Syrella was born to nobility and cursed by her talent. The last thing she expected was to be called to power.

Syrella was a talent in a noble family where talents were not normally accepted. Her parents decided that learning how to control her skills would be better for her than being shunned at home, so they sent her to the Citadel school at Thoola. Sy learned everything she could, including the surprising side benefit to her talent and shifted from student to instructor as the years passed.

Sy receives a call that changes her life. She is the last inheritor of an ancient throne, and she must leave the Citadel immediately.

Dorium is the bodyguard that the Citadel assigns to her and he just happens to be the man that Sy has had a crush on all her life.

Death threats, greedy nobility and facing a deadly grandmother are all precursors to the one thing she is looking forward to, the Vexa Day of the Dead.

Excerpt:

It was less than five minutes until Wadara was standing next to Syrella, taking her by the hand and leading her into the privacy of the headmistress’s office. “What has happened?”

Sy shivered and took the cup of tea Wadara handed her. “I politely request that you contact Vexa to determine the identity of the current ruler. My grandmother called, and I am sure she must be mistaken.”

Wadara’s voice was low and her touch on Sy’s mind was delicate. Wadara’s mind was always welcome so Syrella let her in. “Oh. Oh dear. Yes, I will call the Morganti Citadel and ask them to run the request for information through Relay.”

“Please.”

Wadara was as good as her word. She was an Admaryn mix, but the elven traits were still very strong in her appearance. Her skin was a pale green, hair a rippling gold and her ears were tipped with points that twitched when she was agitated. They were twitching now.

She used the priority com and sent the message to Morganti where their new Citadel officers could send it on to Relay. Relay would then confirm any information floating around in the available universe and forward the reply back to Thoola.

Three cups of hot tea later, Wadara got a ping. “Syrella, I am sorry to tell you that while your grandmother was tactless, she was correct. You are the only living heir to the imperial throne of Vexa and its properties. You are the new empress.”

“How in the seventeen hells am I supposed to do that?” She ran her hand over her hair and looked for an answer in her cup of tea. The tea was not forthcoming.

“The same way you became an instructor while you were still a student. Learn what you can and then teach others what you know, and when in doubt, use that talent of yours to freeze them in their tracks.” Wadara sat back. “They are sending a vessel for you.”

“Oh, wonderful. I can hardly wait to be back in pinching corsets and skirts that I trip on.”

“Syrella, you are no longer a child. As empress, you can make the skirts and dresses be whatever length and fit you like.” Wadara kept a straight face until Sy started to giggle.

Sy snorted. “Yes, I am sure that altering the formal wear of nineteen worlds will go over well.”

Wadara chuckled, “Well, I am glad to see you are getting over your shock. The vessel that they are sending for you is an imperial ship, but we are not sending you away in the custody of strangers. Relay has pinged Citadel Darfoth, and they are sending a contingent of bodyguards, on the house.”

“Bodyguards?” bemused she reached for and poured another cup of tea.

“Yes, bodyguards. You are the first empress ever educated at Thoola. We want to make sure you get on the throne and stay there.”

“Stone. Emperors of Vexa sit on a huge, carved block linked to the heart of the world when they appear in their court.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

“It is. Very.”