I will preface this review by saying that no matter how much I tempered my expectations for this novel, Kushiel’s Legacy was formative for me as a person - particularly protagonist Phèdre, who was one of the first bisexual heroines I read about who had her own agenda, agency, and didn’t exist for the male gaze. To undertake a retelling in such a beloved universe as Kushiel’s Legacy is no small feat, and I commend the attempt. However, Cassiel’s Servant really did not work for me on any level and was, unfortunately, a huge disappointment.

Getting to know more about Cassiline lore and ritual in the beginning of the novel was a welcome addition to the texture of this universe. Also, there were several scenes from Kushiel’s Dart that remained as or more poignant when told from Joscelin’s perspective, which were a delight to read. There were also adjustments to certain ableist language used previously in the series that I appreciated.

The first and most glaring issue with this retelling in my eyes is that it is STILL Phèdre’s story, even from Joscelin’s point of view. Not everyone can have main character energy, but the main character of a book should absolutely have it, and Joscelin just… does not in this novel. As a result, a large portion of the novel reads more like a Wikipedia summary of Kushiel’s Dart rather than as a unique, innovative retelling from a fresh perspective. The reader, much like Joscelin, is just sort of along for the ride - which does not make for an entertaining or engaging read.

Structurally, Joscelin and Phèdre are in close proximity for almost the entirety of Kushiel’s Dart. He is, after all, her bodyguard charged not to leave her side. What this means is that there are few opportunities to fulsomely dive into who Joscelin is and what he experiences independently of Phèdre and still adhere to the canon events of a novel written 20 years ago. Aside from the notes on his upbringing in the Cassiline Brotherhood, very little new perspective was added.

Normally, I try not to compare the works of authors to each other, but when an author writes a re-telling, they are inherently inviting conversation with and comparison to the source material. What compelled me about the initial trilogy in addition to Phèdre’s je ne sais quoi was the sex-positive, kink-positive, queernorm universe. Sexuality and eroticism are not only accepted in Terre d’Ange, they are sacred.

However, from Joscelin’s point of view, the reader loses all of that magic, only to have it replaced by a very generic, sexist dude with a sword fantasy story. And no offense, but if I wanted to read one of those, I have thousands to pick from. While I understand Joscelin grew up in a repressed, celibate environment (and that in fact is one of the draws of his romance with Phèdre for many readers), I was left confused by the complete tonal shift. He is still D’Angeline and therefore should still hold some of those values, but his external and internal monologues are full of sex-negative, judgmental, misogynistic, and possessive commentary, which undermined what little appeal I was getting from the novel.

Make no mistake: I still fully recommend the original Kushiel’s Legacy trilogy and am excited for the traction this novel and the paperback re-releases may bring to it. With the stratospheric rise in appreciation for “spicy” fantasy romance lately, a trilogy with a bisexual submissive masochist spy as a protagonist seems like it would do quite well. But I cannot in good faith recommend Cassiel’s Servant.

Thank you to Tor Books and NetGalley for an advance review copy. All opinions are my own.