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511 pages, Hardcover
First published July 29, 2025
"He had the chiseled face and physique of the carved statues that stood outside Saints halls."
"His body was a map of the person he was. It was lean and toned from his running and combat training, knots of muscle in his arms and shoulders and chest. His stomach was more concave than she suspected it usually was, with two hollow grooves either side of his belly button, the sharp V of his hips disappearing into his waistband."
"His hair felt impossibly soft. Every other part of him was hard, honed, a stoic construct against the world, but his hair felt like skimming the bolts of satin her uncles used for the royal cloaks. As her nails scraped over his scalp, he let out a long, slow sigh. She felt the reverberation all the way up her arm."
Pleasure was magic, and magic was pleasure.
But pain was also magic, and magic was also pain, and therein lay the problem.
(…)
Because in a world built on pain and pleasure, there were always going to be those who pushed the very outer limits of it - who exploited the fact that magic could not exist without those twin pillars.
Magic was commanded verbally, and when casting a spell, one had to announce one's intentions. Ans represented honourable intentions, while sen represented ill. An important distinction, a built-in failsafe, making it difficult to injure or destroy by accident.
…was said to be the most powerful mage who'd ever walked Ascenfall. His list of credits included (...) possessing a cock of unprecedented stature. In the dragon mural, the crotch of his trousers bulged beyond all feasibilty.
Almost everyone in Ascenfall was attracted to all genders, and almost everyone was kinky as all hells.
…while Murias the Mighty, who had cast the very first wards around Atherin, appeared to be ogling the resplendent cock with little to no sense of decorum.
Saints, she needed to get to a pleasurehouse, or she was in real danger of mounting any particularly phallic lampposts she saw streetside.
Saffron's eye was drawn by several curious artefacts: a pair of rings engraved with some Old Sarthi she couldn't translate; a neat silver set of what looked like enchanted butt plugs; and a blackwood ornament…
She was no Foreseer, and yet somehow, she knew that she and Levan were at the centre of something enormous and devastating, something that would end in mutual ruin. Something that would not just unmake them both - it would unmake everything.
Then came the axis tilt, the perspective shift, the great pitching of the world beneath her feet.
A thunderclap of terrible understanding.
'Oh', she thought, horrified and fascinated in equal measure. 'This is how villains are born.'