No Saint, No Bride

Kestrel Whitlock has two days to put a kingdom between herself and a wedding, and one chapel in the way. She takes the reliquary. It takes her name. By nightfall, every predator on the border has learned that a thief is carrying the blood-writ of the Voivode Aurel Sanger. By morning, the Voivode is sitting at her table, eating her bread, offering her a job: steal the six relics that will make him mortal enough to die. She takes the job. The church hunts them. Her bridegroom hunts them. The relics hunt them. And somewhere between the fifth theft and the sixth, the woman who has never stayed anywhere decides she would rather die robbing the world than leave a dead man to do it alone.