Millia is a lady, or at least she used to be. Now she's a Grist sister, devoted to the Golden God. But her father is reaching abdication age, and as his only living child, whoever marries her will have control of his land and title---and her magic. Unless she can ascend to handmaid status within the Grist and use her magic, no bond mate required.

Alroth is done with war. Since the Canal War ended with him pulling a bloody knife from his commanding officer's back, he's kept his swords and armour in a chest in the larder. His little cruck house is always bustling with his retired merc buddies and the ragtag outcasts they've taken in---from the oldest war veteran to the newborn bastard child whose mother turned up on their doorstep. But with another war brewing, Alroth will have to choose: let his armour chest keep gathering dust or keep them all safe?

Magic flows from one man to one woman---or so the Grist claim. In practice, it's a little more complicated than that. But the Grist are right about one thing: if you use too much magic, your spectral bond animal ephemer will become corporeal and you will suddenly be the spectre, at least temporarily.

Sexually explicit scenes, injury, blood, death, imprisonment, spousal abuse (malicious wrenching magical bond to cause pain and remove autonomy; not by the love interest), references to past sexual trauma (not by the love interest).