4.5!!!
This was utterly delightful—a feast for my fantasy starved soul.
I have yet to figure out how to articulate my whirling, endless, ineffable thoughts about the things I love. But every attempt brings me a little closer to myself, unveils a part of me I wouldn't have otherwise been privy to. I read to escape, and sometimes to know, but I write to understand. And so, here we are again—for you, always, but for myself too.
This Vicious Grace follows Alessa, the divinely ordained protector and savior of her home island of Saverio, as an apocalyptic invasion of demonic creatures nears. But her power only works by amplifying another’s; together, they would be the most lethal of weapons. The problem? Alessa has killed all three of her partners, and the elementally gifted are few to begin with. Will she be able to bring her people to safety and secure their victory, or will she be their downfall, destined to kill with every touch?
The world Thiede creates in this book is wonderfully unique but, mercifully, not overly or unnecessarily complicated. Instead of throwing information at you, she introduces terms naturally and with enough context that you can work things out yourself. She knows her readers can piece together the clues to form the bigger picture, and she rewards us tremendously with a story that never gets bogged down by tedious exposition or an overwrought magic system. She weaves Italian culture into the story so seamlessly; though it was in the finer details, it was still such a joy to read. Each chapter starts with a proverb, originally in Italian and translated to English (I assume from Dante’s little book of proverbs that he loves to reference), which was such a nice touch.
I try to avoid talking about prose in genre fiction because it tends to be either straightforward or mediocre, especially if it’s geared to a younger audience, but the writing here is just so lovely and fits the story so well. There are plenty of well crafted sentences and metaphors, and the lush, vivid descriptions are so immersive and make for a beautiful, atmospheric read. I miss it already.
There is a precious balance in writing a compelling protagonist, in crafting a character who is flawed and hurting but still inspires respect and sympathy and even adoration. Though you would rightfully expect a fantasy novel like this to be largely plot driven, there is little action until the last 10% or so. There are, of course, plot twists and moments that keep you engaged, but Thiede fills her pages with character work, deliberately and masterfully fleshing them out so they almost leap off the paper.
Following Alessa through her struggles and as she grapples with the weight of the world made my heart ache; she was forced to abandon her identity, her family, and any chance at a normal life because the Gods’ had chosen her, whether she wanted that role or not. We are only introduced to her several years after she’s been isolated in the Citadella, but we catch remnants of the girl who was, and we watch, transfixed, as her hazy figure evolves into clearly defined strokes—from an obedient girl who puts her head down and does as told rises a beacon of power, a friend, a lover, a daughter, someone who takes up space willingly and unapologetically, who stands up for herself and the people she loves, who learns to trust herself and gains the courage to bend the rules when all they do is hold her back.
She is strong but gentle, formidable but kind, unyielding at times but brave enough to forgive. She is everything I want to be, and more.
I won’t lie to you, when I first picked this book up, I flipped to a random page, saw the name “Dante” and was like… yeah, you’re coming home with me. I couldn’t explain it to you if you had a knife to my throat, but it’s such a pretty name and maybe even subconsciously made me partial toward him before I'd even met him. But still, I didn’t anticipate him becoming one of my favorite book characters… ever.
If Alessa’s story made my heart ache, Dante’s shattered it and then wrung my soul dry for good measure. He was dealt such an unfortunate hand, suffered through so much loss, endured lifetimes’ worth of cruelty that the mere thought of his backstory makes me want to curl up into a ball and sob for hours. And though he believes he’s evil, that he could never be worthy of all the good that life has to offer, his actions show the opposite. It takes extraordinary strength to choose kindness after years of being beaten and brutalized, to meet inhumanity not with bloodthirsty vengeance but with a deluge of compassion. I adore my grumpy, hardened love interests who don protective armor to conceal their softer, gentler cores. Show us what you guard so intently, make us root for you. He did that and so much more. Dante deserves a quiet, peaceful life with no one to bother him but Alessa.
“He’d stayed when he could’ve left, loved when he could have hated, and he’d let himself be locked up to protect people who had no qualms about making him suffer.”
Good grief, give him (and us) a break, I’m begging.
Alessa and Dante’s relationship is everything. She hires him as her bodyguard, though he only accepts begrudgingly. They can’t quite stand each other at first, which makes for highly entertaining banter, but as the novel progresses, their playful dynamic develops into a friendship of sorts, where each is the other’s confidant, their one reprieve from the viciousness of the outside world. They shared so many soft, vulnerable moments that my feelings for them as a couple flourished alongside their feelings for each other. Their emotional connection was on another level, and it made it so easy, so natural, to want more of them together. Their love grew slowly, like a rose blooming. It is breathtaking in its beauty and so precious to read about—two pained souls with too little hope and too much trauma find comfort and warmth and home in each other. They are quite possibly one of my favorite fantasy couples ever. The way they respect and admire and lift each other up? The sacrifices they’re willing to make in the name of love? How do you get over that? You don’t.
The side characters were also incredible. I wanted to smack all of them at first; they came off as haughty and standoffish and seemed to have little faith in Alessa, who was merely trying to make the best of an unfortunate situation. But wow did they grow on me. Kaleb, in particular. I thought there was no way in hell Thiede could make me like him. And… she did. It’s a testament to her writing and vision that she was able to make me despise a character so thoroughly only to adore them shortly thereafter.
The first chunk of this book had me giddy from Alessa and Dante’s interactions, the next sobered me up because things were not going their way, and by the end, I was a mess. I’m not someone who cries all that much, but my unshed tears blurred the words so much I had to put the book down for a moment. At that point, these people felt like family and these pages like home. I spent so long with them, savored every second, and it still wasn’t enough. I was so invested in this rollercoaster of a ride, in the future of Saverio, in what was next for these characters. I desperately wanted to finish it, wanted to know if they’d be safe, while also really really wanting to shut the book and hold onto these memories as long as I can because saying goodbye would be unbearable.
It baffles me that this book only has 15k ratings. Thiede poured her heart and soul into it, and it shows. When I started reading this, I didn’t think I’d get a carefully crafted story about identity and community, about coming into your power and letting go of tradition when it doesn’t serve you, or about not letting what you are define who you are. But I did, and I’m so grateful that I took a chance on it. It deserves so much more love.
If you like young adult fantasy and unique and well thought out magic systems that spare you the headache of acclimating to a new world, or if you like great banter and bodyguard romances, or if you simply want a book about self discovery and having faith in yourself when it feels like everyone is against you, read this. I desperately hope you love it even half as much as I did.