Queen of Crows

By Katie Roman

Gwen Wyatt is tired of the gods. Cursed by Hades, used by Hera, attacked by Aphrodite, she's had her fill. But when Hera arrives with a simple proposition; help protect Princess Mary from the scheming Boleyns and Aphrodite and earn the protection of Hera. Gwen quickly finds she cannot refuse the queen of the gods.
Unfortunately, nothing is ever simple. When the daughters of Eris and Aphrodite arrive with startling accusations about the gods and a request for help, Gwen finds herself embroiled in the ancient hurts of Olympus once again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Roman
• Release date: Nov 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005450120

Katie Roman

Raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Katie Roman has been many things. Student, band geek, dog sitter, history major , and consummate tea drinker, but above all things she's been a writer.

Book preview

Queen of Crows

A Laurel and Roses Story

By

Katie Roman

Copyright 2021 by Katie Roman

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Cover Artist: Fionn Jameson – Milktee Studios

Editor: Stacy Sanford – The Girl with the Red Pen

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Epilogue

More from the Author

To Fiona

I miss all those hours writing at Panera.

Chapter I

January 1533

I stand in the snow, watching the crows fly overhead. I’m envious of their freedom. The liberty of soaring and catching the wind is something mortals simply don’t understand. I once shared the freedom of flight until some horrible wench came along and stole my tail feathers. Her punishment was banishment from England, but as I am still without my feathers, I am also being punished for her crime. I sigh and return to my small rented room. I often dream of the wind carrying me to new heights, only to wake and find myself nothing more than a normal woman once more.

When I step into my room, I am nearly bowled over by a huge peacock. His tail feathers are fanned out. They bend and bow as he struts around me. He is missing the eye at the end of his feathers; gray dots have replaced it. The same wench who took my tail feathers stole his eyes. He darts at me, squawking loudly. His feathers smack me in the face and hands as I try to push him back. I slam the door behind me, lest the other women in the boardinghouse see him and kick me out. He bobs his head and hisses at me.

Argus! I whisper, trying to catch him.

My room is small, so the peacock has nowhere to run, but he manages to escape my grasp, nonetheless. He knocks over my clay water pitcher and it shatters into a hundred pieces on the floor.

Argus! You miserable shit! I jump for him, trying to grab him and secure his wings, but he hits me with his wing, slapping me in the face. He is a large, unruly bird who deserves to be served as the main course at the King’s palace.

That is no way to treat my messenger, a calm, deep voice says behind me.

I turn to see a woman at the door of my room. She is bathed in golden light and her black tresses hang free, not to be confined by a hood or veil. She doesn’t wear the French or English court gowns but instead wears a shimmering, golden toga. A fan of peacock feathers hangs at her waist. She is barefoot, despite the cold that surrounds us. I should bow or at least dip my head, take a knee, anything, but instead I pull my shoulders back and wait.

I have been made a fool of! she seethes. Dark eyes narrow on me. I could have done nothing to offend her, but I still feel a need to apologize.

Hera, please, sit. I'll make us tea. I pull out my meager wooden chair for her. Aside from the lumpy mattress of hay, it is my only furnishings.

Damn you, Gwen! I have no time for tea! Aphrodite has made a fool of me! She sits and Argus jumps into her lap. Some of her anger ebbs away with the presence of her loyal servant. I cannot stand for this injustice!

I lick my lips. Is this about King Henry's Great Matter? I knew Queen Katharine was Hera's chosen, but the King's eyes often wandered. Now he looked to divorce Katharine, an injustice that enraged Hera. This still doesn't explain why she is here. Aphrodite has been trying for years to unseat Katharine with no luck. That Boleyn girl is nothing more than a temporary distraction.

Hera stands, dumping Argus rudely to the floor. He protests with a soft squawk but is ignored. Hera’s teeth grind together, and her flawless face turns redder by the second.

What is going on? My voice quavers and a lump lodges in my throat. A hand grips my heart. Has Aphrodite succeeded? Or worse, has her wench of a daughter returned from exile?

Hera rounds on me, the full force of her fury bearing down. Her dark eyes flash with unbridled hate. I step back, feeling the wall behind me.

"That faithless, disgusting man has married his whore