“Surely not that!”
Our laughter carried across the darkened yard, past the chicken house full of sleeping hens, the red-leafed oak, and the autumn wheat whispering in the field, half cropped for harvest. The wild wind swept our voices all the way to the forest, where crickets sang a new song to the crescent moon. Somewhere, fair folk were having a feast. Others swirled in the midst of a ball. Others still traced the edges of a piece of bark, gazing at their portraits in quiet contemplation. A thin mortal woman packed her books, assisted by a girl with sharp teeth and a well-dressed man with silver-blond hair. Yet no matter what they were doing, everyone in the forest waited with an indrawn breath, waiting for the taste of autumn, the smell of change, the first news of a king and queen unlike any the world had known before.
And we wouldn’t live happily ever after, because I don’t believe in such nonsense, but we both had a long, bold adventure ahead of us, and a great deal to look forward to at last.
Acknowledgments
I wouldn’t have had the courage to pursue publication if my family hadn’t believed in me. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your unwavering encouragement and support. You had confidence in me when so much of the world doubted the validity of my dreams—including myself—and I couldn’t have done it without you. By the way, I love you most times infinity.
Sara Megibow, my agent, is a superhero. I can’t imagine what this journey would have been like without her, in large part because it wouldn’t exist. Gratitude alone is inadequate—Sara, you deserve an eight-thousand-dollar ring made of a dozen tiny Fabergé eggs, and also a private island. I’m working on it.
My editor, Karen Wojtyla, is not only a joy to work with, but understands my writing on a level that constantly surprises and delights me. Karen, it’s a privilege to work with you, even if you did have me take all the pockets out of Isobel’s Firth & Maester’s dresses (you were absolutely right, as usual). Thank you for believing in this book.
I’d also like to thank everyone at Simon & Schuster, including Annie Nybo, Bridget Madsen, Sonia Chaghatzbanian, Elizabeth Blake-Linn, and Barbara Perris, for all your help and hard work.
Thank you to my brother, Jon Rogerson, and also Kate Frasca, for making sure I have a place to stay, feeding me, and buying me the comfiest sweatpants.
I wouldn’t be who I am without my friends Rachel Boughton and Jessica Stoops. You have my eternal gratitude for never being more than a message away, for knowing me like no one else does, and for putting up with some truly questionable writing over the years. I don’t deserve you. Write your books.
Kristi Rudie, thank you for dragging me out of the house for TV marathons. It helped more than you can ever know.
Thank you to the Swanky Seventeens, a community who provided invaluable support during the journey to publication, and connected me with my friends Katherine Arden and Heather Fawcett. You two are an endless source of inspiration and encouragement. Here’s to many more really, really long e-mail chains.
Nicole Stamper, Liz Fiacco, Jessica Kernan, Jamie Brinkman, Katy Kania, Desiree Wilson—thank you for being my partners in crime.
Jessica Cluess, for your advice, even as I fangirled deliriously.
Allison, for calling this book “moist.” You understand.
Finally, a huge thank-you to Charlie Bowater, who did an absolutely incredible job bringing the cover to life.