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    Entangled: Cursed Magic Series, #2.5
    Entangled: Cursed Magic Series, #2.5
    Entangled: Cursed Magic Series, #2.5
    Ebook109 pages1 hour

    Entangled: Cursed Magic Series, #2.5

    By Casey Odell

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    Set two years before the events in Cursed, Entangled follows Claire as she navigates through her seemingly normal life where things are about to get a bit more difficult.

    Take a sneak peek into the life of Farron when he was Sin de Reine, The King's Shadow.


    Short story. Approx 23,000 words.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCasey Odell
    Release dateDec 4, 2013
    ISBN9781513042930
    Entangled: Cursed Magic Series, #2.5
    Author

    Casey Odell

    Hello all! I may be young, but I have been making up stories all of my life, so I guess it's time I started to share them with the world. Born and raised in Florida since 1988. I may be southern, but I'm not a Cracker! 'Cursed' is my first real book, and definitely not the last!

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      Book preview

      Entangled - Casey Odell

      Sketch2841548

      The hour was late and the tavern was bustling. A fire burned in the hearth across the room to help keep the cool of the night at bay. Simple candle chandeliers filled the rest of the room with a warm flickering light. Men sat scattered around the tables and chairs, talking and laughing about the day’s events, while two tavern maids hurried between them. Off-duty members of the town’s defense squadron sat at a table in the corner, singing a joyful tune, celebrating a young man’s last days of freedom before he, according to their lively song, jumped into the turbulent waters of marriage.

      Claire stood behind the bar with a slight smile, drying wooden mugs, and just shook her head. She’d just turned sixteen the previous week, already an old maid by many people’s standards. And yet the only marriage proposals she’d ever received were from drunken old men three times her age, most of which could never seem to get her name right. Or from men so shifty that she wasn’t certain she would survive the wedding night.

      No, all the quality men—if she could even call them that—tended to gravitate towards the star of The Blazing Stallion: her mother, Marion Tanith. Barely a week went by that she didn’t receive some sort of offer, sincere or not.

      Claire glanced across the room at her mother. She stood, leaning forward on the bar talking to an older male patron with graying hair. Her red locks were pulled back from her face, revealing high cheekbones, full lips, and bright green eyes. A strikingly mature face, but one that hardly spoke her true age. Neither a line nor a gray hair had sprung up to mar her beauty—a beauty Claire would never inherit, no matter how much she wished.

      Why the long face, little one?

      Claire jerked her attention to the old man sitting at the bar in front of her. A gray beard covered most of his face, neatly trimmed, the rest of the brown hair on his head fighting a losing battle against the silver hue. A modest tan jacket hung on his shoulders, belying his true status. He was one of the wealthier patrons that came into their establishment, though how wealthy she could never really tell. His name was Mr. Farthis, and he came into the tavern every month or so while he was on his trade route. He had always sat on the end seat near Claire for as long as she could remember, and although they would talk, he never revealed too much about himself. He was secretive, and it drove Claire crazy.

      It’s nothing, she told him. She liked to try and keep her own secrets from him, but it never lasted long. He was able to pry them out of her some way or another.

      He smiled, wrinkles forming at the corners of his chocolate eyes. You’re as easy to see through as a pane of glass. He raised his mug up and took a sip of the dark ale, a bandage on his right wrist showing from underneath his sleeve. He was always getting injured, it seemed. For as long as she could remember seeing him, he had always had some sort of injury.

      It’s just, she started and looked at him. Is there something wrong with me?

      He gave her a quick once over. You look fine to me.

      Claire sighed and glanced past him to the so-called doomed future groom, so happy and… drunk. She wondered briefly who the lucky lady was.

      Mr. Farthis gave a short laugh. Still waiting for your storybook prince to come and sweep you off your feet, eh?

      She shot him a sharp look. A girl can dream, right? she asked, picking up another mug to clean.

      A dream is all it may be if you don’t give anyone a chance.

      Is it too much to ask for a little gallantry? she asked, squaring her shoulders. She glanced around the room and shuddered. There certainly weren’t any princes in their tavern tonight.

      Are you sure your standards just aren’t too high? He raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer over the bar and looked her up and down.

      Unlike their tavern maids in low-cut flattering dresses, her outfit consisted of simple boots, slacks, and shirt, like her mother usually wore. Her hair hung in a single braid over her shoulder instead of free and flowing. Though comfortable for the long hours in the tavern, she certainly wasn’t going to attract the opposite sex’s attention, that was for sure.

      I don’t mean to offend, my little chickadee, but you’re not exactly in the city here, and last I checked your status is a bit on the lacking side, I’m afraid. If you are waiting for a man of princely proportions, you’ll be in for a long wait indeed. A man like that is rare in the first place. One in your class, in this town, well… you’d have better luck finding gold in your backyard, I’d say. There’s a reason those sorts of men only exist in storybooks.

      You sure do know how to make a girl feel better, she said, frowning.

      I could fill your head with sweet little lies, but I’m feeling rather generous this evening. It’s better to see the truth than live your life in delusion, no?

      I suppose.

      I’d offer to marry you myself but I think I’m a little too old for your tastes. He smiled at her. Besides, I think you’ve already turned me down more than once if I recall correctly. And I don’t think my current wife would very much appreciate it either.

      She couldn’t help but smile at that. He had offered on more than one occasion, but it had always been in jest. How is Sandera?

      Lively as usual, he said, settling back on his stool. He ran a hand down his face. She told me not to return home unless I brought some pearls from Alexos. They’re all the rage in Lendon these days, I hear.

      And as a good husband you should! she teased. And you should bring some for me as well for always having to put up with you!

      He chuckled. I feel for the poor soul whose heart you capture.

      Now aren’t you glad I have never taken you up on your offer?

      Indeed, he said, smiling. Two wives would surely be the death of me.

      Four more of the brown ale, came a female voice from across the counter.

      Which one? Claire asked, turning to Laura, one of the barmaids. She’d worked at their tavern for the past five years. The longest any had stayed before moving on to something else, usually marriage to an amorous patron, or running off with a merchant or musician. With a full bosom, long curling blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, it was a wonder that she hadn’t found a husband yet. Claire liked to think that the woman cherished her freedom and all the attention she got. Or perhaps she was waiting for the right person

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