What Is The Romance Dynamic In 'We Set The Dark On Fire'?

The romance in 'We Set the Dark on Fire' is a slow burn that simmers with tension and political stakes. Carmen and Dani's relationship starts as a rivalry—forced into competition by the oppressive society they live in. Their dynamic shifts from distrust to reluctant allies, then to something deeper as they uncover shared vulnerabilities. What makes it compelling is how their love becomes an act of rebellion against the system that pits women against each other. The chemistry isn’t just about stolen glances; it’s woven into their survival. Every touch carries weight because affection in their world is dangerous. The book frames romance as both a weapon and a refuge, which adds layers to their connection.

Diving into 'We Set the Dark on Fire,' I was struck by how the romance mirrors the novel’s themes of resistance and identity. Carmen and Dani’s relationship isn’t a side plot—it’s central to their defiance of the patriarchal regime. The tension builds organically; they’re trained to see each other as threats, yet their mutual intelligence and hidden kindnesses create cracks in that facade. The author avoids clichés by making their love messy and real. Carmen’s privilege clashes with Dani’s outsider status, forcing them to confront biases neither knew they had.

Their physical intimacy is sparse but electric, emphasizing emotional connection over passion. A standout moment is when Dani lets Carmen see her without her carefully constructed mask of obedience. The trust required for that moment feels earned, not rushed. The political backdrop elevates their romance; every whispered conversation could mean death if overheard. This isn’t a love story that exists in a vacuum—it’s shaped by and shapes the revolution around them. For fans of nuanced queer romance in dystopian settings, this book is a masterclass in balancing heart and stakes.

The romance dynamic here is a chess game with hearts as pieces. Carmen and Dani are supposed to be rivals—destined to share a husband in their society’s twisted polygamous structure. Instead, they subvert everything by choosing each other. Their love story thrives in stolen moments: a brush of hands while passing notes, lingering eye contact during public performances. The author excels at showing how oppression fuels their desire; every secret meeting feels like a victory.

What’s refreshing is how their relationship flaws aren’t glossed over. Carmen’s initial naivety about the system frustrates Dani, whose survival depends on cynicism. Their arguments aren’t petty—they’re ideological, forcing both to grow. The slow shift from 'I need you to survive' to 'I want you to thrive' is beautifully executed. For readers who enjoy romances where the setting is as alive as the characters, this delivers. Pair it with 'The Priory of the Orange Tree' for another sapphic fantasy with political teeth.