Unlike that one, however, this one is hard to be invested in. The romance here is seemingly a replication of the Alina/Darkling romance from Bardugo’s Grisha trilogy. The boy/monster remains an enigma and his main reason for existing seems to be so Nadya can fall in love with him, while flip flopping on the question of whether she can trust him. Nadya’s main feature is her hatred of the enemy country mainly because they are the enemy, as well as “heretics.” The prince, Serefin, is more compelling, but readers don’t get much from him except that he likes to get drunk and isn’t as terrible as his tyrant father. However, the characterization is regrettably weak. These three should spark the interest of readers with their unique perspectives on life and religion, especially when their lives collide. It focuses on Nadya, a girl raised in a monastery to be the ultimate weapon to end her country’s war with a neighboring nation, as well as on the prince of that enemy country, and a boy whose power is monstrous yet compelling. The premise of Wicked Saints is intriguing. Wicked Saints is one of those books that made me deeply grateful the experience of reading it was finally over. After too many attempts to shock me, however, the book started to get more laughable than dramatic. Unfortunately, however, the book never reaches the same level of writing or introspection of Bardugo’s work, instead relying on cheap thrills and plot twists to keep readings hooked. Wicked Saints is undeniably an attempt to replicate the success of Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse, with its Russian-inspired setting, its endless war, its romance with a monster, and its musings on the true nature of religion and sainthood.
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