They built an eleven-year war out of a lie. They are about to build something far more dangerous out of fourteen days.
Evander Ashvane, King of Valdrath, has been at war since he was twenty-nine - and for the past three years, he has privately known the war was wrong. He kept fighting it anyway. That is the kind of man he is: certain, immovable, and very good at not asking the questions whose answers would cost him something.
Soren Caldavere, King of Mireth, has been preparing for peace since year three. He is the most prepared person in any room he enters. He models outcomes, manages distance, and has spent seventeen years performing contentment in a life whose shape other people gave him.
They have never met.
They have been imagining each other for eleven years.
The summit lasts fourteen days. A neutral city. A table made from the timber of ships the war destroyed. Two men who have spent over a decade as each other's primary adversary - sitting three feet apart and discovering, to their considerable inconvenience, that the person across the table has nothing to do with the enemy they invented.
What begins as political maneuvering becomes something neither of them has a word for. Evander's frost retreats in Soren's warmth. Soren's carefully managed distance stops being manageable. There is no protocol for this. There is no exit ramp that doesn't cost something real.
And when the summit ends - when the treaty is signed and both kings return to their separate kingdoms - the distance between them will be measured in twelve-day roads, thirty-seven burned letters, and everything two men who are very good at not saying things have decided, finally, to say.
Two Kings and a Dying War is a full-length, slow-burn MM fantasy romance about two dominant men, equal in power, who spent eleven years at war with a fiction - and learn, over fourteen days across a warship-timber table, that the real person is more dangerous than anything they imagined.
This is not a book about saving each other. It is a book about two men who have been alone inside themselves for a very long time, discovering what it means to be known - completely, specifically, by the person who had the least reason to choose them.
Expect: rivals-to-lovers with genuine political weight, ambient magic that betrays exactly what neither man will say, slow burn that does not flinch when it finally breaks, multiple explicit scenes that earn every degree of heat, and an HEA that arrives through changed behavior rather than speeches.
If you read for the slow burn, the quiet moment that holds more than the loud ones, the scene where a man finally says the true thing in his own flat voice - Two Kings and a Dying War was written for you.
The war ends on page one. What comes after takes everything else.
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