A review by orionmerlin
The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

adventurous challenging emotional mysterious tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

Characters: 9/10
Oh, the characters. Ead Duryan? Certified badass with secret magic, bodyguard duties, and enough moral complexity to make a therapist weep. Sabran? Queen, icon, drama queen, and absolutely dripping in high-pressure “have-a-daughter-or-the-world-ends” anxiety. Then there’s Tané, our overly ambitious dragonrider-in-training with a guilt complex big enough to have its own ZIP code. Even the secondary cast—like Loth, the soft-hearted noble turned unwilling spy, and Niclays, the exiled grumpy gay alchemist with a wine dependency—had clear arcs and juicy flaws. I could pitch their personalities in a bar after two drinks and a shot of espresso. That’s saying something.  
Atmosphere/Setting: 10/10
I was absolutely drowning in this world, and I loved it. Shannon crafted a globe-spanning saga, and each locale—be it the austere, wyrm-fearing Virtudom or the sea-drenched, dragon-revering Seiiki—was distinct and alive. The East/West cultural split wasn’t just flavor text; it was the narrative engine, and it drove everything from politics to religion to personal beefs. And the DRAGONS—holy scale-snapping glory, they’re elegant and strange and absolutely not your generic fire-breathing lizards. Give me more of that weird, mist-emitting, pearl-producing dragon magic, please.  
Writing Style: 8/10
Shannon’s prose walked the tightrope between lyrical and digestible without falling into purple prose hell. There were moments of quiet beauty (“water made flesh,” describing dragons? Ugh, yes) and others where I could feel her flexing just a bit too hard. But overall, I never stumbled or groaned, and the mix of narration and dialogue flowed like dragonflight. The multiple POVs were handled with a surgeon’s hand, not a meat cleaver, and I’d happily read her in another genre just to see what she'd do with it.  
Plot: 7/10
This was an epic fantasy brick of a book, and it knew it. The pacing, though? It occasionally thought it was running a triathlon through molasses. There were some draggy middle chapters where I could’ve sworn the plot was chasing its tail. But the payoff—oh boy, the payoff. Assassins, ancient evil, court intrigue, dragon duels, and sapphic romance all smashed together in a gloriously ambitious crescendo. It was a bit like watching a political thriller crash into a dragon anime with a side of secret society drama—and I mean that as a compliment. Mostly.  
Intrigue: 8/10
Did I ignore real-life responsibilities to see if Sabran would ever get a clue about Ead? Absolutely. Did I barrel through the dragon trials with Tané while side-eyeing the increasingly sketchy magic politics? Yep. Were there moments where I put the book down because I needed a breather from the intensity and not because I was bored? Also yes. My interest level never dipped into apathy, but occasionally the book got a little too obsessed with its own lore. Like, okay, I get it—ancient evil, dragon cults, destiny—can we please move along?  
Logic/Relationships: 9/10
The internal logic of the world was chef’s kiss. The East/West tension made sense, the magic systems were distinct but not handwavey, and I didn’t spot any gaping plot holes big enough for a dragon to fly through. Relationships felt earned and deliciously messy. Ead and Sabran’s will-they-won’t-they (they did!) was tense, slow-burning, and complicated by power, duty, and trauma. Tané’s guilt spiral and her bond with her dragon (and Susa!) had weight. Niclays? My bitter little heart adored his arc of regret, longing, and queasy pragmatism.  
Enjoyment: 9/10
Was this a dense, intimidating doorstopper of a book? Yes. Did I enjoy nearly every page like a rich, forbidden feast in a court full of backstabbers? Also yes. The blend of court politics, sapphic romance, dragon lore, and world-ending stakes was utterly satisfying. I was invested, emotional, and occasionally yelling “WHAT NOW?!” into the void. And I’d absolutely recommend this to anyone who wants a high fantasy epic that doesn’t erase queer women or relegate dragons to glorified taxis.  
Final Verdict: 8.6/10 – Gloriously queer, unapologetically epic, occasionally long-winded, but worth every word.
If Game of Thrones had less incest, more lesbians, and actual competent queens, it would look a lot like The Priory of the Orange Tree.

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