It's time share the cover of To Know a Dragon Spy. If you're subscribed to my newsletter, you saw this in October's edition, but this post also includes an excerpt, which wasn't in the newsletter. If you're a newsletter reader, you also know that I meant to have this book finished and released this past spring, but post covid issues completely messed up all my plans for the past year. Natasha Snow (who is amazing) made this gorgeous cover for me with that anticipated release date in mind, and I've been sitting here with it since then.
I'm tired of keeping it a secret.
I'm still not certain when To Know the Dragon Spy will make it into your hands, but I'm doing my best and I'll let you know as soon as I know. In the meantime, feast your eyes on this gorgeous cover, and if you can tear your eyes away from it, read the draft blurb and excerpt from the beginning of the book (just as a warning, both will probably change as I finish the book).
Felix is a prince, cousin of the current king, ward of the old king. Knowing he would never sit on the throne, he set himself to become something else—the king's best spy. Aside from a trusted few, people know him as a frivolous, flirtatious prince. They don't see the keen mind behind the silks and jewels or the love of family and quiet behind the charming smile. They certainly don't know he is the eyes and ears of the king. Months later, he still blames himself for missing the plot against Ivria and its king, and he's going to find the last few members of the conspiracy out there. If the commander of the King's Guard will get out of his way.
Alan is commander of the king's guard, a role he set himself on a path for when he was very young. He takes his duty seriously, so seriously there is little room for anything else in his life, especially with the now heightened danger to the royal family—not the things he used to enjoy or family or even love. He buried his attraction to beautiful Prince Felix long ago, but when he finds out Felix is more than he appears, Alan immediately becomes suspicious. Is Felix working for the king or against him? Alan can't let himself be fooled by a pretty face, especially one that hides so much.
But the real danger is closer than Alan or Felix realizes, and they're going to have to get over their animosity for each other—and deal with the desire that sparks when they do—if they're going to survive it.
Excerpt
Felix lounged against the balustrade of the balcony above Wyndward Castle’s courtyard. His pose was carefully constructed to give the impression of a prince lazily enjoying the warmth of a late summer day and the view out over the courtyard and down the hill to the town and the lake. From the distance, no observer would be able to see the sharpness of his gaze.
He was enjoying the late summer day, the gentle breeze making him wish he was gliding along it on outstretched wings instead of letting it ruffle his dark hair, but the pleasant weather wasn’t what had him outside this morning. The activity below him had drawn him out and kept his attention. With the king’s marriage rapidly approaching, the area surrounding the castle was bustling with far more people than it usually saw at once, even as the home of Ivria’s king. And each of those people was a potential threat.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, and Felix wasn’t going to allow himself become perpetually suspicious just because it wasn’t so many months ago that they had discovered a treasonous plot against the king and kingdom. Lysander hadn’t become paranoid—more protective, certainly, with his country and family and a soon-to-be husband to protect, but not paranoid about everyone’s motives. And Felix wouldn’t either, but he was keenly aware that they hadn’t apprehended everyone involved in that plot.
It had been an insidious conspiracy, one that had spread tendrils through some of the leading families in the clans. Made up of people who believed those with the dragon Talent were superior to those that could not transform into dragons, who believed Ivria should not keep itself safe and secret but should go out into the wider world beyond the mountains that concealed them. And then rule that world by dint of their supposed superiority.
Felix thought the whole thing mad.
They were no better than anyone else because they had the dragon Talent instead of some other magic or no magic at all, and there was no reason to think anything would be different if they emerged into the world once more and revealed dragons to be anything other than legend. No reason to believe the hunts wouldn’t begin again.
Felix gave himself a mental shake and focused on the scene before him. The mood appeared entirely celebratory. People were arriving by wing, horse, or carriage already, taking lodging in town or camping near the lake if they didn’t have claim to the limited accommodations in the castle. Children played, vendors sold their wares, and dragons wheeled in the clear blue sky. Today, surveying this scene, it was difficult to believe that all of Ivria had been rocked by the reveal of the conspiracy, shock and horror rippling out through the country leaving a somber mood in its wake. Ivria’s people needed this celebration, needed it to shake off the horror of what had happened. To show their support for their king, a king beloved by so many.
Felix wished he could let what had happened go quite so easily. Perhaps if it were really over he could begin to put it behind him, could begin to come to terms with how something so large had taken root under his very nose.
Wasn’t this his whole purpose? For nearly his entire life, he’d molded himself into what he’d become, honed himself to be of use to Lysander, his king, his cousin. The man who was more a brother to him than the one he’d been born with. His fingers curled against the stone. Felix would not fail again.
The door behind him opened, and he forced his fingers to uncurl, letting his hand fall into a deliberate, graceful pose. Then he relaxed truly when Thalia stepped outside.
“There you are.” The princess closed the door behind her and crossed to Felix, the amber silk of her gown swishing around her legs with each step. She was dressed for court, as he was, her gown at the height of fashion and perfectly cut for her lush figure, her thick, dark hair intricately braided and threaded with pearls, more pearls dangling from her ears and circling her neck. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”
“I’m not meant to be anywhere at the moment.”
“No, not quite yet. We have to go down to greet today’s arrivals soon.” Her face was set into serene lines as she studied the same scene that had held his attention. It was unlikely someone could see the nuances of their expressions at such a distance, but better to be safe than let anything slip.
They were both thrilled Lysander had found Sascha—Sascha was the perfect match for him and a perfect addition to their little family—but the wedding festivities were work.
“You know I wouldn’t abandon you to it,” Felix said.
“I know.” She turned to him, her gaze shrewd. “So why are you out here brooding?”
“I am not brooding. I do not brood. I came out for some fresh air.”
Thalia laughed. The rich sound floated out on the breeze and drew the attention of people in the courtyard. There were respectful acknowledgements when the people below realized who was on the balcony, but most returned to their business quickly, used to the sight of the royals or too busy to be bothered. A few—visitors who likely hadn’t spent much time at Wyndward—continued to stare until they were encouraged along into the castle.
“Fine, you’re not brooding, which is good because Alan does enough of that for all of us.” Thalia’s lips quirked into a slight smile when Felix snorted inelegantly. “You are worrying though.”
“Of course.” They hadn’t caught everyone involved in the plot—Jannick’s son was still out there, and there was at least one other person working with him. And now crowds of people were gathering at Wyndward and too many of them would be too close to the king. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied simply. “But we can’t change the situation. Lysander and Sascha couldn’t have married quietly.”
No, they couldn’t have. It would have shown weakness and deprived Ivria’s people of the festivity they needed. “We can only be so careful.”
Thalia hummed thoughtfully. “Have you heard anything?”
“No.” And he was listening. Information was his trade, so to speak. Which was why not discovering the plot sooner still rankled.
“Not yet. But I’m going to learn everything about and from everyone who comes here for the wedding.”
“From anyone else, I’d think that was an exaggeration, but I know you’ll do it.”
“I won’t miss something again.”
“We all missed it.” She sighed when he said nothing. “I know you won’t. Just don’t become suspicious of everyone, all right? We have Alan for that.”
Felix managed not to make a face at the reminder of the commander’s attitude. Thalia would know how he felt anyway.
“Come on,” Thalia continued. “We have to go in, or we’ll be late.”
“Yes.” Felix glanced up as they turned. Some of the dragons in the sky were royal guards—Alan’s people flying patterns over the castle and surrounding area, alert for any threats. Alan had the security well in hand; Felix had his own work to do. He tore his gaze from the sky and followed Thalia inside.
He was enjoying the late summer day, the gentle breeze making him wish he was gliding along it on outstretched wings instead of letting it ruffle his dark hair, but the pleasant weather wasn’t what had him outside this morning. The activity below him had drawn him out and kept his attention. With the king’s marriage rapidly approaching, the area surrounding the castle was bustling with far more people than it usually saw at once, even as the home of Ivria’s king. And each of those people was a potential threat.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, and Felix wasn’t going to allow himself become perpetually suspicious just because it wasn’t so many months ago that they had discovered a treasonous plot against the king and kingdom. Lysander hadn’t become paranoid—more protective, certainly, with his country and family and a soon-to-be husband to protect, but not paranoid about everyone’s motives. And Felix wouldn’t either, but he was keenly aware that they hadn’t apprehended everyone involved in that plot.
It had been an insidious conspiracy, one that had spread tendrils through some of the leading families in the clans. Made up of people who believed those with the dragon Talent were superior to those that could not transform into dragons, who believed Ivria should not keep itself safe and secret but should go out into the wider world beyond the mountains that concealed them. And then rule that world by dint of their supposed superiority.
Felix thought the whole thing mad.
They were no better than anyone else because they had the dragon Talent instead of some other magic or no magic at all, and there was no reason to think anything would be different if they emerged into the world once more and revealed dragons to be anything other than legend. No reason to believe the hunts wouldn’t begin again.
Felix gave himself a mental shake and focused on the scene before him. The mood appeared entirely celebratory. People were arriving by wing, horse, or carriage already, taking lodging in town or camping near the lake if they didn’t have claim to the limited accommodations in the castle. Children played, vendors sold their wares, and dragons wheeled in the clear blue sky. Today, surveying this scene, it was difficult to believe that all of Ivria had been rocked by the reveal of the conspiracy, shock and horror rippling out through the country leaving a somber mood in its wake. Ivria’s people needed this celebration, needed it to shake off the horror of what had happened. To show their support for their king, a king beloved by so many.
Felix wished he could let what had happened go quite so easily. Perhaps if it were really over he could begin to put it behind him, could begin to come to terms with how something so large had taken root under his very nose.
Wasn’t this his whole purpose? For nearly his entire life, he’d molded himself into what he’d become, honed himself to be of use to Lysander, his king, his cousin. The man who was more a brother to him than the one he’d been born with. His fingers curled against the stone. Felix would not fail again.
The door behind him opened, and he forced his fingers to uncurl, letting his hand fall into a deliberate, graceful pose. Then he relaxed truly when Thalia stepped outside.
“There you are.” The princess closed the door behind her and crossed to Felix, the amber silk of her gown swishing around her legs with each step. She was dressed for court, as he was, her gown at the height of fashion and perfectly cut for her lush figure, her thick, dark hair intricately braided and threaded with pearls, more pearls dangling from her ears and circling her neck. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”
“I’m not meant to be anywhere at the moment.”
“No, not quite yet. We have to go down to greet today’s arrivals soon.” Her face was set into serene lines as she studied the same scene that had held his attention. It was unlikely someone could see the nuances of their expressions at such a distance, but better to be safe than let anything slip.
They were both thrilled Lysander had found Sascha—Sascha was the perfect match for him and a perfect addition to their little family—but the wedding festivities were work.
“You know I wouldn’t abandon you to it,” Felix said.
“I know.” She turned to him, her gaze shrewd. “So why are you out here brooding?”
“I am not brooding. I do not brood. I came out for some fresh air.”
Thalia laughed. The rich sound floated out on the breeze and drew the attention of people in the courtyard. There were respectful acknowledgements when the people below realized who was on the balcony, but most returned to their business quickly, used to the sight of the royals or too busy to be bothered. A few—visitors who likely hadn’t spent much time at Wyndward—continued to stare until they were encouraged along into the castle.
“Fine, you’re not brooding, which is good because Alan does enough of that for all of us.” Thalia’s lips quirked into a slight smile when Felix snorted inelegantly. “You are worrying though.”
“Of course.” They hadn’t caught everyone involved in the plot—Jannick’s son was still out there, and there was at least one other person working with him. And now crowds of people were gathering at Wyndward and too many of them would be too close to the king. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied simply. “But we can’t change the situation. Lysander and Sascha couldn’t have married quietly.”
No, they couldn’t have. It would have shown weakness and deprived Ivria’s people of the festivity they needed. “We can only be so careful.”
Thalia hummed thoughtfully. “Have you heard anything?”
“No.” And he was listening. Information was his trade, so to speak. Which was why not discovering the plot sooner still rankled.
“Not yet. But I’m going to learn everything about and from everyone who comes here for the wedding.”
“From anyone else, I’d think that was an exaggeration, but I know you’ll do it.”
“I won’t miss something again.”
“We all missed it.” She sighed when he said nothing. “I know you won’t. Just don’t become suspicious of everyone, all right? We have Alan for that.”
Felix managed not to make a face at the reminder of the commander’s attitude. Thalia would know how he felt anyway.
“Come on,” Thalia continued. “We have to go in, or we’ll be late.”
“Yes.” Felix glanced up as they turned. Some of the dragons in the sky were royal guards—Alan’s people flying patterns over the castle and surrounding area, alert for any threats. Alan had the security well in hand; Felix had his own work to do. He tore his gaze from the sky and followed Thalia inside.
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