Now I Rise: Demand the Crown (And I Darken, Band 2) - Softcover

White, Kiersten

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1524764736 ISBN 13: 9781524764739

Verlag: Delacorte Press, 2017

Inhaltsangabe

The highly anticipated, mind-blowing New York Times bestselling sequel to Kiersten White’s New York Times bestseller, AND I DARKEN—the series that reads like HBO’s Game of Thrones . . . if it were set in the Ottoman Empire. 
 
A SISTER FILLED WITH RAGE
Lada Dracul has no allies. No crown. All she has is what she’s always had: herself. After failing to secure the Wallachian throne, Lada is out to punish anyone who dares cross her. She storms the countryside with her men, but brute force isn’t getting Lada what she wants. And thinking of Mehmed, the defiant Ottoman sultan, brings little comfort to her thorny heart. There’s no time to wonder whether he still thinks about her, even loves her. She left him before he could leave her.

HER BROTHER CAUGHT IN THE CROSSHAIRS
Lada needs the support of her diplomatic younger brother, Radu. But Mehmed has sent him to Constantinople—and it’s no diplomatic mission. Mehmed wants control of the city, and Radu has earned an unwanted place as a double-crossing spy behind enemy lines. And for the first time in his life, when Lada asks him for help, he refuses . . . leading his sister to make the darkest of choices.

THE ULTIMATE POWER PLAY
Torn between loyalties to faith, to the Ottomans, and to Mehmed, Radu knows he owes Lada nothing. If she dies, he could never forgive himself—but if he fails in Constantinople, would Mehmed ever forgive him? 

As nations fall around them, the Dracul siblings must decide: what will they sacrifice to fulfill their destinies? Empires will topple, thrones will be won . . . and souls will be lost. 

Fans of Victoria Aveyard’s THE RED QUEEN and Sabaa Tahir’s A TORCH AGAINST THE NIGHT won’t want to miss this riveting and gorgeously written novel—the second in the And I Darken series.


★ "Gorgeous, rich, and rewarding."—Booklist, starred review

★ "Absolutely devastating in the best way."—Kirkus, starred review

“A+, 5 knives.”—Amie Kaufman, New York Times bestselling co-author of the STARBOUND and ILLUMINAE FILES trilogies
 
“Fierce, epic, and crazy fun.”—Melissa Albert, New York Times bestselling author of THE HAZEL WOOD

A Teen Choice Book Award nominee!


Praise for And I Darken:
 
“A dark jewel of a story, one that gleams with fierce, cunning characters—absolutely riveting.” —Alexandra Bracken, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Passenger
 
“A dark, gritty, and seriously badass epic that will have you dying for more . . . required reading for every feminist fantasy fan.” —BuzzFeed
 
“Evocative . . . this book takes no prisoners.” —NPR

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

KIERSTEN WHITE is the New York Times bestselling author of the And I Darken and Paranormalcy series, and many more novels. She lives with her family near the ocean in San Diego, which, in spite of its perfection, spurs her to dream of faraway places and even further away times.
 
kierstenwhite.com
Follow Kiersten at @kierstenwhite on Twitter and @authorkierstenwhite on Instagram.

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1

 

 

January 1453

 

 

 

Hell was a party.

 

At least, Radu was fairly certain that whatever hell there was would certainly resemble this party.

 

Music drifted like perfume on the air, enough to sweeten but not overwhelm. Groups of musicians were scattered across the island; they could be glimpsed among the hardy green that had survived the winter months. Though the main meal would come later, blue-clad servants floated through the crowds with food-laden trays shaped like lily pads. On either side of the island, the Tunca River flowed leisurely by.

 

Whatever else he had been, Murad--Mehmed’s dead father and Radu’s onetime benefactor--had not been one to skimp on luxury. The harem complex he built on the island had been out of use since his death, but it had not faded in glory. The tiles gleamed. The carved stones of the walls promised luxury and peace. The fountains tinkled in cheery companionship with the surrounding river.

 

Radu wandered between buildings painted like geometric gardens, pulled along as surely as the course of the river. He knew it was useless, knew that it would not make him feel better. But still he looked.

 

And there--next to the bathhouse. Radu was drawn to him like a leaf spun on the river current. Mehmed wore his now-constant deep-purple robes and a swirling golden turban. A jeweled chain fastened a cloak around his broad shoulders. Radu tried to remember Mehmed’s full lips parting in a smile, his eyebrows rising in mirth rather than mockery. The two young men, both having finally finished growing, were the same tall, lean height. But lately Radu felt small when Mehmed looked at him.

 

He would have taken even that today. But Mehmed did not look his direction, immune to the connection Radu could not escape.

 

“Truly glorious,” Halil Vizier said to Mehmed, his hands on his hips as he looked up at the new bathhouse complex. Three connected buildings, with domed roofs echoing those of mosques, had been added in the past few months. They were the first new construction anticipating Mehmed’s grand palace complex. It would rival anything his father had ever built--anything anyone had ever built. To celebrate this investment in the capital of the Ottoman Empire, Mehmed had invited everyone who mattered.

 

Ambassadors from various European countries mingled freely with the Ottoman elite. Mehmed stood apart, but was free with his smiles and sweeping promises of future parties at his palace. Along with his usual attendants, he was joined by Ishak Pasha, one of his most powerful spahi; Kumal Pasha, Radu’s brother-in-law; and, as always, like a bitter taste that could not be swallowed, Halil Vizier.

 

Radu hated thinking of his old enemy Halil Pasha as Halil Vizier. He hated even more that it had been his own plan to put Halil in a place of trust and power to keep a closer eye on him. Maybe Lada had been right. Maybe they should have killed him. Things would be easier, or at least they would be more pleasant. That should be Radu’s place at Mehmed’s side.

 

As though sensing Radu’s poisonous envy, Halil Vizier looked at him. His mouth curled in a sneering smile. “Radu the Handsome,” he said. Radu frowned. He had not heard that title since the end of fighting in Albania, when Skanderberg, their foe, had coined it. Mehmed glanced over, then away as soon as their eyes met. Like a butterfly alighting on a flower and finding it lacking.

 

“Tell me,” Halil said, that nasty smile still on his bearded face. “Is your pretty wife aware this is not a functioning harem yet? I fear she has false hopes about entering it.”

 

The men around Halil snickered. Kumal frowned, then opened his mouth. Radu shook his head, a minute movement. Kumal looked sadly away. Mehmed did not acknowledge the insult--the implication that Radu’s wife would enter Mehmed’s harem to divorce Radu--but he did nothing to refute it, either.

 

“My wife is not--”

 

A gentle hand came down on Radu’s arm. He turned to find Nazira. Nazira, who was not supposed to be here. “His wife is not pleased with anyone else monopolizing his attention.” Beneath her translucent veil, her smile was far brighter than the winter sun. She wore the colors of springtime. Still, Radu felt cold looking at her. What was she doing?

 

Nazira turned Radu away from the men and led him down a path draped in more silk than most people would ever see in their lives. It was extravagant, excessive, absurd, like everything about this party. A reflection of a sultan too young and foolish to think of anything beyond appearances and his own pleasure.

 

“What are you doing here?” Radu whispered urgently.

 

“Come on a boat ride with me.”

 

“I cannot! I have to--”

 

“Endure mockery from Halil Vizier? Try to regain the favor of Mehmed? Radu, what has happened?” Nazira pulled him into the shadows of one of the buildings. To onlookers it would appear as though he were stealing a moment with his beautiful wife.

 

He gritted his teeth, looking at the wall above her head. “I have business.”

 

“Your business is my business. You do not write us, you never visit. I had to learn from Kumal that you have fallen out with Mehmed. What happened? Did you . . . does he know?” Her dark eyes were heavy with meaning, the weight of it too much for Radu.

 

“No! Of course not. I-- It is much more complicated than that.” He turned away, but she grabbed his wrist.

 

“Fortunately for you, I am very clever and can understand even the most complicated things. Tell me.”

 

Radu ran the fingers of his free hand along the edges of his turban, tugging at it. Nazira reached up, taking his fingers in her own. Her sharp eyes softened. “I worry about you.”

 

“You do not need to worry about me.”

 

“I do not worry because I need to. I worry because I care about you. I want to see you happy. And I do not think Edirne holds any happiness for you.” She emphasized Edirne, making it clear that it was not the capital she spoke of, but what--or rather, whom--that capital held.

 

“Nazira,” Radu hissed, “I cannot talk about this right now.”

 

He almost wished he could. He was desperate to talk to someone, anyone. But no one could help him with that problem. Radu wondered, sometimes, what Lazar could have told him if they had ever talked openly about what it meant for one man to love another. Lazar had been anything but discreet about his openness to something . . . more . . . with Radu. And Radu had rewarded Lazar’s loyalty and friendship with a knife. Now he had no one to talk to, to ask these desperate questions. It was wrong, was it not? For him to love this way?

 

But when Radu looked at Nazira and Fatima, he did not feel anything other than happiness that they had found each other. Their love was as pure and true as any he had ever observed. Thoughts like this made his mind turn around in circles upon itself, until not even prayer could calm it.

 

Radu looked down at Nazira’s hands on his. “The palace may not hold my happiness. But I cannot look anywhere else.”

 

Nazira released him with a sigh. “Will you come back with...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Delacorte Press
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2017
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1524764736
• ISBN 13: 9781524764739
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 480
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar