In the river-walled city of Thistlemere, Maren Iseult stitches spells into hems and cuffs, charms labeled ready to use for soldiers and shopkeepers alike. When she inherits a forbidden ledger of pre-written bindings, a royal cursebreaker, Cael Orwin, arrives at her door with a problem: a rune-bound engagement he cannot break. A miscast safeguard stitches Cael and Maren together by a literal spare seam, forcing a fake betrothal while they unravel the ledger's intent. Between fittings and evasive courtiers, sparks fly as they barter favors with smugglers and guildmasters.
Their search leads from the sky markets of Volanis to the Whispering Loom beneath the Enameled Keep, where a clockwork orchard of brass swans keeps watch. Armed with a thimble of blink, a spool of silence, and an ironwood needle, they chase the vanished enchanter who wrote the contracts—and who wants the ledger back. To survive the binding's deadline, they must choose between shattering the magic that sustains Thistlemere or re-writing its law with trust, risk, and one very inconvenient kiss. Romance shimmers through grit and gears as destiny is tailored, not foretold.
Liora Penhaligon is a Cornish-born novelist and textile conservator who grew up wandering the fog-bright lanes near Bodmin Moor. After studying folklore and the history of cloth, she restored heirloom garments by day and drafted spell-laced romances by night. Her fiction blends threadwork, law, and longing, often set in wind-bitten port cities. She lives in Bristol with a terrier named Button and an ever-growing collection of antique thimbles.
Cozy slow burn with a sturdy plot spine; I loved curling up with this on a rainy weekend. The Volanis detour dragged a hair, but the tenderness more than made up for it. A lovely, re-readable comfort fantasy.
Fake dating plus forced proximity isn't my thing, and the magic felt hand-wavy even with the ominous ledger and ironwood needle. The banter lands, but the big kiss solves too much too fast. I wanted deeper worldbuilding beyond the guild politics.
I squealed multiple times. Cael grumbling while secretly hemming Maren's cloak? Peak romance. Please hand me every leftover thread from this world—novellas, epilogues, grocery lists, anything!
Thistlemere felt like a living place, from mud-banked piers to the hush beneath the Enameled Keep. Maren and Cael spar beautifully, and the ledger's legal-magic puzzle is genuinely satisfying. I wanted one more chapter in Volanis, but the ending stitch was perfect.
I was hooked from the moment Maren mis-stitched that safeguard and wound up fake-betrothed to Cael. The brass swans in the clockwork orchard and the clever use of the spool of silence made the world feel tactile and fresh. Tender, funny, and tense in all the right places.
