The recent success of Love Bullet demonstrated the power of the global yuri fanbase when united. However, the short-lived serialisations of bold, unconventional titles like SHWD highlight that there's still progress to be made in finding the audience for WLW titles and continuing to support manga that don’t conform to more "commercially appealing" tropes.
That brings me to the manga I’d like to recommend today — a series that evolved from Twitter posts into a full serialisation. Despite its brilliance, it struggled to maintain its serialisation and ultimately concluded after just three printed volumes. Fortunately, it lives on once again as a self-published work, sustained by the dedication of its creator and a passionate fanbase. Now that all three official volumes are available in English and accessible internationally, there’s no better time to talk about The Flower Princess of Sylph — a powerful meditation on love and grief.
Sylph no Hanahime (The Flower Princess of Sylph) by Kamejiro
The Kingdom of Wind has long been ruled by a dynasty blessed by the wind spirit, Sylph. Natalia, the newest monarch, has just ascended the throne following the death of her beloved brother. Overwhelmed by grief, she clings to Sylphide, the sacred sword passed down through generations of rulers. Torn between her duty to present a flawless image to her people and her personal need to mourn, Natalia encounters Sister Sara, an irrepressible nun who takes it upon herself to help the young queen heal. But are Sara’s intentions as selfless as they seem?
From the start, The Flower Princess of Sylph feels like an easy series to recommend — unlike some of the things I talk about on here. The mangaka, Kamejiro, possesses an exquisite artistic sensibility, and every single page of the manga is visually stunning. From the lines beneath Natalia’s weary eyes to the breeze that drifts gently through the kingdom, every detail feels intentional and thoughtfully rendered. Each panel feels like a step deeper into understanding this world and its characters. While the artwork alone is enough to hook most readers, there’s so much more to The Flower Princess of Sylph than just its beauty.
Both Sara and Natalia are extremely well-realised characters in their own right, independent of one another. Natalia has the weight of the world on her shoulders with a prideful determination to stand alone — longing for a connection to her ancestors, yet struggling to form bonds in the present. Sara, on the other hand, appears selfless and devoted to upholding the kingdom’s religious traditions, but beneath that exterior lies a streak of recklessness and quiet selfishness.
I would happily read a story focused on either of these women individually, as they’re equally compelling, but Kamejiro has blessed us with a story that contains them both and —like many stories with romantic undertones— it’s the evolving relationship between the pair that truly captivates, leaving you eager for more when the third volume comes to a close.
Natalia needs to learn how to invest in herself again—not just by rebuilding her confidence, but by caring for both her body and mind. Grief has eaten away at the person she once was, and loss lingers in every part of her daily life as she steps into the role once held by her father and brother. What she truly needs is someone to nourish her, not just with food, but with genuine connection and unguarded conversation.
Sara is everything Natalia doesn’t yet realise she needs. Despite her nun’s habit, she’s a bit of a rogue—rough around the edges, even with her refined upbringing—but her heart is always in the right place. She wants to comfort Natalia, to see past her carefully composed facade, and to help her heal. Initially this comes from a selfish place, but as the two spend time together, Sara finds herself increasingly enchanted by Natalia the woman rather than Natalia the king.
In order to protect each other—and to truly connect—both Natalia and Sara must learn more about each other as they unlearn certain habits. Though the Kingdom of Wind has enjoyed centuries of peace, a sudden direwolf attack hints that this tranquility may be unraveling. In the face of looming danger, the bond between these two women might be the kingdom’s only hope.
UGH UGH UGH!!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!! If you don't want to jump out and immediately purchase the whole thing idk what to tell you. (Speaking of which, there's a Bookwalker promotion running right now with discounted chapters and a free wallpaper. I'm not sponsored but this is a solid bargain, learn more here.)
One thing I feel like I need to highlight in this already glowing review is just how damn funny this series can be. Much like The Vampire & His Pleasant Companions, most reviews focus on the series’ stunning artwork and the evolving relationship between the leads. But they often overlook one of its strongest qualities: its sharp, well-timed humour. Balancing grief and physical comedy is no easy feat, yet Kamejiro pulls it off brilliantly, delivering true laugh-out-loud moments that underscore the emotional complexity of the story. It’s this blend of heartache and hilarity that I feel truly captures the fullness of the human experience and is a rare treat in stories that handle the darker aspects so well.
As mentioned at the start of this review, The Flower Princess of Sylph concluded its official serialisation after three printed volumes. However, Kamejiro has continued the story independently, self-publishing a new volume recently under the same title (currently available in Japanese language only). The official English release recently wrapped up with Chapter 17, which marks the final chapter from the official serialisation. Fortunately, Kamejiro plans to continue releasing English translations of the ongoing self-published chapters in the near future.
In addition to buying the official English language chapter releases via BookWalker or on Kobo or Amazon, you can support the artist by purchasing the fourth volume in Japanese via Booth or by subscribing to their Pixiv Fanbox for ongoing posts and artwork about the series and characters.
We might not be at a point where social campaigns can pull a Love Bullet for every sapphic title out there, but there is joy to be found in the dedication fans have for series like The Flower Princess of Sylph. While this story has never managed to slot neatly into any commercial boxes, Kamejiro's determination to bring Natalia & Sara to the world is admirable and who knows what the future might have in store for self-published works that refuse to be held down by the whims of the market.
I can safely say that I will continue to read and support The Flower Princess of Sylph for as long as Kamejiro continues to work on it. The leads are refreshing, the setting is intriguing, and the story offers a powerful message about the importance of letting others in if we truly want to nurture and heal ourselves.
