Reviewed by Ambrea
Murian
MacDonald loved Rowallen Castle, and she loved the immeasurably happy life she
lived. But when the earl killed her
husband and stole Rowallen from beneath her, Murian vowed revenge. Now, she waylays the earl’s wealthy guests
with a loyal band of misfits, trying to lure him and his guards into pursuit so
she may sneak back into the castle and find evidence of his misdeeds.
Her
plan is working well, until she stops the coach of Gregori Maksim Romanovin, a
prince of Oxenburg, and the Grand Duchess Natasha Nikolaevna. Although she bests him in a duel and makes
off with her prize, Murian hasn’t heard the last of Prince Max—and, whether she
likes it or not, she may very well need his help if she hopes to reclaim
Rowallen and defeat despicable earl who ruined her life.
I
rather liked Karen Hawkin’s novel, The
Prince and I. It’s a curious
blending of romance and Robin Hood, and I enjoyed it. Max is the quintessential hero: dark, brooding, capable and confident—not to
mention, he’s a literal prince. Murian,
on the other hand, is anything but a damsel in distress: she’s calm, competent, hard-working and
surprisingly agile with a blade. She’s
been dealt a terrible hand, having lost her husband and her home, but she’s
making the best of her situation and managing to survive.
When
a sweet romance develops between them, I couldn’t help gush over the tenderness
of their relationship. Murian is driven
by her desire for revenge and, while it does mark her growing affection for
Max, it also makes her a more conflicted, complicated character. Their relationship isn’t cut and dry, rather
they’re faced with a number of hurdles to jump, not least of which a conniving earl
that will see Murian dead and Max brought to heel.
It’s
rather exciting.
However,
I think my favorite character was Max’s grandmother, the Grand Duchess. Natasha was, by far, the most comical
character and, I think, the most knowledgeable.
She doesn’t care how others perceive her; rather, she likes the idea
that others consider her a witch. (It’s
why she most often threatens to turn others into goats and frogs. She much prefers infamy to anonymity.) Moreover, she’s often caught in the thick of
trouble, one way or another, and yet she still manages to turn circumstances
exactly how she wants them.
This
last quality makes me think that she’s not the doddering old witch she likes
her grandson to think she is. Natasha is
wily, not necessarily senile; in fact, she strikes me as being preternaturally
intelligent. For instance, if she hadn’t
lost in a card game to the earl, they never would have traveled to Scotland. Max would never have met Murian; Max would
never have gotten involved in the earl’s business and discovered what the man
did.
Natasha
is the force that propels the story forward.
She helps shape it the most and, while she may seem laughably naïve or
even foolish, I have this feeling that she’s not what she seems. Throughout the story as I learned more about
her, I had this odd suspicion that she knew exactly what she was doing, that
she calculated every move to her—and, by proxy, her grandson’s—benefit.
Personally,
she’s part of what made The Prince and I
so enjoyable. I may have to read more of
the series if it means I can reacquaint myself with the Grand Duchess.
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