Good review, you're certainly much better at words than I am. I personally disagree with some aspects of your criticisms about Alec's role in the story and the assertion that the misery-p*rn content is prioritized over the character-progression, so I felt compelled to respond.

Firstly, the perception of Alec's perfection stems from Sophia's skewed perspective, rooted in her inferiority complex; he's neither an evil mastermind nor a sue-like entity. His role in the narrative is to serve as Sophia's foil. As the Worthy heir of the royal legacy, Alec embodis everything Sophia lacks: compatibility with the holy sword, innate talent, and the resolve to ruthlessly sacrifice others for the good of Lauretalia. While his actions are framed as necessary for national security, I don't think that's the author's clumsy attempt to excuse them--it highlights the contrast between the siblings' diverging values: duty without compassion versus compassion forsaking duty. That's important because when Sophia uncovers the truth about witches and the conspiracy to turn the saint into a "vessel that will never get lonely, " the choice to sacrifice Theresa for the good of all is the dilemma fueling her resentments. She's driven to question whether the world is even worth preserving--and ultimately she chooses to follow her own desires, abandoning crown and country to be at Theresa's side as her only friend.

Also you're misrepresenting two things from the book

1. The rapist priest dude IS granted amnesty by Alec, but he doesn't get off just getting the sh*t beat out of him by Sophia. As he was excommunicated but had classified information, he states that the kingdom would mu*der him as soon as he gets out and that the amnesty is just to keep things tidy.

2. The behemoth fight had nothing to do with who Sophia was marrying at all. Sophia volunteers to go because she's compulsively self-sacrificing and knew going in alone would save thousands. Alec agrees because he's a dipshit, but also in the afterstory he explains that she really was the best person for the job given she's still a powerhouse in her own right.

As for the 'suffering' in the story, maybe it's mental illness from reading too much, but I honestly didn't think it was especially grim. Yes, Theresa's past as a church trafficked child sex-s*ave is dark, but I thought that the author handled it tastefully and with purpose. It's not just some shock value schlock; it's integral to contextualizing her identity, her sense of being an object rather than a person, and her push-pull relationship with Sophia, who she resents but is hopelessly attracted to. The emotional impact of those scenes--like when she starts crying after being welcomed into Sophia's mother's cottage, or the entire afterstory--wouldn't have hit me nearly as hard were the backstory lighter or more pure.

I agree with your point about excessive passivity and archetypes, though your example is weak. Still, given that 'passivity' and 'roles' are big themes of the story, and that it's a small-scall work, I found the flaws tolerable albeit irksome.

not only being r*ped repeatedly before and during her sainthood, but by her own father to boot, and that rapist father being freed by Alec with full knowledge of the acts done

he sends Sophia to die fighting against the magical beast to avoid having to figure out who to marry her off to, even though he ends up faking her death later in the story, anyways.

would Sophia not do anything to the person who repeatedly r*ped her lover beyond punching him in the stomach and walking away?