#sylvia x arin

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Why is everyone not reading this book? Where are all the people obsessing with me while we wait in agony for Book 2 (in 2025, apparently)? Can we please please suffer together because OMFG this is the best fantasy I've read in A WHILE.

It's got all my favorite tropes: secret princess/queen, morally gray heroine, enemies to lovers, slow burn, cool-ass worldbuilding, "Who did this to you?" w/tenderly touching scars, and more.

JOIN ME, READ IT

[ao3serketlurks]

At The Shrine of Your Lies

by Serket8lues Fandom: The Scorched Throne

Tags: the victor's ball, dancing, songfic, song: Take Me To Church (Hozier), angst, lies, fluff, Sylvia x Arin

Not Rated | No Archive Warnings Apply -

Arin offered his hand. “I believe we have an agreement.”

“Have you learned your steps?”

Arin swept me in a turn, hooking me under his arm and spinning me out...He reeled me in with a grin that I wanted to pocket. “At the age of nine.”

“Liar.” I shook my head with mock outrage. The music swelled as I took his hand, my white gloves in his black ones - mine worn to hide and deceive, his worn for protection from the outside world. We were opposites. We were imperfect pieces. We understood each other.

The musicians began playing a slower song, and the woman at the front sang:

My lover’s got humor, She’s the giggle at a funeral,

My eyes were locked on Arin’s, intense, and what I used to see only as expressionless but now understood to be focused. The corner of his lips twitched when I said “Are you sure you don’t want to hear my joke about the Heir and the Champion?”

Knows everybody’s disapproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner.

“Don’t tell me,” he whispered, “show me.”

If the heavens ever did speak She’s the last true mouth piece.

“But showing you is no joke,” I bit my lip. I mouthed “I love you, Arin.”

I was Jasadi. He was Heir of Nizahl, Lord Commander of the charge against the magic in my veins. But we were both made of flesh, of bone, of soul.

Every Sunday’s getting more bleak a fresh poison each week We were born sick You heard them say it

Magic was madness, they said. It drove the best people to no good. Humans brought war, I thought, for the army of the magic-less nation had torn the children of Usr Jasad into blood. And yet, Arin of Nizahl gazed into my eyes. And yet, I gazed into his.

My church offers no absolutes, she tells me, ‘Worship in the bedroom’ The only Heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

Our steps lead us from beside the musicians to the center of the ballroom. The faces of the royals, the guards, and even Supreme Rawain faded from my view. The short space between Arin’s chest and mine while we danced was somewhere else, somewhere private, and the warmth radiated through me.

I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well A-, amen Amen, amen

When the orchestra picked up, I twirled him, and laughter colored his cheeks. His eyes were bright, sparkling, and he gasped “I love you, Sylvia.”

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

An ache trembled in my chest. Sylvia, my chosen name, what I told him I preferred to be called when I told him I was Mervat, a different Jasadi noble. He still didn’t know the threat I was, didn’t know that the Jasadi of his forbidden affections was not only Jasadi, but Essiya, the Jasadi Heir.

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

My eyes flickered down to the spot where I'd held my knife to his throat, the day that he told me that knife threat would be my last. It felt like a lifetime ago. His hair had shaken loose into a curtain of silver, and hidden from the eyes of the ballroom, my lips ghosted over the spot. Arin made a happy sound, so quiet I felt it more than I heard it, and I pressed my mouth to his skin.

If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight To keep the goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice Drain the whole sea, get something shiny

Sultana Vaida was glittering across the room, the avatar of Lukub's opulence. Felix and his attendant had been lifted into laughter at something one of the other royals said, and the mirth in the room was decadent. I could almost see why our fathers and their fathers had chosen selfishness and corruption in the face of such splendor. They forgot that every life was sacred, and every person born was worth love. That was why my grandparents had locked my mother away in her tower, and her love was why she wailed there for the rest of her life. They couldn't bear to see such truth. To my mother, her husband shone more light than the Awals and Awalas themselves. No jewel in the world could compare to Arin's eyes as we danced.

Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful

The cord of a necklace peaked out from Arin's collar, just for a second. He was wearing the date necklace I'd given him. I smiled as I remembered the underground kitchen, and how this man, this literal prince was content eating gruel til my complaining became annoying enough. But then, maybe it wasn't just annoyance. I remembered how Wes and Jeru bantered, and how they'd marveled that Arin had instructed one of his best guards to spend a day surveying the markets by Mahair, to discover what sort of menu Omalians were accustomed to. Arin was so careful and thorough in everything he did. So steady.

That looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work

We turned to let past two servants carrying large trays of drinks, and Arin's cheek pressed against mine for a beat. My magic slipped, much to my surprise, and I saw a brief glimpse into his mind, an image of what could have been if we'd stayed in my bed. In his mind's eye, I was exposed, lying supine on my the bed, eyes closed and whimpering his name. My thighs were clenched around his head, and the heightening sensations of pain and pleasure welled up in him while he kissed my most private place. The glimpse lasted only seconds, but I could see he was blushing, and I swallowed hard, trying not to squirm.

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

"Why do you keep saving me?" Arin had asked days ago, before I understood that I had fallen in love with my enemy. "Why do you keep needing to be saved?" I'd shouted back. Now at present, in the ballroom, all I wanted to do was stay in the safety of his embrace forever.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then, I am human Only then, I am clean

I wanted to kiss him. I couldn't. My magic would pain him. My escape plan would be ruined.

Oh, oh, amen Amen, amen Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

Arin's own self-control battled behind his icey eyes. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and his hand was firmer now on my waist, his breaths a little heavier in a way that had nothing to do with physical exertion. The music hushed to a hum before the final chorus, and in the beat of near-silence, I wasn't sure if the pounding in my ears was my heartbeat or his. Just as the singer began again, Arin twirled me.

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog

"I love you," he whispered in my ear when our steps brought us back together. "Sylvia. Suraira. Jasadi. You."

at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins,

"I love you," I said desperately, coming up empty for words to explain in kind. "Arin...Lord Commander of Nizahl... Your Highness... I love you with my whole being."

and you can sharpen your knife

It was like the dangerous words were as freeing as being invisible on a walk at night. It was the truth, it was painful, and yet it was as comfortable as my favorite ways to hide.

Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God,

The song ended, and the musicians transitioned into a livelier beat, one with less chance for closeness, but appropriate for a celebration.

let me give you my life.

We danced.

[tbookblurbs]

The Jasad Heir - Sara Hashem

4/5 - Good debut, intriguing characters, romance was ... interesting, world-building and pacing could use some work.

SPOILERS BELOW!

This was Sara Hashem's debut novel and it is a strong debut! Her main character, Sylvia, pulls you in right from the start and her unreliable narration makes the the twists throughout the book that much more shocking. Her enemy, the prince of Nizhal, is not quite as compelling, but he makes up for it in sheer menace.

However, the pacing of the plot leaves a little something to be desired. We don't get into the plot until a solid 20-30% of the book goes by and from there the pacing is a little bit like being in the car with someone who's just learning how to drive. Very start-stop-start-stop-start for the remainder of the book. When things are happening they are happening, and when things are not, they are not.

The worldbuilding is interesting but could be fleshed out a little more. The biggest criticism I've seen of the romance in this book is that it's a colonizer x colonized person and that is true, but it's also always a little weird to me when someone who is EMPLOYING someone then enters into a romantic relationship with that same someone. Especially when this isn't really employment but rather coercion. Sarah J Maas tries to pull the same trick (TWICE) with Celaena Sardothien and Chaol/Dorian and it doesn't really work there either. There are just, fundamentally, too many barriers and power imbalances for this to work out. Technically, Sylvia/Essiya x Arin could be possible and way less weird later in the story, but setting it up now just feels a little odd.

I still would totally recommend this to anyone who likes a strong but flawed main character, those specifically looking for Egyptian representation in high fantasy, or anyone who liked the Throne of Glass series. It's a similar character set-up, albeit with a bit more of a nuanced look on the whole situation. I didn't know that the author who wrote it was Egyptian at the time and the little details that were unfamiliar to me made it, if anything, more enjoyable because they were unknown.