Ok, that was pretty good. The kind of good that doesn't become clear until the very end. Let me explain:
When I think back on this novel, it's easy to focus on the extremely slow burn of the romance, or the well-defined and endearing characters - for this is a dual-protagonist story, despite being written from the very narrow viewpoint of only one of them - or the eccentric worldbuilding that relies on some really odd gender roles to function. But I think what's most distinctive about it, actually, is its use of negative space.
The prose exhibits it a lot. The book is written, more or less, like a chronicle or a journal. A lot of details are skipped over, a lot of events are mentioned only in passing as the canvas of warfare upon which our poor tribute of a protagonist's life unfolds. Many times over, what we would think of as essential details (like what was the word on the pink beaded necklace? WHAT WAS IT ALEX??) are intentionally, tantalizingly omitted. The book does this constantly. And the end shows, quite plainly, why that was the whole point.
Throughout the story, we are privy to Kanna's/Kanina's/Kanan's opinions on everyone and everything around them. They are a war prisoner in a hostile land, after all, and the only freedom they have is inside their own head. So they watch, they think, and they judge judge judge. And often they're perfectly adequate in their assessments - smarter, quicker, more clear-headed than those around them. We grow to trust them. They keep saying, with transparently increasing fondness, how bullishly simple and unintelligent, how unsophisticated Prince Parnach is in his sincerity and bluntness. He is the antithesis of the den of snakes that surrounds Kanan.
Which is what makes the final part/"verse" of this book so excellent. It is *wonderful* to hear how much has been going on off-screen, as it were, outside of our and Kanan's limited perspective, and beyond the reach of their judgement. It's a great way to use such an unreliable, subjective narrator, a great way to conclude a love story, and a genuinely elegant way to tie a story's broader arc to the moment-to-moment prose. Alex Singer has *got it*.
I would have liked the book to be a bit plainer with its worldbuilding - at least include a map, or a description of how these lands sit in relation to one another. I would also have liked language to be more carefully used ("heresy" is a type of teaching, "blasphemy" is a sort of remark; both these words are used instead of "sacrilege"). It is oddly modern in its use of expressions at certain points, which undermines the whole pre-Christian/Levantine-punk vibe of the setting. I'd also have liked the conclusion to be more drawn-out, better set-up and less abrupt. I recognize that making it all so sudden exposes how *incorrect* some of the narrator's assumptions have been, but still I think it could have stretched for another chapter or two.
These shortcomings are minor, however. The book is excellent. Five stars!