I’d like to extend my gratitude to NetGalley and Bedford Square Publishers for granting me the opportunity to read this book ahead of its release in exchange for an honest review. 

This gripping tale introduces us to Kit Skevy, an orphan navigating the gritty underbelly of Tudor England. Raised in London’s shadowy, dangerous streets, Kit’s life as a young adult revolves around being an underground brawler for a ruthless gang lord. But Kit harbors a dark secret—he cannot feel pain. Mariner Elgin, another cog in the gang’s machine, is a cutpurse and a Spanish outcast. Fierce, sharp-witted, and drawn to powerful women, she acts as a protective, albeit sharp-tongued, older sister to Kit. Together, they embark on a perilous journey in search of freedom, a journey that is as harrowing as it is transformative. 

Found-family tropes like this one always resonate with me, and this story was no exception. There’s something deeply satisfying about strangers becoming as close as family through shared struggles and mutual care. Kit and Mariner’s sibling-like bond is beautifully crafted. Hinds captures the messy, raw reality of sibling relationships—the fights that sting, the unkind words that linger, and ultimately, the reconciliation that underscores their deep connection. Their journey back to each other after a particularly bitter conflict felt both genuine and heartfelt. 

What really stood out was the depth of the characterisation. By delving into Kit and Mariner’s inner thoughts, Hinds made their decisions—flawed as they sometimes were—completely understandable. Knowing their backstories, I found it impossible to hate them for their mistakes. In fact, their imperfections made them even more compelling. 

Although the novel takes some liberties with historical accuracy, it paints a vivid picture of Tudor England. For readers unfamiliar with the era, it offers a glimpse into the harsh realities of life under the Tudor monarchs’ rule, with enough grit to keep the setting believable and engaging. 

The diversity in this story was a welcome surprise. The characters’ queerness felt authentic and well-integrated into the narrative, and Kit being intersex was a refreshing addition. It’s rare to find such representation in historical fiction, and it added an extra layer of complexity to the story that I greatly appreciated. 

However, the villains were a letdown. Without spoiling anything, their motivations felt flat and predictable—little more than the stereotypical “I’m evil because I’m the bad guy” trope. This lack of depth created some frustrating plot holes that were patched over with flimsy resolutions, the narrative equivalent of using a bandage to seal a crack in a dam. Their convenient appearances and exaggerated personas detracted from the otherwise nuanced storytelling. 

Despite its flaws, this book offered an engaging, heartfelt journey, rich in character development and layered relationships. Fans of found-family dynamics, diverse representation, and historical fiction will find much to enjoy here.