Rebel Witch

“She liked Umbria and its capital, Caelis. She liked the architecture and the art, the culture and fashions and food, the absence of anti-witch sentiment. She liked it for a visit or a holiday. But it wasn’t where she belonged. Rune hadn’t realized she’d feel this way when she agreed to marry Alex and leave the New Republic. She didn’t know that in leaving the island behind, she was leaving her heart with it. Could you miss the place where everyone wanted you dead? Rune squeezed the whiskey bottle’s neck. Apparently yes.”

This passage reveals Rune’s internal conflict between safety and belonging. Her conflict represents the complicated, often painful ties people have to places that shape them, even when these places can bring them harm. Rune’s realization that she misses the New Republic, despite its violence, reveals her deep-rooted connection to her home, suggesting that identity is forged as much by struggle as by love.

“The very idea of working for Cressida filled Rune with dizzying self-loathing. But Cressida had saved her life, along with Seraphine’s. Cressida didn’t want her dead, unlike Gideon and everyone else in the New Republic. Most importantly: Cressida wanted to save the witches they’d left behind. Girls who were being exterminated at this very moment. Every week, the names of dead witches made their way to Rune’s ears.”

As this passage reflects, Rune doesn’t support Cressida’s methods or ideologies, but rather is stuck choosing the lesser of two evils. Her self-loathing reflects how survival under oppressive systems often forces alliances that betray people’s values, highlighting the psychological toll of carrying both guilt and responsibility.

“Like Alex, Gideon had also proposed to Rune. Not marriage, exactly, but a partnership. A future together. She fisted her hands. Gideon never really loved you. He loved the girl he thought you were. So it doesn’t matter what he proposed. Gideon could never love a witch. She wasn’t sure what was more upsetting: that Alex had loved her, or that Gideon didn’t.”

Rune’s deepest insecurity is that her identity as a witch makes her inherently unlovable in a world built to hate her. The contrast between Alex’s love and Gideon’s perceived rejection of Rune exposes how survival often means performing a version of oneself palatable to others.

“Gideon remembered her fingers twined through the prince’s. How generous she’d been with her kisses. Staying close to him at all times. Letting him show her off to his friends. She’d never done those things with Gideon. It was a stern reminder of how out of his league she’d always been. How had Gideon ever let himself believe she’d settle for someone like him?”

Gideon’s long-standing insecurity resurfaces here: He fears that he was never worthy of Rune’s love. This fear was rooted not just in their current estrangement but in the emotional damage that Cressida inflicted on him. She conditioned Gideon to see himself as disposable and unworthy, and this dynamic bleeds into how he interprets Rune’s actions toward Soren versus how she previously acted toward him. Rather than recognizing her political manipulation, Gideon views Rune’s closeness with the prince as confirmation of his own inadequacy.

“Gideon couldn’t trust her. Not ever. But once they were on the island, he wouldn’t have to. It wouldn’t even matter if Rune was lying to him. She can’t betray me if I betray her first.”

This quote encapsulates Gideon’s deeply ingrained belief that survival in a world built on betrayal demands preemptive cruelty. This reflects the novel’s thematic concern with Overcoming Distrust: Gideon’s instinct to control the outcome by hurting Rune first ironically reinforces the very cycle of betrayal that keeps them both trapped.

“If Gideon were honest, Rune had always enchanted him. He was fifteen the day he met her and his heart first jumped into his throat. Ever since, he’d spent his time insisting he wasn’t drawn to her, for his brother’s sake, and for the sake of his pride—because someone like him could never deserve someone like Rune. She had said as much herself two months ago, when he exposed her as the Crimson Moth.”

Gideon’s thoughts reveal his long-standing internal conflict between desire and self-loathing, rooted in his belief that Rune is beyond his reach. His guilt (over loving his brother Alex’s intended bride and seeing himself as unworthy) helped shaped his choices and his need to suppress his feelings.

“There’s no point explaining it to him. He’d never believe her. Even if he did, it wouldn’t change anything. She was a witch. Nothing Rune did could ever change his mind; her inherent, unalterable essence revolted him.”

Rune has internalized societal hatred toward witches and believes that no amount of love or sacrifice can overcome Gideon’s ingrained prejudice. Her thoughts in this moment illustrate the tragic tension in their romance: fear that love can’t transcend societal identity.

“It was then that Rune realized she was in unfamiliar territory. Give her a ballroom, an evening gown, and a four-piece band playing a waltz, and Rune knew exactly who she was and how she was supposed to behave. But here, on the lower deck of a ship, with people who broke china for fun and whistled at girls they found pretty…Rune was at a loss.”

This passage conveys Rune’s ongoing struggle with identity, highlighting how her confidence is rooted in the roles society assigned to her: aristocrat, socialite, pawn. Stripped of these familiar labels, Rune confronts the hollowness of those identities and questions her underlying identity.

“In my opinion, the revolution went too far. Something needed to change—don’t get me wrong. No one should cower beneath their government’s boots. But the Republic has become what it meant to correct: a nation ruled by fear. It’s the Reign of Witches without the witches.”

Reflecting The Lack of Victors in Cycles of Hatred as a theme, Rune’s thoughts illustrate how revolutions driven by vengeance risk replicating the very oppression they seek to destroy. The Republic, created to free its people from tyranny, ultimately becomes a mirror of the Reign of Witches, proving that when fear governs, it breeds only more violence and cruelty, regardless of who holds power.

“Gideon had been reluctant to leave her with that boy—whose hungry look betrayed him, even if Rune was determined not to see it. But he needed to know if Abbie was Harrow’s spy. Even if she wasn’t, she might know who was. The only way to find out was to engage her. He needed to be careful, though. If Abbie was a New Republic spy, and there were witch sympathizers among them—Ash had all but admitted to being one earlier—Gideon didn’t want to get her reported.”

This passage highlights Gideon’s internal conflict between his protective instincts toward Rune and his calculated need to maintain his own cover. In addition, the scene reinforces the novel’s exploration of blurred moral lines: Even caring for someone becomes secondary to survival and strategic manipulation in a world that requires betrayal.

“I was just a girl to Alex […] Someone to be loved and cherished and fought for. That’s why I said yes to him. […] I’m not a girl to you, am I? I’m a witch, and always will be. Something to be hated and hunted down. Not cherished or protected. Not loved.”

Rune’s internalized belief that her identity as a witch makes her unlovable and irredeemable reinforces The Critical Role of Identity as a theme. She contrasts Alex’s idealized love with Gideon’s perceived hatred, revealing how deeply her sense of self links to how others see her.

“PAIN exploded inside him. Hot and sharp and excruciating. Starting in his scar, it ricocheted outward like a detonated bomb. Gideon gasped for air. I need to ensure you’re mine. Cressida’s voice echoed, like a nightmare shattering a dream. Mine alone.”

Cressida’s curse both physically manifests control and symbolizes violation of Gideon’s autonomy. The pain that his desire for Rune triggers represents Cressida’s need to possess and punish, highlighting her selfish pride.

“It wasn’t Rune pushed up against the wall beneath his palms; it was Cressida. Cressida’s lips swollen from his kisses; Cressida’s hair a mess from his hands. He recoiled, yanking himself away from her. His heart pounded in his throat as he shuddered. He nearly reached for the gun tucked into his belt but stopped himself just in time. Because the moment he severed contact, the pain receded, and with it, the girl who’d abused him. He blinked, and it was Rune standing before him again, her illusion entirely gone.”

The branding curse forces Gideon to physically and psychologically associate Rune with his abuser, weaponizing his desire against him. In addition, the moment foreshadows Rune’s connection to the Rosebloods, though neither of them is yet aware of it.

“Gideon stepped forward. But what could he do? His hands were bound. He was as much a prisoner here as the witch and her child.”

This quote reflects Gideon’s growing recognition of his powerlessness within the violent Republic he serves, thematically reinforcing The Lack of Victors in Cycles of Hatred. By equating himself with the imprisoned witch and her child, Gideon acknowledges how oppression ultimately ensnares everyone, even its enforcers.

“Gideon watched as Aurelia hummed a familiar lullaby against her child’s cheek, trying to calm her. It was the same lullaby his mother once sang to him and his siblings, frightening away their nightmares, soothing them when they were sick. He shook the thought away. This witch was nothing like his mother.”

This moment underscores Gideon’s internal struggle with his learned prejudice. The shared lullaby forces him to confront the humanity in Aurelia, a witch he’s supposed to hate, thus blurring the line between enemy and friend.

“The thought of it—his mouth on Abbie’s—felt like a bullet in her heart. Which made no sense. He was planning to kill every single witch she’d come here to save. He was plotting against her even now. He was a coldhearted brute. Abbie could have him! But Rune’s heart and her head refused to align. They were two ships on different courses. Her heart had gone rogue a long time ago.”

Rune’s thoughts powerfully illustrate her internal conflict and deepening romantic feelings for Gideon. Her jealousy over Abbie reveals that, despite her rational understanding of Gideon’s betrayal, her heart remains tethered to him.

“Even though he was plotting to betray her, even though he would try to follow them—she knew he would—Rune couldn’t let him die. He was Alex’s brother. He’d been tortured and cursed by a cruel witch queen. More importantly: she loved him, despite a million reasons not to.”

This moment encapsulates the complexity of Rune’s feelings for Gideon and the novel’s theme of Overcoming Distrust. Despite knowing that he plans to betray her, Rune’s compassion and love override her self-preservation. Her choice to save him illustrates how their relationship transcends the political war around them.

“The horror of it sank into Rune, chilling her all over. She was a Roseblood. Heir to a cruel witch dynasty. Sister to a terrifying murderer.”

Rune’s internal crisis intensifies as she confronts the truth of her bloodline. Her horror reflects the fear that identity is inescapable and that lineage and legacy might define who she is and what she’s capable of becoming.

“This island has known tyranny for too long […] It’s time to try something new. A world where we can all live as equals.”

Gideon’s thoughts reflect his desire to break free from oppressive systems. He realizes that neither the Republic nor the Rosebloods offer true freedom: Both perpetuate tyranny under different names.

“Gideon. You and I both know there are only two possible paths here. One leads to a malevolent witch queen; the other leads to an authoritarian regime. Alex was right: if we want to be free, the only option is to leave and never look back.”

Trapped between two equally destructive forces (the Rosebloods and the Republic), Rune notes the hopelessness of choosing between systems built on oppression. Her longing to escape reflects both disillusionment and a fear that true freedom is impossible within such power structures, leaving self-exile as the only path to preserving identity and agency.

“It was funny how, now that she was really looking, there was an intelligence in his warm brown eyes she hadn’t noticed before. Bart Wentholt had fooled her into thinking him a dolt, and Rune admired him for it—the way one con artist admires another.”

Bart, whom Rune initially dismissed as a harmless aristocrat, surprises her by revealing hidden depths, forcing her to reassess her assumptions, creating a subtle parallel to how others have misjudged Rune herself. Her comparing him to a fellow con artist underscores her internal conflict between survival-driven deception and the longing for genuine connection.

“Beneath the hurt and fear and anger, she was the same Rune he’d fallen in love with. He believed that. She’d simply forgotten herself—the way he had once forgotten himself.”

It’s uncharacteristic of Rune to run away from a fight that the Crimson Moth would have run toward. Gideon betrays how well he knows Rune by recognizing her loss of identity in these moments of weakness.

“What had she been thinking? Rune never should have asked him to leave with her. In doing so, she’d asked him to go against his conscience. His goodness. She knew perfectly well what it would have cost Gideon to accept her offer. And she’d asked him anyway. It was like Rune had changed places with Alex, who’d begged her to run away, and in doing so, proven he hadn’t really known her at all.”

Rune recognizes that she allowed her feelings to dictate what she believed Gideon should decide for himself. By drawing a parallel to Alex, Rune realizes that love isn’t about asking someone to abandon their core values, but about recognizing and respecting them, even when it hurts.