3.5 stars

While I did undeniably enjoy this novel, I’m not sure that it lived up to its predecessor. Both books in the duology are quick, captivating, fiercely feminist reads, but Grace and Fury was inexplicably more intriguing to me than Queen of Ruin.

I loved seeing Serina, Nomi, and all of the women from Mount Ruin fight societal expectations and people alike. The sisters were comfortable in their new roles despite hardships and nightmares, despite only being sure of their love for each other and the need to incite change in their country. However, on the other hand, every single named male character felt two-dimensional. Whether good or bad, family or love interest, they had one main personality trait each and I just...didn’t care about any of them.

Another issue I had was mentioned in my review of the first book as well: the romance. How am I supposed to care about romantic relationships when one half of each couple is plainer than vanilla ice cream? A fair amount of emphasis is put on Serina and Val as a pairing, as well as the possibility of Malachi and Nomi having feelings for each other. I was hoping my doubts from the previous novel would be erased here, with such bonds getting more page time and, therefore, development. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

The one exception to this complaint is the sapphic couple, Maris and Helena. They’re reunited early on in the novel after unfair separation prior to Grave and Fury, and I love them with my entire heart.

My biggest problem was the length of the book. Although I don’t mind shorter fantasies — in fact, I wouldn’t mind it if there were more of them — sometimes a lower page count can be detrimental. In this case, the world-building suffered once again, as did the plot itself. I still know next to nothing about Viridia or the surrounding lands, aside from the tidbits about a nearby country called Azura treating its women significantly better.

This story centers around rising up against a vicious ruler, against oppression and sexism and societal norms. There’s some training and planning, and plenty of fighting. But because it’s shorter, there wasn’t much time for the novel to explore the ups and downs of rebellion, the scheming and love, lies and tension. It was simply overcoming obstacle after obstacle, and after a while, it felt formulaic, without many surprises or much shock value.

The ending was mostly satisfying, and thus, a redeemable quality for the book as a whole. Banghart didn’t take it in the direction I expected, but I’m okay with that. The gays stayed together — I might not be straight, but my priorities are — and everything was wrapped up nicely. If anything, I would’ve liked an epilogue, another short chapter set a few months or maybe a year in the future, describing how the promised changes were received and if they were effective. (I also wouldn’t have minded more about Maris and Helena, and maybe a bit of the protagonists as well.)

All in all, despite my criticisms, Queen of Ruin was a good, well-written conclusion to a very underrated duology. I’d recommend these books to anyone looking for more feminism in their YA fantasy, and/or a fun — albeit bloody and emotional — quick story.

Representation:
• Maris and Helena, two side characters, are openly sapphic and in a relationship.

CW: sexism, blood/gore, violence, war, murder, death