Where Oleanders Grow

Beatrice has one rule at the ruthless court of Drennwick: never confuse love with a treaty.

As Secretary of Foreign Correspondence, she has drafted enough royal alliances to know that every marriage in Drennwick is a gilded cage; its hinges polished with charm, its lock sealed with betrayal. Once, she believed in love. Once, it nearly destroyed her. Now her heart is a fortress, walled, watchful, and cold by necessity.

But when Queen Katherine pairs her with the infuriatingly composed Counsel Edward to vet a pre-nuptial contract, Beatrice expects monotony, not danger. What they uncover isn't diplomacy, it's treason. The agreement, disguised as a royal union, would hand Drennwick to its oldest rival, Veridia.

Bound by duty, Beatrice and Edward must trace the deception through candlelit archives and the perfumed corridors of court, where every whisper could be a betrayal. They are intellectual equals, her wit against his restraint, her cynicism against his maddening calm, and the closer their investigation draws them together, the more the cracks in her carefully built armor begin to show.

He looks at her as though he could read her, not the polished surface, but the fractures beneath. And she, despite everything she's learned, starts to wonder what it would cost to be seen.

The court is a chessboard, and every move is deadly. She reads the heart; he, the law. But in a world where the Queen plays for keeps and the enemy already knows their names, love isn't forbidden... it's fatal.