From publisher blurb:
The air is thick with the scent of burning myrrh and the rusted perfume of old blood. The city of Vel-Sharun, ancient beyond reckoning, stands upon the bones of forgotten kings, its towers draped in ivy and its catacombs whispering with the ghosts of betrayals past. Here, in the court of veiled daggers, where words cut deeper than steel and a single glance can spell ruin, war is waged in the shadows, and the battlefield is not of earth and stone, but of whispered promises and poisoned goblets. An envoy has been slain. Not in the crude manner of brigands or warbands, but with the precision of an artist—his throat slit from ear to ear, his blood painted in spirals upon the marble floor of the Black Spire of Qorathun. You have been summoned, not as a warrior, but as an instrument of deception, a knife hidden within silk, to uncover the hand that guides the blade of treachery.
But in Vel-Sharun, truth is a game played by fools, and you may find that in seeking it, you become its next victim.