The back of Harrow the Ninth says that the fate of the universe rests on one woman (Harrow’s) shoulders. But crucially, it doesn’t. Harrow isn’t a full Lyctor, but is too loyal to God to consider betraying him. No one expects her to help fight the Resurrection Beast, and she doesn’t. Half the cast dies and she’s not even there to see it. Harrow the Ninth is such an intimate novel. Sure, you’re getting a handful space adventures and reveals about the characters (which are delightful of course) but the titular character? When she fights, she’s only fighting for herself and her cavalier. And I love that.