THE ORCHID THRONE
Forgotten Empires, Book #1
by Jeffe Kennedy
St. Martin's Press
Young Adult Fantasy
384 pages
A PRISONER OF FATE
As Queen of the island kingdom of Calanthe, Euthalia will do anything to keep her people free—and her secrets safe—from the mad tyrant who rules the mainland. Guided by a magic ring of her father’s, Lia plays the political game with the cronies the emperor sends to her island. In her heart, she knows that it’s up to her to save herself from her fate as the emperor’s bride. But in her dreams, she sees a man, one with the power to build a better world—a man whose spirit is as strong, and whose passion is as fierce as her own…
A PRINCE AMONG MEN
Conrí, former Crown Prince of Oriel, has built an army to overthrow the emperor. But he needs the fabled Abiding Ring to succeed. The ring that Euthalia holds so dear to her heart. When the two banished rulers meet face to face, neither can deny the flames of rebellion that flicker in their eyes—nor the fires of desire that draw them together. But in this broken world of shattered kingdoms, can they ever really trust each other? Can their fiery alliance defeat the shadows of evil that threaten to engulf their hearts and souls?
MY TIDBITS
This is a romance but with very rich fantasy and so much more.
An emperor has taken over all kingdoms and enslaved them. Mercilessly. Only one kingdom still remains relatively free, and that because they went for peace and passive relations from the first moment the emperor landed on their shores. The cost, among other things, was the hand of Calanthe in marriage. When her father dies, she is now queen of her country and has no intention of giving the emperor any more control of her island than he already has. But she walks a very difficult line. Conri is known as the King of the Slaves and leads a rebellion against the emperor and needs the ring Calanthe wears to win. When they meet, more than sparks fly.
Fantasy fans will enjoy this world. It is rich, layered and full of battles and intrigue. At the same time, it is a romance. Right away, it's clear that the hero and heroine are destined for each other. While sparks fly and romantic tension builds, there is so much more going on. The Emperor is ruthless, and Conri and Calanthe have much to protect as they try their best to defeat the powerful man. It's layered, and it's deep.
This is a heavier read, and while there is quite a bit of action, some parts drag a little. The first chapters have quite a bit to introduce...this is a rich world...but that pushes the pacing a bit back. It is, however, interesting and does set a wonderful stage for everything to come. The rest flows mostly very well, and the writing weaves smoothly. Some of the dialogue drags out a little long, again trading a quicker pace for more depth. As an action fan, it wasn't quite what I'd hoped, but the story still is very well done and draws in. It will be interesting to see where the rest of the series leads.
SNEAK PEEK
“Arise, Your Highness. The realm awaits the sun of Your
presence.”
The ritual words cut through the thick smoke of the
nightmare, bringing me awake with a start. A bad omen that I hadn’t come out of
the dreams on my own—and a sign that gave the images the power to linger in my
mind, stains refusing to be scrubbed clean.
The wolf fought its chains, howling in hoarse rage, shedding
fire and ash.
The sea churned, bloodred and crimson dark, bones tossed in
the waves, white as foam.
The tower fell into a pile of golden rubble, then to fine
sand, the grains sliding against one another with soul-grinding whispered
screams.
I loathe dreaming, where I have even less control than in
the waking world. Calanthe Herself sings sweetly to me of the seas, the plants,
and the creatures that walk Her soil. But outside our fragile island, the
abandoned lands beyond cry like frightened children in the night. I can’t help
them. It’s all I can do to protect Calanthe, and most days I despair of being
able to do even that.
Still, with no one else to hear them, they call to me in
chaotic images, the nightmares dashing me from one dark scenario to the next.
No matter how the dreams plague me, I usually wake when the light of the rising
sun reddens my eyelids. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to anyone who checks
on me that I’m still asleep. Pulling the pieces of my composure together, I
listen to the morning song of Calanthe. The birds sitting high in the canopy to
catch the first warming rays of the sun show me the sky. The fish swimming in
the sea speak of clean water and plentiful food. Even the trees, the flowers,
the small insects in the soil all hum to me of their lives.
All reassure me of the balance, that Calanthe, at least, is
peaceful and vital.
Only I and the land I’m tied to exist in that time after
sleep and before true waking, in what I call the dreamthink, an almost
enchanted bubble where I belong entirely to Calanthe. The emperor does not own
me. The crying lands he’s orphaned are silent. My ladies have not yet woken me
to wrenching reality and the trials of the day ahead.
Dreams always seem to me a terrible price to pay for the
succor of sleep. Neither my naturalists nor my physicians seem to be able to
explain the purpose of such dreams. And of course, Anure killed all the
wizards, so I have none to tell me if magic can answer those nighttime screams.
So without answers, and like the exorbitant tithes I’m forced to send to the
emperor, I do pay the price, and nightly. The dreamthink is my reward, my time
with Calanthe. A gift arising from waking Ejarat of the earth welcoming the
return of Her husband, Sawehl of the sun. In the dreamthink, in Calanthe’s
sweet communion, I can believe the old gods are with us still, that they
haven’t abandoned us. That I have reason to hope.
“Euthalia, wake up. We’re ready,” Tertulyn whispered in my
ear. My first lady-in-waiting, doing her duty as always. She couldn’t know
she’d woken me from the nightmare instead of the dreamthink. Or that starting
my day this way meant it would be certainly cursed.
No one believes in omens or curses anymore. Or hope, for
that matter. In this, too, I am alone.
Euthalia is a
mouthful, but no one calls me that except for Tertulyn so it doesn’t matter.
Only Emperor Anure has the rank to address me by my given name, and I avoid
conversation with His Imperial Nastiness to the best of my ability. Tertulyn
has called me by my name since we were children, but only when no one can
overhear, as etiquette demands.
As if she’d whispered them into my ear along with my name,
the concerns of the realm immediately flooded my mind. The emperor’s emissary
should have returned in the night and would want an audience with me—something
I’d been dreading, as he never brought good news. Rumors had spread of slave
uprisings, possibly even rebellion, as unlikely as that would be, that had the
emperor both angry and insecure in his power. The worst possible combination in
a man like him.
If I believed a rebellion could succeed, I would rejoice in
the battle to come. But I had no hope of that. No one could defy Anure’s vast
power and ability to destroy the least whimper of resistance, as all those
kingless and queenless lands testified, crying their hopelessness to me every
night.
No, such rumors meant the Imperial Tyrant would only tighten
his fist—one that already strangled us nearly to death. The prospect of worse
to come made me inexpressibly weary, and I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.
Nevertheless, I had to face the day. A realm awaited the sun
of my presence, after all.
I opened my eyes and pasted a serene smile on my lips.
Tertulyn—already wigged, gowned, and decked in fresh
flowers—stood a decorous three steps back from my bed, hands folded over her
heart. All equally polished and lovely as morning dew, my five junior ladies
awaited in a ring around her. They’d all been up since well before dawn to
dress themselves before attending me. And yet their eyes sparkled as brightly
as the birds that had shown me the sun on the sea, pretty painted lips curved
in delighted smiles. Though I was only twenty-six, they made me feel old.
If a witch offered me a magic potion to remove the last ten
years and restore my youth—and the innocent belief I’d had then, that my life
would be a good one—I’d down it without question. Even if it meant my death the
next day. No, that was a lie. I would never shirk my duty to Calanthe, not even
for such a fantasy. Not without an heir to take my place. No matter how old and
tired I felt.
And here she is...
JEFFE KENNEDY is an
award-winning, bestselling author who writes fantasy, fantasy romance, and
contemporary romance. She serves on the Board of Directors for SFWA as a
Director at Large.
Her most recent works include Prisoner of the Crown and the
upcoming Exile of the Seas, from her high fantasy trilogy from
Rebel Base books, The Chronicles of Dasnaria, in the same world as
her award-winning fantasy series The Twelve Kingdoms and The
Uncharted Realms. She is a hybrid author, and also self-publishes a fantasy
series, Sorcerous Moons. Her books have won the RT Reviewers’
Choice Best Fantasy Romance of 2015, been named Best Book of June 2014, and won
RWA’s prestigious RITA® Award.
She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful
free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.
Jeffe can be found online at her website: JeffeKennedy.com, every Sunday at the
SFF Seven blog, on Facebook, on Goodreads and on Twitter @jeffekennedy.
Author Twitter: @jeffekennedy
SMP Romance Twitter: @SMPRomance
or @heroesnhearts
SMP Romance Website: https://heroesandheartbreakers.com/
Sherry D. Ficklin is a full time writer from Colorado where she lives with her husband, four kids, two dogs, and a fluctuating number of chickens and house guests. A former military brat, she loves to travel and meet new people. She can often be found browsing her local bookstore with a large white hot chocolate in one hand and a towering stack of books in the other. That is, unless she’s on deadline at which time she, like the Loch Ness monster, is only seen in blurry photographs.
