PREVIEW

... ring the frost fair at Whitehill Upon Aspen.

The morning of the fair, she woke warm and safe, wrapped in her mother’s arms on the cot they shared in the servants’ quarters of Castle Whitehill. They’d wrapped up in wool blankets the night before, to ward off the winter chill. Even better were the soft furs they had bought on a market day two years ago, from Master Forester, the baron’s woodsman. Liv had asked her mother once - wasn’t it funny that the best hunter in the town was named for ...

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