The Prisoner's Throne

“Oak knows it’s ridiculous, and yet he can’t help feeling as though they have an understanding of each other, one that transcends this admittedly not-great moment. She will be angry when he talks with her, of course. He deserves her anger.”

Throughout this chapter, Oak’s thoughts are consumed by his desire to explain himself to Wren, not only to escape his physical imprisonment but also to address the emotional imprisonment caused by his past betrayal of her. Oak’s hope of reconciliation is notable, as he interprets even his captivity as a sign that she might still care for him. However, his acknowledgment that he “deserves her anger” shows that he isn’t deluded; he is painfully aware of his past actions. His desire to make amends reflects The Consequences of Betrayal and the Quest for Redemption.

“As his calves strike the frozen floor, he understands, in a way that he never has before, Wren’s horror of the bridle. Jude’s need for control. He has never known this kind of helplessness.”

Up to this point, Oak has always operated with a certain level of autonomy, whether as a charming manipulator or a clever strategist. Here, the bridle causes his body to respond to Wren’s commands against his will. He begins to grasp her trauma, as well as that of his mortal sister, in a way he never could when he only heard about their past experiences with the bridle or with the Folk’s magic.

“Perhaps, Oak thinks, perhaps he can get himself hurt so badly the questioning can’t continue. It’s a terrible plan, but no other idea presents itself. He can hardly smile at Valen as he did at Fernwaif and have that be enough to persuade him to let Oak leave the dungeon.”

Oak has no weapons and no allies, and he continues to have limited control over his body due to the bridle’s magic. His only resource is his wit, which he tries to use to manipulate his captors—but even this tactic falters when faced with Valen’s paranoia and ruthlessness. It also illustrates how Oak, while adaptable, resorts to risky and often self-destructive plans.

“You’re going to die like her. And like me. Murdered by your own lover.”

Locke, who embodied deceit and self-serving trickery in life, represents the darker side of Oak’s nature—the part of him that wields charm and manipulation to achieve his goals. By telling Oak that he is destined to die like their mother and Locke himself, Locke embodies Oak’s fear that he is trapped in the same cycle of doomed relationships and violent endings. The warning about love leading to his destruction reflects the precarious nature of his current relationship with Wren.

“You think you know Suren, but you do not. Her heart is that of my dead daughter. She was born to be the ruin of your kin.”

Bogdana frames Wren less as a person than a weapon to be used on Oak’s family as part of her quest for vengeance. She also intends to place doubts in Oak’s mind about how well he understands Wren. The quote summarizes the conflict between them about who and what Wren is, and which of them is right about her true nature. The reference to the heart invokes one of the novel’s key symbols, Mellith’s heart.

“That girl you knew. Inside her was always this great rage, this emptiness. And now it’s all I am.”

Wren’s statement can be read as a reflection of her struggle to reconcile her identity with her past. As a former prisoner and survivor of the Court of Teeth’s cruelty, she has internalized a sense of emptiness born from trauma. The reference to rage as her defining emotion hints at how she channels her pain into the ruthless persona she now projects. However, the very act of revealing this vulnerability to Oak suggests that she has not fully succumbed to the emptiness she describes. Despite her attempts to keep him at a distance, she is still willing to let him see a part of her that remains unguarded.

“You need to turn off the part of you that’s thinking. Guilt. Shame. The desire to make people like you. Whatever is getting in your way, you need to excise it. Cut it out of your heart. From the time your sword leaves your sheath, put all that aside and strike!”

Madoc’s advice to Oak reflects the harsh worldview he holds, one where survival depends on shedding emotions and empathy in favor of ruthless efficiency, forged in years of war and political maneuvering. Oak struggles to adopt this mindset not because he lacks the skill but because he fears what it might make him. Just as his gancanagh charm turns him into someone else to manipulate others, the state of mind Madoc demands from him to fight effectively comes at the cost of becoming something else, reflecting The Challenge of Family Expectations.

“I can still fix things. That’s what he tells himself over and over. He has a plan, and it might be mad and desperate and even a little presumptuous, but it can work.”

The quote speaks to Oak’s nature as someone who relies on quick thinking and audacity. Raised in the shadow of both a ruthless general and a cunning High Queen, Oak has learned that bold, unexpected moves can be as effective as brute strength. His willingness to take risks, even when the odds are against him, is a defining trait that sets him apart from other characters in the story. However, it also shows his inexperience: While he may have the courage to act, he doesn’t always fully understand the potential consequences of his actions.

“You do not love because people deserve it—nor would I want to be loved because I was the most deserving of some list of candidates. I want to be loved for my worst self as well as my best.”

When questioned by Hyacinthe on why Tiernan still loves him, the latter responds with this quote, which summarizes the book’s stance on romantic love and The Exploration of Identity and Self-Discovery. He rejects the idea that love is something earned or awarded based on merit. Instead, true love has to acknowledge the entirety of a person, both their strengths and their flaws. Even when they have done wrong, they are not undeserving of connection.

“He stopped a war—or at least paused one. And yet, he is aware that bringing Wren into the heart of Elfhame puts the people there—people he loves—at risk.”

By orchestrating the false engagement and persuading Wren to accompany him to Elfhame, Oak temporarily averted a battle. However, his solution is far from perfect as it merely postpones the conflict while also introducing new risks. Oak wants to protect his loved ones, including Jude, Cardan, and even Wren, but every action he takes seems to carry unintended consequences.

“‘Have you ever wondered if anyone truly loved you?’ she asks in that same fond, unfocused voice.”

Wren’s question cuts to the heart of Oak’s deepest insecurity: whether the love and loyalty he receives from those around him are genuine or the result of his innate ability to charm and manipulate others. While her words are not intended to be cruel, they strike a nerve. He has spent much of his life cultivating a carefree, charming persona, masking pain and vulnerability behind a smile due to The Challenge of Family Expectations. This moment exposes the cracks in that façade.

“You can make people see you the way they want to see you. This seems harmless, but it can be dangerous to become everything a person wants. The embodiment of all their desires. And more dangerous for you to twist yourself into shapes others choose for you.”

Oriana’s warning is not only about Oak’s inherent gancanagh charm, which allows him to effortlessly manipulate others’ desires but also about the personal cost of that power. While Oak avoided using the power itself, he did not avoid the mentality that came with it. He has always been aware of how others perceive him—charming, easygoing, and carefree—and uses those perceptions to cope with The Challenge of Family Expectations while shutting his real self away. In doing so, he becomes the very thing Oriana warned him against.

“She looks up at him, as remote and impenetrable as the Citadel itself. Oak feels a little awed by her and then angry on her behalf. He hates that she must wear a mask, no matter how much it costs her, no matter what she’s been through.”

Like the fortress she rules, Wren has built a formidable exterior to protect herself from the dangers and betrayals she has endured. Oak’s reaction is twofold. His awe stems from admiration for Wren’s resilience and the grace with which she navigates difficult situations. At the same time, he resents that survival in Faerie requires constant performance, so she is forced to maintain this façade even when physically and mentally suffering. Oak has long hidden behind a mask of charm and recklessness, but unlike him, Wren’s mask is born of necessity rather than choice. She doesn’t wear it to manipulate, but to shield herself.

“Feel as sorry for her as you like. Desire her if you must. But do not marry her. I will not have you stolen from us again.”

Oriana’s fear stems from her experiences of raising Oak under constant threat: First from the royal family, then from Madoc’s enemies. Here, Oriana is not merely objecting to Wren as a person, but to what she symbolizes: Oak stepping further into the dangerous political world of Faerie, beyond her ability to protect him. This mentality extends not just to Oriana, but the entirety of Oak’s family. On some level, they all still see him as a young child in need of their protection.

“‘You fall in love with the ease of someone slipping into a bath,’ she tells him. ‘And I imagine you extricate yourself with somewhat more drama, but no less ease.’”

Wren describes Oak as someone who navigates romantic entanglements unburdened by emotions. By likening his ability to fall in love to “slipping into a bath,” she suggests that for him, love is casual, transient, and even trivial. Wren’s words reveal not only her skepticism toward Oak’s declaration of love but also won her guardedness, as she has difficulty trusting him due to her experiences with betrayal and manipulation.

“‘But…don’t you want revenge?’ she asks, her voice even softer than before.

‘A little,’ he admits finally. ‘I wouldn’t mind if there was some dramatic reversal where you pined while I remained aloof.’”

Wren’s phrasing of asking not whether he feels hurt by her rejection of him, but whether he desires “revenge,” is telling, invoking The Consequences of Betrayal and the Quest for Redemption. In the world of Faerie, love and vengeance are often intertwined, and Wren anticipates that Oak, like so many in their realm, might seek to balance emotional wounds with calculated retaliation. Oak’s response, while lighthearted on the surface, reveals his underlying hurt over her continued rejection of him. The Folk, while they can twist the truth, cannot outright lie.

“I am a chasm that will never be full. I am hunger. I am need. I cannot be sated. If you try, I will swallow you up. I will take all of you and want more. I will use you. I will drain you until you are nothing more than a husk.”

As someone burdened with a warped and painful form of magic, as well as being perceived as a monster both in the mortal world and the Faerie realm, Wren has learned to equate her desires with danger. Her words reveal that she sees love not as a comforting or stabilizing force but as something perilous. It is a hunger that can never be satisfied without causing harm, and she fears harming Oak. Here, she tries to warn him against continuing to pursue her. However, he, too, is flawed and dangerous.

“That’s what his family does. Ignores everything uncomfortable. Talks around betrayals and murders. Papers over bloodstains and duels. Brushes all the bones under the rug.”

Oak finally calls out the complex and often toxic dynamics within his family and The Challenge of Family Expectations that have been building not only within this novel, or even The Stolen Heir duology, but in The Folk of the Air trilogy as well. His frustration isn’t only about the surface-level issue of concealment but about a pattern of avoidance that characterizes the entire family. They have learned to survive in a world of political machinations and violence by suppressing or ignoring difficult truths. For much of the story, Oak has carried the weight of his family’s expectations, feeling obligated to repay their sacrifices. Now, for the first time, he allows himself to feel anger rather than gratitude.

“You wanted them to know you, his mind supplies unhelpfully.”

The irony of this moment is that Oak, who has spent his life playing roles to please others or outwit enemies, allowed himself to be vulnerable by showing his ambition and skill. In a family of manipulators and warriors, where vulnerability is masked by charm or ruthlessness, Oak hoped that by revealing his true self, he could finally be understood. He no longer wants to manipulate his family into believing he is harmless, and now they see him as a potential threat.

“He’s become the fool he’s spent so long pretending to be. If he hadn’t fallen in love, then no one would be in danger.”

Throughout his life, Oak carefully crafted an image of himself as a charming, carefree prince to be underestimated. Now, he realizes that his feelings for Wren have clouded his judgment and made him ignorant of the dangers around him. In a court where power and survival often depend on outmaneuvering others, Oak’s love for Wren wasn’t just a personal risk. Instead, it gave Randalin and Bogdana the means to orchestrate a coup against his family.

 “At least it will be you […] But you better hurry up. Waiting is the worst part.”

This quote is a reflection of Wren’s emotional state and the weight of her situation as she faces The Consequences of Betrayal and the Quest for Redemption. She is resigned to Oak potentially killing her and even prefers it to be at the hands of someone she once trusted and perhaps still loves. She has spent most of her life being forced to act against her will and is now deteriorating because of it on a physical, mental, and moral level. Oak killing her, in her eyes, wouldn’t be another betrayal; it would be a mercy.

“You keep telling me that others will do to me what you have already done. I know what it is to want something so much that you would rather have the shadow of it than nothing, even if that means you will never have the real thing. And love is not that.”

Throughout the novel, Wren has been manipulated by Bogdana, who exploits her deepest fears and desires to maintain dominance over her. Her realization that what Bogdana offered was a distorted, hollow version of love marks her emotional and moral liberation from the hag’s influence, forming an important moment in her experience of The Exploration of Identity and Self-Discovery. After this, her willingness to confront the storm, even knowing it may destroy her, is a direct counterpoint to Bogdana’s type of love: True love demands selflessness, not control.

“Until I met you, I didn’t understand to feel loved, one has to feel known. And that, outside of my family, I had never really loved because I hadn’t bothered to know the other person. But I know you. And you have to come back to me, Wren, because no one gets us but us.”

Up until this moment, Oak has largely viewed love as something transactional or superficial, not unlike the courtly intrigue that defines much of life in Faerie. His confession here marks a departure from that perspective, as he acknowledges that true love requires vulnerability and understanding. By admitting that Wren is the only person who truly knows him, Oak shows that their relationship is built on authenticity in a world where deception reigns supreme.