Book 3 in The Chronicles of Tanithor: Age of the Oracle officially releases on September 20, 2024 but I’m giving you an exclusive sneak peek at the first few chapters! Read on to dive back into Tanithor in A Game of Truth and Lies.
* To avoid any spoilers, make sure you’ve read A Bounty of Secrets and Rebellion and A Battle of Past and Present, books 1 and 2 in The Chronicles of Tanithor series, before you continue.
Prologue
Ell shot up out of bed, heart pounding. Everything was shaking. She heard a muffled shout and footsteps running on the wood floor of the cabin.
She jumped out of bed, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pulled on her boots and grabbed her coat. She then pried up the loose floorboard near the end of her bed and grabbed the bag she had stored there. Moving quickly, she slung the bag over her shoulder and reached under the mattress for the knife she had hidden if she ever had the chance to…well if she ever needed it. With the cool steel ready in hand, she turned for the door and tested the handle.
Locked.
As usual.
She rapped her knuckles on the door three times and waited. Nothing.
“Jax?” she called through the doorway. “Jax, open up!”
Still no answer. She grabbed the handle and shook it, trying to wrangle it open but her years in the cabin told her there was no way she was going to get that door open. Locked from the outside, only the guard could unlock the four bolts that secured her inside.
A sudden violent tremor rocked the cabin so hard, Ell lost her balance and her knees slammed to the floor. Heart racing, she twisted to the window and yanked down the blanket she had hung over it to keep in the warmth.
She gasped at the sight.
Fire was raining down from the night sky.
She had only a moment to take in the view before she spotted a massive fire ball careening toward the very window of which she was looking out. She barely managed to jump aside as it hit the window.
Glass shattered, wood splintered and flames erupted all around. Another rumble reverberated through the house as though the cabin were being demolished. Based on what she had seen in the sky, it probably was. She guessed she only had minutes to escape, and the only way out was through the flaming window the fireball had just obliterated.
She ripped off the blanket from the bed and tossed it over her head and shoulders, clasping it closed in front of her. The fire was spreading quickly, the wood of the cabin creating the perfect breeding ground for the flames. The floor rattled again and a distant crash told her the roof had caved in on the other side of the house.
Seconds. She had seconds to get out.
Taking a deep breath, she ducked down and ran straight for the flaming hole in the wall. Heat licked at her feet and legs, and she instinctively jumped as she reached the threshold of the cabin floor. She thought she heard a shout from behind as she sailed through the air.
Her boots sunk down into the cold, wet snow. Momentum had her tumbling forward as her hands crashed into the frozen ground. There was a sizzling hiss, and she hastily tossed the blanket off her so that the snow could extinguish the flames eating at the blanket. She straightened up, pulling her cloak more tightly around her as she darted away from the cabin without a second look back.
The sky was still raining balls of flame and molten lava. There was nothing she could do but keep moving. The air was sharp and cold and every intake of breath pierced her lungs, but she would not stop. The snow crunched beneath her as the flames fell above her. The light of the fire around her cast everything in red light. She shot a quick glance around to ensure no one was following her. The guards had clearly abandoned her. Amidst her escape, she was distantly aware that for the first time in five years she was free.
Ell’s pulse raced as she sped onward toward a thicket of evergreen trees. She didn’t dare look back at the cabin. The light of the fire behind her told her it was already up in flames. She only kept on running, dodging the firestorm as she ran as fast as she could. A tree up ahead was crackling and hissing as the fire ate at its bark. She heard an ominous snap and a deep crack just as she catapulted past the tree. A moment later, a deafening crash met her ears as the sapling landed on the ground behind her.
Then a sudden light blinded her, forcing her to stop running as she threw her hands up to shield her eyes. She was breathing fast, her heart clamoring in her chest. She bent forward, trying to take the moment to catch her breath. A terrible shrieking noise pierced the air, and all her senses were momentarily paralyzed. She clapped her hands to her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut, dropping to her knees, but she didn’t have the luxury of cowering against the onslaught of overwhelming sights and sounds.
A ball of fire landed just beside her, hissing in the snow. She had to keep moving. With another shriek, she jumped to her feet and began running again. Fortunately, the high-pitched screech dissipated at the same time the blinding light seemed to snuff out as well. Smoke began to billow out, slowly pouring down over her from the right.
She glanced over her shoulder, and her breath caught. Red hot lava was slowly seeping down the mountain, disintegrating everything in its path. She urged her legs forward, barreling through the snow and dodging around the flames that continued to fall overhead. Ell adjusted her course so that she was running away from the lava, but not on its direct course down the mountain.
She didn’t know how far the lava reached, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Even when her legs began to scream in protest and she could barely draw in another breath, she kept running. If she couldn’t get somewhere safe, her freedom would be short-lived. Pure determination drove her further along the mountain, away from the lava, away from the cabin, and toward the sweet, sweet life of freedom.
Chapter One
Fynn
The chair creaked under Fynn as he leaned back with a heavy sigh. He had been called into his father’s urgent council meeting before he even had the chance to say good morning to Alana. She had been sound asleep when he left with a note that he would be back later. He had quickly discovered that his bride to be was not a morning person and considering the wild events they had endured the previous night, he didn’t suspect she would be up any time soon.
This morning’s council meeting had begun with talk of the earthquake last night. After it had rocked Holden, Mount Dragor had blown its top. Nothing like it had ever happened in the history of Tanithor, and Fynn was confident the natural disaster would lead to a lot of paper work.
The timing couldn’t be worse.
He had been hoping to stretch his leave of absence as long as possible in order to spend as much time with his betrothed as he possibly could, but, being the Crown Prince of Gaellen, he couldn’t very well shirk his duties to the kingdom.
As if right on cue, his father suddenly declared to the gathered council men, “I’m sending a troop out today to assess the damage done by the earthquake. Fynn, I am putting you in charge of collecting the information from the soldiers and want a detailed report as soon as the work is done.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Fynn replied in the tone of a soldier responding to his Commander in Chief.
“In our next session, we can deliberate how best to move forward if anything requires our attention,” his father added.
Fortunately, the castle, being the fortress that it was, remained unscathed by the earthquake. However, it was clear just from their view atop the hill where the castle overlooked the city that Holden had not fared as well. Fynn could already see the mountain of paperwork that surely awaited him.
The council members nodded in agreement as his father continued, “In other news, the Lost Prince of Latera has been found—” there was a collective intake of breath as the councilmen took in this surprising news— “Through a series of All God miracles, Prince Griffin arrived on our doorstep four days ago. He has been fully apprised of his previously unknown heritage and is taking the news as well as could be expected given the circumstances.
“I have sent a letter to both King Sundry, informing him that Griffin is here and wishes to stay for the wedding, and to Chief Shoshone in Hoken, conveying the same. I also expressed a desire to negotiate a further peace agreement between our three kingdoms based on the events that occurred in Elania. I suggested Chief Shoshone send an ambassador if he wished to discuss such an arrangement, and I’m hoping to hear back in the affirmative.”
“Do you plan to introduce the prince to the court, Your Majesty?” Lord Boland, a councilman from Bode, asked.
“No. Until he is ready to actively take up his birthright, Princess Alana requested his time at the castle remain unhindered from royal protocol, and I agree that it is too much for the boy to handle at this time. He is merely an honored Lateran guest, together with his Hoken companion, Halyn.”
Lord Cully from Stavenheim raised an eyebrow at Kieran who had been summoned to the meeting as well. “Representatives from all four kingdoms under one roof,” he noted pointedly. “This truly is a momentous occasion.”
“Indeed. You may have noticed our guest here this morning,” Fynn’s father remarked, nodding to Kieran who sat next to Fynn. “May I introduce Kieran Amare Dakari.”
“Dakari?” Lord Dugan from Tronso asked.
“Kieran, perhaps you would like to explain yourself to the council?” Fynn’s father asked with a smile.
Kieran nodded and straightened up in his chair. He took a deep breath and then began to relay the story of his rightful inheritance to the Zimeran throne, offering up the Zimeran King’s ring for proof of his claims.
“I come to you today to ask for your help to overthrow my uncle, King Dakari,” Kieran stated. “No, I beg for your help. Without you, it is impossible to succeed on our own. The people of Zimerah desperately need your help to be free of the tyrannical dictator who currently presides over them. With the combined efforts of my militia and your military force, I’m confident we can overtake Dakari and work together to bring Gaellen and Zimerah together in peace for the first time in centuries.”
“That is a tall order, young man,” Lord Loughlin from Bergstad noted.
Fynn peered at Kieran who nodded in understanding. It was a fact that peace between Zimerah and Gaellen had actually never been realized. There was a bloody history between the kingdoms, the most recent clash being over Gaellen’s former territory of Nor Isund that King Dakari had conquered. Before that, border wars and skirmishes had created a hostile relationship between them, only recently tempered by the peace agreement his father had formed just before Fynn was born.
“Yes. It is,” Kieran replied soberly. “However, I will personally be indebted to Gaellen to see this through. Whatever you ask, I’m willing to work out an agreement to make it happen once I am crowned king of Zimerah.”
“To start, Kieran has offered to help secure our northern border by reviewing and highlighting various weaknesses in our defense,” Fynn pointed out, and Kieran sent him a thankful smile.
At first, Fynn had naturally been skeptical of the Zimerans upon their arrival. However, after Nakeera saved Alana and shared her story, Fynn was inclined to believe her good intentions. If it hadn’t been for Nakeera, Alana may very well have been captured and killed by the one who had set a bounty on her head. When Kieran arrived, confirming Nakeera’s claims to give up her right to the throne and made his own good intentions clear, Fynn’s faith had been solidified in the pair.
Fynn could see the wisdom in helping Kieran take back Zimerah. It could potentially result in the greatest peace Tanithor has ever known. Of course, such a move didn’t come without risk. King Dakari was a formidable opponent given that his army was the largest in Tanithor and he was known for his ruthlessness. It would be no small task to remove him from power, and Fynn appreciated the humility it took for Kieran to seek their help. He hoped the council would see the wisdom in granting their support as well.
“The council will require time to deliberate on the matter,” Fynn’s father announced, and Kieran dipped his chin in understanding.
“Thank you all very much for taking the time to consider it,” Kieran returned, looking around at the councilmen. “In the mean time, I look forward to getting to know each of you.”
“Kieran has presented himself to the court as an ambassador for peace accompanying Princess Nakeera,” his father explained. “None but the royals and you all know of his true identity, and he would like to keep it that way.”
“This is because King Dakari does not know of my existence,” Kieran added. “The greatest advantage I have against him at the moment is anonymity. I would appreciate it if you could keep the truth of who I am just between us.”
Fynn noted the level of trust Kieran was putting in his father’s council with the hopes that they would return the sentiment. He respected the Zimeran all the more for it.
“Gentleman, you are sworn to secrecy,” his father commanded in a tone only a king could employ. “No one shall speak of Kieran’s identity outside this chamber. Understood?”
There was a collective, ‘yes, Your Majesty,’ from all the council members, and Kieran smiled appreciatively.
“Will the volcano have done serious damage to Zimerah?” Lord Gaffney from Garvik inquired, moving the meeting along. Whether he was actually concerned for Zimerah or eager for their demise was unclear to Fynn.
“Thank you for your concern, Lord Gaffney,” Kieran replied, and Fynn smiled at his diplomacy. “There are no towns within reach of the volcano’s blast zone. If anything, we lost a few trees and mountain animals, but I expect no harm has come to my people.”
“Kieran has given us a bit of information regarding another matter that is quite disconcerting,” Fynn’s father began with a frown. “He discovered a secret group meeting in the Bergstad Salt Mine. Evidently they are strongly against the alliance for religious reasons.”
“They called it an abomination to mix races,” Kieran clarified.
The council members immediately began to murmur their discontent at this news. Lord Dugan spoke up among them, “I was under the impression that those who held radical views of the All God were few and far between.”
“As was I,” his father responded grimly. “We all know Heywrth Kirkund was one such radical. As it turns out, he was responsible for the bounty on Princess Alana.”
Cries of shock and dismay erupted as the men gathered learned of the treachery of their former co-councilman.
“It was a surprising and disappointing revelation indeed,” his father continued, “He tried to evade capture after the confession of his crimes and met his just end as a result.”
“Is there still a price on the princess’s head?” Lord Boland asked.
“Since Kirkund’s death, we have not had any more attacks,” Fynn replied. “I imagine word will spread that the bounty is no more.”
“Even if there was still a price on her head, it would be nearly impossible for any bounty hunter to get into the castle. It is the most secure place in Gaellen,” Lord Loughlin commented proudly.
“That is true,” Fynn’s father affirmed. “However, I do wish to investigate this group further. If they hold the same views as Kirkund, then there is still a threat out there.”
Fynn tensed at this. Just when he thought he’d gotten Alana safely home and eliminated the threats, another danger was lying in wait.
“We will increase the security around the castle just to be safe,” his father went on. “I want a group out to survey the mine for any sign of who these people are. Lord Loughlin, as Bergstad is your jurisdiction, would you please lead that investigation?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Other than the threat from within, should we be concerned about other kingdoms attempting to prevent this alliance?” Lord Cully inquired with a glance around the table.
“King Dakari does not see the alliance as a threat,” Kieran advised. “Princess Nakeera has reported that his focus is on Hoken.”
“And since Hoken and Latera are currently focused on each other, the alliance remains unhindered from outside threat,” Fynn put in.
“So the only threat to the alliance is from our own people,” Lord Cully surmised to a general nod of solemn councilmen.
Fynn scrubbed a hand through his hair, sighing at the irony. Alana had first believed Zimerah to be the threat, yet it was a Zimeran who saved her and the threat was from the very kingdom to whom she was aligning.
“I believe that is all we have to discuss for this meeting, gentlemen,” Fynn’s father said, lightly clapping his hands together over the table.
“Actually, there is one more thing we need to discuss, Your Majesty,” Lord Olesund interjected. “The matter of your daughter’s engagement has not yet been settled.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Fynn saw Kieran lean forward as his father said slowly, “She has not mentioned an interest in engagement at the moment.”
“My son has been courting her for a few months now, Your Majesty,” Lord Olesund replied quickly. “Will she be given into perpetuity to make a decision? She is already nearing eighteen.”
Fynn’s father released a heavy breath. He got the sense that this topic of conversation wasn’t one he wanted to have at the moment. “I don’t expect she will be inclined to want to rush the matter, Lord Olesund.”
“Surely she knows Logan well enough by now, Your Majesty,” Lord Boland interjected. “Do you know what she is waiting for?”
“She is young. The prospect of a life forever sealed in marriage can be…overwhelming,” Fynn’s father replied, seeming to choose his words carefully as he kept his eyes on his hands clasped before him. “I imagine she just wants to ensure she is making the right choice.”
“Well I know my son would like to know if his efforts have not been in vain. It is unkind to lead a man on to believe something that isn’t going to happen, wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?” Lord Olesund pressed. Fynn could clearly tell he was rooting for his son to be the lucky bachelor that would have her hand.
“It is indeed. I will ask her about Logan and let you know,” his father confirmed.
“I know you wish to allow her the choice, Your Majesty, but she cannot stay unmarried forever,” Lord Dugan added gently. “As the Princess of Gaellen, she is expected to marry a man of noble birth. Logan is more than a suitable match. She must decide before too long.”
“She will make her choice in a reasonable amount of time,” Fynn’s father replied evasively.
“Yes, I’m sure we will have a promising report in the next council meeting,” Lord Gaffney concluded.
“Yes, until next time gentleman.” Fynn’s father seemed to jump on the opportunity to end the discussion as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for joining me today. I look forward to seeing you all for the evening meal.”
Fynn stood with everyone else and bowed to his father as the council meeting came to a close.
Chapter Two
Alana
Alana looked around her antechamber, unsure what to do. The fire was blazing in the hearth, but there was a chill she couldn’t quite escape. She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she would ever get used to the cold of Gaellen. If it would ever feel like home.
She still couldn’t believe this was her room. That this was her new home. It felt surreal. She had first stepped foot in Gaellen three weeks ago in Garvik. She’d been in Holden for just eight days, and it had all felt like a dream. Especially after being reunited with her long lost brother in addition to the bizarre events of the previous night, the dream was wilder than anything she could ever imagine. She half expected to be shaken awake by her head maid, Ellie, back in Latera, at any moment.
Yet it was her new Gaellen head maid, Bridget, who had prepared her for the day after presenting her with a note from Fynn explaining that he had gone to an emergency council meeting and would be back later. That had been hours ago.
Fynn had been her one constant since leaving Latera. He was the one comfortable link she had to this kingdom. Since her arrival, they had been nearly inseparable. They took their meals together, toured the castle together—Alana still hadn’t seen everything the castle had to offer—and his sudden absence was strange. It left her feeling unmoored and adrift. She knew he had a life and responsibilities in Holden, but she wasn’t sure where she was supposed to fit within that life as his betrothed. They had not discussed what her day-to-day would look like, if it was even supposed to look like anything.
She had busied herself with some drawing practice while she waited for Fynn to return, read a few Gaellen folktales from a storybook she found on her bookshelf, but as the time wore on, she was beginning to think it was time to venture out on her own. Perhaps she could visit with her brother, or maybe she could seek out Nakeera for afternoon tea? She had just decided to leave Fynn a note explaining where to find her when there was a short firm knock on her door.
Bridget rushed out to answer the door, and Alana waved the maid off, already close enough to answer it herself. She swept the door open to find Fynn standing on the other side. He was clad in a midnight blue jerkin over a crisp white, long-sleeved shirt and black trousers. His red hair was swept to the side as though he had run his hands through it multiple times. Alana’s heart skipped as he gave her his dimpled half grin, his eyes flicking down and then back up her form. “You’re beautiful, my love.”
She smiled demurely, stepping back to allow him in and closing the door behind him. “Did the council meeting just—”
The feel of Fynn’s lips over hers cut off her question as his hands wrapped around her waist. The scent of mint and cedar enveloped her as he deepened the kiss, and Alana sighed into his embrace, enjoying this sort of reunion.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke,” Fynn whispered, breaking the kiss and nuzzling into her neck.
“I got your note,” she replied, curling her fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“I don’t like being away from you.”
“It’s kind of weird when you’re not around,” she admitted, having just considered that fact herself.
She felt his chest expand on a deep breath, and, for a moment, they stood there in silent contentment. She may not know where she fit amidst this new life, but she was confident in Fynn’s love for her, and that knowledge gave her peace.
“Did the council meeting just end?” she asked again, stepping back to look him in the eyes.
“A while ago.” He turned to make his way over to the sitting area. “I was held up afterward. Many of the council members were eager to hear about my travels, and then I had a personal meeting with my father. Evidently my temporary leave has come to an end.”
Alana followed as he spoke, settling into a chair next to him by the roaring fire as he continued, “My father has put me in charge of castle security and evaluating the damage done to Gaellen from the earthquake.” He heaved a breath, threading his long pale fingers though his hair. “It’ll be lots of paperwork and meetings from here on out.”
Alana nodded, taking in this news. She’d had no idea that he was so involved in the kingdom’s affairs. Then again, she felt silly for not realizing it sooner. He had said his father was training him to rule the kingdom he would one day inherit. She supposed if Griffin had grown up in Sands, her father would have trained him up similarly.
“What does the rest of your day look like?”
“I have a meeting with the general soon to discuss castle security. I need to look over the number of soldiers we have stationed here and see where I can bring more in,” Fynn explained, propping his foot up on one knee as he leaned back in his chair.
“Were you always this busy or is it just because of the earthquake?” Alana asked, trying to get a grasp on what a normal day for him looked like.
“I’m usually pretty busy, but this earthquake has added more work. Plus with the new developments with your brother and Hoken, I imagine that will bring many more meetings as well,” he explained, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the chair as though already tired from his day.
Alana smoothed her pale pink dress over her knees. If he was going to be in and out of meetings all day, she couldn’t very well hang around her suite waiting for him to return. “So, while you’re busy being the prince, is there anything I’m supposed to do?”
Fynn lifted his head and looked over at her. “Has no one come to see you about that yet?”
“See me about what?”
A light, quick knock had them turning their attention to Bridget who emerged from a quiet corner to answer the door. Bridget curtsied to a pretty young lady with curly red hair before stepping aside to let her in and sweeping a hand toward the young woman. “Lady Dugan, Your Highnesses,” Bridget announced.
Fynn rose with a broad smile. “Hanna!”
“Fynn!” She met him halfway, and Alana watched as the two embraced in the middle of her antechamber. “It’s so good to see you! How long has it been, three, four months?”
“You’re being dramatic,” Fynn laughed, shaking his head. “You were here for the summer session and it only ended two months ago. I’ve been back home for a week. Where have you been?” He stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders as he surveyed her. “I didn’t see you at the feast last night.”
Hanna groaned. “My carriage broke a wheel just outside of Holden. I got to the castle right as the earthquake hit and everything was crazy so…” She trailed off when she caught sight of Alana who had risen from her seat to greet the newcomer.
Fynn turned and put his hand out to Alana. She smiled and made her way over to the pair, taking Fynn’s outstretched hand. “Hanna, this is Princess Alana. Alana, meet Hanna Dugan, daughter to Lord Kent Dugan who sits on my father’s council. She also happens to be one of my very good friends.”
Hanna dropped into a graceful curtsy as Alana joined them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Alana.”
“The pleasure is mine, Hanna,” Alana replied politely. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Fynn’s friends.”
“She hasn’t met everyone else yet?” Hanna asked, turning back to Fynn in surprise.
Fynn shook his head, slipping his arm around Alana’s waist as he said, “I didn’t get the chance to seek them out before the earthquake hit, and, you know, all the crazy happened.”
“Well I’m honored to be the first among us,” Hanna replied brightly, facing Alana once more. “It’s probably for the best anyway. It’ll give me a chance to properly prepare you.” She leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “The boys are like wild animals and require special treatment to keep tame.”
Alana giggled as Fynn cried, “hey!”
“Oh, you know I don’t mean you,” Hanna crooned, patting Fynn’s chest with exaggerated affection. “But don’t pretend our little group of friends tend to get out of control without our constant supervision and correction.”
“Unfortunately, she does speak the truth,” Fynn confirmed regrettably. “Since Hanna joined our group, she’s managed to keep my friends in line better than I ever did.”
Hanna waved a dismissive hand. “It’s only that I back you up. We’ve made an effective team at managing the little lords of the kingdom.”
“You’d think that since I’m their prince, they’d have a little more respect for what I have to say,” Fynn remarked.
“It’s because you’re all such close friends,” Hanna explained. “It’s hard for them to take you seriously, no matter your title.”
Fynn gave a dramatic sigh as he looked up. “Ah, the difficulties of being a prince.”
“I know it’s hard,” Hanna pouted sympathetically. “But it’s a good thing you have me!” She glanced at Alana and then added, “and now the princess! I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you.” She winked, and Alana laughed lightly. It was fun to see this side of Fynn’s life. There was still so much she had to learn about him.
“Which brings us to the purpose of my visit,” Hanna announced with a clap. “Are you ready to go, Princess?”
At Alana’s look of confusion, Hanna turned to Fynn. “Did you not tell her?”
“I was just about to,” Fynn replied. “I thought my mother already did, but I guess the earthquake has thrown us all off.”
“Tell me what?” Alana asked, looking between them expectantly.
“Since you’ll be the Crown Princess of Gaellen once we’re married,” Fynn began, releasing her waist so he could face her fully. “There’s certain things you need to know about our kingdom.”
“Hierarchy, protocol, history, that sort of thing,” Hanna added with a wave of her hand.
Fynn nodded as he went on. “My mother has arranged everything so that you can easily adjust to your new role here in Gaellen.”
“And I volunteered to help you along in the process,” Hanna explained brightly. “To start, you’ll be meeting all the ladies of the court over afternoon tea.”
“That’s great, actually,” Alana replied. “I was wondering what responsibilities I might have here.”
“Excellent!” Fynn clapped his hands together. “I’ll leave you two to it then. I need get to my meeting with the general now anyway.”
He slipped an arm around Alana, pulling her to him as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, then her nose and finally her lips. Entirely self-conscious of his display of affection in front of Hanna, Alana moved back, confident her face was five different shades of red. He met her eyes with a grin before waving goodbye to Hanna and making his departure.
***
The Women’s Room was a large sitting room on the lower level of the North Wing decorated in colors of creams and light purples. Oversized armchairs and plush couches took up the center of the room with dainty side tables holding vases of elegant flower arrangements set atop each one. A large crystal chandelier hung above, casting a glittering light over the room. Toward the back, two sets of double doors opened up to the opulent Queen’s Garden.
When Alana and Hanna stepped inside, she was greeted with cries of ‘Oh she’s so beautiful!’ to ‘Look at that hair!’ to ‘What a treasure!’ as the ladies stood up, cooing and crooning over her.
Queen Erynn and Princess Brynn were also in attendance, both women dressed similarly in velvet long-sleeved dresses. The queen mother gave her a warm hug in greeting as Brynn smiled politely before they all took their seats. Alana chose a soft armchair across from the queen and between Brynn and Hanna.
After everyone helped themselves to tea—a rich, fruit-flavored tea that Alana had never tried before—the queen went through the introductions. Alana was then hounded with all sorts of questions about Latera and what it was like there. Recalling and explaining the warm sand, the salty air, and the bright blue skies had her heart aching for her kingdom. She hadn’t truly begun to miss home until she was made to recall all that she had left behind. When the conversation soon drifted to talk of the wedding, she was grateful for the change in subject.
“You simply must have white flowers!”
“But purple is the color of royalty! She is a royal bride after all.”
“Oh, I know! What about blue and green flowers to represent each kingdom!”
“Have you ever seen a green flower? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“What do you think, Princess Alana?” Lady Loughlin asked, taking a large bite of her puff pastry. “The flowers are a big part of the ceremony. Choose the wrong color and the whole event will be a bust.”
To her right, Brynn snorted into her tea cup. Alana had been enjoying getting to know Fynn’s twin sister. She was something of an enigma to Alana. As the Royal Presence in Gaellen, she was like the bridge between the people and the royal family. Alana assumed the position required a certain amount of diplomacy and charisma. However, Alana had yet to see her demonstrate such qualities in the short time she’d had with her. Despite the lack of those traits, there was something about the princess that endeared her to Alana. Whether it was because Brynn was Fynn’s twin, or she simply had her own unique brand of charm, Alana couldn’t help but like her soon-to-be sister in law.
“I haven’t actually thought about the flowers. Planning events was never really my strong suit,” Alana admitted, taking a sip of her tea and trying not to wrinkle her nose. The fruit tea tasted almost bitter. “My mother was always the one to enjoy the process of putting an event together.”
“Well we’ll have to change that,” Lady Olesund interjected in a nasally pitch. “As the Ascendant Queen of Gaellen, a large part of your responsibility will be planning events.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Queen Erynn added softly. “I’ll be here to help you all along the way.”
“What about irises?” Brynn proffered. “Mother, you had irises for your wedding, didn’t you?”
Queen Erynn smiled, gently lifting her teacup. “I did. They’re my favorite.”
“Perhaps you could choose a flower you like,” Lady Roan suggested helpfully. “Do you have a favorite flower?”
“Sunflowers are my favorite,” Alana replied with a nod.
“Oh, that won’t do. Yellow flowers are bad luck,” noted Lady Boland, vigorously shaking her head as her long dangling earrings jangled on either side of her face. “Definitely not suitable for a wedding.”
“What about roses?” proffered Lady Olesund, stirring a hefty dose of sugar into her tea. Alana wondered if the noblewoman actually enjoyed it that way or if she was trying to make the bitter tea taste better.
“Good gracious no!” Lady Loughlin exclaimed. “The rose is the official flower of Zimerah! You definitely can’t have roses.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Lady Olesund replied with pink cheeks, bringing the newly sweetened tea to her lips.
“I only discovered as much after the regretful situation of Nor Isund,” Lady Loughlin explained. She lowered her voice and leaned toward them conspiratorially. “It was rumored that when the Zimerans conquered Nor Isund, they covered the beaches with red roses. From the sea, it looked as though blood spilled off the island.”
Queen Erynn shook her head, swallowing her sip of tea before she said, “That was only a rumor, Margot. The rose is the official flower of Zimerah, but that story is not true.”
Warmth crept up Lady Loughlin’s neck. “Right, yes. Well, you can’t have the Zimeran flower decorating a Gaellen and Latera wedding,” she concluded with finality.
“It is entirely up to Alana,” announced Queen Erynn, giving Alana her full attention as she added, “Do you have any thoughts about the wedding, dear? Not necessarily flowers, but is there anything specific you’d like to have? It is your day after all.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Alana replied tactfully, taking another sip of her tea out of habit. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t given her wedding a single thought in, well, ever. When she had said her mother planned all the events, it was because she had no interest in the process whatsoever. In fact, she wasn’t looking forward to having to plan her own wedding or any other Gaellen events for that matter.
“I believe Fynn has a few ideas about the wedding,” Hanna piped in. “He once mentioned he’d like to release doves as you walk down the aisle.”
Brynn gave another little snort, not bothering to hide the sound in her tea cup this time.
“It’s true,” Hanna insisted, side-eyeing Brynn. “He also said he’d like to have a stuffed hog for the wedding feast.”
“A stuffed hog! Good gracious, he can’t be serious,” Lady Loughlin cried over a mouthful of jam and bread. The other ladies vehemently shouted down that suggestion, and Alana smiled over her tea cup, continuing to drink it even as the bitter taste was not at all enjoyable. She mentally made a note to tease Fynn about his ideas on the wedding the next time she saw him.
“What about you, Princess Brynn?” Lady Olesund prompted, seated on Brynn’s other side. “Have you any thoughts on your future wedding?”
Brynn visibly stiffened in her chair. “Oh I don’t want to take the focus off Fynn and Alana. My time will come at some point.”
“My son has not been able to speak of anything or anyone else but you for quite some time,” Lady Olesund went on with a wide grin, ignoring Brynn’s attempts to change the subject. “You two really do make the cutest couple.”
“I agree,” Queen Erynn added, setting her tea cup down in her lap and eyeing her daughter with bright interest. “Your wedding will be next, my dear.”
“Let’s stay on track here. Fynn and Alana’s wedding is just under six weeks away,” Brynn reminded, tossing her long hair over her shoulder with one hand. “And their wedding will mean so much more given that it’s between two different kingdoms.”
“Your wedding will be no less special, but I could use all the help I can get to prepare for mine,” Alana added, attempting to come to Brynn’s rescue. “Would it be silly to have purple irises when they were used in the last royal wedding?”
“Not at all, dear,” Queen Erynn replied, clearly pleased with the suggestion. As the ladies carried on with the topic of flowers, Brynn shot her a thankful smile. Alana tipped her head in acknowledgement. Ready to completely abandon her foul-tasting tea, she leaned forward, reaching to set the cup on the table before her when her stomach suddenly twisted painfully. The tea cup shattered as she doubled over, dropping it and clutching at her stomach.
Alana looked up at the noblewomen in the room and could see many of them hunched over as well, grimaces tainting their expressions. Alana’s vision became blurry, and a surge of panic ripped through her as understanding set in. Poison. Alana opened her mouth to call out for help, but there was a burning in her throat. She choked on the words.
She heard a thud and realized that she was on the ground. She must have fallen out of her chair. A convulsion wracked her midsection as she gripped her writhing stomach. The sound of coughing gasps filled the room as everyone dropped to the ground.
Alana attempted crawling to the door to try and get some help. There were no guards inside the Women’s Room. She remembered Hanna explaining on their way that as the name suggested, the Women’s Room was reserved exclusively for the queen and her female guests. As she reached the door, she again tried to call for help but only strangled gasps came out. Putting out a trembling arm, she feebly hit the door hoping, praying, that a guard or someone was stationed just on the other side. A single tear slipped out as she became aware that all she could do was lay there and die.
I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek at A Game of Truth and Lies. The ebook is already up for pre-order if you’d like the book delivered straight to your Kindle on release day. And if you haven’t already, be sure to browse the blog for all sorts of fun extras posted!