WARNING: The following post contains minor spoilers.
The editing process is without a doubt the worst part about writing (in my opinion). No matter how many times you go over the book, there always seems to be something else that needs changing. And then there is the task of cutting sentences and even entire scenes that you like but know need to go anyway… It’s heartbreaking sometimes to get rid of these parts of your book baby!
While editing The Peasant Queen for… the sixth or seventh time (I lost track), I decided that two scenes needed to be replaced with something briefer and more beneficial to the story and one scene needed to be deleted altogether. I had been holding on to this brief little scene for a long time. I knew it probably should be cut for the sake of lowering my word count, but I liked it. It’s a very short and simple scene, but it gives such a swoony glimpse into Rowan and Arabella’s romance. It was also the last purely happy scene before the major conflict of the book. But I didn’t feel that desire for one more happy moment was enough to keep this scene in the final manuscript.
However, I had to at least file away this scene so that I could still share it with all of you one day! And that day is today!
Now, I will quit my rambling and get to what you all came here for…
Enjoy this brief but sweet deleted scene between Rowan and Arabella, which takes place right after they attend the Harvest Festival in Caelrith.
The sea of nobles swayed in an elegant dance before me. The feast would be served any moment, but in the meantime the crowd took advantage of a few early dances, this being the fourth. I had yet to participate, at first content to watch the splendor of the brightly colored gowns, tunics, and flashing jewels swirling through the room. But now, my feet ached to join.
An older lord stepped towards me and extended his hand with a polite smile. “May I have the honor of this next dance, my queen?”
I gratefully accepted his hand. “Yes, my lord. ‘Twould be my utmost pleasure.”
He led me out and we began gracefully spinning and turning across the expanse of the Great Hall. The dance had gone on for some minutes and I had just closed my eyes for a brief moment when I felt my partner’s hands slip away and another’s claim me. This man’s touch was strong, possessive, holding my waist and hand as though he owned them. I opened my eyes and smiled.
Rowan’s devastatingly handsome face looked down at me, his eyes smoldering and sending my heart into a pitter-patter rhythm. We whirled around without missing a step even though I hardly noticed our movements, so caught was I in his embrace and intent gaze that seemed to stare straight into me. His hand at my waist felt as if it encircled me entirely.
He would have kissed me right there, I knew, had we not been surrounded by people, but his deep gaze was enough for the moment. It seemed to melt my insides until my entire being was molten liquid.
He was kissing me with his eyes.
I did not say a word, and neither did he. Nothing was needed. For I understood every word that passed silently between us, the assurances of love, the promises of much more when we were able to be alone.
Never before had I known anything like that gaze.
**Property of Ashton E. Dorow and Life & Lit Press**
