See a first look of Petra Mr’s ‘transgender Epic’ YA Roman ‘Queen of the faces’

Class inequality is strenuous, but imagine your social status will allow you to beat your body

This is the idea at the core of Queen of faces, A new ya rovomelades on the shelves the 29th January, 2026. Petra Lord’s book folly, the AAntor, a world of buying the eager, a world where the magical elevate bodies and tightly

Desperate to escape their tabatted form, Ana attempts to introduce the prestigious paragon Academy and lacking their entry exam. Counting down on their last breath that she-drop her abstusion to steal a new form – and is going by the shailmaster of paragmaster academakia with her breaking.

Ana has no choice to accept, Thoust and Brewlt and the Carimor of Carimor carrying the Rebrees in a Received Dark Warx. Found on and on and a tangled web of secrets, the line between ballers and herollluses for anna, for ana, to die for which side of the battle.

Entertainment weekly has your first look Queen of faces. Check the cover below and the below for more of the Lord, as well as an exclusive exception.

Entertainment week: How did you first get the idea of ​​body marking as a class marker / feature of a dystopic world?

PETRA SORR: This book has begun nearly a decade and in 2017, when I have the idea of ​​a fantasy world where the spirits are the souls shouting free between the body. I always love cyberpunk narrative like Spirit in the shell or The matrixand the fundamental aspects of the mean-finance gedicaway dredes. Your body, your mice, the cant of your identity of your identity, and the savings inquiry questions that make it.

All good dystopes is a reflection of the real-world policy; Suzanne Collins wrote The hunger Games After seeing the war in Iraq, walked with reality TV, and The gloves Stitter gilays of the realkomen’s rats in the governments committed against women. In our world the money is finding the money or technology anchor regions of the hiear of the warmershore, money and strength and strength and power. In the Queen of facesthat extends on the whole face and body.

How has your own identity forms the story?

Queen of faces is a story about identity, over the transformation of both body and soul. It’s a history to register, the old hens of interposes with your friendly pap, and brew themselves in big world. As so, my identity as a Trans Spouse was always at the core of this narrative. Gender is something, most people take for granted, but in the world of this name were rawed, they no longer go and the newly agreed – something has.

So, I see Queen of faces as transmendent epic, a fantasy of the transition in reconstruction. But, I hope all that people have lending their battle in in with Promatoon can knowing the “backsoof.

This cover is amazing. Do you specific asks in the design process?

I looked at this cover again and again because I first saw it, and it still has my breath away. I was slightly on the Prepipt SUGRIEWITIES, in part so cover artists could have full freedom to run their imagination. My only request was not to describe a rings maskular face for the main character, or if it was very very much to make a more feminine face. I wanted the cover the tanked wheel to reflect and reflect the future as a future and hope for the future, not just her body and face and their lying and her luer and sight Michaela Alcaino exceeded my Wilddest Warmations, and I couldn’t feel happier.

Can you tell us more about some of the pieces of the picture, ie, ie butterfly or the wave?

The butterfly is a common image to represent transformation (or gender development) – so is generally a cliché. If someone suggested it to Ana, the main character, replies her with blessing cynicism. “Most caterpillars die at the cocker,” she says. “They ate through seeds or birds or rats or reptiles will put their eggs in them in the sprouts. They are not inspired; they are victims.”

The rest of the book to ask about the question: “Is she right? What hell would you like to go through when it is thought about yourself on the other side?”

For the waves, Queen of faces is placed in a world where the oceans is increasing quickly. For most people, it’s no question of if, but when the whole world displaced. Each nation and the city is on a countdown is just like decay bodies bodies on his impending death. We start with mortal despair. Where we quit is up to her.

How did you determine the rules of magic in this particular world?

In the Queen of facesIf your body is like an outfit, you can change, your mind, the core of your laundry, your greatest weapon. So the So Eas in different types of various types of various food Saimheights: Matmhe Mammhorium, which includes the voice integration of energy integlicating.

In addition some mages a unique ability tied with their soul, called a codex. To grow his power, you must grow as a person, discover you, and reach a small cloth. Transformation is the beat heart of this awesome world. To quote a character: “magic is not power. Magic is not the control. Magic is the art of changing”

Describe the book in three words.

The death. Metamorphosis. Rebuild.

Exclusive except

I cry which denses the denses, the goods, the good housing, last housing, passing of pokles and archases. After a few time the tropure has been burgesting into an outcight, and I show a blame Seller. The only sound was a valid ecetfro Countain Trueptula in the middle explain their water with green.

I stopped a moment, to think my next step as the adrenaline throughout my veins.

Then the water flows out of the fountains, a miniature movement.

It struck in my chest, my old chassis struck from my shoulder. My stolen gun is flying out of my hand.

The liquid wrapped around me, moved me into the cobbles. I spark, trying to break, but it was rock-hard, a water componespec stop my limbs. My eyes left to the left and right, search for my association in the storm.

Then the prosecutes froze over me, hovering in place.

A pair of fingers priced one of the air it keeps it on the moonlight as a little gestone. Then they left me, and an infrely bleeding teens wise wisely, clinging on my gun in her hand in their hand. She carried the dark pants and blazers of a paragon student, with a heart-stormed face, green eyes, and a condescending smirk. Her beauty was cold, evil, like a leopard waiting for pitting.

I’ve risen rainbow to her use, me invisible. She cuts, and the water stored closer. “Whatever magically do you make up to trick my senses, it doesn’t matter. I can feel all the inches of that water with my pith, so I can feel you.”

A sixth sense. I had not worked a prompt magic like that. I relax my CODEX, the Turkens are visible again.

“Please try to escape.” Their voice was Cherry. “Professor Turwood just learned this spell, and I die and get some practice.” She has cleared over me, blond hair shaded her face. “If you really want to play, I will show you my Codex. Care for a look?”

I have swallowed, start on her. Their icy smirk has made her no less dazzling, an irritating fact.

“Not to mention, my fiance, Samuel Pakhem, will quickly pick up. Call one CODEX checks turns. A wrong move, and he will trigger your teeth like a string cloud clay. ”

“Please.” I spoke with a light, harmonious voice, nothing like my Edgar’s. “It’s not what you think. I’m not-”

I wanted to see how si hi inglifted that I dreamed in her school, show up, show you for her mind. That I would like to join the Edraging Garde as she would like a day.

But I just moved and kept the tears under my eyes back. I would go to jail now is a boy’s prison without hope of escaping. And I would die for a long time before my sentence was.

I had no chance to fit her in the fight. As Paragon Student didn’t know her dosens of sugar. Hundreds. Not mention their secret code. I barely knew what a pith is less than them used in the battle. And there was no way I walk her, let me go. Not if she knew about my illusions. I could also wait for her to rot her, and beg this Samuel boy to take damage to me.

Samuel.

A idea of ​​sided in my head, threads weaving together. The strategy has formed in a clear image, a series of moves to digest me from this trap.

I knew what I did.

I have removed in a deep breath, fill in my new lungs with the air.

Then I screamed, as loud as I could. I screamed again and again and again, with the voice of my Star-wired chassis. I screamed until my chest dressed.

The girl smiles. “Sure, bringing the whole neighborhood here. With a personality like that will do you great in prison. ”

I have stuck. Burned my throat. Pulled my ears. The girl held that moment. And when she laughed I saved my ears. Fotts shakes on us from the page alley. “Nell!” a boy shouting. “Nell!”

Samuel. Their fiamers, shot over the hosts of a scream.

Nail sniffs. “You criminals are all the s-”

As the Séeamama in the range were, I have used my illusions on him. I cut nell and I self, it looks like I am standing over her. I’ve extended my arm like hide, a gun are struck in their hand. It’s why I had 19 pm theering of her elyititit positive, to shoot.

A width-shoulderbear struck around the corner, dressed in a paragon uniform. A thin wire cuts next to him in the moonlight.

The air whisted, and I fly.

NELL’s right hand has left.

Time frozen. The girl looked at their red stump.

Then she screamed and fell on the floor, dirty, grumpy their arms. The girl, clinging, BEDHING in a dark puddle on the floor.

I love. Steel wire. Samala must cut clean by their wrist.

The hanging rinquires fallen. What pie cage did not smoothly, and my stolen gun climbed over the cobbles.

Copyright © 2026 of Petra Lord. Used with Henry of Henry Holt and Co. (Borr), an imprint of the MacMillan children’s consumer group. All rights reserved.