1st 5 Pages July Workshop- Toran Rev 2

Name: Katherine Toran

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Title: Persephone’s Waltz

Pitch:

Holy Maiden Ysabel has only four months left to live. Determined to live life to the fullest, she conceals that behind her “virginal” image is a chain-smoking, alcohol-loving dominatrix. Acting the part of the naïve do-gooder healer allows her to manipulate nobles and the priesthood to advance her political agenda of improving women’s rights and helping the refugees who fled into her country from the Blight.

War among the civilized nations has been eliminated, replaced by the World Games. Victory in these wizarding death matches will allow her to re-write laws and win the refugees land. In exchange for her ticket to form the first female team, Ysabel has agreed to be sacrificed in a magical ritual.

Then she saves Dark Lord Kaine from being outed as a trans man, and he takes it on himself to rescue her from her grisly fate—by threatening to invade her country. Fortunately he likes her enough to back off when she shoos his prohibited army off her doorstep. Unfortunately, she likes him too, and the nagging survival instinct she thought she killed with booze and recreational drugs is coming back with a vengeance. But to fail to die as a proper Holy Maiden would be to betray the goals she’s inches from achieving and the people she wants to save.

PERSEPHONE’S WALTZ is a 130,000 word young adult fantasy novel.

First Five Pages:

I, Holy Maiden Ysabel, have only four months, three weeks, and two days to live. I’d prefer to spend as little of that as possible in meetings with the Council of Cardinals, yet here I was. I needed a smoke or a stiff drink. Not both; I’d learned from bitter experience on my knees in the outhouse that redleaf and alcohol did not mix.

Cardinal Rakir continued, “…As the maid said to the bishop.” He laughed uproariously. So did the rest of the room. I contemplated the five minutes of my life which I would never get back. Rakir deserved a beating for making me sit through, by my last count, eighty-nine jokes where the punchline was “women are idiots.”

“What did you think, Ysabel?” Rakir asked, smirking. The average intelligence of humanity will be raised the day his nighttime activities cause his old heart to fail.

I widened my eyes. “Oh, it was dreadfully entertaining, but I think it went over my head. Alas, the Sun God has not blessed me with a wit equal to you gentlemen. Why did the bishop tie the maid up? Did she do something wrong?”

They exploded into laughter. I kept my vapid, pretty smile on my face while I contemplated the sharp limits of Rakir’s knowledge of bondage. Just tied hands and a blindfold? If you’re going the sensory deprivation route, at least take advantage of the increased sensitivity with a bit of hot wax and ice. As they had become more obvious, it had gotten harder to pretend I didn’t know far more about how to dominate a partner than they did.

When I’d claimed the Sun God told me as his chosen Holy Healer I should be allowed to join the council, the cardinals discovered the presence of a woman made it awkward for them to brag about their sexual conquests during worktime. So I pretended to be too virginal to understand sexual innuendo if it mugged me in a dark alley. I was still being excluded from the wheeling-and-dealing in the private drinking sessions, but at least they didn’t “forget” to tell me when to show up at the Cardinal’s Chamber to cast my vote.

It was a gorgeous room if you could overlook that it was paid for by charitable tithes. Silver and gold etched dozens of little angels on the ceiling. Statues of muscled men crowded the alcoves, fig leaves covering where the Last Archpatriarch had gone around hacking all their penises off. The round table made of pure gold had to be replaced once a month because gold is a very soft metal. The hand-woven silk carpets didn’t last much longer on account of the drinking parties I wasn’t invited to. A gas lamp burned in a violet-tinted glass case.

Rakir flipped through his papers. “I’m pleased to announce construction of the stadium for the 549^th World Games is complete and under-budget.”

The brightness of the sun in my smile and my voice, I said, “Then I’m sure you have the aracoins to build the bathrooms for women I asked for. Such wonderful news!”

Cardinal Poul grunted. “The Games are too violent for women to be interested in attending.” Poul’s father was a virgin and his mother sucked eggs in hell. We’d be humiliated in the eyes of less patriarchal countries around the world if we made every female dignitary hold it all day. Our economy had barely recovered from the Rashiban queen’s last trade embargo. I didn’t intend to hold it all day.

I scanned the eight men in the room, looking for potential supporters. Two cardinals were missing, but who? Poul I could recognize by his black hat and long beard, but my face-blindness meant I could only tell the cardinals apart by the customary dress of their different sects. The ones who just wore brown robes, like Farruco, Franshall, Lordon, and Envio, all blurred together. Cardinal Orwin, decked out in rings and necklaces, was my closest ally: he had the morals of an alley cat but he was smart enough to have invented the printing press and bribed his way up from a common church-raised orphan to the council. I held up two fingers at him, promising to vote his way the next two times. He nodded.

I cast pleading eyes at Santos, who murmured, “Holy Ysabel’s kind-heartedness does her credit.” Orwin rolled his eyes at me and I resisted the urge to do the same. Santos was the nicest of the lot and probably the only sincere believer at this table, cardinal being more a political position than a religions one these days. Mix him and Orwin together in a bowl and there’d be one decent cardinal between them. It probably said something negative about me that I liked Orwin more. If every cardinal who owed me a favor voted with me, I’d have just enough.

“Excuse me.” I clasped my hands together. “Please allow my humble self to plea for charity in the name of the Sun God. Let us call this esteemed council to vote.”

The vote was four to four. A tie meant no change. Time to pester them to recount until someone changed their mind just to make me stop babbling nonsense.

The brass double-doors creaked open. Cardinal Jioh strode in, his white coat heavy with gemstones and his black beard bristling. Everyone in the room sat up straighter. Jioh was the head of the council. Unfortunately, I had about as much chance of convincing him to vote with me as the Moon Devil did in seducing the Sun God. I hated him with every fiber of my being.

“Noble Jioh, the air becomes more holy now you have graced us with your presence.” I beamed at him. “The Sun God must have sent your wisdom to help us with the thorny tasks assailing us from all sides.” Sorry for making you bear the blame, God.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you struggle on your own, Ysabel.” His tone was both patronizing and sarcastic. Unlike the rest of the council, I’d never managed to quite convince Jioh that I was an empty-headed ninny happy to sacrifice myself, so he kept a close eye on me for any chance that I might try to escape our bargain.

He planted his giant body, both muscular and rippling with fat, down on his throne with a thud. “I come bearing news of an emergency.” His silver cane topped by a white orb leaned against his legs. He took it everywhere, despite having no leg injuries. Of all the cardinals, only he still appeared to be a young man. He had dark monolid eyes, a lumpy face, and a full head of black hair he kept curled and shoulder-length. I would say something unpleasant about his mother, but I couldn’t possibly insult an unfortunate woman who had to squeeze such a bloated head out of her womb.

His next words echoed throughout the small room: “The Holy City may shortly face a siege from Dark Lord Kaine.”

My hands clenched into fists as my mind spun.