The Tiger’s Daughter Is an Epic Romantic Fantasy Debut

A letter comes for the Phoenix Empress O-Shizuka as she sits alone in her palace. She rejoices to see it is from her dearest, most beloved Barsalai Shefali, who, for reasons we soon learn, is far away. Born only a month apart to mothers who were the closest of comrades, O-Shizuka and Shefali are destined to be together, and in swooping, elegant brushstrokes, Rivera maps out the complicated, fraying world they two women occupy. Shefali’s people, the Qorin of the silver steepes, are reviled by the people of the Hokkaran Empire, of whom O-Shizuka is an imperial member. But for all the posturing in the cities and the steppes, far to the north, beyond the Wall of Flowers, demons are breaking through a wilting barrier to encroach on the human world. These two threads—of human prejudice and other-worldly evil—weave the story together, and finally join in tragedy. But not all is lost—for this is, above all, a love story, monsters be damned.
For all the wonder of the world on display, the characters give this story life. Shefali and O-Shizuka are polar opposites in many ways, and watching Rivera put them through the wringer, and watching them confront their own worst aspects, and celebrate their best, provides the book’s most thrilling moments. Shefali is a peerless fighter, but indecisive, prone to shyness, too easily led by others. O-Shizuka is imperious and spoiled, her skill with a blade matched by confidence that borders on arrogance, but her regard for others never dims. We don’t spend as much time in O-Shizuka’s head, but her actions speak louder than words.
Together, they are a powerful team: Shefali fires arrows from horseback while O-Shizuka meets enemies on the field. And the more they grow together, the more their love for each other blossoms. Yet theirs is not a readily accepted romance, in a world where same sex couples are rare; their initial dalliances are bittersweet, as they must keep their relationship a secret for most of the book. But it is a great love, ringing through Rivera’s clear, musical prose, which is lucious and cuttingly concise by turns.
The story develops slowly, as Rivera builds a world in painstaking detail, focusing on the intricacies of the daily lives of her heroines, but this measured pacing is understandable: this is a story of legends in the making. If we’re going to see become great, we need to see them be ordinary, to fail and falter. The worldbuilding can feel slippery at times; jumping from locale to locale, I was sometimes uncertain where the imagined world began, and where influences from our world ended, perhaps because it is such a rare pleasure to read an epic fantasy so steeped in East Asian lore, myth, and traditions.
The Tiger’s Daughter is a beautiful debut from an author whose delicacy with prose matches as her consideration for her characters. I now feel I know and understand these two women, and following them on their journeys together was an experience to savor. There are more adventures to come for Shefali and O-Shizuka, and I will be following them as far as I’m able.
The Tiger’s Daughter is available October 3.