At Her Service by K.S. Trenten New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress

Title

  At Her Service

Author

 K.S. Trenten

Publisher

  NineStar Press

Release Date

 03/25/2025

Heat Level 

 1 - No Sex

Pairing

 Female/Female

Length
 23500

Genre

 Fantasy, Cinderella, F/F fairy tales, nonbinary characters, romance, magic, royalty, humor, glass shoes

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Description

There are one too many Ariellas in our family chateau, when my stepmother becomes its mistress. She’s the rightful Ariella, and Ariella is a name she’ll only share with her daughter. Fortunately, the lady doesn’t realize I’m more than happy to give her daughter anything, including my name. I’ve come to live for the moments when I tickle her feet into her glass slippers. Why would I wish for anything more?

Magic, however, is going to whisk me away from my pallet in the cinders for a night of lights, dancing, and mystery. Mischief will try to sweep me off my feet, but I’m not so easy to sway. For princes are not what they seem, and a servant’s loyalty can be as strong as any spell.

Excerpt

At Her Service

K.S. Trenten © 2025

All Rights Reserved

One Ariella Too Many

I’ll never forget the first time my mistress offered me her hand.

“Every woman should dance once.” She hadn’t been my mistress yet. She was my stepsister, a bewitching girl with sapphire-blue eyes and a husky voice.

No, the other Ariella’s voice was more than husky. I could feel every syllable caressing the inside of my ear. Nor did the sensation stop there. The sound glided down my spine, raising the hairs of my neck, awakening my entire body.

“Shall I show you how, Ariella?” She kept her strong fingers steady, ready to catch and claim me.

Shy, uncertain, I dared to raise my hand to touch hers.

“Ariella, stay away from that girl!” Harsh as the caw of a crow, those words stopped us where we stood.

Ariella stiffened, turning to face its owner at the same moment as I did.

The lady of the chateau wasn’t a tall woman, but her presence loomed within the room, ready to quell anyone who dared to irritate her.

I could already tell I more than irritated her.

“Ariella was only showing me how to dance…” I began, trailing off when I saw the expression in my stepmother’s eyes. How could she look so much like Ariella herself, yet be so different?

“You will address my daughter as the Lady Ariella.” The lady of the chateau spoke in a tone as cold and flat as her eyes. “This is not your home, not anymore. You may no longer dance around as if you owned it.”

“Mother…” Ariella began, but her mother cut her off.

“This is our ancestral estate, the Lady Ariella’s and mine.” She advanced upon me, raising one hand in a claw. It reminded me of a chicken who’d once challenged a hound dog for dominion over a pile of sand. The chicken had won.

“Even if your ancestor managed to steal this chateau from ours, we have taken it back.” She kept her hand raised, a ring flashing upon it. It may have once belonged to my mother, but she hadn’t worn it very often.

“Isn’t it my father’s estate?” Frightened as I was, I hadn’t learned yet not to contradict the lady. “Aren’t you only here because my father married you?”

She struck me, a sharp, glancing blow which might have been no more than a slap to a sturdier woman.

I had never been particularly sturdy. I was tiny, overimaginative, and lacking in a sense of balance.

The lady’s strike knocked me off my feet. I hit the ground in an ungraceful pile at the lady’s own.

“How dare you!”

I’ll never forget the angry snarl that distorted her face. What she’d constrained within her eyes and pinched lips had finally been set free.

I crawled to my knees, not getting up. It seemed better to stay down. One glance at the lady’s twisted, quivering mouth was enough to convince me. I covered my head with my hands.

No, I’ve never been particularly brave. I try to avoid conflict. I suppose I’m like my father in this.

Submitting didn’t appease my stepmother. She raised her hand. Perhaps she meant to hit me again once she’d grabbed my hair, pulling me up to the level of her fist.

“Mother, stop.” Ariella’s husky voice rose with a firm authority I’d never heard her use.

I opened my eyes to glimpse her ankles peeking out from under the hem of a dark-blue skirt.

They were pale, bony, but there was a strength to them. They were planted on the floor between the lady and myself, drawing energy from beneath her heels. I could feel it, traveling up her legs to her torso, heart, and head. The shape of the bone protruding from her ankles reminded me of a rock jutting out from the coastline, standing in proud defiance of the coming waves.

I wanted to grab her ankles, kiss her feet, to give her whatever I could to help her withstand her mother’s rage. Or anything else that might crash against her.

Not that I could do any of those things while huddled on the floor.

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Meet the Author

I’m a California Bay Area author, exploring the borders of reality and gender to create new worlds and populate them with compelling characters. I live with my husband and our two four footed children, i.e. cats.

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