The Queen and the Countess by Anne O'Brien

 

KEEP THY FRIENDS CLOSE,

THY ENEMIES CLOSER...

England 1450s

Queen Margaret knows she must protect the crown, and her son Prince Edward's claim to it, at all costs. It is up to her to fight for their inheritance, with her husband King Henry becoming increasingly frail. And as the Wars of the Roses rage on, Margaret's enemies lurk close, threatening to unravel everything she is trying to protect.

Anne, Countess of Warwick, has long striven to be a loyal and accomplished wife to the Earl of Warwick. But when she develops an unlikely alliance with the Lancastrian Queen Margaret, her husband's adversary, she wonders how much power now lies in her hands to determine the course of history.

Crossing enemy lines, the pair strike up a thorny friendship - yet in the midst of treachery and the turmoil of battle, can the two women trust each other?

Or is it only a matter of time before war drives a sword between them...

Book Review

✰✰✰✰✰

The Queen and the Countess is one of those historical novels that immediately reminds you why Anne O’Brien has such a loyal following. The moment you pick it up, you can practically feel the tension humming beneath the royal tapestries—politics, ambition, rivalries, and the ever-shifting sands of courtly power. And the best part? O’Brien makes it all feel alive, not like a lesson in a dusty textbook.

This book focuses on the dynamic between two formidable women, and honestly, that’s where it shines brightest. Neither character is painted as flawless or villainous; instead, O’Brien gives them depth, vulnerability, drive, and just enough sharp edges to make their interactions deliciously tense. You’re not just observing history—you’re pulled into a clash of personalities, motives, and loyalties that feels very human despite the royal backdrop.

What I love is how O’Brien approaches historical fiction: she doesn’t overwhelm you with details, but she also doesn’t cut corners. The world feels rich and convincing—whether she’s describing court intrigue, personal ambitions, or the way alliances shift with the smallest whisper. You get a sense of how dangerous it was to be powerful and female in a world ruled almost entirely by men, and she captures that with empathy and a bit of dramatic flair.

The pacing is steady, but in a deliberate, absorbing way. This isn’t a sprint; it’s a slow burn that rewards you for paying attention to the subtle moves happening between characters. You can tell O’Brien did her homework, but the storytelling never feels academic—it feels like stepping into a scandal that history forgot to warn you about.

And the emotional nuance is lovely. These women have fears, hopes, regrets, and pride, and those qualities make their choices resonate. Even when you don’t agree with what they do, you understand why they’re doing it. That’s the kind of complexity that makes a character linger in your mind after you’ve closed the book.

If you enjoy historical fiction that leans into the drama and politics of real royal courts—especially stories centered on powerful women trying to navigate dangerous worlds—this one is absolutely worth diving into. It’s atmospheric, character-driven, and full of that signature Anne O’Brien tension that keeps you reading “just one more chapter.”