QSFer Lou Hermance has a new FF fantasy romance out: The Enemy’s Shadow.
A fae princess and an enemy human soldier. Two women bound by magic.
Princess Deandra of Cairn has been raised to place duty to her kingdom above all else. So, when the council orders her to magically bind a captured human soldier, she silences her misgivings with ease. After all, Kayla of Quentin is the infamous Scourge of Ostraefa — the woman accused of wiping an entire fae settlement off the map.
The spell is meant to place Kayla firmly under Deandra’s control. Instead, it draws the two women into an intimacy they never anticipated.
Deandra expects to find a hardened criminal. What she finds is a traumatised young woman struggling beneath the weight of her past. And behind Deandra’s dutiful exterior, Kayla discovers a princess suffocating under the demands of an unforgiving court.
As captivity and forced proximity blur the line between enemy and ally, suspicion gives way to reluctant understanding — and to a desire neither is ready to face.
With the court watching and war closing in around them, every choice carries consequences far beyond their unwanted bond. To protect Kayla, Deandra must find the courage to defy the kingdom she has spent her life serving. To survive in a foreign court, Kayla must decide whether she can trust the very woman who holds her chains.
The Enemy’s Shadow is a morally complex, enemies-to-lovers, slow-burn sapphic fantasy romance.
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Excerpt
Kayla had said her goodbyes long ago, and it was with a strange, almost peaceful resignation that she welcomed the guards who came to escort her to her execution. She had no close family left in this world, and in a way, it was a relief to think she might soon join them in another.
She was perplexed, however, when they led her neither to the public square, where she assumed Cairn staged its executions, nor back to the courtroom for another humiliating parade before the court. Instead, the windcaster checked her irons twice, shot her a warning look, and marched her through a maze of narrow corridors and staircases to the castle’s upper floor.
Kayla considered making a run for it, if only to force the windcaster’s hand. But their previous encounters had convinced her the guard was far too level-headed to be goaded into rash behaviour, especially if she had been given strict orders to keep Kayla alive. Besides, her weakened state was hardly conducive to running.
She sighed, resigned to playing the court’s games for a while longer. At least she had no doubt what waited for her at the end. She only hoped it would be quick — not that she had done much to deserve the courtesy.
With no say in the matter, she let them escort her in silence, until they stopped before a heavy oak door in a corridor that smelled faintly of soap and lavender.
A silent look passed between the windcaster and the other guards before she pushed open the door and led Kayla inside alone. The vast chamber, with its polished stone floor and whitewashed walls, appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, a communal bath. Kayla tried not to let her confusion show. Execution by drowning seemed a tad outdated, even by fae standards.
In any case, the narrow washing alcoves lining one wall and the stone basins carved into the other hardly seemed threatening. The same could not be said of the two servants waiting by one of the stone tubs. From the sour looks on their faces, Kayla gathered they had either sampled the lavender soap set out beside the basins or were particularly resentful of their assigned task.
They approached without a word and stripped her of her rags and boots with brisk efficiency. Too stunned to react, she let them guide her into the tub, iron bands and all. The windcaster had at least removed the heavy chains, evidently deciding Kayla was unlikely to attempt an escape in her current state of undress.
The servants scrubbed her skin until every trace of dirt and blood was gone. Her hair was washed and dried with rather more force than necessary. Finally, they handed her fresh garments — a loose dark-grey tunic and black linen trousers — before tossing her old clothes into the fire without ceremony.
Kayla endured it all in silence, her confusion only deepening. Did Cairn prefer its prisoners clean before execution? Was this some final mockery? She doubted either the windcaster or the servants would offer an explanation, if their thin-lipped silence was any indication.
At last, she was led up another narrow flight of stairs to a corridor lined with heavy iron doors. Judging by the window at the far end, they had reached the first or second floor of the castle. Her escort stopped before a door traced with intricate runes that shimmered faintly with power.
Once again, the windcaster accompanied her alone into a wide, circular chamber, its walls lined with a band of softly glowing iron. At this rate, she wondered how Cairn managed to source enough metal to equip its army at all, given how much of it was being sunk into magical containment.
The room was devoid of furniture. At its centre, a loose circle of hard-faced fae stood around runes drawn in white chalk across the floor. Kayla barely had time to register the king and prince on one side of the chamber before her attention caught on the figure standing inside the rune circle.
It was the woman from the watchtower.
Kayla would have recognised that blond hair and steady gaze anywhere, along with the rigid posture that spoke more of a soldier than a noble. But now she wore her uniform without a cloak, and there was no scabbard at her hip.
The woman stood impassive, her expression unreadable, though Kayla thought she caught the faintest hint of discomfort in the set of her shoulders.
Whatever was about to happen, the noblewoman did not seem eager for it.
The windcaster guided her to the centre of the circle. Kayla ignored the heavy gazes and murmurs rippling through the assembled court as she passed. Her attention remained fixed on the noblewoman, though this time, the woman avoided meeting her eyes.
This was not standard practice. Rumour had it executions in Cairn were carried out in the open square, with palace mages or archers striking from three directions. Perhaps this was to be a private execution, and the fae woman had drawn the short straw. Kayla almost pitied her.
The same court attendant from her trial stepped forward, and the room fell instantly silent.
‘Kayla of Quentin, formerly an officer in Quentin’s army, you have been found guilty of the deaths of multiple Cairnian soldiers during the battles of Falken and Plauen. You are also suspected of causing mass civilian death at Ostraefa.’
Kayla tensed. The name still struck her chest like a hammer blow.
‘The court hereby sentences you to be stripped of your freedom, your powers and your will. You will serve the kingdom of Cairn until your death — or until otherwise decreed by the sovereign.’
Kayla’s eyes widened in shock. ‘What?’
She was met with silence and disdainful stares.
Author Bio
Lou Hermance is a writer of Mauritian origin who writes sapphic fiction. Drawn to slow-burn romance, morally complex characters and stories shaped by difficult choices, she explores relationships forged under pressure, imperfect people trying to do the right thing, and the complicated spaces between duty and desire.
A wanderer at heart, she takes inspiration from travel, nature and her lifelong love of animals.
The Enemy’s Shadow, the first book in The Cairn Chronicles, is her debut novel.