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![The Winner's Curse (The Winner's Trilogy Book 1) by [Marie Rutkoski]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51fdt6MDCEL._SY346_.jpg)
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The Winner's Curse (The Winner's Trilogy Book 1) Kindle Edition
Marie Rutkoski
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Reading age12 - 18 years
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LanguageEnglish
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Grade level7 - 9
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Lexile measure680L
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PublisherFarrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)
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Publication dateMarch 4, 2014
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ISBN-13978-0374384678
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“*[A] spellbinding first book in a trilogy about a pair of star-crossed lovers in a society marred by class warfare....Like any epic page-turner worth its salt, Rutkoski's richly imagined world is full of dynamic repartee, gruesome battle scenes, and shifting alliances. A high-stakes cliffhanger will leave readers eagerly awaiting the next book.” ―Publishers Weekly, STARRED REVIEW
“*Rich characterization, exquisite worldbuilding and rock-solid storytelling make this a fantasy of unusual intelligence and depth...Precise details and elegant prose make this world fresh and vivid. The intricate and suspenseful plot, filled with politics, intrigue and even graphic violence, features neither heroes nor villains; every character displays a complex mixture of talents, flaws and motives...Breathtaking, tragic and true.” ―Kirkus Reviews, STARRED REVIEW
“*A forbidden romance. The romance is heartstoppingly lovely and admittedly steamy . . . but the raising of stakes and the reluctance of the couple to give up their respective cause, even as they confess their love for each other, lends their relationship a complexity not often seen in the genre . . . A last-minute compromise between the lovers secures a sequel, and fans of Kristin Cashore and Robin Lefevers will be pleased to have a new romance to follow.” ―BCCB, STARRED REVIEW
“Every line in The Winner's Curse is beautifully written. The story is masterfully plotted. The characters' dilemmas fascinated me and tore at my heart. This book gave me a rare and special reading experience: I never knew what was going to happen next. I loved it. I want more.” ―Kristin Cashore, New York Times bestselling author of the Graceling Realm books
“The Winner's Curse is breathtaking, a lyrical triumph in YA fantasy. Marie Rutkoski writes with tremendous power and has created an epic of fearless beauty. This book should not be missed.” ―Ann Aguirre, New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of the Razorland trilogy
“The Winner's Curse is magnificent. Gorgeous writing graces every page, and the story of Kestrel and Arin unfolds with all the complexity and beauty of a sonata. I was completely transfixed by them and their world.” ―Sarah Beth Durst, author of Conjured
About the Author
From School Library Journal
From Booklist
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
She shouldn’t have been tempted.
This is what Kestrel thought as she swept the sailors’ silver off the impromptu gaming table set up in a corner of the market.
“Don’t go,” said one sailor.
“Stay,” said another, but Kestrel cinched her wrist-strap velvet purse shut. The sun had lowered, and caramelized the color of things, which meant that she had played cards long enough to be noticed by someone who mattered.
Someone who would tell her father.
Cards wasn’t even her favorite game. The silver wouldn’t begin to pay for her silk dress, snagged from the splintery crate she had used as a stool. But sailors were much better adversaries than the average aristocrat. They flipped cards with feral tricks, swore when they lost, swore when they won, would gouge the last silver keystone coin out of a friend. And they cheated. Kestrel especially liked it when they cheated. It made beating them not quite so easy.
She smiled and left them. Then her smile faded. This hour of thrilling risk was going to cost her. It wasn’t the gambling that would infuriate her father, or the company she had kept. No, General Trajan was going to want to know why his daughter was in the city market alone.
Other people wondered, too. She saw it in their eyes as she threaded through market stalls offering open sacks of spice, the scents mingling with salty air that wafted from the nearby port. Kestrel guessed the words people didn’t dare whisper as she passed. Of course they didn’t speak. They knew who she was. And she knew what they would say.
Where was Lady Kestrel’s escort?
And if she had no friend or family available to escort her to the market, where was her slave?
Well, as for a slave, they had been left at her villa. Kestrel did not need them.
As for the whereabouts of her escort, she was wondering the same thing.
Jess had wandered off to look at the wares. Kestrel last saw her weaving like a flower-drunk bee through the stalls, her pale blond hair almost white in the summer sun. Technically, Jess could get in as much trouble as Kestrel. It wasn’t allowed for a young Valorian girl who wasn’t a member of the military to walk alone. But Jess’s parents doted on her, and they hardly had the same notion of discipline as the highest-ranking general in the Valorian army.
Kestrel scanned the stalls for her friend, and finally caught the gleam of blond braids styled in the latest fashion. Jess was talking to a jewelry seller who dangled a pair of earrings. The translucent gold droplets caught the light.
Kestrel drew closer.
“Topaz,” the elderly woman was saying to Jess. “To brighten your lovely brown eyes. Only ten keystones.”
There was a hard set to the jewelry seller’s mouth. Kestrel met the woman’s gray eyes and noticed that her wrinkled skin was browned from years of working outdoors. She was Herrani, but a brand on her wrist proved that she was free. Kestrel wondered how she had earned that freedom. Slaves freed by their masters were rare.
Jess glanced up. “Oh, Kestrel,” she breathed. “Aren’t these earrings perfect?”
Maybe if the weight of silver in Kestrel’s purse hadn’t dragged at her wrist she would have said nothing. Maybe if that drag at her wrist hadn’t also dragged at her heart with dread, Kestrel would have thought before she spoke. But instead she blurted what was the obvious truth. “They’re not topaz. They’re glass.”
There was a sudden bubble of silence. It expanded, grew thin and sheer. People around them were listening. The earrings trembled in midair.
Because the jewelry seller’s bony fingers were trembling.
Because Kestrel had just accused her of trying to cheat a Valorian.
And what would happen next? What would happen to any Herrani in this woman’s position? What would the crowd witness?
An officer of the city guard called to the scene. A plea of innocence, ignored. Old hands bound to the whipping post. Lashes until blood darkened the market dirt.
“Let me see,” Kestrel said, her voice imperious, because she was very good at being imperious. She reached for the earrings and pretended to examine them. “Ah. It seems I was mistaken. Indeed they are topaz.”
“Take them,” whispered the jewelry seller.
“We are not poor. We have no need of a gift from someone such as you.” Kestrel set coins on the woman’s table. The bubble of silence broke, and shoppers returned to discussing whatever ware had caught their fancy.
Kestrel gave the earrings to Jess and led her away.
As they walked, Jess studied one earring, letting it swing like a tiny bell. “So they are real?”
“No.”
“How can you tell?”
“They’re completely unclouded,” Kestrel said. “No flaws. Ten keystones was too cheap a price for topaz of that quality.”
Jess might have commented that ten keystones was too great a price for glass. But she said only, “The Herrani would say that the god of lies must love you, you see things so clearly.”
Kestrel remembered the woman’s stricken gray eyes. “The Herrani tell too many stories.” They had been dreamers. Her father always said that this was why they had been easy to conquer.
“Everyone loves stories,” Jess said.
Kestrel stopped to take the earrings from Jess and slip them into her friend’s ears. “Then wear these to the next society dinner. Tell everyone you paid an outrageous sum, and they will believe they’re true jewels. Isn’t that what stories do, make real things fake, and fake things real?”
Jess smiled, turning her head from side to side so that the earrings glittered. “Well? Am I beautiful?”
“Silly. You know you are.”
Jess led the way now, slipping past a table with brass bowls holding powdered dye. “It’s my turn to buy something for you,” she said.
“I have everything I need.”
“You sound like an old woman! One would think you’re seventy, not seventeen.”
The crowd was thicker now, filled with the golden features of Valorians, hair and skin and eyes ranging from honey tones to light brown. The occasional dark heads belonged to well-dressed house slaves, who had come with their masters and stayed close to their sides.
“Don’t look so troubled,” Jess said. “Come, I will find something to make you happy. A bracelet?”
But that reminded Kestrel of the jewelry seller. “We should go home.”
“Sheet music?”
Kestrel hesitated.
“Aha,” said Jess. She seized Kestrel’s hand. “Don’t let go.”
This was an old game. Kestrel closed her eyes and was tugged blindly after Jess, who laughed, and then Kestrel laughed, too, as she had years ago when they first met.
The general had been impatient with his daughter’s mourning. “Your mother’s been dead half a year,” he had said. “That is long enough.” Finally, he had had a senator in a nearby villa bring his daughter, also eight years old, to visit. The men went inside Kestrel’s house. The girls were told to stay outside. “Play,” the general had ordered.
Jess had chattered at Kestrel, who ignored her. Finally, Jess stopped. “Close your eyes,” she said.
Curious, Kestrel did.
Jess had grabbed her hand. “Don’t let go!” They tore over the general’s grassy grounds, slipping and tumbling and laughing.
It was like that now, except for the press of people around them.
Jess slowed. Then she stopped and said, “Oh.”
Kestrel opened her eyes.
The girls had come to a waist-high wooden barrier that overlooked a pit below. “You brought me here?”
“I didn’t mean to,” said Jess. “I got distracted by a woman’s hat—did you know hats are in fashion?—and was following to get a better look, and…”
“And brought us to the slave market.” The crowd had congealed behind them, noisy with restless anticipation. There would be an auction soon.
Kestrel stepped back. She heard a smothered oath when her heel met someone’s toes.
“We’ll never get out now,” Jess said. “We might as well stay until the auction’s over.”
Hundreds of Valorians were gathered before the barrier, which curved in a wide semicircle. Everyone in the crowd was dressed in silks, each with a dagger strapped to the hip, though some—like Jess—wore it more as an ornamental toy than a weapon.
The pit below was empty, save for a large wooden auction block.
“At least we have a good view.” Jess shrugged.
Kestrel knew that Jess understood why her friend had claimed loudly that the glass earrings were topaz. Jess understood why they had been purchased. But the girl’s shrug reminded Kestrel that there were certain things they couldn’t discuss.
“Ah,” said a pointy-chinned woman at Kestrel’s side. “At last.” Her eyes narrowed on the pit and the stocky man walking into its center. He was Herrani, with the typical black hair, though his skin was pale from an easy life, no doubt due to the same favoritism that had gotten him this job. This was someone who had learned how to please his Valorian conquerors.
The auctioneer stood in front of the block.
“Show us a girl first,” called the woman at Kestrel’s side, her voice both loud and languid.
Many voices were shouting now, each calling for what they wanted to see. Kestrel found it hard to breathe.
“A girl!” yelled the pointy-chinned woman, this time more loudly.
The auctioneer, who had been sweeping his hands toward him as if gathering the cries and excitement, paused when the woman’s shout cut through the noise. He glanced at her, then at Kestrel. A flicker of surprise seemed to show on his face. She thought that she must have imagined it, for he skipped on to Jess, then peered in a full semicircle at all the Valorians against the barrier above and around him.
He raised a hand. Silence fell. “I have something very special for you.”
The acoustics of the pit were made to carry a whisper, and the auctioneer knew his trade. His soft voice made everyone lean closer.
His hand shifted to beckon toward the open, yet roofed and shadowed structure built low and small at the back of the pit. He twitched his fingers once, then twice, and something stirred in the holding pen.
A young man stepped out.
The crowd murmured. Bewilderment grew as the slave slowly paced across the yellow sand. He stepped onto the auction block.
This was nothing special.
“Nineteen years old, and in fine condition.” The auctioneer clapped the slave on the back. “This one,” he said, “would be perfect for the house.”
Laughter rushed through the crowd. Valorians nudged each other and praised the auctioneer. He knew how to entertain.
The slave was bad goods. He looked, Kestrel thought, like a brute. A deep bruise on the slave’s cheek was evidence of a fight and a promise that he would be difficult to control. His bare arms were muscular, which likely only confirmed the crowd’s belief that he would be best working for someone with a whip in hand. Perhaps in another life he could have been groomed for a house; his hair was brown, light enough to please some Valorians, and while his features couldn’t be discerned from Kestrel’s distance, there was a proud line in the way he stood. But his skin was bronzed from outdoor labor, and surely it was to such work that he would return. He might be purchased by someone who needed a dockworker or a builder of walls.
Yet the auctioneer kept up his joke. “He could serve at your table.”
More laughter.
“Or be your valet.”
Valorians held their sides and fluttered their fingers, begging the auctioneer to stop, stop, he was too funny.
“I want to leave,” Kestrel told Jess, who pretended not to hear.
“All right, all right.” The auctioneer grinned. “The lad does have some real skills. On my honor,” he added, laying a hand over his heart, and the crowd chuckled again, for it was common knowledge that there was no such thing as Herrani honor. “This slave has been trained as a blacksmith. He would be perfect for any soldier, especially for an officer with a guard of his own and weapons to maintain.”
There was a murmur of interest. Herrani blacksmiths were rare. If Kestrel’s father were here, he would probably bid. His guard had long complained about the quality of the city blacksmith’s work.
“Shall we start the bidding?” said the auctioneer. “Five pilasters. Do I hear five bronze pilasters for the boy? Ladies and gentlemen, you could not hire a blacksmith for so little.”
“Five,” someone called.
“Six.”
And the bidding began in earnest.
The bodies at Kestrel’s back might as well have been stone. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t look at the expressions of her people. She couldn’t catch the attention of Jess, or stare into the too-bright sky. These were all the reasons, she decided, why it was impossible to gaze anywhere else but at the slave.
“Oh, come now,” said the auctioneer. “He’s worth at least ten.”
The slave’s shoulders stiffened. The bidding continued.
Kestrel closed her eyes. When the price reached twenty-five pilasters, Jess said, “Kestrel, are you ill?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll leave as soon as it’s over. It won’t be long now.”
There was a lull in the bidding. It appeared the slave would go for twenty-five pilasters, a pitiful price, yet as much as anyone was willing to pay for a person who would soon be worked into uselessness.
“My dear Valorians,” said the auctioneer. “I have forgotten one thing. Are you sure he wouldn’t make a fine house slave? Because this lad can sing.”
Kestrel opened her eyes.
“Imagine music during dinner, how charmed your guests will be.” The auctioneer glanced up at the slave, who stood tall on his block. “Go on. Sing for them.”
Only then did the slave shift position. It was a slight movement and quickly stilled, but Jess sucked in her breath as if she, like Kestrel, expected a fight to break out in the pit below.
The auctioneer hissed at the slave in rapid Herrani, too quietly for Kestrel to understand.
The slave answered in his language. His voice was low: “No.”
Perhaps he didn’t know the acoustics of the pit. Perhaps he didn’t care, or worry that any Valorian knew at least enough Herrani to understand him. No matter. The auction was over now. No one would want him. Probably the person who had offered twenty-five pilasters was already regretting a bid for someone so intractable that he wouldn’t obey even his own kind.
But his refusal touched Kestrel. The stony set of the slave’s shoulders reminded her of herself, when her father demanded something that she couldn’t give.
The auctioneer was furious. He should have closed the sale or at least made a show of asking for a higher price, but he simply stood there, fists at his sides, likely trying to figure out how he could punish the young man before passing him on to the misery of cutting rock, or the heat of the forge.
Kestrel’s hand moved on its own. “A keystone,” she called.
The auctioneer turned. He sought the crowd. When he found Kestrel a smile sparked his expression into cunning delight. “Ah,” he said, “there is someone who knows worth.”
“Kestrel.” Jess plucked at her sleeve. “What are you doing?”
The auctioneer’s voice boomed: “Going once, going twice—”
“Twelve keystones!” called a man leaning against the barrier across from Kestrel, on the other side of its semicircle.
The auctioneer’s jaw dropped. “Twelve?”
“Thirteen!” came another cry.
Kestrel inwardly winced. If she had to bid anything—and why, why had she?—it shouldn’t have been so high. Everyone thronged around the pit was looking at her: the general’s daughter, a high society bird who flitted from one respectable house to the next. They thought—
“Fourteen!”
They thought that if she wanted the slave, he must merit the price. There must be a reason to want him, too.
“Fifteen!”
And the delicious mystery of why made one bid top the next.
The slave was staring at her now, and no wonder, since it was she who had ignited this insanity. Kestrel felt something within her swing on the hinge of fate and choice.
She lifted her hand. “I bid twenty keystones.”
“Good heavens, girl,” said the pointy-chinned woman to her left. “Drop out. Why bid on him? Because he’s a singer? A singer of dirty Herrani drinking songs, if anything.”
Kestrel didn’t glance at her, or at Jess, though she sensed the girl was twisting her fingers. Kestrel’s gaze didn’t waver from the slave’s.
“Twenty-five!” shouted a woman from behind.
The price was now more than Kestrel had in her purse. The auctioneer looked like he barely knew what to do with himself. The bidding spiraled higher, each voice spurring the next until it seemed that a roped arrow was shooting through the members of the crowd, binding them together, drawing them tight with excitement.
Kestrel’s voice came out flat: “Fifty keystones.”
The sudden, stunned quiet hurt her ears. Jess gasped.
“Sold!” cried the auctioneer. His face was wild with joy. “To Lady Kestrel, for fifty keystones!” He tugged the slave off the block, and it was only then that the youth’s gaze broke away from Kestrel’s. He looked at the sand, so intently that he could have been reading his future there, until the auctioneer prodded him toward the pen.
Kestrel drew in a shaky breath. Her bones felt watery. What had she done?
Jess slipped a supporting hand under her elbow. “You are sick.”
“And rather light of purse, I’d say.” The pointy-chinned woman snickered. “Looks like someone’s suffering the Winner’s Curse.”
Kestrel turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t come to auctions often, do you? The Winner’s Curse is when you come out on top of the bid, but only by paying a steep price.”
The crowd was thinning. Already the auctioneer was bringing out someone else, but the rope of excitement that had bound the Valorians to the pit had disintegrated. The show was over. The path was now clear for Kestrel to leave, yet she couldn’t move.
“I don’t understand,” said Jess.
Neither did Kestrel. What had she been thinking? What had she been trying to prove?
Nothing, she told herself. Her back to the pit, she made her foot take the first step away from what she had done.
Nothing at all.
Text copyright © 2014 by Marie Rutkoski
Product details
- ASIN : B00ERWUQR4
- Publisher : Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR) (March 4, 2014)
- Publication date : March 4, 2014
- Language : English
- File size : 1312 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Print length : 369 pages
- Lending : Not Enabled
- Best Sellers Rank: #160,521 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
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Kestrel, the main, was wooden and emotionless. Even in situations where she should react and give an indication of how she is feeling, or speak up about what she thinks, she mostly just... stands there. Because it is third person POV and she is not big on emoting, we almost never know what she is feeling or thinking, or if she is even feeling or thinking anything. This book is basically Kestrel standing in different places and staring helplessly at men while things happen around her. I understand that her character is supposed to be stoic, but I feel it was executed very poorly.
She was also exceedingly inconsistent, and that further weakened her character's likeability. She doesn't want to join the military Because Reasons (hurting people?) but has no problem being constantly waited on by a multitude of slaves from a conquered nation? Stupid. She prides herself on being super self-sufficient but she can't even braid her own hair? Stupid. She loves Ronan, but when he proposes she says no? Stupid. She feels so bad for Arin being a captive that she buys him at auction, but then goes home and continues treating her existing captive slaves like home decor? Stupid. She feels remorse after she almost gets a poor street merchant in trouble over nothing, but doesn't hesitate to potentially ruin a different innocent woman's life by proclaiming that she had an affair, with no concrete evidence? Stupid. Inconsistent.
Secondly, Kestrel has no unique "voice." Her lines and mental dialogue could have been spoken by a middle-aged male character and they would have been the same. The character voices were all indistinguishable, come to think of it. Nobody had quirks, flaws, unique speech patterns. Everyone sounded the same and spoke in this cohesive, mature, upper-crust tone at all times - which is especially jarring considering they are supposed to be from very different cultures and social classes and walks of life. Wouldn't it make more sense (and lend more credence to their supposed differences) if some characters sounded more aristocratic and some more rustic? If some cussed and used slang and others didn't? If they sometimes struggled to get their point across? If they were occasionally lost for words or there were language barriers due to being from different countries? You'd think so, but you'd be wrong! Everyone in this book speaks like a college professor.
The male lead, Arin, while not as passive as Kestrel, is also painfully boring, and arguably the worst spy in the history of spies. He disguises his intentions to overthrow the kingdom by expressing his burning contempt for the kingdom at all times, voicing his subversive opinions whenever possible, and confronting/bossing around his owner, the FMC, in front of her peers and superiors every day. Yes, great way to fly under the radar. Very slave-y behavior. No one will notice anything.
But that's the thing... they don't. Kestrel doesn't. Even when he demands to be able to go to the city unsupervised whenever he wants, and demands 'house slave privileges' so he can memorize the layout of the general's house, Kestrel never suspects he is planning something. No clue. She simply says "okay" and goes back to staring at him. And she is supposed to be this brilliant strategist, the daughter of an army general? It was spelled out for her in neon: the rebellious slave wants revenge, he is performing reconnaissance in your own house and is definitely plotting to take the city, don't get distracted by his biceps!, and she's like "hmm, biceps." Good job, Kestrel.
As for the romance, what romance? Arin seems to genuinely loathe Kestrel, and not even in a passionate, tense way; he just seems to find her completely tiresome and uninteresting from the moment he meets her and spends a lot of the book avoiding her, walking away from her, or refusing to respond to her.
As for conflict, there was zero believable tension between anyone. There were some social rumors started and some terse words exchanged, but that's it. The danger, when it does crop up, is contrived and unconvincing, and over within a few minutes each time.
Irex (whose name I couldn't stop reading as T-Rex) could have been a great villain, but he was sidelined and then scared off by Kestrel threatening to spread a rumor about him. Yes, a rumor. Are we seriously expected to believe that a man who behaves the way he does would be cowed by the threat of an illegitimate child being revealed? That a man with an ego his size would agree to lose a duel to a small female rival in front of everyone? Come on. I would have loved if he said "that's nice, but everyone already knows I'm a scoundrel, so I don't care" and doubled down on his hate-lust for Kestrel and beat her in the duel, with consequences to follow. Instead, he surrenders without hesitation, throws the duel in her favor, and disappears.
I was sad to see T-Rex go, because he was the only character who interested me - if only for the potential I thought he had. The next time we see him, I believe, he is dead in a pile of bodies during the revolution. Lame.
Cheat (very subtle name for a traitor, btw) could have also been a good villain, but then he inexplicably tries to rape the heroine - which, okay, you have my attention, finally an actual bad guy who is actually behaving badly. But he is promptly stabbed by Arin. Like, within the same minute he reveals himself as an actual threat. There's some very subtle foreshadowing on the previous page between two characters who say "you know, I think Cheat is going to rape Kestrel," and then the next page there's the attempted rape, and then Cheat is dead on the next page, stabbed by Arin, who literally busts through a door like the Kool-Aid Man to save her. I hate when attempted rape of a female is used as a plot device for male character advancement, and in my estimation that happened for no reason other than to establish Arin as the badass "alpha" in the story, so I was disappointed in that.
Also, Arin is supposed to be this irredeemable monster because he is okay with Killing All Valorians to take back the city, but this is kind of a weak point when this turns into "All Valorians! ...except kids, and women to take care of those kids, and anyone you actually care about." Okay, considering the Valorian culture is comprised almost entirely of violent, warmongering slave-owners, I wasn't too torn up about this uprising against them. Kestrel's love interest and her best friend both survive the siege, and her dad, too. I believe only minor characters are killed off. Like the steward? Maybe some military officers we met one time? Rutkoski could have redeemed herself by creating some actual drama in killing off Jess and Ronan or her father or, you know, anyone she cared about, but no, they're fine. The core characters are all fine and totally unscathed and Kestrel has lost nothing. Oh, except she cut off her pretty blonde hair because she's so sad about being betrayed. If that counts. And no, she doesn't shave her head; she literally gives herself a shoulder-length bob and we're supposed to be shocked or something. Very important to stay sexy while suffering through an existential crisis, you know.
Lastly, this book definitely failed with respect to women characters. There were no powerful, competent woman characters in the main cast, except for Kestrel, which, well, that's debatable. And possibly a lady toward the end named Sardine (?) that I seem to remember. But she was painted as highly unlikable and possibly romantic competition for Arin despite being his cousin. All the major players were men. All the intelligence lay with men. All the power was held by men. All the forward motion came from men. I didn't care for it.
One book in this series has been enough for me.
In particular, Kestrel, the great strategist, spends most of the book sitting around waiting and complaining about her lot in life (whether it's a decision between becoming a soldier or marrying or doing nothing to save herself after she's made a prisoner) and never strategizing any solutions to her problems. She has brief moments of showing off her ability to strategize (best shown in how she competes in a duel), but for the most part is to too distracted by Arin to use this ability. It's Arin who succeeds most at plotting and picking up on his enemy's strengths in a way that helps drive the plot. So our female main character's one strength is overshadowed by the male love interest's ability to do the same.
I was also a little put off by how easily the audience was supposed to forgive Arin for taking part in the slaughtering of everyone Kestrel loves (and you know that if her dad was around, he wouldn't have blinked an eye in killing him too). Even as he was attempting to save her and they're sharing their first kiss, I'm thinking, "yeah, but what about her bestie, the other love interest, that nice guy who was helping her out...Arin's letting them die, *right now*" It's great to see the enslaved overcome their slavers, and revolutions of this sort often need bloodshed. However, the way it was presented, Arin was so narrow-focused and short-sighted, saving Kestrel but not considering how she would feel knowing that he had saved her but not her friends, not to mention taking her prisoner (though since she bought him as a slave, there is some poetic justice in that, at least).
I think that folks who are more into romances might enjoy this more, since it really does feel like a romance story with a revolution in the background. The first half is the slow burn to both of them realizing their feelings, and the second half is whether their relationship can weather Arin helping kill everyone Kestrel knows and taking her prisoner.
I was very satisfied with the ending to this one (some successes, some sacrifices for them both), and am happy to leave it there, but I know it is a trilogy, and I doubt those who were in it for the HEA romance would be satisfied.
I like that Kestral isn’t a soldier savant. I like that she has limits to her abilities. A lot of times, in YA, the leading lady is always really talented in everything and picks things up quickly. I liked that Kestral was different and was powerful because of her intelligence and cunning wisdom. I loved her place in the story. I loved Arin! I loved how he maintained his spirit and vigor throughout his enslavement. Their relationship is a beautiful one and I can’t wait to see what happens!
Top reviews from other countries

I story follows a high-ranking general’s daughter by the name of Kestrel. She is struggling to decide if she is to become a soldier like her father or a wife to high ranking blue blood. Kestrel and her farther live in a land that once belonged to another group. One of these people is a man named Arin a blacksmith who is currently for sale in the local slave market. Our lead characters meet when Kestrel stubbles in into the market and gets caught up in Arin’s auction. She wins by placing a large bid and wins. This large win in known as a Winner’s Curse (or you just paid too much for your bid). When Arin and Kestrel return to the general’s home she does not realise to has got more than she bargained for.
I read this one sitting, not something I normally do, but I am happy that I did. I enjoyed the authors writing style and the many twists and turns in the story. I would highly recommend.

The world building in this story is vast, yet it is so natural and does not feel forced. I liked the references that were made to the Greek/Roman culture, which made, for me, the world much easier to understand and visualise. Overall it made Kestral’s home seem so real, almost like we were reading about a far a way land.
The first part of the book felt a little slow as we had to deal with Kestral’s indecisiveness (and to be honest she was a bit of a pain) and Arin (or Smith, depending on where you are in the story) behaving, well not as he should. I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with him – he is not a very good slave. And then all the events seemed a little droll, there’s lots of balls and picnics and fun to be had. I only kept going because of the offerings of tantalising clues about what was to happen.
But then the second half picks this all up and the book completely changes tone. Everything that was mysterious in the first half suddenly makes sense and the political games start.
Torn between two sides, will the right decision be made? Will Kestral and Arin finally be together? I loved that both characters were flawed in how they handled situations, despite their strengths (both have brilliant minds and are good strategists), but also they both grow and develop as the story goes on.
Pretty much everything about The Winner’s Curse is perfect and I’m intrigued to see how the next book will turn out.

To read this novel, I first had to step out of my comfort zone. I'm not a big fantasy reader, and I wasn't sure how I'd find this book because of that, especially with it being categorised as 'high fantasy.' However, I am trying to broaden my bookish horizons, and so I picked this book up without really thinking about it, and just went ahead and started reading.
And I loved it.
The first thing I'd like to address, though, is that this is not a fantasy book. Granted, it's set in a fictional world, but that's where the fantastical side of this novel ends. (So, don't enter this novel expecting mythical creatures to come swooping onto the scene halfway through. You will be disappointed.) Frankly, The Winner's Curse is much richer than just fantasy; it's reminiscent, and unique, and flowery. Thus, I was happy to discover that I wasn't thrown too far out of my comfort zone this time.
In many ways, The Winner's Curse is much like George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones in that it orbits politics and tactics and wars to come. I really enjoyed this side of the book, as it was effortlessly interesting, and contributed to the deep and undeniable complexities of this book. I loved the way this book was like historical fiction, but in a complete other world. Marie Rutkoski addresses so many of the conflicts of our world's history, but with an exclusive, behind the scenes insight via Kestral and Arin's perspectives, and without the confines of one period in time.
In terms of writing, this novel is the pinnacle example of beautiful writing. Rutkoski takes her time with descriptions, and the world building displayed felt both effortless and wholly satisfying. I left this book feeling revitalised, like I'd just learnt something new, like I'd just had a history lesson I enjoyed. (That would be a first!)
In terms of characters, however, I did feel as though I was a little disconnected from our protagonist, Kestral. Whilst I loved how she differed from many of the current heroines in YA literature - she thinks with her head, not her fists, or her heart - it sometimes felt as though she was particularly aloof and detached. In short, there definitely wasn't a reader-narrator relationship like many form, not like in The Catcher in the Rye or The Book Thief, for instance.
However, similarly to The Catcher in the Rye, I've come to realise that this book is very love-or-hate within the bookish community. In spite of that, though, I strongly believe that if you stick with this book, you'll be able to reap the rewards. Frankly, the second half of this book is vastly superior to the former half. This only made room for world building, however, which I was not unhappy about for the latter half of the story, and as the action started to pick up.
Overall, despite this book taking me a surprisingly long time to read, I came away feeling as though I'd had a good experience with the book, as if I'd learnt something new, and as if I'd found a new book setting I enjoyed - historical-seeming fictional worlds. Thus, I awarded this novel 4/5 stars, and look forward to reading the following instalments to the series.

You get two different perspectives in the book, the main character Kestrel and the slave that she purchased Arin.
The development of Kestrel was great, she realised her strengths and used them to advantage and also allows herself to learn and to question right from wrong.
This book includes takes on such interesting/topical themes such as colonisation, slavery, tradition, rebellion and war. The main characters drive the plot and are intelligent in their own ways.
My one begrudge is the romantic relationship but nearer then end on the last few chapters it becomes far more interesting and the perceived conflict between the characters become more complex and you do start to route for them!

The book follows Kestrel, the widowed generals daughter, who must choose between joining the military and marriage. Neither of which Kestrel wants, she would prefer to concentrate on her love of music. She comes across Arin, a Herrani slave, whom she starts to have feeling for. There is more to Arin than Kestrel first realises, he is part of a rebellion to take back Herran, she doesn't see this coming and feels utterly betrayed. She has to decide what she wants more Arin's love or to remain true to her Valorian roots.
This book was a very quick read, things seemed to move forward rapidly. This made it a engrossing read, but, unfortunately, this was at the expense of world building and getting a deeper connection to the characters. Having said that this book had it all; teenage angst, forbidden love, rebellion and personal sacrifices. I enjoyed this read and will be reading the other books in the trilogy.
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