Instead of showing the reader how Oona and Kitlyn individually see their world, it feels like Cox is writing in third-person from his own perspective instead, and using sections like this as a way to tell the reader what he thinks of his characters and world (and by extension, how he thinks his readers should think of his characters and world).

All of these are honestly great points. I just known I'm done with the sameiness of both of these girls' perspectives. I would expect star-crossed lovers to be similar in some ways, but not to have the SAME internal voice.

From what we've seen in this book so far, I'd expect Evermoor to be a tribal-esque society run by a council of woodsy swamp witches or something. But that would've actually been intersting and fun to see (even if Cox would likely write it badly).

Jesus Christ that would have been really interesting! I was hyped to see that when I first read this book! But what's actually going to happen is that, even though it's going to generate a LOT of questions, Cox is going to drop basically everything that's been established about Evermoor except the fact they're at war with Lucernia, their capital is Ivendar, and King Lanas Volduin is the ruler. Oh, and they're better at everything than Lucernia is.

Which sucks! I wanted to see the folksy swamp witch council! I wanted this to be an asymmetric matchup between two radically different cultures! Instead Evermoor is basically Lucernia but larger, with more and better magic, and obvious direct intervention from their divinties.

If the wagon is this hot, why couldn't Cox have just written her as being soaked in sweat instead and spared us from this gross, borderline-fetishy focus on his characters' saliva???

Because then he couldn't have written about the saliva of 16 year old girls! Stop thinking with your big head, ElfBy! But really. This focus is just. I don't like what Cox focuses on in these chapters.

I feel like Cox probably could've dispensed with the gags entirely and just let Oona talk normally at this point, though, since it seems like Berian's threats here would be a more than adequate deterrent against screaming for help.

I really think keeping Oona and Kitlyn gagged lets this chapter down so much. This is our first non-combat interaction with folks from Evermoor. I would love ANY conversation with Berian, Marr, Dahn, Lanak, Prince Ralan, and so on. It'd also let our heroines display non-violent skills, such as trying to make friends and stuff. Also our gals having the ability to point the finger at the other and say "She's the True Princess" in exchange for being let go would make the fact they don't actually meaningful.

He's used enough other questionable similes for me to tentatively give him the benefit of the doubt here, but I'm still side-eyeing him pretty hard.

Honestly he uses questionable similes that can be read as pornographic pretty frequently. Frequently enough that my personal doubt is running out, but I suppose the true test will be if this is still the case in book 2. As far as the scene itself goes, I feel like I half remember Kitlyn having exactly ONE moment where she thinks about this being done to her. One. And I'm not even sure that's real at this point the book is so boring.

Animal cruelty is deeply upsetting to me, and I hate when authors just casually throw it in like this out of ignorance.

YEAH. I'd shut up if it was established that these are not actually horses, but magical constructs that look like horses but there's nothing like that in this setting so.

That's motivation enough for Oona and Kitlyn not to make any escape attempts. What kind of garbage kidnappers are these people?

If I wanted to play Devil's AdvoCAT, I would say that maybe they believe that binding the Heir of Lucernia's hands and gagging her might stop her from killing them all with magic. Except I can't do that, because next chapter will establish that tying someone up (And by extension, gagging them) does not impact their magic or their ability to use it in any way. In fact, this chapter establishes that with both Kitlyn and Oona using their magic. Next chapter does establish a way to stop magic, and I imagine that should have been a supply that the non-magical Prince Ralen should have been fucking carrying with him (Maybe as a component of his armor?)

So yeah. Cox wrote them being trussed up like this just because he wanted to, because it doesn't make sense in setting however you look at it.

I get that they can't talk and are only capable of very limited body language in this situation, but a better solution to that problem would've been to remove the needless gags and foot bindings to that Kitlyn and Oona can move and verbally communicate.

PREACH sibling.

It seems like a really great way to stab/cut yourself to me (and Kitlyn actually doing that while freeing herself would've added a nice touch of realism here).

The text says that Kitlyn stabbed the dagger into the wagon, then turned around and rubbed the rope between her wrists against the cutting edge.

This is implausible for numerous reasons.

1: How did Kitlyn get the combination of force and control to actually stab the dagger into the wood such that it stayed?
2: It is NOT easy to maneuver in any way with your hands tied behind your back and your feet tied together, which I know from personal experience. Rotating yourself, keeping yourself upright, and rubbing your wrists against a blade? Very difficult.
3: She should definitely have cut herself doing this if she could do it at all.

A better way to have done it would have been to have Kitlyn get it with her toes, then drop it on the floor where Oona scrabbles to pick it up and just barely, with some cuts, manage to free Kitlyn's hands.

This fight scene should've just ended with her falling out of the wagon and rolling off the bridge and into the churning deep, because that's about all the movement you'd expect her to be able to manage at this point.

Kitlyn's next chapter opens with her being healed by a mysterious wise woman type character. You really could have had Lanek burn a hole through her body such that everyone assumes she's dead, and then they dump her body in the Churning Deep. If you were going to do that you need to keep Lanek around as a character tho so he can panic when Kitlyn seemingly returns from the dead.

The guy definitely had it coming, but Oona should absolutely have some deaths on her hands by now, and I'm tired of Cox's fight scenes operating on cartoon physics.

Frankly, same. It hurts the verisimilitude of this world quite badly to write so viscerally about pain and literal shit and then just have Oona not have killed anyone so far. Lanek should be dead. Some of those bandits from earlier should probably be dead as well. Honestly, Oona's first kill being Lanek - unwitting and in direct defense of Kitlyn - would go a ways to addressing how weirdly calm Oona is at killing ppl in about six chapters' time or so. Because she would have killed already, and therefore would have the opportunity to reconcile herself with the concept.

This is a feeling Cox would absolutely have experienced at some point in his life, and there's no excuse for him overlooking that detail.

YEAH. It's the same shit that happened with Nasuada sleeping on a stone slab.

I like this little addition! It's better written than anything we've seen in this book so far, and I'm already more invested in the fisherwoman than Oona and Kitlyn.

I think for now my style is to write a little addition at the end of each spork segment. I'm considering writing a little side story as the chapters continue, but we'll see. I think I want to use the space to discuss shit that happens in the chapter.

I put a bit of effort in characterization and stuff lol. I wanted the fisherwoman to be the kind of person who takes action, values tradition while acknowledging the benefits of change, and believes the best of people but who also hasn't really encountered a transphobic person before. The girl in the water is Kitlyn, and I think if I were to spin this out into a story I'd portray the fisherwoman's decision here as not the right one to make, but such things are what stories are made of.