A.N. Pennywhistle

Doreagh Mhoran was the best duelist the Circle of Vows ever crowned — until the day her own marriage-bond went wrong, and she should have died breaking it. She didn't. Twelve years and a stolen name later, she trains other people's champions instead of becoming one, hiding a ruined sword hand and a truth that would end her the moment anyone looked closely enough.

Then Sorlagh Bhannoch walks into her practice yard: faster, hungrier, and utterly unafraid of the blade — with ten days to win a fighting license before her family bonds her to a stranger to settle an old debt. Coaching her is the only way to keep them both safe. It's also the fastest way to be seen.

Because this year, for the first time in a decade, the Crown is watching the Circle's trials in person — and its new Warrant has a very specific rumor to chase: someone broke a completed marriage-bond and lived. He doesn't know her name yet. He's about to learn everything else.

In a court where marriages are treaties and magic enforces every vow, one duel can end a war, seal a fate, or unravel a secret twelve years buried. Doreagh has one apprentice, one ruined hand, and about eight days left to decide whether hiding was ever really keeping her safe at all.

She knows every back road in the kingdom, but the one path she cannot map is the one out of the trials. Conscripted as an apprentice to a mentor whose methods are lethal and whose motives are entirely hidden, a long-haul courier with a failing heart must survive a brutal testing ground. Here, the kingdom's heirs do not rule—they compete, they bleed, and they die alongside commoners in service to the Engine, a terrifying machine that consumes more than just fuel to keep their borders safe. When a deadly rival heir becomes an agonizingly necessary partner, she realizes survival means feeding the very system that is killing her, or tearing it apart from the inside.