The Forged Empire
Samantha Gillespie
(The Kingdom Within, #3)
Publication date: July 15th 2025
Genres: Historical Romance, Young Adult
She married a prince. She loved a soldier.
Now she must decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to save them all.
As the specter of war looms, Meredith Ethan, and Connor are thrust into a final, desperate struggle for freedom. With Stonefall reclaimed and the plague’s grip finally broken, they must now race to forge new alliances before Theros-the ruthless King of Talos-brings his twisted vision of an empire to life.
But Theros’s ambitions run deeper than conquest-and Meredith is at the heart of his plans.
As betrayals mount and loyalties are tested, she finds herself caught between the prince she married and the soldier she never forgot.
And beneath the weight of destiny, Meredith must decide who she truly is:
a queen who must learn to believe in her own strength… or a pawn in a game she can no longer control.
In a war where survival means sacrifice, the price of freedom may be everything.
The final battle is here. And only one legacy will endure.
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A tremor starts in my hands again, subtle but insistent. I clench my fists, willing it to stop.
“My lady?” Anabella appears near the foot of the staircase, her wide eyes fixed on me, worry plain in her gaze.
My pulse pounds harder in my ears, and the air feels thick, suffocating. A bead of sweat traces a line down my temple, and I lift a trembling hand to brush it away. The motion betrays me. My uncle’s eyes narrow, alarm darkening his expression.
“You’re quite pale,” he remarks, his voice softer now but no less authoritative. “Sit down before you fall.”
“I’m fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “It’s just a dizzy spell—”
The room wavers, and a sharp pain lances through my temple. I dig my nails into the carved wood of a nearby table, struggling to stay upright. Voices fade into a muffled roar behind the pounding in my ears. My legs threaten to buckle, yet I take a step forward . . . feeling as if the crown itself is dragging me down.
“Meredith!” Anabella cries out, her fear breaking through decorum. She rushes forward, but someone stops her—a hand grabbing her arm, likely my uncle’s.
“No one is to approach her!” The command explodes from my uncle’s throat like a war cry, freezing everyone mid-step. “She was inoculated this morning—she could be infected!”
Infected.
Understanding dawns like poison spreading through my veins. They think the inoculation failed. They think I’m a walking plague, a vector of death.
Am I?
My knees buckle as the implications cascade through my mind. The room warps and tilts, faces stretching into grotesque masks of fear and revulsion.
“Please, let me help her!” Anabella’s voice cracks with desperation, cutting through the growing pandemonium. “She’s fainting—she needs—”
My uncle stops her. “Stay where you are, woman, or I’ll have you restrained!”
I struggle to form reassurances, denials, anything. But my tongue lies thick and useless in my mouth. The marble floor begins its inexorable rise to meet me, my legs folding like paper beneath my weight. Colors bleed together, the world smearing into an impressionist nightmare.
“Get the physician! Now!” My uncle’s bellow seems to come from very far away, echoing down a tunnel of gathering darkness.
I’m falling—but suddenly strong arms encircle me, crushing me against a chest that thunders with someone else’s racing heartbeat. The scent of leather and pine fills my fading senses, achingly familiar.
“Get away from her!” the duke roars. “You fool—you’re putting yourself at risk! Guards, pull him back!”
“Try it.” Connor’s voice is a low growl. “See what happens.”
The threat hangs in the air, electric with promise. Even through my fading consciousness, I feel the tension ratchet higher, guards hesitating at the challenge in his tone.
Through the narrow slits of my barely-open eyes, I see Connor’s face swimming above me, those midnight-blue eyes fierce with determination. His jaw is set in stone, daring anyone to test him. His lips move urgently, forming words that reach me only as distant whispers, lost in the roaring tide of unconsciousness.
The last thing I register is his arms tightening around me, unyielding as iron, before the darkness swallows me whole.
Samantha Gillespie writes the kind of romantasy novels she loves to read: stories packed with forbidden love, slow-burn tension, and just enough angst to keep you up way past your bedtime.
She lives in Houston with her husband and their ever-expanding menagerie—cats who've crowned themselves royalty, a dog with strong opinions about the weather, and chickens whose sole mission is acquiring treats and destroying the yard. When she's not breaking hearts through fiction, she thrives on copious amounts of coffee, sharp wit, and the delicious tears of her devoted readers.
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