Book Review: The Girl Who Belonged to the Sea
Book Title: The Girl Who Belonged to the Sea (The Azantian Trilogy #1)
Author: Katherine Quinn
Purchase: Amazon
Rating: ⭐️⭐️½
Description from Goodreads:
One woman chosen by the God of the Sea. A king hellbent on saving his mysterious island home. And a forbidden romance that could destroy them all.
Forced to marry the wealthy Count Casbian by her power-hungry father, Margrete turns to the gods, praying for a life free from the men who wish to rule her. Across the sea, a ruthless immortal answers…
Planning to use Margrete to reclaim a powerful relic stolen from his people, Bash, a devilishly handsome king, kidnaps Margrete on the day of her nuptials. Bringing her to his home, the mystical island of Azantian, it isn't long before a devastating secret is revealed—one that ties Margrete to the gods themselves.
Drawn to the spirited woman he's sworn to hate, Bash cannot stay away from Margrete and the passion she ignites within him. When the lines begin to blur, Margrete must make a choice between a fiery love, and saving the realm from the dangerous magic awakening inside of her soul.
Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars
As hard as I tried, I struggled to connect with this book and its characters. I’m left disappointed with the characterization and world-building, both aspects that I found completely underdeveloped. The crux of the issue is a reliance on telling instead of showing and expecting the romantic tension to carry the bulk of the story. That said, the romance is sufficiently steamy—and I even like both the main characters—but unfortunately, I don’t believe them.
The Girl Who Belonged to the Sea reads as very similar to A Court of Mist and Fury but without any of the emotional resonance. There’s the handsome, sharp-tongued King Bash and the feisty, beautiful Margrete who Bash falls for because she puts him in his place. We have Bash’s two closest comrades, the warrior-couple Adrian and Bay. Ortum is the wizened powerful advisor and Shade, the only other woman besides Margrete, is a woefully undeveloped treasurer and friend. Throw in the bad guys—Count Casbian and Margrete’s sadistic father—and we have our Tamlin and King Hybern, respectively.
The thing is, I was drawn into the description because I love ACOMAF, so a similar setup isn’t necessarily a bad thing for me. But none of Quinn’s characters feel unique or even particularly interesting mainly because Margrete spends precious little time getting to know anyone besides Bash on a deeper level; I have no idea what any of their personalities are. And even Bash and Margrete are too perfect, leaving little room for growth.
And for some reason, the novel is full of men. Aside from Shade, who’s introduced for a nanosecond and then seen sparingly in dinner scenes (literally who even is Shade???), and Margrete’s perfectly pure sister Birdie, who exists as a plot device to ensure you feel suitably bad for Margrete and to drive home the dad’s villainy, Margrete is the only woman we get to know. Who even is Margrete outside her relationship to Bash? Where are the friendships? Even Margrete’s burgeoning friendships with Adrian and Bay are extremely surface-level, given that they take place over a cumulative few days. All I know about them is that they’re described as perfect people with no flaws or nuance.
This novel spans only a few weeks, which is a personal pet peeve of mine when developing a romance. I’m all for lusty scenes between consenting adults and very down to watch Bash and Margrete act on their mutual attraction, banging it out whenever the mood strikes. But when we start getting into “I’d recognize his voice anywhere” and “She’s the only one who truly sees me” territory after a few short weeks—including numerous days where Bash and Margrete barely interact—I start to roll my eyes. By the end, these two are willing to die for each other, yet this level of devotion doesn’t feel at all earned. I like them together, sure, but I haven’t come to care for them individually and certainly don’t buy that their relationship has progressed this far, this quickly.
Bash is probably my favorite character but he’s also wildly inconsistent. As King, he’s adored—walks down the street and is mobbed by his people wanting a casual touch or smile. Cool... but why? I don’t know. His friends and advisors all speak very highly of him, which is a good sign. But then out of nowhere, we’ll get these lines about how “broken” he is and how he can’t believe Margrete wants him anyway, when he’s never been depicted as broken before, nothing in his past explaining this sentiment.
Similarly, as he falls for Margrete, there are moments when he mentions finally being seen by someone, no longer feeling lonely, no longer like it’s him against the world. Again, I’m flummoxed. He seems to have a crew of close friends—since when is he lonely? Doesn’t he open up to them? And if not, why Margrete? These all feel like convenient throwaway lines to build to an “epic romance” that don’t make sense given what we’ve seen thus far.
As I mentioned earlier, one of the biggest disappointments is the total lack of world-building. Azantian sounds so cool! Sea-glass buildings in every shade, rare and beautiful flowers, an entirely different species of beings, some with sexy moving tattoos. Yet we barely venture into this world. There’s a quick scene describing the various types of markets and some of the flora, but we don’t see Margrete explore the city, we don’t see interactions with the people of Azantian, we don’t learn much about their lore or background. We catch a quick glimpse and that’s it.
We don’t even really explore the castle Margrete stays in—not the grounds, the food, court politics, fighting techniques unique to them—nothing. Everything is largely glossed over in favor of more pining and back-and-forth with Bash and Margrete. And as much as I enjoy their repartee, their banter isn’t enough to make me care about this world.
I wanted to like this book so much! It has all the elements I typically want: enemies to lovers, a secret magical island, a feisty protagonist with a quick wit, even a training montage. And on the real, the cover is gorgeous. But the characters’ motivations are largely black and white, especially when it comes to the villains, and many of their actions are obvious plot machinations. That said, the second half of the novel really picks up and I’m tempted to read the next in the series to see if we venture into a more unique story and dive more deeply into the world and people of Azantian.