The story was okay. The romance felt rushed, particularly toward the end, but I was intrigued by this original retelling of The Little Mermaid and the dynamics between the characters. I’m skipping over a lot of what I liked— empathy magic, the “rules” the prince had to follow forbidding preferential treatment, the sea stairs. The story wasn’t sketched out fully enough— I was initially confused by the heroine’s motivations and backstory; I really wish the magic system was more fully developed and explored, because it was interesting and had a lot of potential; the story wrapped up too easily and oddly without real conflict.
The prince continually pressures Magdalena throughout the book, most intensely in the last third or so, to be more intimate than she is comfortable with— from coming to her room at night to kissing her in front of other people to prompting her to take her hair down and hoping to catch her in her nightgown. Those things might sound really innocent, but the fact that she was uncomfortable with them made me, the reader, uncomfortable. If she tells you repeatedly she doesn’t want you in her room alone at night, well, frankly, you should’ve listened the first time, but definitely respect her boundaries when it comes up again, dude! Magdalena clearly feels that any sexual intimacy needs to wait for marriage. I… wasn’t entirely on board with this kind of patriarchal thinking in the context of a fantasy romance (she wasn’t doing it because she worried about what might happen to her if the king found out, but because it was “inappropriate”), but whatever, I appreciate that she’s setting firm boundaries and sticking to them, and the prince does listen. But. He’s clearly not happy about it and is determined to push Magdalena as far as she’ll allow, and over and over again she has to be the one to say no, we’re not going any farther than kissing. Flashback to my Catholic school Religion Class unit on Sex Ed, where they taught us in class that girls need to say no and mean it, even if boys pressured us, or else we would train boys to not believe us when we said “no” and “stop” later on— the implication being, as in this book, that it is the girl’s job to stop anything sexual from happening before marriage. Everything about that makes me grind my teeth. I wasn’t pleased to see it in a light fantasy book.
But what really bothered me came toward the end:
“When fay and humans join together, the children they produce are sterile. Such a union marks the end of their line. On a grander scale, it threatens the existence of each species. Everything in the world has its proper order. Fay belong with fay, and humans with humans. No magic is powerful enough to change that. It is a law, not a suggestion.”
Leaving aside that eugenics or bloodlines or whatever seem totally unnecessary to this story (who cares if a couple can have kids or not if they aren’t even in love and only one of them has any interest in a relationship?? How is it relevant?), and leaving aside the whole thing about fay being too different because they don’t have souls (that got strange at the end)— the above quote struck me as wildly homophobic. Possibly I’m reading too much into this? But I really can’t unsee it as a transparent metaphor for LGBTQ+ people and some of the arguments people use against same-sex relationships.
It made me not want to read the author any more, and considering that I’m definitely the outlier here among high starred reviews by people who really enjoyed this, I think I won’t, because I don’t like leaving negative reviews. The author clearly has an inventive mind for retellings and stories about medieval royals (I read and enjoyed The Heir and the Spare before reading this).