Format: Hardcover, 448 pages
Release Date: October 12, 2021
Publisher: Clarion Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy / Dark Fantasy
The Gilded Cage, by author Lynette Noni, is the second installment in The Prison Healer series. Kiva Meridan Corentine is a survivor. She survived not only Zalindov prison, but also the deadly Trial by Ordeal with a bit of help from Jaren Vallentis aka Prince Derrick. After escaping the Zalindov prison with Jaren, Tipp and Naari, Kiva found herself free for the first time in ten long years. The author takes readers briefly back in time to that horrible day that Kiva and her father were taken to Zalindov prison. A place where he will eventually die, and she was spent 10 years.
It shows that her mother, Tilda Corentine, was the true Rebel Queen who wanted her bloodline back in power, and to rid the world of the Vallentis. Since her escape, Kiva has made in roads with the Vallentis, especially Mirryn and Caldon, while being welcome by the King and Queen Arianna. Tripp has found a friend with the younger Vallentis, while Kiva grows closer to Jaren, and Caldon decides that Kiva needs to learn how to protect herself. For the first time in 10 years, Kiva genuinely feels wanted, and hopes for a future where she can attend the same school as her father did.
But she's also weary about letting her healing ability be seen by anyone. For the past ten years, her only goal was to reunite with her family and destroy the people responsible for ruining their lives. As Kiva settles into her new life in the capital, she discovers that she's not really safe when an unknown group kidnaps her, and she meets her siblings, Zuleeka and Torell, who have leaders of the rebellion. Soon it’s not just her enemies she’s keeping secrets from, but her own family as well.
These secrets really messed with Kiva and she ends up making some really horrible mistakes. Kiva’s allegiances are more important than ever, but she’s beginning to question where they truly lie. Her siblings drop a major piece of information into Kiva's lap and then expect her to just follow them in bringing down the people who have treated her like family. To survive this time, she’ll have to navigate a complicated web of lies before both sides of the battle turn against her and she loses everything.
The addition of Caldon makes the story even better. I feel as though he has more levels than has been unpeeled by the author. I feel as though he will end up being more of an ally to Kiva with the events that happen than Jarren. I also want Kiva to gain revenge on an assortment of characters who I won't spoil. After Noni pulled the mother of all twists in The Prison Healer, I spent a good majority of The Gilded Cage trying to anticipate jaw dropping plot twists. Noni is clearly a master in the art of deception and misdirection because you couldn't have slapped me any harder in the fact than what the author does to the end of this story.
If you like drama, romance, secrets, politics, and magic, you'll enjoy this series.
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Chapter One
The man was dead.
Kiva
Meridan—known to a select few as Kiva Corentine—stared down at the
body, noting his sunken cheeks and ashen skin. Given his state of
bloating, he’d likely passed into the everworld three or four days ago.
Long enough for the scent of death to emanate from him, even if he was
yet to show physical signs of decomposition.
“Middle-aged male,
average height and build, pulled out of the Serin River early this
morning,” Healer Maddis said, her crisp voice enunciating every word
perfectly. “Who can speculate as to the cause of death?”
Kiva
kept her mouth shut, fully aware that she’d been granted entrance into
the sterile examination room as an observer only.
“No one?”
Healer Maddis prompted her students, all of whom were crowded around the
body resting on a metal slab in the center of the small space. “Novice
Waldon?”
A young man wearing large spectacles blinked owlishly and answered, “Uh, he drowned?”
“Marvelous deductive reasoning,” Maddis said dryly, before turning to the student beside him. “Novice Quinn?”
The young woman hunched in on herself, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Maybe a heart attack? Or—Or a stroke?”
Healer Maddis tapped a fingernail against her lips. “Perhaps. Anyone else?”
Kiva shifted on her feet, catching the healer’s attention.
“What about our visitor?” Maddis asked, drawing all eyes to Kiva. “Miss Meridan, isn’t it?”
Seeing
the open, inviting challenge in the elderly healer’s gaze, Kiva shook
off her trepidation and stepped closer to the corpse, picking up his
limp hand to reveal the smudges beneath his nails.
“This
discoloration indicates he was suffering from an immune disorder, most
likely syphinus or cretamot,” Kiva said, having diagnosed similar cases
in the past. “If left untreated, both can lead to the rapid swelling of
blood vessels.” She glanced toward the two novices who had been called
upon. “Waldon and Quinn are both right—he most likely had a heart attack
or a stroke, caused by his underlying medical condition, then fell into
the river to drown.” She released the man’s hand. “But only a full
examination will be able to say for sure.”
An approving smile
stretched across the Matron Healer’s dark, wrinkled face. “Well
spotted.” She then launched into a lecture about common immune
disorders, but Kiva was only half listening, still marveling over where
she stood.
Silverthorn Academy—the most renowned healing academy in all of Evalon. Some would argue in all of Wenderall.
When
Kiva was a child, her father had spoken often about Silverthorn. Having
grown up in the city of Fellarion, he’d used any excuse to visit
Vallenia and sneak into the academy’s classes. His greatest regret was
that he’d never relocated to study on campus full-time, instead
accepting an apprenticeship from a master healer nearer to his home—an
honored position, but one that paled in comparison to being a
Silverthorn student.
Faran had made it his life’s purpose to
help people, something Kiva had inherited to the point that, even when
she’d been locked away in a nightmare, she’d still used everything he’d
taught her to make the lives of others better.
A shadowy
feeling overtook Kiva as she thought of the long years that were now
behind her. A decade of her life spent behind thick limestone walls and
impenetrable iron gates.
Zalindov prison.
It was a death sentence for most, but Kiva had survived.
And now she was here, standing at the heart of her father’s dream, when she should have been somewhere else. Anywhere else.
There
was no excuse for her actions today. But when the opportunity to visit
Silverthorn had presented itself, she hadn’t been able to say no, even
knowing that her own desires should have been at the bottom of her
priorities.
It had been six weeks since Kiva had escaped
Zalindov. Six weeks since she’d discovered that the crown prince had
helped keep her alive through the deadly Trial by Ordeal, a set of four
elemental challenges she’d undertaken in order to save the life of the
Rebel Queen, Tilda Corentine.
Kiva’s mother.
Her
efforts had been in vain, with a violent prison riot ending Tilda’s
life. But even in death, her purpose remained, inherited by Kiva and her
two older siblings. Together, the three of them would seek vengeance
for what had been stolen generations ago; together, they would reclaim
Evalon’s throne for the Corentine bloodline.
The problem was,
Kiva had no idea how to find her brother and sister. The only hint she
had was a coded note she’d received before leaving Zalindov, containing a
single word: Oakhollow.
The village was barely half an
hour’s ride away from Vallenia, but Kiva hadn’t had a spare moment to
explore since arriving in the city two days ago, having spent the
previous weeks holed up in the Tanestra Mountains waiting for the spring
thaws. The first chance she’d had to sneak away was today. But instead
of using the opportunity to seek out her long-lost siblings, she was
indulging in her own dreams.
Tilda Corentine would have been livid.
Faran Meridan would have been delighted.
Kiva chose to side with her father, deciding that her mother’s mission could wait another day.
Guilt
had simmered within her when she’d made her choice that morning, but a
knot of anxiety had also eased in her stomach. She had no reason to be
nervous about a reunion with her siblings, and yet . . . ten years was a
long time. Kiva wasn’t the same carefree child anymore, and she could
only assume the same must be true for them. Too much had happened—to
them all.
And then there was what the three of them intended to do . . .
The
sound of chiming bells interrupted her thoughts, the noise making her
jump, a lingering effect of the years she’d spent listening for the
smallest of sounds that could herald her death. But she was no longer in
Zalindov, the peaceful chimes merely echoing through the walls of the
sterile examination room to signal the end of class.
The
students, all clad in pristine white robes, scrambled to finish writing
their lesson notes as Healer Maddis dismissed them.
“And
remember,” she called as they started toward the door, “for those
heading to the festival this weekend, there will be no mercy come Monday
should you partake of excessive libations. Consider yourselves warned.”
There
was a twinkle in her gray eyes as she uttered her half-hearted threat,
with some of the braver students grinning in response as they headed out
the door, Kiva following in their footsteps.
“Miss Meridan, a word?”
Kiva
halted at the threshold of the small examination room. “Yes, Matron
Healer?” she asked, using the honorific owed to the woman, not only
because of her age and experience, but because she was the head of
Silverthorn Academy.
“Few people would have noted the
discolored nailbeds as quickly as you did,” Maddis said, covering the
deceased man with a sheet. “And even fewer without proper training.” She
looked up, their eyes meeting. “You impressed me.”
Kiva squirmed and mumbled, “Thank you.”
“Faran Meridan once impressed me, too.”
Kiva stopped squirming in an instant.
Healer Maddis’s wrinkles deepened as she smiled. “I knew whose daughter you were the moment you walked through the door.”
Unsure
whether she should flee or wait to see what the healer said next, the
choice was taken from Kiva when Maddis asked, “How is your father? Still
saving the world, one patient at a time?”
A million responses came to Kiva’s mind, but she settled on simply saying, “He died. Nine years ago.”
Maddis’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
Kiva only nodded, seeing no reason to reveal how he had died. Or where.
The
Matron Healer cleared her throat. “Your father was my best
student—ignoring the fact that he wasn’t a Silverthorn student at all.
Young Faran Meridan was always sneaking into my classes, acting like an
innocent novice.” Maddis huffed with amusement. “He showed enough
promise that I never reported him to the Matron Healer at the time,
knowing he’d be banned from the grounds. Someone with such natural,
intuitive talent deserved the chance to hone his skills. I believed that
then.” She paused. “And I believe it now.”
The look Maddis sent Kiva caused her breath to catch.
“Faran’s
death is devastating, but I’m thrilled to learn his passion was passed
on,” the healer said. “Should you wish it, you would be welcome to study
here at Silverthorn. No sneaking in necessary.”
Kiva’s mouth
opened and closed like a fish. Studying at Silverthorn would be a dream
come true. The things she would learn . . . Tears welled in her eyes at
the very thought.
And they welled even more because she knew she couldn’t accept.
Mother is dead.
I’m on my way to Vallenia.
It’s time to reclaim our kingdom.
Kiva
had written those words to her brother and sister upon leaving
Zalindov, and she had to see them through, denying her own ambitions in
order to put her family first.
“Think on it,” Healer Maddis said, when Kiva remained quiet. “Take however long you need. The offer will remain open.”
Blinking
back more tears, Kiva prepared to utter a polite refusal. But when she
finally spoke, what she said was, “I’ll consider it.”
Despite
her words, Kiva knew Silverthorn wasn’t in her future. As soon as Maddis
learned where she’d practiced her skills for the last decade, the
invitation would be withdrawn. All Kiva had to do was raise her sleeve
and uncover the Z scar on her hand.
But she couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t sabotage herself with such finality. Instead, she uttered a
quiet farewell and stepped out of the examination room into the sterile
hallway beyond.
Mind reeling, Kiva paid little attention as she
walked down the long corridor, passing white-robed healers and
students, along with a mixture of plain-clothed visitors and patients.
She’d already had a tour of the campus earlier that day, learning that
there were three large infirmaries—one for psychological trauma and
healing, one for long-term patient care and rehabilitation, and this
one, which was for diagnosing and treating physical ailments specific to
illnesses and injuries. There were also a handful of smaller buildings
dotted across the campus, like the apothecaries’ workshop, the
quarantine block, the morgue, and the healer residences. Only the main
infirmaries were accessible to the public, all connected by outdoor
pathways with arched stone sides offering views of the gardens at the
center of the grounds. The Silverthorn Sanctuary, as those gardens were
known—a place where patients and healers could retreat and relax,
enjoying the tranquility of the bubbling brook and aromatic wildflowers
all from atop a hill that overlooked the city, straight down to where
the meandering Serin River met the Tetran Sea.
It was to the
sanctuary that Kiva headed once she left the largest of the infirmaries,
walking along the stone path a short way before stepping off it, her
sandals sinking into the lush grass, the late afternoon sunshine warming
the chill from her bones. She kept moving aimlessly until she reached a
small footbridge affording safe passage over the trickling stream,
pausing to lean on the wooden railing in an attempt to gather her
thoughts.
“Uh-oh, you’re wearing your serious face.”
Kiva stilled at the familiar voice, ignoring how it made her feel—all
that it made her feel. She braced herself and turned to see the
approaching figure just as he came close enough to stop beside her.
Jaren
Vallentis—or Prince Deverick, as most of the world knew him. Her fellow
escaped inmate, her traveling companion, her once-friend—and
once-potentially-more-than-that—and her family’s sworn enemy.
Her sworn enemy.
“This
is my normal face,” Kiva said, struggling not to stare. His deep blue
shirt with gold embroidery along the collar looked far too good on him,
as did his tailored black jacket and pants. It took a supreme effort of
will for her to cast her gaze away.
“Yes, and it’s much too serious,” Jaren stated, reaching out to tuck a strand of dark, windswept hair behind her ear.
Kiva’s
stomach gave a traitorous leap, and she frowned inwardly at herself.
Casual affection from Jaren wasn’t uncommon. Even when they’d been in
Zalindov together, he’d been overly friendly toward her. Since they’d
escaped, Kiva had sought to keep him at arm’s length, but her will was
beginning to crumble. It was as if he’d been born for the sole purpose
of tempting her, of distracting her from her task.
And that was unacceptable.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked, his unique blue-gold eyes capturing hers.
Kiva
smoothed her outfit—a simple green dress paired with a thin white
cardigan—and weighed her response. Jaren was the reason she was even at
Silverthorn; he’d called in a favor, resulting in her being awakened at
dawn and bustled out of the River Palace for the once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity to spend a day at the best healing academy in the kingdom.
There
were so many reasons for Kiva to hate the crown prince, but she
couldn’t summon the burning resentment that should have consumed her.
She blamed Jaren for that. From the moment they’d met, he’d been caring
and thoughtful and wholly devoted to her. Even when she’d learned that
he’d lied about who he really was, she still hadn’t been able to turn
her back and leave him to die of his injuries down in the tunnels
beneath Zalindov. She’d tried—desperately—to harden her heart
toward him in the weeks they’d spent at his family’s palace in the
Tanestra Mountains, and then during their long days of travel to
Vallenia, but it was useless. He was just too gods-damned likeable. It made everything Kiva planned to do to him and his family that much more difficult.
Not that she’d ever admit as much—even to herself.
“It
was . . .” she started, unsure how to answer. Her day had been amazing,
incredible, everything she’d ever hoped for. But knowing what she did
about her future, and how she would have to turn down Maddis’s offer,
all she said was, “Interesting.”
Jaren’s golden eyebrows inched upward. “A glowing commendation.”
Kiva ignored his sarcasm and asked, “What’re you doing here?”
There
was no one near where they stood leaning against the footbridge, but
she still peered nervously at those spaced further out in the sanctuary,
and the spattering of people walking along the arched stone pathways
between the infirmaries.
“I came to pick you up,” Jaren said with a merry wink. “First day of school, and all that.”
Kiva shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Ouch,” Jaren said, pressing a hand to his heart. “That hurts. Right here.”
“If someone recognizes you—”
Jaren
had the audacity to chuckle. “People in Vallenia are used to me and my
family wandering freely among them. We only wear masks during special
events, so we’re easily recognizable the rest of the time. Don’t
worry—we’re not as much of a novelty as you’d think.”
“I doubt Naari would agree with you,” Kiva argued, looking past him. “Where is she?”
Since
leaving Zalindov—and in the time they’d been there together—it was rare
to see Jaren without his most loyal Royal Guard, his Golden Shield.
That Naari Arell was absent now meant one of two things: either she was
giving them space and watching from a distance, or—
“Would you be impressed if I said I managed to give her the slip?”
The
self-satisfied grin Jaren wore had Kiva tilting her head to the side, a
smirk playing at her lips as she replied, “I’d be impressed if you
managed to survive her wrath afterward.”
Jaren’s grin fled, a
wince taking its place. “Yes. Well.” He straightened his shoulders and
rallied. “That’s a problem for later.”
“I’ll say something nice at your funeral,” Kiva promised.
Jaren
huffed out a laugh. “You’re too kind.” He then grabbed her hand and
started leading her back toward the arched pathway. “Come on, we have to
get moving if we don’t want to miss it.”
Kiva tried to free
herself from his grip, but his fingers only tightened around hers, so
she gave in, resolutely ignoring how nice it felt, and sought to keep up
with his long strides. “Miss what?”
“Sunset,” Jaren answered.
When he said no more, Kiva dryly observed, “This may come as a shock, but there’ll be another one tomorrow.”
Jaren gave her a gentle tug. “Smart ass.” The amused look he shot her warmed her insides—and that she ignored, too.
She was ignoring a lot these days, when it came to Jaren.
“The annual River Festival kicks off at sunset today,” he said. “It lasts all weekend, but the first night is always the best, so we want to make sure we have a good view.”
“Of what?”
“You’ll see,” Jaren said mysteriously.
Kiva
made a quick decision. She would allow herself one more night—a night
to experience the River Festival and enjoy being in Jaren’s company,
knowing that their days together were numbered.
One night, and
then she would set out for Oakhollow, where she would finally follow
through with what she’d determined upon leaving Zalindov.
No
matter how she might feel, no matter how the crown prince had wormed his
way into her heart, it was time for the Vallentis family to fall.
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