Antoinette kight sarcy book

Previously

…Antoinette could only nod, her heart still thrumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The Enchantress, tangled in her own hastily conjured web of magical contracts, was currently emitting a series of high-pitched squeaks that sounded remarkably like a trapped hamster. Her perfectly coiffed hair was askew, and a stray ball of neon pink yarn had somehow become permanently affixed to her forehead like a bizarre, fluffy tiara. “Adventure is one word for it,” Antoinette managed, her voice still a little shaky. She gestured vaguely at the tableau of disarray. “I think ‘magical mishap of epic proportions’ might be more accurate.” Sacry chuckled