I’m not much of a romantasy reader, so when I saw that a romantasy imprint was releasing a new book with a pretty cover, I didn’t think much of it. But a couple glowing reviews prompted me to take a further look, and an author interview pushing back against the perception of the novel as a romance gave me the final nudge I needed to pick up Shen Tao’s debut novel The Poet Empress.
The Poet Empress opens during a deep famine in a fantasy nation with strong Chinese inspiration. The lead has just buried a sister for lack of food and is desperate to find a way to provide for the younger brother on whose shoulders rest the future of the family. And so she competes to join the ranks of concubines of the Emperor’s violent heir, only to conclude that the danger he poses to the country is far greater than the danger of her family’s hunger. But the only way to stop him requires love.
It’s easy to see how one could glance over that plot summary and expect The Poet Empress to tread familiar romantasy beats. And, even as someone with fairly little experience with the (wildly popular) subgenre, it’s easy to see how The Poet Empress is in conversation with romantasy writ large. To me, it feels very much like an author having read several love stories involving redemptions of violent men and setting out to write a very different story with the same setup. The result is something that feels neither like an example of nor a repudiation of the subgenre, but rather an interrogation of a familiar trope, all within a rags-to-riches tale that echoes a novel like She Who Became the Sun just as much as it does any romantasy comp titles.
While there’s one clear lead, The Poet Empress works in two timelines, as the lead’s attempts to navigate dangerous imperial politics are interspersed with accounts of the heir’s childhood as seen by his tutors or siblings, unveiling the mystery of how such a gentle and precocious child became such a cruel and sadistic man. It’s clear from the setup that both timelines would be traumatic, and the killing hunger in the opening pages is joined by torture, murder, and rape as the story progresses. And yet, the lead being so thoroughly scarred by growing up impoverished in the midst of famine makes the other horrors far less visceral. Her laser-focus on providing food pushes her through even the most horrifying of events, with a tendency to dissociate in a way that keeps her sane as a character and keeps the book as a whole from feeling like so much torture porn.
It makes for a book that’s a much easier read than the subject matter would suggest, with tons of pathos and a fluid prose style that invites the reader to constantly promise themselves “just one more chapter.” The lengths to which the lead will go to aid a starving village are immediately sympathetic, and while proximity to power may muddle the altruistic aims with personal ambition, a character that has already won the reader’s heart tends to keep it. The flashback sequences are similarly engaging, starting with a pair of lovable boys trying to do right by each other and their families and slowly expanding into the disaster that is the story’s main timeline. Just like in the main timeline, the opening attaches the reader to the characters, and each subsequent danger or revelation only heightens the tension. Even in places where the ultimate outcome is known, the preceding details are sufficiently mysterious to keep the reader hooked.
The dramatic tension is only improved by the way The Poet Empress sits between subgenres. Were it a romantasy, I’d have been pretty confident in my ability to predict major plot beats. Were it pitched as more of an epic, I may have only been confident on the broad brushstrokes, but I’d have had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Instead, it takes clear inspiration from both, making it much less beholden to the plot expectations of either in particular. The result was me going into the climax genuinely unsure of how it would resolve. I was treated to an ending that was unexpected and yet also made perfect sense in light of the character development to that point.
I’ve already mentioned that character development as a strength insofar as it generates reader investment, but The Poet Empress also does an excellent job creating believable characters within a fantastical structure with a lot to say on the corrupting influence of power. The lead, the heir, and his older brother all receive significant depth of characterization, and all start sympathetic before being driven toward decisions that their younger selves would not have recognized. There’s a degree to which this owes to the corrupting influence of power, and there are plenty of scenes that emphasize in particular the way that riches and comfort close the rulers’ eyes to the needs of the people. But the main thematic thrust is a bit more subtle, with less focus on having power and more on the actions one must perform to gain and hold it—both in terms of acquiring legal authority and in gaining the trust of the people who uphold the ruler. That’s where The Poet Empress tackles its most difficult subjects and where the novel thematically shines.
The Poet Empress is a debut novel, and there are moments where you can see the roughness. Perhaps most obvious is in the plotting—while there’s plenty of danger and traumatizing events, the progression from one to the other feels a little bit neater than it should, particularly in the back half. The poetry itself isn’t necessarily eye-catching, and we don’t see the politics in too much depth, but given how engaging the characters and story are, that feels like nitpicking. It’s not a perfect book, but it’s excellent.
If you’re looking for a tense and bingeable story that pointedly interrogates the quick redemption arc, The Poet Empress is a fantastic choice. I can’t say how it will hit for romantasy fans, though it plays with familiar enough tropes that I could see the appeal. And there’s certainly a significant list of trigger warnings. But coming from the other side of fantasy, I found it absolutely terrific.
Recommended if you like: rags-to-riches fantasy tales, subversion of the enemies-to-lovers romance.
Can I use it for Bingo? It’s hard mode for Published in 2026 and The Afterlife. It also includes Politics and Feasting Your Eyes and is written by an Author of Color.
Overall rating: 18 of Tar Vol’s 20. Five stars on Goodreads.