Thirty-something me has no patience for gutless heroines pining after oblivious idiots.

I still love tropes pining and angst, but first give me a character I can stand to watch pine. Give me someone who isn't afraid of living and going after something she wants and give me a real reason why she should pine in silence instead. Don't give me "for four years she was his doormat and loved every second of it because of his kids." 

The rating wavered between one and two stars, but I've read worse. Much worse. 

...but not to me.

This is one of those books where the characters are good, the story is decent—as decent as is possible with any simple fairytale—the worldbuilding is quite interesting and it's original enough to make anew something old. Sure the writing is a bit too descriptive for my taste but that's often the case with fantasy books. The ending is engaging enough that I practically devoured the last 25% mostly because I'd become to care about the characters by then.

And yet, I'm not moved beyond three stars.

There was too much slogging through in the beginning and too many times I stopped to wonder why Frederick and Charlotte hadn't been caught yet. I just couldn't connect.

Maybe if this had been a fantasy novel with romantic elements instead of a genre romance with fantasy elements the rating would be higher.

Ollie's on his knees giving Ben a blowjob and I just needed a bit more build up for this. Like an actual conversation.

It's when you can't stop listening because the voice in your ears is ah-mah-zing and talented, but if you slow to think about what that heavenly voice is whispering you lose your wits.

That.

The writing isn't worth stepping on in a farm yard, but the narrator is brilliant and I can't understand why he hasn't read more books and books I actually want to read.

Might rant about this later.

Short version:

LGBTQ representation nightmare to the power of three.

Admittedly, mine cuppeth hast been overflowing on the first part from very early on this series—and trilogy—nor am I qualified to analyse all the ways Hobb fails in writing about the tattooed slaves, so this is going to be a short review. Again.

This trilogy has all the melodrama and angsty plot twists I usually love in my reading, but execution matters. Boy, does it matter.

Hobb touches on serious matters and then promptly glosses over the aftermath. Instead of confronting their issues, her characters—and the author—like to take the easy way out and act as if the briefest acknowledgement of their issues is a victory worthy of an Olympic medal, or a HEA.

The only reason I kept reading and will keep reading Hobb is Amber. She's on a ship that sails no matter what. If you know what I mean. *wink wink nudge nudge*