Making a Tinderbox (The Tinderbox Tales Book 1) Read online

  Making a Tinderbox

  Book One in The Tinderbox Tales

  Emma Sterner-Radley

  Heartsome Publishing

  Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Introduction

  1. Winter Wedding

  2. The Farm, the Apothecary, and the Woman at the Window

  3. Meanwhile, in Silver Hollow Castle

  4. Late-Night Visitor

  5. Prince Macray Intervenes

  6. Saying Farewell

  7. Their First Night

  8. An End that is a Beginning

  9. Travelling

  10. Encounters on the Road

  11. Nightport

  12. A New Day, a New Start

  13. Wherein Elise Searches for a Job, But Finds an Acquaintance Instead

  14. Nessa and Elise

  15. Nightport after Nightfall

  16. Nessa on Core Street

  17. A Moment of Magic on a Rainy Morning

  18. One Week in Nightport

  19. Northmen, a Haircut, and a Pedal Cycle

  20. Sweet Cream and Lemon Water

  21. A Visitor from Ground Hollow

  22. The Goblin’s Tavern

  23. The Scarlet Crow

  24. Fastenings

  25. The Morning After

  26. The White Raven

  27. Searching for Nessa Clay

  28. Game Changer

  29. Making the World a Tinderbox

  30. Mad Heart

  31. Under the Watch of the Moon Goddess

  32. Does Magic Exist?

  Glossary

  Map

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Also by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Available Now from Heartsome

  Available Now from Heartsome

  Available Now from Heartsome

  Published by Heartsome Publishing

  Staffordshire

  United Kingdom

  www.heartsomebooks.com

  Also available in paperback.

  ISBN: 9781999702953

  First Heartsome edition: October 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to action persons, living or dead (except for satirical purposes), is entirely coincidental.

  Emma Sterner-Radley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Copyright © 2017 Emma Sterner-Radley

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my family – for always letting me daydream and thereby building an author.

  Acknowledgments

  Firstly, I have to thank marshmallows and black coffee for getting me through the times when writing and editing was no fun. No really.

  Thanks to my family for always being supportive even though I am not in Sweden helping you or basically being of any kind of use to you. Mamma, pappa, Anna, Torbjörn, Oscar, Victor, Ester. You are so understanding and I am proud to be your daughter, sister, sister-in-law and aunt. I cannot thank you enough. Now, do us all a favour and just skim over the erotic parts of this book. Especially chapter 24 – skip that one. Or at least tell me you did.

  Also, huge thanks to the person who pushes me to fulfil my dreams. The woman who encourages me, worries about me and makes my life unmeasurably better just by being in it, my darling wife. Amanda – without you I never would have gotten to where I am now. I will spend the rest of our lives together trying to repay you. You’re my miracle.

  A very special thank you to my utterly brilliant editor, Jessica Hatch, who improved this book immeasurably with her great insights and expertise at what a manuscript needs. All without ever tampering with my voice or my way of telling a story. After her, the keen eye and steady hand of the heroic Cheri Fuller found any remaining bumps and smudges.

  A set of unpaid heroes helped out too. Shannon Mcclure, Aurelie Gilbert, Miira Ikiviita and Pilar Ortega all read the un-edited draft and asked the sort of questions that I needed to clarify and improve the little (but oh so important) stuff.

  Any mistakes that remain are solely mine. This book needed you all – thank you.

  A special shout out to Frances Craig for reading my first novel a few years back and despite its awfulness – encouraging me and telling me that my descriptions of made-up settings were great. I hope you’ll like the ones in this book too.

  Lastly I’d like to thank, as always, the woman who was so instrumental in shaping my personality and creativity. My moral compass and sounding board.

  Malin Sterner

  1973-2011

  I wish you could have seen this. Jag saknar dig.

  Introduction

  Hello reader. Whether you're a fantasy buff or just opened this book to get to the romance – Welcome to a parallel world! Or a new planet, if you prefer. It’s called the Orb and has a civilisation which is set in a time and space similar to when the industrial revolution began in Europe. (1760 to around 1820 for those of you who slept in history class – hey, no judgement here. I personally can’t remember a single math class.)

  Some things have been borrowed from later in the 1800s, some things are utterly fictional and some things I hope have been borrowed from our future – like the increased diversity and more open-minded values. However, the people of the Orb are still people, so they have found other ways to hate and fear those are different. Read on to see what I mean.

  This book, while being stand alone and completely free of cliff hangers, is the first book in a series called The Tinderbox Tales. This book will focus on the continent of Arclid which has many traits borrowed from Great Britain. Other parts of the Orb will be slightly similar to other countries and continents in our world. Now, Arclid is the name of a real place in our world. If you know of that place, you’ll understand why it was funny to name a whole continent after it. In this book there are many such Easter eggs. Not only for people who know about British geography, but also for history buffs. You do not need to know any of these things to enjoy the book, however.

  It is generally accepted as gospel that those who read lesfic (books for women who love women) tend to not read or enjoy the fantasy genre. Most lesfic readers seem to want contemporary romance books. If you are one of these unsure readers – I'd urge you not to worry. You can just read this story for the romance, the humour, and the suspense, without worrying about all the world-building stuff. If you however like fantasy – there will be a short glossary and a map at the end of the book.

  With that, I leave you to your reading. If you have questions or comments please see my author bio for ways to contact me.

  And of course, reviews are gold dust for writers as it helps us sell our books and keeps us writing. So if you have the time and inclination, please review.

  Oh, and by the way... the good news is that white ravens do exist in our world too. The bad news is that sugar pumpkins do not.

  Chapter 1

  Winter Wedding

  Lady Elisandrine Falk was ushered into the room, and the door was shut behind her with a loud bang. A heartbeat of silence, and then there was a click.

  Was that the door being locked? Have they actually locked me in?

  She put her hands on her hips and sighed. Oh well. There we
re worse gilded cages than this one. A silver clock on the wall chimed, and out of it popped an intricate clockwork bird. It nodded its head as it chirped.

  Its cheerful telling of the time mocked her. The bird appeared to be the only nod to anything modern around here. From what she had seen in the carriage over and in her short march up to her room, this remote castle and its tiny neighbouring village seemed stuck in the past. Not a factory to be seen and not a hint of steam to be detected. It was all trees, fields, and this old-fashioned castle, which was much smaller than the one she was used to. It was all beautiful, picturesque, and utterly wasted on her.

  Elisandrine surveyed the room, taking in the majestic but sparsely decorated stone walls. Centurian marble, known for the pink striation in the white stone, she decided. Just as in Highmere, the royal capitol she used to call home. Her interest in architecture and buildings was one of the few things she remembered sharing with her father. She wished he were here now. He would have put a stop to this infernal wedding.

  She walked over to the lavish bed and sat down, facing the window. She was relieved that it was a single bed.

  So, this is not where I will be living with my husband. Unless he will call me into his room when he wants to consummate the marriage.

  Like that would ever happen. She laughed to herself. No, she would be out of this castle and this dull relic of a village long before that. Prince Macray would have to find some other woman to warm his bed and attend royal gatherings on his arm.

  She had been content as a lady-in-waiting to her highness, so why had the Queen gotten it into her head to marry Elisandrine off to her younger brother? Not only did Prince Macray lack moral fibre, common decency, and a chin — he was also underdeveloped in the sense of humour department. No, thank you.

  Lady Elisandrine Falk had never planned to marry, but if she had to, it surely wouldn’t be him. She wished she were a commoner. Then she could choose whatever partner she wanted, position and gender be damned. Sadly, she was Noble-born, meaning she was to be married off to a man and bred like a prize mare.

  Or so they told her.

  So, she stared out the tall stained-glass window. In the distance, she could just make out the little village of Ground Hollow, which bordered Silver Hollow Castle. She wondered how high the drop down was. Could she escape if she didn’t find a safer way out of this ridiculous marriage proposal in the coming months?

  She sighed again, taking in the lonely room. For lack of anything better to do, she went over to one of the room’s bookshelves. She ran her slender fingers over the spines, trying to find a tome to take her mind off her current situation. Perhaps a book with some inspiration on how to escape a marriage. Or how to escape a castle.

  * * *

  Hours later, she was so engrossed in a book about Noble marriages throughout history, with an interesting chapter about wives poisoning their husbands, that she hardly heard the knock at the door. At first Elisandrine wondered if it was one of the guards that had been assigned to her, Corinna.

  No. I am not likely to get that lucky again.

  She had managed to get Corinna into her room, and her bed, for some fun a short while ago. Afterwards, the guard had sadly become paranoid and assumed Elisandrine’s motive for the bedplay was to be freed.

  While that would have been welcome indeed, it hadn’t been her motive. Distraction, comfort, and the treat of a beautiful woman in the handsome royal uniform — that was what Elise had seen, wanted, and subsequently got.

  No, the knock on her door was unlikely to be Corinna coming back for more, so Elisandrine turned to glare at the offending door.

  “I hear you knocking and I would let you in, stranger,” she called. “But someone has locked the door from the outside, so I am afraid it is not up to me.”

  She knew she shouldn’t be facetious to whomever was on the other side of the door, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t do well with being locked up.

  There was an unlocking click and the door opened, revealing Prince Macray. He stopped in the doorway, adjusting the cravat at the collar of his dress uniform.

  A cravat? I really have stepped back into history. Will he expect me to wear a corset and a big bustle, too? Gods forbid.

  Macray cleared his throat. “Lady Elisandrine. I apologise for that the guards locked you in. My sister ordered them, and me, to ensure you did not get lost. It seems they took that order a little too far.”

  She kept her face stony. “I would say so, yes.” There was no point in telling him that one of the guards had… seen to her needs before locking her up again. It would only muddle things.

  The prince took a step into the room and closed the door behind him.

  “Elise. May I call you Elise? I know my sister does.”

  Your sister is the Queen and my one true mistress. She is as impressive and imperial as her title commands. She does whatever she likes, however she likes. You are a boring, chinless milk-toad without any true power. So, no, please refrain.

  Elisandrine buried her thoughts and simply said, “You are to be my husband, they tell me. I expect you can call me whatever you wish.”

  To her surprise, he gave a pained sigh. “Yes. I suppose so.”

  He slumped against the wall. His skin, a pale pink, looked perfectly at home against the pink-streaked marble. Only his shrugging shoulders in the burgundy uniform made him unable to blend into the background.

  For the first time, he piqued Elise’s curiosity.

  “You… seem unhappy, your Majesty.”

  “I am as unhappy as you are about this match.” He must have seen the look on her face, because he rolled his eyes. “Oh, do not even try to deny it. You look at me like I just sneezed all over your face. You do not wish to marry me, and I do not wish to marry you. Nevertheless, marry we must.”

  This changed everything. He didn’t want the wedding to go through either?

  “Your Highness,” she began hesitantly. “I am not following you here. My mother —and your sister the Queen — can marry me off to anyone they want. But you, you are a royal prince. Next in line to the throne. Surely, you can have any woman of Noble birth to be your wife?”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “Yes, I can. But as I do not want any of you, I did not care which one I was matched up with. It is all a breeding program for keeping the throne and to make sure the Noble bloodlines continue, anyway.”

  Elise raised her eyebrows but hummed her agreement. That much was true, but no one ever spoke of it so candidly.

  He looked at her, as if assessing her. “I suppose we should make pretty little royal brats of various colourings. Your black hair mixed with my blonde. Your oak-coloured skin mixed with my… hmm, what is a lighter wood colour?” He tapped his finger against his chin. Then his face lit up. “Ah yes, birch-coloured skin. Your yellowish eyes mixed with my dark blue. Your striking beauty mixed with my clear features. I guess that was why my sister chose you. Either that or she secretly wanted to bed you and assumed I would have the same taste.”

  Elise stared him down defiantly. “And do you?”

  He sniffed. “I am not certain. You are highly attractive, anyone with eyes can see that. But I hate the permanence of you. If you were forbidden fruit, I might desire you endlessly. However, as I have to have you and only you for the rest of my life, I find you as appealing as healthy bread.”

  Elise stepped into his personal space and snarled. “Then feel free to keep that doubtless diseased breadknife between your legs out of my loaf.”

  Macray sniggered. “Ah, there is the famous fiery temper of Elisandrine Falk. No wonder my sister calls you ‘fire-starter.’ Do not take it so personally. I told you, I enjoy variety. I want a new lover in my bed every night. I cannot stand being forced to have only one thing. There is so much restriction in the royal life. The one thing I was allowed some choice and variety in was what lovers I took. Now, that is all over. No more fair milkmaids or rough stable hands to keep me entertained.”

  He pa
used to sigh. “You know what our culture makes of affairs outside of wedlock. The shame would be too big. Now it is only you. Forever. And you do not even like me. So excuse me if I refrain from pretending to be thrilled about being shackled to you.”

  She took a deep breath to calm herself, clasping her hands behind her back. “You are right. There is no point in pretending. It is better that we both know how we feel. I am as uninterested in you as you are in me. It is not personal for me either. I simply saw myself with another type of partner.”

  “What type might that be?” he asked, his tone showing little else than boredom.

  “The type that has a little more in the chest section and a different configuration between the legs.”

  His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You want only women? No men at all?”

  She put her hands on her hips. She had seen this reaction before.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps a little. Nevertheless, you know the rules as well as I do. Nobility can, like the commoners, sleep with anyone they want. But when we pair off for life, it has to be someone of the opposite gender so that we can procreate.”