Book: The Swan Prince by Ari Roper
Reviewed by chronically.bookd
Rating: 5/5
I'm sorry this is so late! đ
Ari is an auto-buy author for me. Everything she writes is fantastic, and The Swan Prince is no exception.
Aria hasn't exactly had an easy life growing up on the streets as a thief. She's eventually taken in by the 40 where she meets her best friend Jax. Now grown up, Jax convinces her to impersonate a princess at a ball hosted for Prince Zephyr to choose a bride.
âShall I fetch a sword? You look prepared to duel your own corset.â
Prince Zephyr is fed up with prim and proper posturing royals. Women who say the right things, and act a certain way because they're taught to. He wants someone to see him as a person, not the crown he wears. Aria is the opposite of everything he's been taught. The opposite of what a princess should act like.
"Aria is something else entirely. Stunning, yesâbut not because of perfection. Because of fire. Because of defiance. Because she glares when she should simper, laughs when she should bow, hides dirt on her cheek like itâs a badge of honor."
Everything he shouldn't want, yet she sets him aflame with her loose tongue, sharp wit and even sharper mind.
âWell, if weâre being honest, Iâm equal parts sincere as I am crazy, foul-mouthed, and completely improper.â
But when he discovers her true identity, he has to decide: is she really what's best for his kingdom?
âFucking damn itâuseless pile of pages, Fenric can shove his dancing lessons up his arse, and every noble who thinks posture makes a queen can all drown in their own wine.â
I love the relationship progression. The banter. Fenric and Zephyr's friendship. Seraphine and Hadrian's quiet rooting for her. Their relationship with Zephyr. And I love how Jax was a surrogate brother for Aria, she really needed that. The ending though đ€đ»
âGods, Aria. Do you have any idea how badly I want you? How it feels to sit across from you at that table and act like youâre just another name, another pawn in this charade?â Her throat works, but no words come. âI want you,â I press on, each syllable heavier, truer, than the last. âEvery part of you. The fire. The sharp tongue. Even the pieces you think donât belong here.
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