Whether King Trenor will live or die is anyone’s guess, but Soriana and Ranneth aren’t about to leave it to chance. Instead, they flee to the east in a desperate bid to find the one healer who can bring him back from the brink.
Leaving the throne in the hands of a man incapable of defending their nation against their enemies to the west is the least of Soriana’s problems. With threats coming from all sides, and the stability of Oran crumbling around her, she will finally discover just how strong she is, and how far she’s willing to go to save her people, her nation, and the love she’s held at arm’s length for far too long.
Series is well-loved by readers with strong reviews.
Big shouldered men jostled each other, elbows meeting ribs, feet scraping heels. The scent from pent up testosterone and adrenaline hung ripe in the air in the oversized canvas structure that served as the communal mess tent, filling the nose and all the spaces between bodies. At least the masculine energy crammed cheek by jowl in the flimsy structure was of a jovial nature, spirits high after such a long slug of it.
Ranneth shifted his feet, edging closer to the grimy canvas to get away from the excitement. It wasn’t possible to completely get away, but at least he had a spare inch or two nearer the perimeter. He desperately wished to be away from all of these men he spent every waking hour with, but he just as desperately did not want to be alone. Not tonight.
“Ranneth!” The voice made him jerk his head around to see Trenor making his way through a particularly close crush of bodies in the far corner, all hunched together playing a lively game of blood dice, curses and back slaps wringing out through the thick air. Ranneth smiled at his friend’s approach, the cure to his temporary indecision.
He’d been livid when his commanding officer had reassigned him to the prince’s regiment, knowing exactly what that detail meant. It meant you were good enough to be promoted well, but instead of doing any actual soldiering, they’d be stuck babysitting the king’s only heir. It meant being in a highly skilled yet largely unused regiment since the King of Oran wouldn’t want his son in any real harm. In truth, they were glorified bodyguards.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Tarsia Cruz
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by mariana martinez
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