But when the breadth of the Priory’s instruction expands, the line of Ead’s responsibility is trying to draw her back, and the current of her growing, unsuitable affection is pulling her towards Sabran. Pledged to this society is Ead Duryan who is sent undercover as a lady-in-waiting in Sabran’s court to protect the queen’s life, in case she is revealed to be the key to thwarting the monster after all. In the South, a secret order of female mages called the Priory venerates the Mother. Sabran is their last hope, but it’s difficult to see where that hope could possibly bear fruit when the lies about her ancestry are wearing thin, unveiling the truth beneath: that the legend of Galian Berethnet is merely a phantasm-a scrap of useless myth dancing on a string. Here, dragons had only to be mentioned and hatred sang bright in the people, like a defensive reaction to their name.

In the countries of the West, House Berethnet are lost in the details of their own legend, rolling words like boulders about their queen, Sabran the Ninth, being the sacred source of the monster’s bindings. In this world, there are three empires at the brink of war-with one another, and within themselves. Legend goes that Galian Berethnet, wielding the mythical sword Ascalon, succeeded in drawing borders around the Nameless One’s power and consigning him to the Abyss, but whatever he did is melting away and the fire-breathing dragon will surge back with a vengeance, doling death in his wake. Without surrendering any spoilers, the story goes like this:Īfter a millennium of peace, rumors of the Nameless One’s return-gliding vulture-like in the skies above-had finally descended and sunk in their claws for good. This, I've come to realize, is the hallmark of a great book. The same experience of waking up just as the last vestiges of some delightful nocturnal adventure are disappearing. I barely felt time passing, and when I finished reading, I had the strange experience of looking up from the pages, feeling dreamy and obscure and so keenly aware of the world around me, almost to an abject degree. I feel like a thread of my heart had snagged in The Priory of The Orange Tree and is still trying to tug me back in.

The priory of the orange tree books