A delightful and hilarious supernatural adventure featuring a lady-in-waiting who must keep the court safe from murder, from the author of The Rook.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Daniel O’Malley’s Royal Gambit, which is out July 15th 2025.
Alexandra Dennis-Palmer-Hudson-Gilmore-Garnsey (call me “Alix”), the twelfth Lady Mondegreen, has never had any control of her life. Her ability to shatter bones with a touch made her the automatic property of the Checquy, the secret British government agency that deals with the supernatural. Her aristocratic ancestry made Alix the perfect asset for the Checquy to deploy close to the royal family. Since childhood, she has been coached to befriend Princess Louise, second in line to the throne, but the two have never been close. Now, Alix is a skilled operative who investigates unexplained phenomena for the security of the nation.
Everything changes when Louise’s brother, the Prince of Wales, dies abruptly and all signs point to an assassination by preternatural means. To protect Louise, the new heir apparent, Alix is assigned to be her lady-in-waiting. Thrust into the limelight overnight—both in the everyday world and in the underground world of the Checquy—Alix must juggle her responsibilities and her loyalties as she attempts to unravel the murder, keep Louise safe, and learn how to smile graciously while eerie threats loom around every corner.
The next morning, she woke up mired in her own hair, which, overnight, had escaped the hair tie and matted itself into a thicket around her head.
“Oh, fuck.”
Then she realized that the reason she had awoken was her phone attempting to drill a hole into her left eyeball as it vibrated.
“Oh, fuck.” She fumbled under her face and answered. “What?” she croaked.
“Pawn Mondegreen, I am connecting a call from Lady Farrier.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Quite,” agreed the assistant. “Connecting now.”
“Pawn Mondegreen” came the Lady’s voice.
“Yes, my lady. I’m here. I’m awake.”
“I should hope so, it’s eight in the morning.” Alix opened her eyes.
The Lady’s claim appeared legitimate — morning light was streaming in through the windows, and birds had the bad taste to be tweeting — but it seemed impossible. “Odette and I are en route to Buckingham Palace.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ll meet with you in the conference room.”
“I’ll be ready,” said Alix, but she’d already been hung up on. She realized she had nothing to change into, and her outfit now looked exactly like it had been slept in.
Is it worth showering if I’m just going to be putting on the same dirty clothes? Or should I spend that time getting coffee?
Fifteen minutes later (five of which had consisted of her fighting with her own hair), she was in the conference room, facing Lady Farrier and Odette, sipping coffee, and trying not to think about how she smelled. Next to her was a suitcase — someone had gone to her London flat and packed some clothes.
“Pawn Claes carried out the autopsy,” Odette was saying.
“Pawn Claes,” repeated Alix. “Right.” She’d never met Naomi Claes but knew the name. According to awed office chatter, she was a Grafter who had been born with a male body and had set about rectifying that error by her own hand as soon as the opportunity existed to do so to her own standards and expectations. Apparently she looked to be in her sixties but was actually in her four-hundred-and-nineties.
“They found nothing abnormal, no apparent cause of death, except in the prince’s skull. The pyramid that I saw in his brain turned out to be the corner of a perfect cube of gray granite, 7.62 centimeters on each side, right in the center of his brain.”
“How?” asked Alix. Odette shrugged.
“No entry wounds, obviously. The surrounding brain tissue was undisturbed. The bone of his skull was completely intact with no signs of any interference.”
It’s like a locked room mystery. If the locked room were someone’s skull.
“It’s possible the brain tissue had been transmuted into stone. Or swapped places with it.”
“God. Could it have been Edward unknowingly having powers and accidentally igniting them?” Alix asked.
“It doesn’t seem like a very beneficial ability,” said Odette.
“There are precedents for people and animals being consumed by their own abilities,” said Farrier. “Although we haven’t seen this particular phenomenon before. It’s not listed in any of the records.”
“Remember that poor boy in Wolverhampton who cut the top of his own head off with his tongue?” said Alix.
“Last month, a woman in Ennis stabbed what she thought was an intruder, but it turned out to be herself two minutes in the future,” said Farrier. “Then, while she was looking down at the body in shock, she got stabbed by her own past self.”
“My God!” exclaimed Odette.
“Yes, it was quite bad,” agreed the Lady. “And so confusing for the investigators. When we sent in Clements to watch it in the past, she had a migraine for hours.” Alix noticed Odette wince a little at that.
Glad I wasn’t working on that one, she thought.
“So,” continued Farrier, “we cannot be certain whether it was the result of the prince developing abilities or whether it was caused by someone or something else. The public story, however, is that the prince died of a brain aneurysm. The Prime Minister will be recommending a period of national mourning beginning today and lasting until the day of the funeral.”
“How long will that be?” asked Alix.
“A week is usual,” said Lady Farrier. “Meanwhile, we will undertake a full investigation. Given the high profile of the subject, we’ll need to be exceptionally discreet.”
“Who will be made aware of the truth?” asked Alix.
“I will be informing the King right after this,” Farrier said.
“Is the prince’s wife going to be told?” asked Alix.
“Absolutely not,” Farrier said. “She is unaware of our existence, and I see no reason to read her in now.”
“And the crown princess?” asked Odette.
“She’ll have to be told the truth eventually, right?” said Alix. “About everything.”
“Not necessarily,” said Lady Farrier.
“She’s going to be queen!”
“Not every monarch learns of our existence,” said Farrier. “The King’s mother was never informed, and there’s concern that knowledge of the Checquy’s operations may have contributed to George the Third’s instability.” She sighed. “People can be even more brittle nowadays. They’re often unable to cope with revelations that contradict their lived experience. I blame television and the Internet, frankly. People think they know everything. In the old days, if you told someone they had been attacked by a monster, they were more able to cope with the idea.”
“Anyway, we will not inform Princess Louise for the moment. When — if — we do brief the crown princess, it will be in a controlled manner, with significant preparation,” said Farrier. “In the meantime, Alexandra, you’ll continue here in the palace, shadowing the princess and providing immediate security.”
Up until she banishes me, thought Alix grimly. It was clear that Louise was beginning to look upon her as a constant reminder of how horribly things had changed, and how oppressive life was going to become.
“Odette,” Lady Farrier continued, “has Prince Nicholas been in touch with you?”
“He called me last night,” Odette said. “He’d like me to be here.”
“I’ll leave you with Pawn Mondegreen, then. There are pawns among the security teams as well. Pawn Ganly is coordinating our presence here.” She looked at her watch. “We are still operating under alert status Heliotrope until at least tomorrow afternoon.”
They all looked up as the distant sound of bells began tolling across the city.
“His death was announced last night,” said Alix. “Why are they only ringing now?”
“They’ve judged there’s been enough time for word to have filtered out, so there won’t be any confusion as to what’s happening,” said Lady Farrier. “This was the hour of the prince’s birth.”
