Remember how I nitpicked the first book (not really, though. I gave it four and a half stars) and said, like some kind of literary snob, like some kind of deconstructed-spaghetti-bolognese-eating hipster, that I was "saving" my 5-star rating? This is what I was saving it for. 
 This book is probably one of the better books I've ever read, in that it's perfectly paced and beautifully written, tightly constructed and effortless in its handling of its themes: the games people play on battlefields, what winning a war is really worth, how war strips away our humanity. I remember recently bitching about the way war was handled in that book, the one I need to stop talking about because you're all probably sick of hearing about it but this one grabs it by the throat and deals blows. It's not afraid to be real and brutal and I can say, writing this review after reading Kings Rising, that it takes those themes forward and makes them mean something. It's all about the choices people make and the futility of jealousy and clinging to hatred, and the way that adults are shaped by the trauma of their youth. 
 Just, holy shit guys. This series is majestic. The world building, the dialogue, the character development, the strings of the plot that all knot seamlessly together at the end - it's all so satisfying. It's all so real. I loved it. I still love it. I'm still thinking about it, long after I've finished it. I want to go back in time and read this series all over again for the first time, because I miss those feelings. But this is probably one of those series that can be reread and enjoyed, because there are so many small hints and sly backhands and excellent scraps of dialogue that perhaps fly over your head the first time around, but that you catch on the second run. It's clever that way. 
 These are the kind of books I want to write. C. S. Pacat, you're a fucking genius.