already have a bad impression of him. What was more likely to
make it worse—further conversation or his obvious !ight? The
very question hurt his pride, and he couldn’t bring himself to
turn and look back at the face that had managed to strip him of
his most de"ning attribute.
He increased his speed. He just wanted to get away and
forget the whole interaction had ever happened.
The girl’s cries turned into a scream as his next step landed
on uneven ground and slipped away from him. He tried to pull
back, one foot extended into empty air as he "nally saw what
was in front of his eyes. The land in front of him fell away
abruptly into empty space, the gentle slope of the hill cutting
off in a sheer cliff.
His whole body teetered dangerously as he tried to recover
his balance. He tipped the wrong way.
18

Two small hands clamped around his arm and jerked
sharply, pulling him backward. His center of balance shifted,
and he collapsed away from the cliff, falling to the ground and
taking the unseen person with him.
He gasped, his heart racing at his near escape. He was unfa‐
miliar with the open ground behind Manor Row, and he should
have been more cautious. He knew the treacherous nature of
the Sovaran landscape.
The girl—no longer holding any #owers—scuttled away
from him and scrambled to her feet. Dusting herself off, she
stared down at him.
He rose more slowly, his mind struggling to think clearly. He
knew he needed to thank her—without her quick intervention,
he would likely have gone over the edge. But what explanation
could he offer for walking straight off a cliff? Or for ignoring her
shouts of warning? His face warmed, and for once in his life, he
struggled to $nd any words.
“Unbelievable,” the girl pronounced slowly, shaking her
head. She picked up steam. “You’re truly unbelievable! Do you
have a death wish?”
“I—” he managed to say before she shook her head and cut
him off.
“No, never mind. You’re alive and unharmed, and that’s
good enough. I’m late back as it is, and now I have to retrieve all
the #owers.”
Julius glanced back the way they had come. Flowers were
strewn in a long path between the cliff edge and their previous
location. She had clearly shed them as she hurried after him
with increasing urgency.
The girl was turning away, shaking her head, but she
paused, looking at him with a creased brow. “Will you be all
right to get back to...wherever you came from? You won’t walk
off any more cliffs?”
His #ush grew deeper at how obviously incapable she
19

thought him. He now hoped desperately that she truly didn’t
know his identity. “I can assure you it was a momentary aberra‐
tion. I’m not usually in the habit of walking off cliffs.”
The girl raised her eyebrows, as if she wasn’t entirely sure
she believed him, but after a moment, she inclined her head
politely and hurried away.
Julius watched her go, his heart still not returned to its
normal rhythm. He was unsure if it was residual fear or humili‐
ation fueling its thumping.
He knew he should hurry after her and offer proper thanks
for the rescue. But he remained where he was, paralyzed by
humiliation and indecision, until the girl hurried through the
back gate of one of the mansions in the Row and closed the
door "rmly behind her.
He started at the sound of its closure, "nally coming back to
life. But it was too late to go after her. He couldn’t possibly
barge into the house of one of Sovar’s noble families and
demand to see the girl who had been carrying the $owers.
Someone in the household would be sure to recognize him,
even if the girl did not, and then there might be rami"cations
for his family. He’d already failed in his role badly enough. He
didn’t need to continue bumbling around, making it worse.
The best thing Julius could do was get back to the palace as
quickly as possible and pretend he’d never left. With any luck,
he would never see the girl again. Without her $owers, he’d
gotten a better look at her clothes, and while she wasn’t dressed
in a servant’s livery, her clothes weren’t expensive enough to
indicate she was one of the nobility.
She was a mystery he was never going to solve, and he was
content to have itso.
But as Julius hurried toward home, he couldn’t shake the
encounter from his mind. The more he relived it, the less he
could understand his own missteps. What had come over him?
He moved faster and faster at the uncomfortable possibility
20

that occurred to him. The girl hadn’t known his identity, so he
had been interacting with her as Julius, not as the crown prince.
Did that mean the Legacy had deserted him in that moment?
He had always known the Legacy aided him to play the
charming role required of him, but he had thought of it as a
subtle in!uence, providing a "nal gloss to his own efforts. But
now he found himself questioning all his assumptions. He had
given his life to his role, but perhaps he was far less suited to it
than he had ever imagined. And if it was possible for both his
own skill and the Legacy to desert him so completely, when
might it happen again?
He tried to push the thought away. It hadn’t happened
before in twenty-one years, so there was no reason to think it
would happen again. He had met countless people in his life,
and this girl was the only one who had ever discomforted
him so.
The solution was simple. He just had to make sure he never
encountered her again. Since she hadn’t appeared to be a noble,
he didn’t need to fear meeting her at court. And he would make
sure that was the last time he ever walked behind Manor Row.
If he was fortunate, that was the one and only time he would
ever see the girl with the !owers. ...