Narrated by Raphael Corkhill

Everina Maxwell’s Winter’s Orbit – which was originally published on AO3 as Course of Honour – combines a murder mystery with intergalactic politics and a side-order of romance in which (according to Tor.com’s publishing announcement) a scandal-prone prince and a dutiful scholar, who are forced into a political marriage, try to prevent an interplanetary war. There are a few pacing issues, the world-building could have been stronger, and while the romance is sort of a slow burn (more ‘slow’ than ‘burn’), it often felt secondary to the plot and was bogged down in misunderstandings until well into the second half of the book. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the listen – I did – but I had to adjust my expectations in respect of the romance downward a bit.

When the story begins, Prince Kiem of Iskat is informed that he is to be married to Count Jainan of Thea, one of the smaller, newer planets in the Iskat Empire. Kiem is surprised to say the least – and concerned for Jainan, whose partner Taam (who was Kiem’s cousin) died in an accident just a month earlier. The hasty marriage is necessary in order to ensure the ratification of an important treaty, the signing of which will take place on Thea in just under a month, and in the words of the Emperor (Kiem’s grandmother) “There must be a representative couple in place… with no visible concerns, smiling at the cameras.”

Jainan and Kiem have never met before, but Jainan, an experienced diplomat, is well aware of the political reasons for the marriage and prepared to do his duty. It’s clear to the listener straight away that his marriage to Taam was troubled, but he’s tight-lipped and does his absolute best to be as unobtrusive as possible. Kiem reads Jainan’s quiet reticence and his willingness to please as grief, which just makes him feel even more guilty for – as he sees it – forcing the man into another political alliance.

There’s a definite ‘opposites attract’ vibe going on here. Kiem is very much a people person; he isn’t all that politically savvy and is known mostly for partying, but he’s kind and charming and empathetic, the sort of person who can walk into a room of strangers at the beginning of the evening and walk out of a room full of friends at the end of it. By contrast, Jainan is reserved and thoughtful, a bit distant and slightly anxious, always fearful of saying or doing something wrong. They’re instructed to present their marriage to the media as a love match to forestall any grumblings on Thea about weaknesses in their treaty with the Empire, but while Kiem is immediately attracted to Jainan, he believes Jainan to be grieving for Taam and tries hard to put him at ease and make him feel comfortable. But Jainan finds it difficult to believe that Kiem is really as good natured as he seems – and that his insistence that Jainan is free to do as he pleases is not some kind of trap.

With both of them so far off the same page as to be in different books (!), the day comes when they must present themselves to the Resolution (the body that oversees all the alliances and treaties between empires and other Galactic powers) in order to be confirmed as the Iskan and Thean representatives and signatories to the treaty. But things don’t go according to plan:

“The Resolution cannot confirm Iskat and Thea are entering into the treaty voluntarily when the designated Iskat representative was murdered last month.”

Murder?! It’s the first Kiem has heard of it, or that Jainan was refused access to the details of the investigation into Taam’s death – but his protests fall on deaf ears. The Resolution refuses to confirm them without further investigation, and if they’re not confirmed there will be no treaty, leaving both Iskat and Thea in very precarious situations, and Kiem and Jainan trying to settle into their new relationship while navigating Galactic politics, investigating a murder… and trying not to get killed themselves.

There are a lot of plates spinning in this one, but even so, it takes quite a while for things to really get going, and the pacing is off, with the first third feeling slow and the last third like a runaway train of set pieces speeding to a rapid conclusion. And while I liked Kiem and Jainan individually and as a couple, their misunderstanding/miscommunication (or lack of communication) goes on for too long and we’re well into the second half before they start to work things out. As I said earlier, it’s obvious right from the start that something is off with Jainan – he’s quiet and reserved and quite clearly afraid of something – but Kiem doesn’t figure it out until well into the second half – which, considering he’s so good at reading a room and connecting with people, makes him seem completely clueless. I’ll give Jainan a bit more leeway, but it still takes him too long to realise that Kiem is nothing like Taam. But once they do work things out, I liked watching them slowly coming to trust and rely on each other.

The secondary cast isn’t massive but there are a couple of standouts –notably Bel, Kiem’s PA and Gairad, a grumpy, feisty student of engineering and Jainan’s distant relative/clan member. I also liked the fluidity of gender and sexuality in this world, where gender is chosen by the individual and signalled through items of clothing and what they’re made of.

British actor Raphael Corkhill is a new-to-me narrator, and he delivers an expressive and engaging performance here. His pacing is fine, his voice is deep and pleasant to listen to and his enunciation is excellent, but on the downside, he doesn’t portray the female characters all that effectively, performing them mostly in the same register as the male ones. He does a better job with the male characters though, differentiating them using a variety of accent, pitch and timbre. When it comes to the two principals, Mr. Corkhill captures Kiem’s youthful optimism, eagerness and tireless good nature really well, using a higher pitch than the tone he adopts for Jaiden, which is lower and darker, his speech slightly more halting. I don’t recall any accents mentioned in the text, but Jaiden and other Theans are given what I can only describe as a kind of Middle Eastern accent – so I assume it was an acting choice. But with his deep, gruff tones, deliberate speech and accent, I did sometimes have to remind myself that Jaiden was only twenty-seven and not fifty-seven!

In the end, I did enjoy Winter’s Orbit, but was left feeling that it had the potential to have been so much more. The romance was a little disappointing and the world-building was lacking, but I liked the storyline, the central characters and the narration, so I’m giving it a low-level recommendation. If you’re looking for something a bit different (without much steam), it might fit the bill.

Note: This story contains scenes (not graphic) of past domestic abuse and torture using mind-altering drugs.