Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love
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Jayce has little memory of life before entering servitude to the Dark Lord, and no hope of ever escaping. Until he meets Alexius, the knight with a heart of gold. He offers Jayce, his enemy, a chance to break free of the Dark Lord's clutches, and Jayce is not about to let such an opportunity pass.<
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Reviews for Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love
5 ratings3 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was a sweet, lowstakes fantasy book. It's an easy read, and it's entertaining. It touches on forgiving oneself, especially after years of accumulated guilt. I recommend you read this if you are looking for a cozy fantasy read.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5If you are looking for a sweet, calming love story, this is your book. Keeping this one to read again when I need that.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Easy read for chilly evenings. Not the best book I've ever read, but I definitely don't regret it.
Book preview
Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love - Rita A. Rubin
Praise for Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love
Rita A. Rubin’s latest Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love is a tale of wit and sentiment that rivals all cosy fantasies and is a notable addition to the collection.
Quinton Li, author of Tell Me How It Ends.
Of Knights and Books and Falling in Love is a heartfelt delight. Rubin’s writing style is perfectly suited for a slice-of-life tale, and these characters will steal your heart. Look no farther for your next cozy romantic fantasy novel: Rubin’s got you covered.
Talli L. Morgan, author of Meliora.
Sweet, endearing, and wonderfully charming, with characters that don’t shy away from their trauma and a romance that feels deeply well-earned. Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love is a slow-burn cozy fantasy that will enchant you.
Amanda Ferreira, author of Entangled with an Elf Prince.
A beautifully crafted journey of redemption wrapped in a cozy fantasy that will have you smiling and will make your heart soar. Rita A. Rubin shows the healing powers of romantic and platonic love.
Taylor Hubbard, author of A Corruption of Souls.
A nightmare turned daydream. Jayce’s happily ever after would melt even the most villainous of hearts.
E.M. Harding, author of Labours of Stone.
OF
KNIGHTS
AND BOOKS
AND
FALLING
IN LOVE
Rita A. Rubin
Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love.
© Rita A. Rubin 2023
.
The right for Rita A. Rubin to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Act 1968.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission from the author of this book.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.
Cover illustration by Jan Falk.
Typography by Beauregard River.
Also by Rita A. Rubin
Chronicles of the Guardians
Amulet of Wishes
Lady Night
Content Warnings
- Mild blood and violence
- Sexual references
- A sex scene
- Brief discussion of PTSD
Chapter
One
When Jayce returned from a recent battle in the north, he found the Dark Citadel in a state of exhilaration. He would have thought it was because the Hero, their greatest adversary, had finally been defeated.
It turned out to be something almost as exciting.
They had captured the Hero’s lover.
Go and speak with our new guest,
the Dark Lord—Jayce’s master—said to him some time later. The two of them were alone in the Dark Lord’s quarters, which were lavish and without a hint of colour for the eye to see—the Dark Lord took his title rather seriously.
He sat opposite Jayce, in a high, wing-backed chair, beside one of the towering, arched windows that overlooked the city surrounding the Citadel, sipping red wine from a crystal-cut glass. His pitch-black hair fell in long, glossy curtains around a face so pale it was almost white.
I assume you don’t want me to simply ask him about the weather?
Jayce asked. His own wine glass remained untouched on the low table between them. He had no intention of drinking it unless his master ordered him to do so.
Jayce’s remark drew an amused smile from the Dark Lord’s lips. No. I want you to find out if he knows anything . . . interesting, about the Hero and her forces. Anything that we could use to our advantage.
I thought we already had the advantage by capturing her lover?
We must take any advantage we can get. Even if it is as meagre as a crumb of bread,
he explained, his voice soft. Always so soft. Somehow, that made him sound even more sinister. You should understand that, Grey.
Jayce stifled the shiver that always snaked through his body whenever the Dark Lord used the name he had given Jayce years ago. The tone he used when he spoke Jayce’s name made him feel as if invisible fingers were trailing slowly down his spine.
Of course.
Jayce stood from his seat. I’ll go see to the prisoner now.
As he made his way across the black marble floor, towards the doors, he heard the Dark Lord say, Good boy.
Like the rest of the Dark Lord’s castle, the dungeons were carved from obsidian stone. But unlike the rest of the castle, the dungeons were dank and windowless, lit only by the orange glow of torchlight, which set off the shine of the damp on the walls.
Jayce had visited these dungeons on numerous occasions over the years and never for anything pleasant. He was almost certain that no cell down here hadn’t had its walls spattered with the blood of an enemy of the Dark Lord at least once before.
Ah, Grey.
A hulk of a man stood in the dungeon corridor before Jayce.
Detlas, general of the Dark Lord’s army. He had a face like an ox and an even uglier disposition. He was currently dressed in his spiked black armour, which only added to his imposing figure. Jayce knew that the general had been the one to retrieve the Hero’s lover.
I’m to interrogate our newest guest,
Jayce said without preamble. As per the Dark Lord’s request.
Interrogate, eh? Need me to join in?
Jayce inwardly grimaced at the eager grin on the man’s face. Detlas was the kind of man who seemed only to find pleasure in causing others misery. As sadistic and base a man as they came, it was no surprise to find one such as him in the employ of the Dark Lord.
No need,
said Jayce crisply. I’m perfectly capable of handling one prisoner myself, but I’ll be sure to call you in if there’s any cleaning up to be done. Now, take me to him.
Detlas led him all the way down to the cell at the end of the long corridor. Through the thick iron bars, Jayce saw a lone figure sitting slumped against the back wall of the cell, his arms suspended above his head by heavy chains. A young man who looked to be not much older than Jayce himself.
Not much was known about the Hero’s lover. What little Jayce did know of him was all second-hand information. He was a knight from Étoisaint, a town to Solière’s west, and one of the few places the Dark Lord’s war had not managed to touch. Jayce also knew that he was something of a hero in his own right, having helped the Hero to win quite a number of key battles over the years.
He had apparently helped the Hero to slay the basilisc when they retrieved the Sorrow Blade—a powerful weapon instilled with arcane magic. One that the Dark Lord had been most aggrieved to lose to the Hero.
Now, he didn’t even stir when the torchlight threw their long shadows over him.
If he’s dead, I’ll be very cross with you, Detlas.
The larger man snorted. He ain’t dead. Probably still just knocked out cold. He kept putting up a fight, so my men kept clubbing him over the head.
Jayce opened the cell door, and the prisoner still did not so much as twitch.
Hm, maybe he is dead,
Detlas said.
For your sake, he better not be.
Jayce strode into the cell. Now leave us.
Aw c’mon. You could at least let me watch.
He shot Detlas a withering look over his shoulder. "Leave. Now."
The door slammed shut in Detlas’s face, startling the general into leaping back a step. Grumbling, Detlas left them, but not before Jayce caught some of his less than pleasant words. Bitch thinks just because he’s the master’s pet, he can get away with treating everyone else like dog shit.
Jayce didn’t trifle himself with Detlas’s words. They weren’t among the worst things others had said about him, after all. Instead, he focused on the man in front of him.
You can stop pretending,
he said smoothly. I know you are awake.
The prisoner lifted his head to catch Jayce in his fierce, dark-eyed gaze. He had skin the colour of mahogany and a head of black, disorderly curls. Thanks to the torchlight spilling in from the corridor, Jayce could see the bloodied cut along his lower lip and the swelling of bruises on his face—one beneath his left eye and the other at the corner of his mouth. There were bloodstains on the front of his tattered undershirt.
Jayce plastered an amicable smile across his face. There he is. A pleasure to meet you, Sir . . .?
The man only clenched his jaw and turned his head away defiantly.
Jayce sighed. Don’t be difficult. All I’m asking for is your name. You know my name, don’t you?
The tone in the man’s voice was pure venom when he replied, Grey.
No, came a voice unbidden in the back of his head. Jayce ignored it and said, Now don’t you think it’s only polite that I know yours?
The man only continued to glare.
Jayce let out a bereaved sigh. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to resort to any unsavoury methods of interrogation. Which, admittedly, had been foolish of him.
He extended his left hand, as if he were reaching out to grab something. The prisoner made a choked sound and his body seized. Straining against his chains, a low, pained moan slipped past his lips.
Wh-What are you—
Tell me your name,
Jayce demanded calmly, even as something churned uncomfortably inside of him when the prisoner’s legs started jerking, like he was trying to escape the pain that was inside of him.
The prisoner made another sound that reminded him of a wounded animal.
Tell me your name,
he repeated. Tell me and I’ll make it stop.
The prisoner did an admirable job of resisting before he inevitably relented. In that time, Jayce found himself willing the pain to grow stronger while also willing the prisoner to just give in, so Jayce could stop.
A-All right,
the prisoner ground out. "J-just . . . stop. Please, stop."
Jayce lowered his hand, and the prisoner slumped forward; his ragged gasps sounded overly loud in the confines of the cell.
Perhaps it had been unnecessary to torment him like that for refusing to answer with something as unimportant as his name. However, Jayce thought it better to show their prisoner what failing to comply would lead to. Maybe now that he had had a taste of what Jayce could do to him, he would be more forthcoming with the answers Jayce needed.
Your name, please.
A-Alexius,
said the prisoner between gasping breaths, de Viccarri.
Well, then, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alexius—
Your collar.
Jayce’s mouth snapped closed, his hand instinctively came up to the jewel-encrusted, silver choker that covered the entirety of his neck. What?
Your collar,
Alexius repeated. I-I know what it is. It—
"Shut up," Jayce hissed.
But Alexius was either incredibly stubborn, or incredibly foolish—or both, really—because he ignored Jayce’s warning and kept speaking. I’ve seen one just like it before. I know what they do, they . . .
he frowned. You’re being controlled, aren’t you?
Faster than either of them could blink, Jayce moved forward until he had Alexius by the throat, his grip hard enough that he heard the young man let out a strangled cough. "I said, shut up."
The damn fool wouldn’t let up, even with Jayce cutting off his airways. My-My father was a professor. H-He studied these kinds of things . . . I—I could—
"Gods, do you want me to kill you?"
Impossibly, a smug grin curled at the corner of Alexius’s lips. Would you?
he rasped. If I told you I knew how to remove it?
Jayce dropped his hand as if burned. He backed away from Alexius as the other man coughed and sputtered. The beat of Jayce’s own heart felt too loud to his own ears. He hated the notion that this stranger might know of the collar and what it did to Jayce. Hated that he might just be toying with Jayce by saying he knew how to remove it.
We’re done here,
he said, and swept out of the cell before he could allow anymore of his composure to slip away from him.
There were bits and pieces that Jayce still remembered from his life before he came into the service of the Dark Lord. He remembered an apple orchard, running through the sun-dappled paths that snaked between the trees. Picking out the reddest and juiciest apples whenever he wanted, biting into them and savouring the explosion of sweetness on his tongue.
He remembered a small, brown puppy curling up with him by a lit fire. He remembered his mother singing.
And he remembered being in the city of Redvale with one of his mother’s workers on the day the Dark Lord’s forces took it.
Jayce could still hear the screams. See the chaos and destruction. Still feel the fear that rushed through him at the time. He still remembered with crystal-clear clarity when the man who had told Jayce’s mother he would take care of him, was cut down by one of the Dark Lord’s soldiers. The horrible sound he made when the sword went through his back and came out of his chest. The terrible expression on his face and the red of his blood.
Jayce had been spared that day only because the Dark Lord himself had taken one look at him—a terrified and snivelling boy—and seen something in him. Something worthy of taking Jayce in and training him over the next five years to become his apprentice. His servant, his successor. His lapdog. To become one of the most fearsome men in all of Solière.
And to ensure this soft-hearted boy, who he had spent so much time trying to mould into his perfect successor, would never rebel against him, the Dark Lord had stuck a collar on him.
The hour was late when Jayce stood in his rooms before a body-length mirror propped up on the wall. He looked at himself reflected in the clear glass. A tall man of twenty-two, slim build hidden beneath swathes of black and silver robes. Pale skinned with long hair that fell past his shoulders in strands of silver. Black markings traced the line of both of his cheekbones.
There were only two points of colour on Jayce’s person. His eyes, the colour of aqua gemstones, and the three garnets embedded into the silver collar around his neck. One of which was almost as big as his palm.
He touched the collar, watching his reflection as he brushed his fingers against the stones and ornate metal. One might look at it and think it a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. May see it as nothing less than a stunning piece of jewellery.
To Jayce, however, the sight of it was detestable.
The Dark Lord had put it around his neck when he was only twelve and it had not come off since. Could not come off, as Jayce knew all too well.
While the collar imbued Jayce with some of the Dark Lord’s power, it also gave him complete control over Jayce. It ensured that whatever his request, Jayce could never refuse. No matter how cruel or vile, if the Dark Lord wished it, Jayce would see it done.
It was also a symbol of the Dark Lord’s ownership over him. A reminder that Jayce was a tool. A possession.
He hated the fucking thing. How he wished he could wrap his fingers around it and tear the collar off.
I know how to take it off.
This collar was powerful, arcane magic. Was it true that this Alexius, this man who was supposed to be his enemy, knew the secrets that even Jayce did not?
What if he’s simply lying? he asked himself.
And if he isn’t? What do you really have to lose here? Other than an opportunity to finally be free of the Dark Lord, should you choose to not heed this man’s words?
~
Jayce returned to the dungeons early the next morning. The prisoner—Alexius—was still in chains against the back wall, his head hung low. When Jayce opened the door to his cell, however, he lifted his head immediately, eyeing Jayce with both surprise and wariness.
Tell me how to get the damn thing off.
Chapter
Two
It was foolish.
It was mad.
Perhaps the most foolish and mad thing he’d ever done.
But if this reckless gambit paid off, it would mean Jayce would finally have his freedom back. It made the thought of potentially being caught and tortured on pain of death, worth it.
Alexius de Viccarri was willing to help Jayce take back his freedom, but he had a few conditions that he wanted met first.
I can tell you what I know about the collar and how to get it off,
he told Jayce. But I want my freedom back as well.
You want me to help you escape?
said Jayce.
Alexius nodded.
Unfortunately, that’s going to be quite impossible.
Why? I know you being here and talking to me about this must be disobeying your master’s orders. So what is stopping you from simply throwing me the key and letting me do the rest?
"Because I’ve