The Liar's Crown Novels & Stories

Morning light filtered through the curtains of Isabelle’s chambers at Cresthaven Palace, illuminating the small desk where she sat motionless, quill suspended above parchment. A letter to Amelia lay half-written before her, the ink long dried. How did one tell a dear friend that the crown prince had requested assistance in courting her? More importantly, how did one write such a letter with a heart splintered into fragments?

“I know.” A small, breathless smile curved his mouth. “And I love you too,” she whispered. Below them, the lake caught the light and held it, and the forest around it carried that warmth inward—through root and stone, through corridor and heart—until it reached the quieter halls of the palace, where another choice waited with equal patience. Corren stood alone in the Hall of Roots, the Verdant Crown resting upon its living pedestal. It was not forged by fire but shaped by time—wood veined with gold, leaves eternally green along its arch. The chamber smelled of earth and rain, ancient and steady.

He shut his eyes and clenched his fists to gather every remaining strength and courage he had left. “I have said a terrible lie, Your Highness…” He paused for a while without moving an inch. “It is about the royal concubine. She is no longer here so I could finally tell you that she was simply pretending to be pregnant. She forced me to lie to His Majesty and to everyone, threatening me that she would not hesitate to kill me if I were to speak of her lies.”

“Two days ago, Alexander personally took her to a private jeweler. Measurements, design consultations—he stayed the entire time.” My heart clenched. “There’s more,” Ethan continued. “And it gets worse.” “I accessed her private cloud. Password was Alexander’s birthday.” Inside were photos. Hundreds of them. I opened the file he sent. The album was titled: My Knight. The most recent post was dated two days ago. He said this crown belongs only to me. Just like him. Next week’s family dinner—he promised to give me a name. The image showed an exquisite bridal crown— diamonds and sapphires set in a constellation pattern.

Those four words had become my least favorite sentence. I knew where he was going, and I wasn’t wrong. It was Lily’s chamber. The first night, I had convinced myself he was only checking on her. The second night, I tried reading to distract myself. By the third… I could no longer lie to myself. They were trying to conceive. The elders had demanded an heir, and Kael was simply doing what he believed was necessary. That didn’t make it hurt any less. *********** I sat alone in our bedroom, staring into the dying fire.

The whispers grow louder, and Vivian is unable to control herself. “What are you talking about?!” Her voice is tinged with hysteria. “I am the queen of the North, not that woman!” She pushes Bella away and strides to the front where we are standing. “The queen of the Northern Wolf Kingdom is me, Vivian! Not her! That woman is a slave and an imposter! She deceived the Northern Kingdom, pretending to be me—” “Leanna is my fated mate.” Cedric puts his arm around my waist, his voice calm. “You are not and have never been my queen.”

Her crown fell to the marble floor with a clear clang, there seems also to be a clanging sound of someone's sword falling to the ground outside the palace gates. The deep red gem on the crown shattered and scattered. Warm blood down the steps on the cold ground, slowly spreading, reminiscent of the shallow creek she used to play in barefoot as a child. This golden hall of Avalon became her grave, swallowing her bones, burying her life. Outside, the sun shone on the snow, melting it bit by bit…