Previously, our heroes arrived at the Summer Court and proceeded to act like dicks as putting on a show for the world is their cross to bear. For reasons.
A Court of Mist and Fury Chapter 33:
We were given a suite of connecting rooms, all centered on a large, lavish lounge that was open to the sea and city below.
No, this sounds terrible. Why are Fae so into having rooms that open out into the world? This is a recipe for bug-specific disaster. I do not agree with these architectural designs.
We also have to hear about how all the other rooms are decorated, which I think Maas sometimes confuses for world-building. Rhys interrupts Feyre’s meticulous description of her room to tell her that he likes Tarquin and wants her to figure out at way to steal the book without upsetting him, which seems like an…unlikely outcome at best.
Rhys then abruptly steers the conversation to sexier territory:
“Do you like that Tarquin can’t stop looking at you? I can’t tell if it’s because he wants you, or because he knows you have his power and wants to see how much.”
“Can’t it be both?”
“Of course. But having a High Lord lusting after you is a dangerous game.”
Oh no, does this mean Tarquin is going to enlist Feyre to break another curse that hinges on guessing the word “love”? Or maybe he’s going to send her back to steal something from the poor Weaver who has since learned a valuable lesson about leaving candles burning around her house. Such is the price of a high lord’s interest.
“First you taunt me with Cassian, now Tarquin? Can’t you find other ways to annoy me?”
Rhys prowled closer, and I steadied myself for his scent, his warmth, the impact of his power. He braced a hand on either side of me, gripping the dresser. I refused to shrink away. “You have one task here, Feyre. One task that no one can know about. So do anything you have to in order to accomplish it. But get that book. And do not get caught.”
If someone did this to me, including my husband, I would be like, “Back the fuck off and also answer my question as your response makes 0 sense.” This isn’t sexy in this context, it’s just poor social skills.
I wasn’t some simpering fool. I knew the risks. And that tone, that look he always gave me … “Anything?” His brows rose. I breathed, “If I fucked him for it, what would you do?”
Rhys tells her to go ahead, but doesn’t specify if this was actually what he meant by “anything”. This creates sexual tension between Feyre and Rhys as they both repeat “fine” to one another in close proximity. I am definitely not as charmed by this line of flirtation as I’m supposed to be. Rhys is this ancient being, but the way he tries to egg Feyre on about Cassian and Tarquin is really immature.
Then they go back to repeating how serious this mission is and how seriously they take it. Rhys’ response to this is to tell Feyre to magically light a candle??? I hope that he is actually the Weaver in disguise and as soon as this candle gets lit, she’s gonna light this place up and get her revenge.
Instead, Feyre accidentally throws water all over the candle because being so close to Tarquin is strengthening his powers inside her.
No one was my master— but I might be master of everything, if I wished. If I dared.
The other day I was talking to Matt about how this series is actually about Feyre’s journey to become Zoe Redbird. Think about it. Zoe has ALL the elements, and Feyre has ALL the powers. To be determined if both have ALL the boys, but it’s seeming that way.
I willed the droplets to separate until they hung around us, catching the light and sparkling like crystals on a chandelier.
Rhys broke my stare to study them. “I suggest,” he murmured, “you not show Tarquin that little trick in the bedroom.”
Dude, stop saying things like this, it’s embarrassing. Feyre splashes the water in his face, which makes him smile. She abruptly asks, “Will he go to war? Over me?”
The temper that had been on Rhys’s face moments before turned to lethal calm. “I don’t know.”
Rhys was literally just smiling, where was this hot temper? And what is with this lethal calm nonsense that comes up all the time in this series and Fifty Shades/Crossfire? A man can be calm without being dangerous/scary and also be sexy. It’s a real and possible thing that occurs.
Feyre says she would go back to Tamlin to prevent a war and bloodshed even though she doesn’t want to.
“He locked you up because he knew— the bastard knew what a treasure you are. That you are worth more than land or gold or jewels. He knew, and wanted to keep you all to himself.”
[…] “He did— does love me, Rhysand.”
“The issue isn’t whether he loved you, it’s how much. Too much. Love can be a poison.”
“You’re so valuable and he loved you so much he just was going to lock you up forever because he views you as a valuable possession! Because love!” What? No! Stop explaining Tamlin’s actions away by saying he loved Feyre too much! People love other people to the end of the earth and back without locking them in a house.
Later, everyone attends the party on the famed, highly anticipated, pleasure barge! What a treat! Feyre and Tarquin chat, and she convinces him to show her all of his treasure, which he doesn’t find highly suspicious for some reason. They also discuss how he wants equality for all Fae, and honestly it’s a nice talk and one of the few that has an actual, natural flow to it. Well, until this:
“Tell me what that look means,” Tarquin said, bracing his muscled arms on the gold tablecloth.
I said baldly, “I’m thinking it would be very easy to love you. And easier to call you my friend.”
He smiled at me— broad and without restraint. “I would not object to either.”
Easy— very easy to fall in love with a kind, considerate male.
What a fucking strange thing to say! It’s probably supposed to come across as disarming and charming, but yeesh. Also, cool your jets, Feyre, you had one nice talk with this guy!
Meanwhile, Rhys is flirting with a member of Tarquin’s court, and Feyre is jealous and lonely, so she goes off to sulk. She’s sad when Rhys doesn’t come after her and assumes he’s banging Tarquin’s friend.
Side question: Has anyone else noticed that people are constantly “breathing” in this story? No no, not literally taking breaths, but instead of writing, “I said”, we repeatedly get, “I breathed” for every god damn situation! “There was chicken at dinner,” I breathed. “The sky is blue,” I breathed.