“She had a kingdom to offer him, while I only had my feelings.”
Book : Kingdom Cold.
Author : Brittni Chenelle.
Publication date: 14 February 2019
Genres: Young Adult, Fantasy.
Rate : 4/5 .
Review In One Word : Brilliant .
” “I’m Prince Young of Vires,” I said, bowing deeply.
My mind raced.
I’ll never love you.
I continued. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
You tried to kill me. “
This wasn’t a disappointment at all , I haven’t read many fantasy books this year but with every book I read by new authors especially Self-published Authors , I get astonished and Amazed more and more .
This book , the story , characters , plot and sitting ….. Everything was Brilliant , I literally read the whole series In three days , It was amazing , surprising and different . With every plot twist , I got addicted more to Charlotte’s Story , reading about her feelings , experiences , love, hurt and change was really interesting .
Especially With Brittni Chenelle Writing style , Which is different , gripping and pretty good , With every sentence , my love for her words grow more and more . She has a huge potential and I expect New and Outstanding Stories from her in the future .
When I first read the synopsis , To be honest I wasn’t excited , I thought this book Would be As Any other Young adult fantasy novel with Royalty ,But It actually Wasn’t , I do Not want to spoil you , All I can Say Is that , This story Is really great , It’s worth your time and money 😉 .
I hugely Recommend this series , If you are looking for a young adult fantasy diverse and amazing series , this is for you .
Attempted murder, that’s how sixteen-year-old Princess Charlotte’s engagement starts. It seems like the only thing she has in common with Prince Young of Vires is their mutual discontent.
When her kingdom’s attacked, Charlotte’s parents renegotiate her hand in marriage to a handsome stranger with a sinister plan. With the people Charlotte loves dying around her, and her kingdom’s future at stake, the only person she can turn to is the prince she betrayed. But, should she save her kingdom or her heart?
One must fall.
Amazon — https://amzn.to/2F8SE9g
Brittni Chenelle currently lives in Seoul, Korea, which inspires her multicultural fantasy books. Her favorite genres to read and write are young adult fantasy, young adult romance, fairytale retellings, and young adult dystopian novels. She’s very passionate about equal representation and makes a point to include characters from different backgrounds and cultures in her fantasy stories. Here are five fun facts about Brittni:
1. She lives in South Korea. It’s true. She does most of her updates in the morning or at night to account for the time difference. She also infuses most of her novels with her observations about Korean culture.
2. She’s a Type 1 Diabetic. She uses an insulin pump for survival and refers to her diabetes as “Beetie” which is what inspired her children’s book “Life with Beetie”. When she wants something from her parents she tells them, “My Beetie hurts.” It’s a trick that has never failed her.
3. She doesn’t really BELIEVE in fiction. Despite all the; Dragons, Elves, and Magic present in her novel “Involuted the Tale of the Red Ribbon Tree”, Brittni INSISTS that it’s a true story.
4. She’s OBSESSED with dark chocolate. She made me put that in and would also like me to inform you (on an unrelated note) that her birthday is in May.
5. Sorry guys, she’s married. If you ask her, she’ll tell you her husband saved her life but every time someone asks “how?” she gives a different reason. I’ve overheard her give about 4 different reasons, but I bet she has more. He must be an amazing guy.
Author website (and newsletter) — https://brittnichenelle.com/
Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/brittnichenelle/
Facebook — https://www.facebook.com/brittnichenelle
Twitter — https://twitter.com/InvolutedRRT
Excerpt : ( Read Chapter One Of Kingdom Cold Just On Bibliomedico )
Dying wasn’t my intention. Yet there I lay, ravenous—twelve hours into my hunger strike, certain I was already slipping away. The moans of my stomach howled for me to submit to the trays of food of every variety within an arm’s reach. I swallowed a gulp of nectarous air, heavy with the aroma of my favorite dishes, as the servants marched them in one by one. My mother was not relenting, but neither was I. As I lay dying, I didn’t observe my life flash before my eyes, but rather the few hours that led me to this desperate act— and ultimately to my untimely demise. “Married? To who?” I seethed. It didn’t even matter. “Married!” My mom, Queen of Besmium, let out a breathy sigh. “Honestly, Charlotte, can we skip the theatrics?”
I rushed closer to her. “I’m only sixteen. You said I’d have more time, until eighteen at least.” She crossed her arms. “And you would feel differently about marriage in two years?” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Tears stung my eyes. I clenched my jaw, rage pulsing through me. Was this a punishment? Everyone knew I would make a terrible queen. I wasn’t cut out for rules or duty. My parents were never able to conceive another child, so they gave in to the fact it would have to be me. Married off for an alliance. “No. I won’t do it,” I said. “I wasn’t asking your permission.” Her gaze cut into my resolve but I refused to surrender the modicum of freedom I had. “I won’t say ‘I do’,” I said, locking my knees to keep them from shaking. Marriage? Even the word repulsed me. It sat at the back of my throat and I choked on it. She stepped forward and leaned her face close to mine, her voice almost a whisper. “Could you be any more selfish?” I swallowed back a wave of tears. “Drethen marches closer every day,” she said. “Without this alliance—” I succumbed to sobs, melting like a wax candle at the end of a banquet.
This seemed to please my mother to no end. She watched my anguish, her eyebrow slightly raised. She did this after all her victories. Certainly, this was revenge for my disobedience. After what felt like one hundred years of silence she continued, answering the question I couldn’t bring myself to ask. “The Prince of Vires. Prince Young.” I choked. “The Eastern Statue ? Did you know that’s what they call him? They say he never smiles.” “Be grateful he’s only a year older than you.” Her words hung in the silence like a thick fog, but instead of obscuring my vision, my mother had exposed herself. Her marriage had been arranged as well, and it was no secret that father was twenty years her senior. She pursed her lips as if she could somehow suck the words back. I studied her face but she spun away, taking her leave with poised, deliberate steps before I could respond, and left me there with the news. I walked like the undead to my bedroom and collapsed on the floor. Milly, my lady-in-waiting, appeared. “Is everything—” “Corset off. ” Milly rushed over, her small hands unlacing my corset with quick, decisive movements. From behind me, all I could see of her was an occasional wisp of her summery hair. When she finished, she dropped down in front of me, as if my morbid energy was draining her. “What happened?” “Prince of Vires,” I said as I buried my face in my hands. She leaned forward, awaiting more information, as I remained motionless. Her eyes widened. “Marriage? But you’re only sixteen.” I sat up and gave a hard nod, shaking a few of my dark curls from their pins. We sat there in silence. Each drape, chandelier, and ornately decorated vase screamed the same thing: my life wasn’t mine. I strained to remember him. I’d met Prince Young once. Dark hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes that curved in at the corners… But his face—I couldn’t really recall it. I could only remember the feeling of him. He’d seemed so serious and miserable, even more so than the stuffy, political vultures that circled court. I hadn’t given him a single thought since we met—until now. Now, all I could think about was his cold, heartless stature and a lifetime without laughter. Milly wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in. She was a year younger and yet I’d always gone to her for guidance. She was beautiful, the kind that could rival any well-groomed royal, but that wasn’t what I envied. Even as a paid servant of our household, she was in charge of her fate. For the next few weeks, I tried to think of a way to sabotage the wedding. I tried running away but didn’t make it past the courtyard before the guard caught me. I wrote a heartfelt and smartly worded letter to my father. He responded with a letter of his own, which read something like, “Tough luck…” Finally, I got the idea of going on a hunger strike. Admittedly, I had expected my mother to give in much sooner, but I remained obstinate because she’d clearly expected me to do the same. The anger welled inside me, tightening my stomach, which only emphasized its emptiness. A fresh loaf of Sasha’s wheat bread fluttered into the room on a silver tray. I sat up and stared as a servant placed the tray down beside me, the corner of her mouth turned up. I leaned into the steaming loaf and breathed in its warmth, my will being sucked away like summer rain on dry soil. I eyed my chamber for servants, but I was alone. No doubt they were scheming to bring in the next temptation. My stomach ached for me to surrender. If I took a small bite from the bottom of the loaf, they’d never know. I lifted the loaf carefully and bit into it. My mind surged with delight and I savored the crunchy exterior and doughy flavor before carefully placing it back on the tray, bite side down. I hesitated before I lay back down. Surely, my mother was evil for forcing me into such extremes. My father wasn’t though. Why hadn’t he intervened? Was the war with Drethen so dire that he was willing to sell his only daughter for a few extra soldiers? I remembered that five years ago, when the war first started, the rhythmic clop of two hundred horses reminded me of the rain. I was eleven and my father knelt before me, for kings bow to no one but the daughters they love. He urged me to hug him goodbye, but I didn’t want to—I hated goodbyes. I remembered how my mother pinched the back of my arm. “Hug your father,” she rasped, coldly. “You’ll regret your poor attitude if he’s killed in battle.” I hugged him. The trumpets sounded as he mounted his horse—taking his place at the front. After that, Besmium was always at war, and my father, the king, was always one goodbye away from being gone forever. I reached over and ripped another piece of bread from the bottom of the loaf. I sighed as I popped it into my mouth. No matter how many times my mother had prepared me for the news of my engagement, I still felt blindsided. Where was love in all this? Love was just this abstract concept for novels but unspeakable inside the castle. Not even my father said it. Maybe it was their way of protecting me from something I could never have. Marriage was the duty of every princess, and love was the cost. I tore another piece of bread from the tray and rolled onto my stomach to avoid choking. By the time I was fifteen, there was a party or tournament almost every month, parading me around like some trophy to be won. The other courtiers cooed over the high-standing men at court, but I never understood why. Sure, the idea of courting seemed fun enough. I could wear elaborate gowns and be whispered sonnets by handsome princes. But that’s not how any of it actually happened. In the end, the choice was out of my hands. I’d marry whoever my father thought was best for the kingdom, and nothing about that seemed fun. Throughout my early teens, I’d sneak out beyond the walls of the castle every chance I got to try to catch a glimpse of the world beyond. There, I saw children at play and parents home for dinner. There seemed to be a general warmth in the ordinary lives of Besmium’s people that never existed in my world. During one of my excursions beyond the wall, I saw a scattered batch of white wildflowers on the far side of a small stream. Their petals shone like pearls in the sunlight, each delicate flower lovelier than the last. I rushed over and lost my footing on a slippery stone. My legs flew from beneath me. I twisted to catch myself, landing with a hard scrape of stones against both palms and my knee. I cried out in pain as I scrambled for my balance, only to slip again, this time landing in the center of the stream. The cold water was a series of daggers on my skin. My vision turned to waves of white fuzz. Panicked, I pulled myself out and sat by the water’s edge. As I caught my breath, tears warmed my cheeks. I sat muddy, wet, and bleeding, the lesson learned: beautiful things could hurt. I felt a touch of shame as I trudged back to the castle. The independence my adventures had given me drained away. I spent several fearful moments attempting to convince the castle guard that it was I, Princess Charlotte, who stood before him. By that time I felt as small as I’d ever been and certain I couldn’t be lower. That was the last time I was allowed beyond the wall without supervision. My mother put me under constant surveillance and conversations about my future as a wife became more frequent. Still, I hadn’t expected the day to come so quickly. I chewed thoughtfully. My desire to live a different life from the one I was born into remained strong. Marriage seemed like the fatal blow to my freedom. All I wanted was to see the walls of the castle fall and to walk out with no title and no crown. Now that my engagement was official, I was certain my dream would never come to be. At the same time, I never considered what I’d lose, if it did. Still, would it be so bad if Drethen won? I looked down at the empty platter in surprise. Did I eat the whole thing ? I sat up, just in time to see one of the servants slip out of my room. Sure enough, minutes later, my mother strode into my chamber, her crown gleaming in the candlelight. She eyed the trays of uneaten food until her gaze landed on the empty tray beside me. Without a word she smiled, a searing and heartless grin that boiled my skin long after she’d gone. As helplessness overcame me, I scanned the room for the next tray I’d indulge in. There was no use resisting food now. I’d failed. On the eve of the wedding, the prince was shown to my home at Hiems Castle. I could hear the distant clip-clop of his horse-drawn carriage as it pulled up outside. I stared into the mirror and studied my face. It was more than about accepting all the things I’d never get to experience—love, freedom, happiness—it was also about the things and—above All A husband .
Until Next Time ,
Stay strong and change the world ,