I'm a female writer with 3 fantasy pieces so far. 2 of them are very short, one of which is in verse, the last being around 3k words. I'll be editing this post to remove the book contents after you've had a read, so please let me know:

An Ode To The Fallen Gods: The Canticle of Champions Series - Book 1, Singlet 1 "Oy, don't the princess look pretty in her gold dress?", I overheard a gruff voice commenting to someone as I walked through the gardens of my father's castle hand in hand with my tutor, Octon Ayshmail as he recounted me with the tales of The Eight Gods of Esteron. I turned my head to find the source of the voice, and there ducking behind a hedge but speaking loudly enough for me to hear, I saw the elder Sandor boy, Dharen, spying on me as he spoke to someone. I was certain that he had wanted me to hear him, a even more so that he was referring to me. My Octon turned to look at me as I pulled my hand out of his, our stroll through the gardens of Castle Adams, the seat of power of my father Andor's kingdom, now rudely interrupted. My attention was now on the beast warden's son. Without warning, I watched the younger Sandor, Ahren leaping from where he'd been kneeling on the ground playing with his brother's toy knight, wrapping his arms around the larger Dharen's neck while clamping his legs around his waist and screaming at him as he dragged them both to the ground kicking up a cloud of dust. "You don't talk about the prince like that!" yelled Ahren in my defense as they fell, with Dharen smashing face first into the ground on the other side of the hedge from where he had been watching me. I ran towards the hedge they had fallen behind with my Octon not far behind, worried the larger Dharen would kill his younger brother for his surprise attack.
As I arrived at the hedge I saw Dharen rolling himself over further out of my view, his younger brother still clinging to his back underneath him. Leaning over and sticking my head over the hedge to see I found myself eye to eye the elder Sandor, his face now coated with red earth where it had clung to the sweat, his eyes turning a similar color to his skin as the anger built up within him. I worried for my protector as I saw him pulling back with his arms and squeezing with his legs with all his might to choke the breath out of Dharen. He could not have been a year or two older than me, I thought, but he already looked like a young man, and his rapidly becoming uncontrollable brother, a grown one; both nothing like my own body that still retained the lightness and fragility of childhood. "If the King heard you father would lose his head, and mother too!" I heard him exclaim as Dharen's face went crimson with rage. The elder Sandor gathered himself, and with a powerful lurch foward, sat up off the ground, lifting his brother into the air with him, and in a single motion, pushed himself off the ground with his hands while getting his feet under him and leaping up and back into the air with the intent to land on Ahren and smash him with his weight. But Ahren was quick, and I watched on as he unlatched his feet at the apex of Dharen's leap, and kicking off his back, landed safely out of the the path of his brother's falling body, and with his hands still around Dharen's neck, pulled him down towards the ground faster than his fall would have taken him, smashing his head into one of the hedge's roots protruding from the ground, killing him. My eyes were glued to Ahren as I watched him look down at what he had done as the blood poured out of his brother's head where it had cracked apart, mixing with the red earth into a black mud as it's moisture was sucked into the dry ground. He lifted his hand away from Dharen's smashed head and looked at them dripping with his brother's mud with a look of shock and horror upon his face. Then, in the space between his bloodied hands, for the first time that I noticed, he looked at me, and I, the prince in my golden cloak that had billowed around me creating the appearance of a dress, looked back at him, and I saw the expression on his face become serene as he resigned himself to what had just happened. The Octon picked me up and pulled me away from the hedge and carried me toward the tower of the Kingsword as I writhed and squirmed in his arms to turn and look over his shoulder at the changed Ahren whose hands still dripped with his brother's blood, though I noticed that he no longer held them in the air as he had been when the Octon pulled me away and our people do when praying to The Eight, but rather had let them fall to his sides and clenched them into fists, and I wondered what was going through his mind as he continued to hold my gaze until I disappeared into the tower.