Exclusive Cover Reveal + Excerpt: Addie Thorley’s Burn the Kingdom Down

Author Addie Thorley’s 2020 novel An Affair of Poisons combines lush fantasy elements with real-world history to create a magical retelling of a notorious crime that saw a group of career poisoners sell deadly products to most of the court of Louis XVI, including several of the king’s mistresses. Her latest book, Burn the Kingdom Down, may be much more overtly fantastical in terms of genre and tone, but it is not less dark and potentially violent. 

Described as an action-packed, enemies-to-lovers romantasy with a high-stakes central love story, shocking betrayals, and a heroine bent on revenge, Burn the Kingdom Down follows Indira, whose older sister is murdered after being sent as a captive bride to a rival land. Determined to avenge her death—and find out the truth of what happened to her—she offers herself as a sort of replacement wife in her dead sibling’s place. But as she attempts to destroy the prince who took everything from her, she learns that her new home—and the sister she thought she knew—had more secrets than she could have ever expected. 

Here’s how the publisher describes the story. 

One year ago, Rowenna Harrack, the crown princess of Tashir, left her homeland in a wedding dress of chains—sent away to the enemy nation of Vanzador as a captive bride.

Now, Rowenna is dead. Brought home in a coffin after an alleged fall from a cliff.

Second-born princess, Indira, knows her sister’s death was no accident. Desperate for truth and vengeance, Indira agrees to wed the prince so she can infiltrate Vanzador, find Rowenna’s murderer, and burn their kingdom to the ground.

Indira’s plan is simple, she will make nice until she can find out how to avenge her sister and free her country from the rival nation’s stranglehold. But when Indira arrives, nothing is as terrible as Rowenna described. As Indira grows closer to her new husband, Prince Alaric, and uncovers more about Vanzador, the source of its powers, and what happened during Rowenna’s final days, she’s no longer sure what—and who—to believe.

Because everyone, even her sister, has secrets. Deadly ones.

Burn the Kingdom Down won’t hit shelves until April 7, 2026, but we’re thrilled to give you a first look at its (gorgeous!) cover, the sprayed edges which will be featured on the hardcover—and a sneak peek at the story itself! 

Prologue

My sister wore chains on her wedding day.

They jangled from her wrists like bracelets and squeezed her neck like a collar. They cascaded from her waist in a waterfall of silver, cutting deep furrows into the earth, long straight planting rows that trailed her as she emerged from the hillock palace and paraded down High Street.

When Father saw her, his cheeks flamed red as a beet and he covered his eyes, afraid of what the Vanzadorians would think: What sort of bride chooses to wear chains instead of silk?

A stronger king would have been proud of Rowenna’s defiance. A stronger father would have been charging into battle, refusing to let our enemies take her. But there Father stood, as useless as a rock, retreating into the blackness of his mind.

Beside him, Mother shook her head with disapproval, though I swore the tiniest of grins teased her lips.

On the opposite side of the road, the Vanzadorians stood in their too-straight lines and too-little clothing, whispering and pointing as if Rowenna’s chains were more shocking and inappropriate than the gaudy, bejeweled jackets that revealed their bare chests.

Ro didn’t so much as blink at our parents or her future husband. She was playing to the throng of Tashiri planters crowding the streets behind us like an overgrown flower bed. Every man, woman, and child in our kingdom had come out to see her wed, and they roared their approval of her styling. She blew them kisses and waved in long arching strokes—clinging and clanking the chains to their full advantage.

Rowenna had always had a flair for the dramatic, but this was extravagant, even by her standards. Instead of wearing the traditional wedding wrap of Tashir—a gorgeous gown that Mother’s seamstresses had spent months hand-beading with tiny purple bagrava buds—this gown was made entirely of chain mail. It poured down her arms in big, belled sleeves, then cut close to her figure like a bodice. And the skirt—the skirt!—must have weighed nine stone. Nearly as much as Rowenna herself. Yet, somehow, her steps were smooth, her face serene, as she rattled like a prison wagon toward her future husband.

The poor Vanzadorian prince couldn’t keep the horror from spreading across his face like a blight

I slapped a hand over my smile.

Where, in all the green hills of Tashir, had she found so many tiny rings of steel? It would have taken months to collect so many. Years. Our sentries wore wooden armor, not chain mail. And who had constructed the gown in secret?

Actually, I knew the answer to that.

Haddesh, the blacksmith’s apprentice, had been in love with Rowenna for as long as I could remember. He would have gladly forged each ring himself, heedless of the burns and backbreaking work, if it helped Rowenna make this final statement as the crown princess of Tashir. So everyone would know this was no ordinary wedding—not even by royal standards, which often necessitate political unions—because there was no unity between Vanzador and Tashir. Rowenna was a captive bride, and she wanted her new “family,” and our people, to always remember that.

Ro winked at me as she passed—her eyelids painted gold, her brown hair plaited with zinnias. “Do you think they’re ready for me?” she whispered conspiratorially.

She wanted me to laugh and clap and play into her bravado. My reaction mattered, more than all the rest. But my smile withered like a weed-choked flower, and my hands instinctively shot out, grasping for the chain mail rings. Praying they were strong enough to hold her back. Even if she was ready to go to Vanzador, I would never be ready to let her go. To be left here.

Alone.

“Indira,” Father hissed.

I snatched my hands back to my chest and dropped my gaze to my boots, drowning in shame. I would be in Tashir, with our parents, surrounded by our people. Rowenna was the one being sacrificed to Vanzador. Yet I was the one sputtering, stumbling.

Falling apart.

“Chin up, little sister. Their cold, craggy mountains can’t crush a girl made of steel.” She chucked me under the chin and gestured proudly to her gown. Then she sauntered up to the altar.

But Rowenna was never a girl made of steel. Beneath that gleaming armor, she was as green as any sapling. A tiny bud, just beginning to reach toward the sky. Full of such potential, but still incredibly delicate—like everything that comes from the earth.

Like all of us from Tashir.

 Excerpted from Burn the Kingdom Down by Addie Thorley, Copyright © 2026 by Addie Thorley

Published by Sourcebooks

Burn the Kingdom Down will be released on April 7, 2026, but you can pre-order it right now.

Lacy Baugher Milas writes about Books and TV at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter and Bluesky at @LacyMB