Sylphrena
Hmm, it's a little hard to gather my thoughts on this one. I liked the quick hook, I felt engaged early in the story and didn't feel my momentum was hampered much by the narrative shifts, which usually bother me a ton. I was enjoying myself for most of the book, but it feel like it the last sixty pages of the book felt more like setup for the sequel than the conclusion it deserved. I'm not sure it's a deal-breaker, but I closed the book with a lot less less enthusiasm than I did at the climax.
“I’m fine,” said Priya, dazed. “I’m fine.” She was suddenly kneeling. Had she planned to kneel? She wasn’t sure. Malini was beside her, knee touching her own.
I'm just a sucker for a character that keeps on finding herself on the floor...
"I feel less dizzy than I did a moment ago,” [Malini] agreed. “I never thought I’d see the day when I would be complimented on not falling over. How my life has changed.”
I appreciated that the conflicts with the love interest didn't feel contrived, actually adding to the tension instead of leaving you rolling your eyes at partners that cannot speak their mind.
Priya felt as if her racing pulse, quick with panic, tripped over itself for a moment. Frozen, she felt her understanding of the princess—of this—shift upon its axis. She thought of Bhumika’s words from the sangam, suddenly. I must use all the tools in my arsenal, she’d said. The princess was a daughter of the empire. The princess was trapped and desperate. And Priya was… useful. She’d been a fool.
And ugh, I do also love the hostage situations, like...
[...] [Pramila] raised the knife an increment further. A thicker rivulet of blood snaked down Priya’s throat.
“Don’t hurt her,” Malini said, and was horrified to hear her voice falter all of its own accord. By the mothers, it was one thing to tremble when she had chosen to do it. It was quite another to do it now, when an air of command had momentarily held Pramila still, and perhaps could again. “Don’t—Pramila, she is nothing.”
“Nothing,” Pramila repeated. “Nothing and yet—look at you. Are you going to weep? I think you might. If you’re debased enough that you’d cry over a maid, then—good. Good!” Pramila’s laugh was more a sob, a haunting ribbon of grief. “You took everything from me!”
Malini had felt helpless in the past. She did not feel helpless now, although she should have. Her cheek was throbbing. Her head was spinning with stars.
“If you kill her,” she said, in a voice that seemed to come from somewhere far beyond her, from somewhere old and beyond mortal lifetimes, “you do not know what you will make of me. I will see you ruined, Pramila. I will see your living daughters ruined. I will blot all that brings you joy out of this world. I will murder more than your flesh. I will murder your heart and spirit and the very memory of your name and your lineage. I vow it.”
There was another scene like this that I didn't think to quote, but I do love this trope, almost as much as Malini holding a knife to Priya's chest in a later standoff.
Finally, this:
She realized she was crying. She dashed her eyes with the backs of her hands, furious with herself for weeping like a little girl. No matter how old she grew, family it seemed still had the power to hurt her. They had saved each other. He’d left her for Bhumika to raise, because he’d loved her. He’d hurt her because he loved her. Love. As if love excused anything. As if the knowledge that he was cruel and vicious and willing to harm her made her heart ache any less.
It's a very quotable book, with lots of moments and flowery wording that compelled me to record them. I think there is a lot of merit in this book and I'll certainly read the next one soon, but I do wish that it had as satisfactory of an ending as it would have if it was not the start of a trilogy. I hope the momentum holds for the remainder of the book, and perhaps I need to suck it up about the slow ending, I just hate to see a book held back by a sequel.
Hmm, it's a little hard to gather my thoughts on this one. I liked the quick hook, I felt engaged early in the story and didn't feel my momentum was hampered much by the narrative shifts, which usually bother me a ton. I was enjoying myself for most of the book, but it feel like it the last sixty pages of the book felt more like setup for the sequel than the conclusion it deserved. I'm not sure it's a deal-breaker, but I closed the book with a lot less less enthusiasm than I did at the climax.
“I’m fine,” said Priya, dazed. “I’m fine.” She was suddenly kneeling. Had she planned to kneel? She wasn’t sure. Malini was beside her, knee touching her own.
I'm just a sucker for a character that keeps on finding herself on the floor...
"I feel less dizzy than I did a moment ago,” [Malini] agreed. “I never thought I’d see the day when I would be complimented on not falling over. How my life has changed.”
I appreciated that the conflicts with the love interest didn't feel contrived, actually adding to the tension instead of leaving you rolling your eyes at partners that cannot speak their mind.
Priya felt as if her racing pulse, quick with panic, tripped over itself for a moment. Frozen, she felt her understanding of the princess—of this—shift upon its axis. She thought of Bhumika’s words from the sangam, suddenly. I must use all the tools in my arsenal, she’d said. The princess was a daughter of the empire. The princess was trapped and desperate. And Priya was… useful. She’d been a fool.
And ugh, I do also love the hostage situations, like...
[...] [Pramila] raised the knife an increment further. A thicker rivulet of blood snaked down Priya’s throat.
“Don’t hurt her,” Malini said, and was horrified to hear her voice falter all of its own accord. By the mothers, it was one thing to tremble when she had chosen to do it. It was quite another to do it now, when an air of command had momentarily held Pramila still, and perhaps could again. “Don’t—Pramila, she is nothing.”
“Nothing,” Pramila repeated. “Nothing and yet—look at you. Are you going to weep? I think you might. If you’re debased enough that you’d cry over a maid, then—good. Good!” Pramila’s laugh was more a sob, a haunting ribbon of grief. “You took everything from me!”
Malini had felt helpless in the past. She did not feel helpless now, although she should have. Her cheek was throbbing. Her head was spinning with stars.
“If you kill her,” she said, in a voice that seemed to come from somewhere far beyond her, from somewhere old and beyond mortal lifetimes, “you do not know what you will make of me. I will see you ruined, Pramila. I will see your living daughters ruined. I will blot all that brings you joy out of this world. I will murder more than your flesh. I will murder your heart and spirit and the very memory of your name and your lineage. I vow it.”
There was another scene like this that I didn't think to quote, but I do love this trope, almost as much as Malini holding a knife to Priya's chest in a later standoff.
Finally, this:
She realized she was crying. She dashed her eyes with the backs of her hands, furious with herself for weeping like a little girl. No matter how old she grew, family it seemed still had the power to hurt her. They had saved each other. He’d left her for Bhumika to raise, because he’d loved her. He’d hurt her because he loved her. Love. As if love excused anything. As if the knowledge that he was cruel and vicious and willing to harm her made her heart ache any less.
It's a very quotable book, with lots of moments and flowery wording that compelled me to record them. I think there is a lot of merit in this book and I'll certainly read the next one soon, but I do wish that it had as satisfactory of an ending as it would have if it was not the start of a trilogy. I hope the momentum holds for the remainder of the book, and perhaps I need to suck it up about the slow ending, I just hate to see a book held back by a sequel.