“But let it be my ambition and not my fear that seals my fate.”
Luzia Cortado wants more than the scullion’s life. She is hungry for sweet food, soft beds, and the freedom to do… well, freedom itself sounds like enough of an enticement for a servant in a middleclass home, in the late 16th century.
She’s smart enough to know that the little miracles she can perform (making flowers bloom, doubling the meager market fare for the kitchen) aren’t enough to lift her out of servitude – especially when Spain is in the grips of the inquisition. Magic or miracle, a scullion – especially a Jewish scullion – needs to keep her head down, or end up on the pire.
But on the day the bread burned, and Doña Valentina, the mistress of Casa Ordoño, catches Luzia performing one of her milagritos, Valentina’s path to power and station are made clear, and Luzia is the one to whom she will hitch her wagon.
The Familiar by Leigh Bardugo is Cinderella meets Hunger Games
The Familiar is a historical fantasy by Leigh Bardugo of Shadow and Bone and Ninth House fame, who has seemingly made it her mission to emotionally devastate her readers by turning what could easily have been a generic Cinderella retelling, into the Inquisition Hunger Games.
To make little miracles into much bigger miracles, Luzia is coached by the Skarsgardian Santángel, who is somewhat of a milagritohimself – who is tasked with not only ingratiating her with the Spanish Nobility, but to also develop Luzia’s powers further.
Has Santángel ever coached a magic scullion before? That is unclear. But as he is his master’s good luck charm, El Alacrán, his methods are effective, and under his tutelage, Luzia may just survive this deadly competition.
The world is vivid, and fragrant, with the sensory descriptions being almost overwhelming graphic at times, but more often just enough to make your mouth water at the thought of ripping into a pomegranate with your teeth, getting the juice everywhere, as a very tall, hot, maybe magic man gives you licence to be as feral about it as you need be.
The romance is not the focus of the story, but the burn is slow, the longing looks linger, and it is worth every moment as a romantic sub-plot.
The Familiar is punchy, sharp and knows exactly where to turn the knife. The interconnectedness of 16th century Madrid is dizzying, with characters bleeding in and out of the pages for the first time chapters earlier, and propelling the story along effortlessly without need for further introduction. It was a masterclass in The Law of Economy of Characters and if you are not already sold on this book, that reason alone should be enough for you to go grab a copy.
Lyrical and musical
Bardugo herself said that something was different about this book, and as a rabid fan of her Alex Stern Mysteries (Ninth House, Hell Bent), I’m inclined to agree. There is a musical quality to her writing, that whilst lyrical, is more felt in the thrum of blood through your body. Music is an integral part of this story, with Luzia being able to feel it within her as it exists in life around her. Her songs are the last connection she has to her deceased mother, and a tenuous tie to her powerful Aunt, the companion of a wealthy, dangerous man. It is these daily songs, her little prayers, practically stims that make Luzia a powerful ally to a dangerously pious King.
The Familiar was easily one of my picks of the year when it was first published in 2024, and with each reread/relisten it further cements itself in my top five reads of the past decade.
You will find it shelved alongside Rachel Gillig’s fantasy titles (The Shepard King Duology, and The Knight and The Moth) and Madeline Miller’s Circe, another solid historical fantasy to casually destroy you on a Wednesday morning.
I’ll wrap up my review with an anecdote.
I completed my initial listen to The Familiar five minutes before I was due to start work, one fateful Wednesday. I was promptly ushered to the breakroom to calm down, and was allowed to come back to my desk only after I had stopped crying.
It was a REALLY good book.
About Shae Nicholson

Shae is a non-binary femme living and writing on Gubbi-Gubbi land in Queensland Australia.
When they aren’t writing, they are a Virtual Assistant, training as an Audiobook Narrator, and an amatuer mycologist.
They are an audiobook enthusiast and are well known for their top-tier event fashion.
Shae writes about neurodivergent heroines, and the power they hold. She explores the weaponisation of masking and hyperempathy, as well as the subversion of societal and familial norms for neurodivergent women, commonly through feminine rage.
You can find Shae online at their website, on TikTok and on Instagram.