Lady Maccon's not very comfortable in her Victorian skin. Her society expects a demure passive woman, one who accepts her spinsterhood, allows mom and more aesthetically "appropriate" sisters to dictate her level of self regard, and moves in accord with the restrictive natures of corsets and bustles. Alexia breaks the mold, speaking back to her relations, telling Alphas to get their acts together, flailing against her trip-inducing undergarments, even going so far as to recommend a woman be made supernatural and Alpha of the pack. I love her (despite my inability to get the vision of Minnie Driver-as-Alexia out of my head).
Changeless didn't line up exactly with my expectations before reading. I hoped to hear more from Lord Akeldama and Lyall. Conall acted like an arse throughout most of the book, refusing to communicate even basic details of the task before him. The Tunstell/Hisselpenny hot-and-cold relationship sometimes made me wish I could flog them with Alexia's parasol. But then these minor frustrations gave way to the mysterious gender-bending fun that is Madame Lefoux, the doomsday machine that is Alexia's super-parasol, and the overall Agatha Christie-esque feel of the story. Who can Alexia really trust in the end?
Another aspect of the story I've enjoyed immensely is Alexia's journey of self discovery as a preternatural. She and I seem to know the same amount - very little - about the implications of soullessness. Carriger allows us to discover the significance together. Could the vampires be right about preternaturals as the greatest of all weapons? More of the answer may lie ahead in Blameless.