Nightingale by E.D. Lee

 

A Story of War, Power, and Change

What happens when a generation bred for war begins to question its purpose? In Nightingale, E.D. Lee crafts a world where heirs are not just born to rule but are raised as weapons—trained to fight, to kill, and to outlive their own siblings in a brutal war of succession. But what if they don’t want to play the game? What if they seek something more?

We follow Vrea, princess of Niroula, who was raised to serve as her queen’s weapon. After a failed assassination attempt on the enemy heir, Rian, she spends three years in captivity before making a daring escape. But that escape comes at a cost, setting events into motion that neither she nor her enemies could have predicted.

A World Where Survival is Everything

The world-building in Nightingale is immersive and brutal. Unlike many fantasy novels, there is no magic, no dragons, no divine intervention—only war. Assassinations, betrayals, and political maneuvering shape every moment. No one is truly safe, and trust is a rare commodity. Both sides breed heirs as weapons, yet siblings are pitted against each other in a battle for dominance. Even within their own kingdoms, survival depends on eliminating rivals.

Some characters accept this as the natural order, but the three main characters—Vrea, Rian, and Castil—stand apart. They were born into this war, but that doesn’t mean they want it.

• Castil, known as the White Knight, has no interest in the throne but will kill his siblings if he believes they will be cruel rulers. He supports Rian, believing he will be a just king.
• Rian, the Golden Heir, has spent his life avoiding war and killing whenever possible. His plan to return Vrea to her homeland isn’t just an act of mercy—it’s a calculated move to secure an audience with the enemy queen and push for peace. He doesn’t want to rule, but he sees no way out.
• Vrea is more complicated. She wants the throne, and she wants the war to end, but she isn’t actively working toward stopping it. Her perspective begins to shift when she sees how the enemy treats prisoners, in stark contrast to her own people. But what will she choose when the time comes?

Characters Defined by Upbringing

One of the book’s strengths is how well-developed the characters are. We don’t just hear about their upbringing—we see it in every interaction. The lack of affection between siblings, the unspoken expectation that they must eliminate each other to secure power, and the constant vigilance for betrayal are deeply ingrained in them. Even among the main characters, trust is a struggle.

The enemies-to-lovers dynamic between Vrea and Rian is a highlight. The story doesn’t gloss over their past—while we don’t see every moment of their captivity together, we understand the deep-seated hatred, the forced proximity, and the slow shift toward something neither of them can fully name. Their relationship remains tense and wary, even after intimacy is introduced. The romance is slow-burn, well-integrated into the story, and never feels forced.

Castil, on the other hand, remains in the background for much of the book, but his role is quietly significant. He was the one who fought to spare Vrea’s life, and for three years, he has paid a price for it—though we don’t yet know exactly how or why. He kills one of his own brothers for being involved in her capture, subtly defends her against his own family, and seems to care for her in ways he hasn’t admitted, even to himself. There’s a hint of a love triangle, but whether that will fully develop—or take another route—is yet to be seen.

An Immersive and Tense Atmosphere

The writing in Nightingale is richly atmospheric. The descriptions don’t just paint a picture of the world but evoke emotions—fear, distrust, longing. Every location feels tangible, and the tone of each scene shifts depending on the characters’ circumstances, making it an immersive reading experience.

The pacing is deliberate, unfolding over a couple of months. The slow build allows the political tensions, relationships, and world-building to develop naturally. However, this also means the story doesn’t rush toward major events. Even at the end, things are still progressing at a careful pace.

An Abrupt but Impactful Ending

The book ends on a cliffhanger—not in what happens, but in how suddenly it occurs. Given the measured pacing, I expected more build-up to the climax, but instead, it arrives abruptly. While this is somewhat jarring, it also feels true to the story’s nature: in war, things don’t always happen on a schedule.

More than anything, Nightingale is a book about characters caught in a war they didn’t start, trying to shape their own futures despite the expectations placed upon them. And with the foundation laid in this first installment, I can’t wait to see where the story goes next.