top of page
S.E. Zbasnik
ALDRIN
Aldrin, the second son for the throne who's been tasked with saving a crumbling kingdom he has no right to. His only hope is an unknown servant thrust into his life and a gaggle of traveling historians outlawed by all those decent illiterate fearing folk. He makes it about ten miles away from the enemy before he becomes indebted to a witch, a mark he can never square.
He never dreamed he'd find his fifteen year old ass on his father's throne, and now it's all he can hope for.
“Did your father have a lot of enemies?” Ciara asked, because someone had to.
Aldrin looked at her, his fingers framing his eyes, “He was king, if he didn’t have enemies he wasn’t doing it right.”
bottom of page