Roslyn and the Cursed Prince

An enchanted tower keeps her safe. But nothing can guard her against loneliness…

The tower keeps Roslyn secure from those who would steal her infant daughter, as she’s protected by the magic of the village witch, Madame Mallor. She dreams of being reunited with the father of her baby, never imagining that the moment she’s longed for will complicate her life. Because Adrian has been keeping secrets. About his past. About his identity. And about a cursed connection to the woman who has been guarding Roslyn. She doesn’t realize Mallor has not been helping her out of the kindness of her heart, and that the old woman’s obsession with Roslyn and Adrian’s child could destroy them all forever…

Roslyn and the Cursed Prince was originally published as The Cursed Prince by Amber Jantine

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Other books in The Cursed Princes series: Ella and the Wolf Prince Catherine and the Beast Prince


Adrian looked over the map and realized that it was less than half a day’s travel from his current location and close to where he had woken up this morning. If he left now, he could easily be there before sundown.

He could not wait any longer, his heart surging with hope for the first time in months. Leaving Randall at the inn, he set out on his own. As he drew close to where the map said the tower was located, a shift in the wind brought a familiar fragrance.

He did not think it possible for his heart to race even faster, but it did. It had been so long…

Adrian raised his nose into the current of air, tracing the source of the very faint scent to a nearby tree.

Which made no sense until he looked up into branches and spotted a small bit of white. Not a flower, it was the wrong season for that. He clambered up onto the branches and retrieved what turned out to be a small and jaggedly torn bit of paper. Written on it were two simple words: “Remember me.”

He held the tiny note to his nose.

Roslyn must have written this. Even though she had to be aware of his curse, it appeared she still wanted him to find her. He wanted to believe that, even after all this time. He turned again and into the direction of the wind, and soon he found more bits and pieces of paper, each with the same message scrawled upon them.

The trail of scraps led up the mountain and into what appeared to be an impassable stand of trees. The same grouping appeared on the map.

Set together in a straight line, too close and precise to have been done by nature, they were meant to be both barrier and a disguise, but not a solid one. Nothing more than an image painted upon a tapestry. He pushed it aside, and another scent caught his attention.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he realized who it belonged to.

Madame Mallor. After what he had been told by her daughter, that shouldn’t have surprised him.

He pushed through the cloth barrier and the combined fragrance of the women grew stronger. In the middle of a clearing, ringed by actual trees, stood a stone tower. It looked like a single turret from a castle, minus the rest of the structure. With no door. No opening except for a window near the very top.

The old woman’s work, obviously. Only magic could have created such a thing.

He heard voices coming from the window. Faint but distinct.

Once again, his heart soared as he recognized one of them as belonging to his beloved. But the other was far less welcome.
The witch

He could scale the outside of the tower, using the stones as handholds. To confront Mallor and demand that she release Roslyn.

But he did not know what sort of hold the witch might have over her.

It would be better to determine exactly what he was getting into first, and after all of these months of waiting and searching, he could afford to have a little patience.

The sun sank toward the horizon. A faint cry came from within the tower. It almost sounded like a small, wounded animal. It wasn’t Roslyn’s voice, nor the old woman’s.

Roslyn appeared at the window and hooked a rope that was the same color as her blonde hair onto something near the opening. The old woman held onto the cord, looped at one end so she could rest her foot in it, and allowed the younger woman to lower her down to the ground.

She departed through the cloth barrier. Roslyn pulled the rope back up and as a gust of wind toyed with the strands, causing them to fan out, he realized that it was hair. Her hair.

More magic, he assumed.

He remembered the way those silky strands slid over his body as he had lain with her that last night. It had been very long, reaching down to her slender waist, but he couldn’t imagine it would have grown all the way down the length of a large tower since then.

Adrian began climbing up the stones, slipping several times as he remained focused on watching for Roslyn to appear again instead of where he placed his hands and his feet.

He was breathing hard when he neared the top, but not from exertion.

Excitement coursed through his veins. Nearly overwhelming him. He pulled himself up to the ledge of the window and through the opening. As he rose to stand, Roslyn gasped. She stared at him, her beautiful green eyes wide and suspiciously shiny. “Hello, darling.” He smiled and pulled one of her pieces of paper out of his pants pocket. “I got your message.”