I haven’t read either of the earlier two books in the Lost Princess series, and unfortunately, this last one doesn’t make me inclined to do so.

Sorcha is the eldest of the “lost princesses” of Beaumontagne. After a revolt, she and her young sisters were separated and hidden away, their whereabouts unknown to even their grandmother. Sorcha ended up in a convent in Scotland, while her betrothed, Prince Rainger of Richarte, was captured and presumed to be dead.

Years later, Prince Rainger has escaped his prison and is on a mission to reclaim his kingdom from the enemy who took it from him. But he’s first been charged by Sorcha’s grandmother to find her remaining granddaughters, return them to safety, and marry the one of his choice.

As it turns out, the other two princesses have already married, so Rainger’s last hope is to return with Sorcha and make her his wife. Remembering her childhood antipathy towards him, he introduces himself to Sorcha as a poor, dumb fisherman named Arnou, with a scarf over one eye a la the Phantom of the Opera. (I have no clue how she never sees through this, but that’s the kind of book this is.) Sorcha is also being pursued by enemies of the crown, but Rainger is there to help her, and so their journey together begins.

Deception isn’t exactly the greatest foundation for building a relationship, but that’s the least of this book’s problems, with the biggest being that the plot is horribly thin and stale. The first portion of the book dealing with their journey back to Beaumontagne is uneven and boring since the challenges they face and the way they overcome them didn’t draw me in. The second portion deals with what occurs once Sorcha and Rainger return to the kingdom and, while it’s a slight improvement simply because it’s less disjointed, it still reads like a watered-down revenge plot I’ve read many a time before.

It might have been easy to feel for Rainger because of his tortured past, but since he spends much of his time deceiving and manipulating Sorcha, it becomes much more difficult. Sorcha, on the other hand, is impossible to keep track of. In the course of the book, Sorcha is seen as cowardly, brave, naïve, sexually adventurous, a responsible princess, a reckless princess who just wants to have a little fun, and so on. Some may call this character development, but as most of these changes happened instantaneously and without much rhyme or reason, I think of it all as incoherent instead.

Not enough of this material is fresh and many of the jokes fall flat. Sorcha ends up in a brothel and is thrilled to be meeting prostitutes, considering herself one of the luckiest people alive. Yes, she may have had a sheltered upbringing, but the extent of her naïveté is just unfunny. Then, after several hours in the presence of the prostitutes, she loses all her sexual inhibitions and happily engages in sexual banter (and more) with Arnou/Rainger. Uh huh.

There is not enough genuine feeling generated between the two to make me care about their relationship. Rainger is determined to make her his for the screamingly unromantic reason that she’s the only unmarried princess left. They didn’t bond as children and don’t really bond as adults either, especially since most of the time Rainger pretends to be dumber than he is, while Sorcha is simply oblivious. I found little real reason for either Rainger or Sorcha to fall in love with the other, and I had fewer reasons to care.

Certainly, it’s difficult to make a book involving royalty realistic, but I’ve seen it done elsewhere. But nothing in this book felt convincing. I never believed a single line describing the culture or customs of Beaumontagne, but even worse, I never believed in these characters and their love. One last note: it is not necessary to have read the earlier books to follow along with this one, but if there was anything enjoyable in those books (and one did earn a good grade from one of my AAR colleagues), I’m afraid I didn’t find it here.