He turned back, expressionless. “I’m sorry. Was there something else, Lady?”

“Why did they bring me a mare, when you all ride stallions?”

“We didn’t know if you’d be able to ride, Lady,” he replied, and this time there was no mistaking the mockery in his voice. “We didn’t know if you could control a stallion.”

Kelsea narrowed her eyes. “What the hell did you think I was doing out there in the woods all these years?”

“Playing with dolls, Lady. Putting up your hair. Trying on dresses, perhaps.”

“Do I look like a girl’s girl to you, Lazarus?” Kelsea felt her voice rising. Several heads had turned toward them now. “Do I look like I spend hours in front of the mirror?”

“Not in the slightest.”

There were some niggling annoyances already showing at this point, but I thought I’d certainly come out of this book more satisfied than not when Kelsea started showing such fire at least. I was looking forward to taking this journey with her as it was obvious that she was about to step into a kingdom that seemed to have little love for her mother and would probably have less for her, especially given no one knows who her father is. There’s also the threat of the queen in a neighboring country and her own uncle who isn’t keen on giving up his rule of Tearling. However, then, we start getting more problems.

First thing, the endless contradictions. Example: one passage Kelsea mentions that one of her guards is devastatingly handsome despite his age and another guard is much younger than the rest and closer to her in age, and then, in the next passage, she thinks they’re all too old for her to find attractive, which clearly isn’t the case as she’s already been eyeing the handsome guard and noted the young guard. Then, a few pages later she notes all the guards are handsome even the one she just noted with a mouthful of broken teeth (as long as he kept his mouth closed). There were many moments like that in this book that I found a bit distracting.

Second issue: What is this world? I mean, really, what is it? At first, I thought I was just reading a fantasy novel set in the usual fantasy world, but it seems like I was actually reading about a dystopian (maybe) future world that regressed for some reason. I’m not sure what that reason is, though. We’re only told of something called The Crossing that happened 300 years ago where nobody thought to preserve knowledge and instead got on Noah’s boat and went on a cruise or something. Was there war? Did famine/supply shortages kill most of the population? Natural disasters? Are they even on Earth anymore? What the fuck is New Europe? What the fuck happened to Old Europe? Why is there a New London? What in the hell is going on here? It’s odd to hear about America and Europe existing at some point, but not anymore–or at least not how we’re used to it–and having zero explanation for it, especially when from time to time you hear about things that used to exist before (like birth control) that they had to find new ways to implement after this Crossing. Unless I missed it. Sometimes, I’m okay with catastrophic events being vague in books. It can work well for some books, but that does not work for this story because of the fantasy impression it gives you. Fantasy stories ask for the world to be explored. It needs to be explored in this setting.

Third issue. There are way too many moments that made me say, “But why would you do that?” There aren’t too many books that don’t get that from me at least once, but the real challenge is making the read so enjoyable that I can forgive and forget. I was only able to do that about half the time with this book. Stupid decision after stupid decision. Ridiculous scene after ridiculous scene. I wanted to know when some of this madness would end. Who in their right mind would think any of these things were smart? I was kind of hoping they’d kill each other in a dramatic fashion.

At least I still had Kelsea… wrong. Kelsea took to the world much better than you’d expect for someone who has been isolated, even with her teachings. I don’t care how much you’ve been taught in your little rustic cabin with your books. Real life isn’t as linear as a book. It’s a complicated affair. She fell into the role of being a ruler a little too well. She started out so promising, but then failed to grow as a character. She was above it all, and it saddened me because she could’ve really come into her own. She actually became quite annoying as the book went on with her constant worrying about not turning out like her mother (who wasn’t that great she learns) while managing to be that kind of condescending that people who have more morals than everyone else manage to be sometimes. I was summarily irked with everything she did by the end of this book. Everything worked out so well for her. She wasn’t pretty, but she was loved by everyone because apparently she’s the only good person in the world and that’s probably because she was basically a hermit for nineteen years.

But hey, at least, I got passages like this:

A thick, guttural sound came from behind her, and the Queen whirled around. But it was only the slave in her bed. She had forgotten about him. He’d performed well, and she’d kept him for the night; a good fuck chased the dreams right away.

Because clearly having prophetic dreams about your demise are just as easily forgotten as that slave in your bed when you remember you have a slave in your bed you’d forgotten about. That has to count for something, right? However, I did like the Red Queen as an antagonist. I really enjoyed her chapters and felt that Johansen set her up as a great foil if only Kelsea had given me more. The Red Queen is kind of what I wished Adora had turned out to to be in Storm Siren. Also, the little tinge of romance actually was something, if I’m to take that as romance. It was very unconventional, even if the jerk love interest is a relatively typical thing. If that was supposed to be romance that is. I don’t know. It wasn’t just in your face at all. It might just be the start of a weird friendship. This book had me all sideways. I’m probably not thinking about this thing right.

The narrator of this book, Katherine Kellgren, was a strange creature. Her narration definitely fit the strange nature of this book. I think I listened to this book in a kind of bewildered amazement for quite some time. One moment she was simply amazing with narration, and then, the next she seemed to be screaming for no particular reason. It was kind of funny. I don’t think she’s a terrible narrator. In fact, I’d venture to say that she’s quite good when she’s not randomly screaming. I’m laughing now thinking about all the screaming as I write this review. However, she did do voices both male and female justice and narrated the story well when she wasn’t off her hinges. Yes, I did mention that the second book was an audiobook I was looking forward to, but Davina Porter is narrating the second book. I’m sure she’ll be a little more consistent. (Edit: As of this posting, I’ve listened to Katherine Kellgren narrate another story, which I listened to after this book, and she is a fine narrator, but I’d already written this review prior to that story.)

I know I shouldn’t be interested in seeing where this story is going, but I’m a glutton for punishment, and I have to know what’s going to happen next. Kelsea was starting to show some gray areas at the end there, areas that hinted at more than just a girl trying to play queen. I know she’s going to have to make some tough choices, but some of her decrees and demands at the end didn’t seem so much like touch choices than, “I’m queen. I do what I want.” So, I’m interested to see where that is going, if it goes anywhere.