It's not just about a throne or a crown. It's about watching a woman who starts off underestimated. Overlooked. Then she claims the power that was always hers—and we feel it in our BONES. Here's why "nobody to queen" will always wreck us.
If you've ever finished a fantasy romance where the heroine goes from nobody to queen and felt something shift inside your chest—like maybe you could conquer your own kingdom too—this post is for you.
You know EXACTLY the arc I'm talking about.
She starts powerless. Maybe she's a servant, a human in a fae court, an orphan with no claim to anything, or just a girl who was told her whole life that she didn't matter. And then she discovers her magic. Masters her power. Gathers her people. Faces down the villain, breaks the curse, wins the war, and claims the throne that was ALWAYS hers—not because some dude gave it to her, not because she married into it, but because she EARNED it. She bled for it. She became the kind of woman who couldn't be denied.
And when she finally puts on that crown? We don't just read it. We FEEL it.
So why does watching a heroine become a queen hit SO differently than literally any other character arc? Why do we inhale these stories like we're starving?
Because in a world that constantly tells women to be smaller, these stories let us imagine being limitless.
It's Not About the Crown (It's About the Claim)
Here's what people get wrong when they dismiss the "heroine becomes queen" trope as basic wish fulfillment.
They think it's about the throne. The title. The pretty dresses and the palace and the aesthetic Pinterest boards.
Nope.
It's about a woman looking at a world that told her she didn't belong and saying, "Watch me take it anyway."
The crown is just the symbol. The real power? That's in the transformation—watching someone go from invisible to undeniable, from powerless to sovereign, from apologizing for existing to commanding entire realms.
The Journey Is the Whole Point
The best "heroine becomes queen" stories don't hand her the crown on page fifty. (That would be boring as hell.)
They make her FIGHT for it.
She trains. She studies. She fails and gets back up. She makes allies and enemies. She discovers powers she didn't know she had and learns to wield them without accidentally burning down half the castle. (Growth!)
She doesn't just inherit power—she BECOMES powerful.
And that's the addictive part. Because most of us have spent literal decades being told that power isn't for us. That ambition is unattractive. That wanting more makes us greedy or difficult or threatening.
These stories look at all that messaging and say, "Actually? She's gonna take the whole kingdom. And she's gonna look stunning doing it."
Why Fantasy Romance Hits Different for This Arc
Sure, you could write a contemporary story about a woman climbing the corporate ladder or becoming a political leader. Some authors do! Those stories can be great.
But they don't quite hit the same way as watching a heroine become a literal or figurative queen in a fantasy world.
Here's why:
Magic Makes the Metaphor Physical
In fantasy, power isn't some abstract concept you have to squint at. It's TANGIBLE.
When the heroine discovers her magic, we SEE it. Fire in her palms. Shadows answering her call. The earth shifting when she gets pissed off.
Her internal transformation becomes external. Her growing confidence manifests as literal power that no one can deny or dismiss or gaslight her about later.
That's cathartic in a way real-world power struggles can't quite capture. Because in real life? When women claim power, it gets questioned. Undermined. Attributed to someone else—usually a man. (Shocking, I know.)
In fantasy? Her magic is HERS. Her throne is HERS. Nobody gets to pretend she didn't earn it.
The Stakes Justify the Ambition
In contemporary settings, female ambition gets punished by the narrative ALL THE TIME. The "girlboss" becomes the villain. The ambitious woman sacrifices her humanity for success and we're supposed to feel bad for her. (Yawn.)
But in fantasy romance? Ambition isn't a character flaw—it's survival.
She NEEDS to become queen because the kingdom is falling apart without her, or an ancient evil is threatening everyone she loves, or a prophecy says she's the only one who can save them, or the tyrant currently on the throne is destroying her people.
Her desire for power isn't selfish. It's necessary. It's heroic.
And that gives us permission to want power too—not despite being good people, but BECAUSE we're good people who could actually use it responsibly. (Revolutionary concept, right?)
The Romance Doesn't Diminish Her
Here's another concept that makes fantasy romance PERFECT for this arc: the love interests don't compete with her power. They worship it.
In traditional narratives, a woman's romantic arc requires her to soften, compromise, or choose between love and ambition. Pick one, sweetheart!
In dark fantasy romance? The fae king watches her claim the throne and drops to his knees. The vampire lord sees her wield her magic and thinks, "That's my queen." (And then he probably does something feral about it, but that's a whole other post.)
Her power makes her MORE desirable, not less. Her ambition makes her MORE lovable, not threatening.
Tell me that's not revolutionary.
Why This Arc Hooks Us So Hard (Psychologically Speaking)
Let's talk about why this specific arc lives rent-free in our heads.
It's Revenge Without the Guilt
Most heroines who become queens start from nothing. They've been dismissed, ignored, or actively oppressed.
And then they RISE.
They become powerful enough that everyone who doubted them has to bow. Everyone who hurt them has to face consequences. Everyone who said she was nothing has to watch her become everything.
It's the ultimate "look at me now" fantasy—but without the baggage of being petty or vindictive because she's not doing it for revenge. She's doing it to save her people, break a curse, stop a war.
The revenge is just...a side benefit. (And honestly? We're SO here for it.)
For readers who've been underestimated, overlooked, or dismissed? Watching someone rise from nothing to undeniable is like mainlining validation.
It Models What We're Too Afraid to Want
Uncomfortable truth time: a LOT of women have been socialized to fear our own power.
We've been taught that being "too much"—too loud, too ambitious, too confident—makes us unlikable. Threatening. The woman nobody wants at their dinner party.
So we shrink. We apologize for taking up space. We downplay our achievements, second guess ourselves, and defer to others even when we KNOW we're right.
These stories give us permission to stop doing that.
To stop apologizing. To stop shrinking. To claim space and demand respect and hold power without feeling guilty about it.
We're not reading because we literally wanna rule kingdoms (although honestly, some of us probably would and should if given the chance). We're reading because we want to possess that same energy in our own lives—the confidence to take up space, the courage to claim what's ours, the audacity to stop apologizing for being powerful.
It's Competence P**n for Women
There's a reason "competence p**n" is a thing. (bots made me edit that, but you know what I mean.)
Watching someone be really, REALLY good at something is deeply satisfying. It just is.
And in "heroine becomes queen" stories, we get to watch her master magic or combat, political strategy, leadership and diplomacy, her own trauma and emotional growth, complex relationships and alliances—ALL of it.
She's not just lucky. She's CAPABLE.
Seeing a woman be undeniably, inarguably competent—to the point where even her enemies have to respect her—is a fantasy many of us are absolutely starving for.
The Different Flavors of "Becoming Queen"
Not all "heroine becomes queen" stories are the same. They come in different flavors, and each one scratches a slightly different itch.
The Reluctant Queen: She never wanted the throne. She just wanted to survive or save her friends or break her curse. But duty called. Prophecy chose her. The kingdom needed her. So she stepped up—and discovered she was born for this. (Permission to claim power even when we don't feel ready.)
The Stolen Throne: Her crown was taken from her—by betrayal, by conquest, by birth order that favored her useless brother. And now? She's taking it back. (Justice. Satisfaction. The fantasy of everyone who wronged us finally facing consequences.)
The Earned Crown: She was born a commoner. A human. A nobody. But through hard work, discovered magic, loyal allies, and sheer determination, she proved she deserved to rule. (The ultimate meritocracy fantasy where competence actually matters more than privilege.)
The Dark Queen: She doesn't just wanna rule. She wants to burn the whole system down and rebuild it in her image. She's not here to be benevolent. She's here to be POWERFUL. (Permission to be ruthless and stop performing niceness for people who don't deserve it.)
When It Works vs. When It Falls Flat
Not every "heroine becomes queen" story lands. Some feel earned. Others feel hollow.
It works when: She earns her power through actual growth (not luck), faces real obstacles and setbacks, her relationships evolve as she changes, she makes difficult choices with real consequences, and her power doesn't erase her humanity.
It falls flat when: She's suddenly powerful with zero training or growth, everyone immediately loves and follows her for no reason (must be nice), she never makes mistakes or faces real opposition, her power makes her boring, or—and this is the worst one—the throne is handed to her by a man. (Eww. No.)
The difference is ALWAYS agency and growth.
We don't wanna watch her get crowned. We wanna watch her BECOME the woman who deserves the crown.
Why This Arc Matters Right Now
There's a reason "heroine becomes queen" stories have exploded in popularity over the last decade.
We're living in an era where women are being told—AGAIN—to shrink. To be grateful for scraps. To stop being so loud, so demanding, so much.
And we're exhausted by it.
We're tired of performing smallness. We're done apologizing for ambition. We're over the narrative that powerful women are inherently threatening or unlikable or bitches who need to be taken down a peg.
These stories give us what reality often doesn't: women who claim power without apology, who are loved BECAUSE of their strength (not despite it), and who transform from invisible to undeniable.
It's not escapism. It's rehearsal.
We're reading these stories and imagining what it would feel like to embody that energy. To stop shrinking. To claim our space. To wear our own metaphorical crowns without waiting for permission from anyone.
The Fantasy Isn't the Throne (It's the Transformation)
Strip away the fantasy trappings—the magic, the battles, the literal crowns—and you know what you're left with?
A story about a woman who refused to stay small.
A story about claiming power on your own terms.
A story about becoming the kind of person who can't be ignored, dismissed, or diminished.
THAT'S what we're really hungry for when we devour these books. Not the throne. The transformation. The permission to be powerful, ambitious, and completely unapologetic about it.
Now that's a fantasy worth chasing.
Want to Watch a Heroine Claim Her Power?
Inside The Wilde Kingdom, I write heroines who don't wait for crowns to be handed to them. They take them.
My Alice doesn't stumble into Wonderland hoping for a way out. She conquers it. She gathers her monsters, masters her magic, and becomes exactly the kind of woman who could rule the chaos.
I don't write damsels who wait to be saved. I just can't do it. I write queens in the making—women who are powerful, complex, and absolutely done apologizing for taking up space.
Ready to step inside?
Enter The House of Wilde (the free tier) and you'll get:
✨ Sneak peeks of the first few chapters of each story—where "touch her and die" gets really creative
brought to life
📙 Free download of The Grimoire—your guide to all the unhinged devotion in the Jekkaverse
🔮 Snarky monthly horoscopes from The Cheshire Cat
🌙 Full moon magic with Hatter—because magic and mayhem go together
🔥 Access to our private community where we analyze exactly why certain threats make us feral
The samples are free. The transformation is inevitable.
The Bottom Line
We love books where the heroine becomes a queen because they give us permission to stop performing smallness. It's not about the crown. It's not about the throne.
It's about the transformation from invisible to undeniable. From powerless to sovereign. From being "too much" to becoming "exactly enough."
These stories don't just let us escape...they let us rehearse becoming the women we're too afraid to be in real life. They show us what it looks like to claim power, own ambition, and wear our crowns without waiting for permission.
And in a world that constantly tells us to be smaller?
That's not indulgence. That's survival.
