Antoinette kight sarcy book

Previously

…Antoinette’s heart swelled. “And you, my dear Sacry, are kind, brilliant, and have the patience of a saint who’s had to translate my pronouncements into coherent sentences on multiple occasions. Even when I was a poodle.” They clinked their glasses again, the sound a cheerful counterpoint to the distant hum of the city. The enchantress, they’d learned, had been a fallen starlet who’d discovered a talent for a particular brand of coercive magic, a magic that thrived on ambition and the promise of fame. Her “talent agency” was less about nurturing talent and more about binding it, twisting it, and selling it to the highest bidder in the ethereal realms. Sacry, with her innate