We’re forty-fucking-four chapters into A Court of Mist and Fury and there has been zero mist and zero fury, but a fuckton of romantic and sexual tension. Just saying, the title could have been more accurate.
A Court of Mist and Fury: Chapter 44
Feyre hasn’t even seen Rhysand since their fight during the last chapter. This chapter mostly takes place during Starfall, a special faerie holiday which is basically faerie Fourth of July, and with the entire city of Velaris celebrating and Feyre spending the evening with all of her and Rhysand’s mutual friends, she figures he’s gotta show his face eventually. She decides to dress herself instead of having her shadow faerie haidmaidens do it, which gives the story a convenient reason to have Feyre see her reflection for the first time in weeks and realize she doesn’t look emaciated and tired anymore.
At the party, it’s apparently a good time for Mor to tell Feyre the story about the time she lost her virginity to Cassian so her family would disown her and set her free. Why not.
“Cauldron, that was a long time ago. I visited Rhys for two weeks when he was training in the war-camp, and Cassian, Azriel, and I became friends. One night, Rhys and his mother had to go back to the Night Court, and Azriel went with them, so Cassian and I were left alone. And that night, one thing led to another, and … I wanted Cassian to be the one who did it. I wanted to choose.” A third shrug. I wondered if Azriel had wished to be the one she chose instead. If he’d ever admitted to it to Mor—or Rhys. If he resented that he’d been away that night, that Mor hadn’t considered him.
“And you were never with anyone after it?” […]
“I’ve had lovers,” Mor clarified, “but … I get bored. And Cassian has had them, too, so don’t get that unrequited-love, moony-woo-woo look”
“It’s irritated [Cassian] for centuries that I walked away and never looked back.”
“Oh, it drives him insane,” Rhys said from behind me
Oh, cool, Rhysand is back. Guess we’re done pretending the minor characters’ love story is interesting. Time to pretend Rhysand is good at flirting again.
“You look like a woman again.”
“You really know how to compliment females, cousin,” Mor said
Given that Mor is doing the “referring to women as females” thing, I’m guessing that she wouldn’t be very good at this either.
Rhysand tells Feyre that he “wasn’t punishing you. I just… I needed time”, but Feyre doesn’t really want to talk about it in public. At that moment, the special events begin as stars begin to tear across the sky. Rhysand explains that the stars are “just spirits, on a yearly migration to somewhere. Why they pick this day to appear here, no one knows”. I can really relate to that; it’s like what reading this book is like.
“There were less and less of them the last time I witnessed Starfall.”
Before Amarantha had locked him away.
“What’s happening to them?” […]
“I wish I knew. But they keep coming back despite it.”
“Why does anything cling to something?”
A question that A Court of Mist and Fury has so far spent 436 pages not even trying to answer.
Rhysand and Feyre go to a private balcony to talk and watch the stars/spirits/fireworks. They both admit they said horrible things to each other and immediately stop talking about their feelings. Rhysand says that the entire time he was Amarantha’s prisoner, she kept him in her bed during every Starfall because she knew it was his favorite. Rhysand says he hasn’t talked to anyone about this because he doesn’t want to ruin Starfall for his friends. Feyre suggests he should open up to his friends. Rhysand points out that Feyre doesn’t exactly follow her own advice. Feyre wonders if “maybe all those words bottled up in me … Maybe I didn’t need them right now”. Feyre’s fingers graze Rhysand’s.
This is probably no surprise, but I find Rhysand insufferable and think he needs therapy more than he needs a girlfriend. That said, I’m sure most people reading this book (save for the ones who read it because they liked the first book and are really confused about what happened with Tamlin, of course, so, uh, some readers, I guess?) are probably dying for Feyre and Rhysand to just fucking get on with it already. We got fireworks. We got touching. We got 400 pages of tension. Actual fans of this book (which is, again, distinct from actual fans of the first book who are very confused about this book) are probably so frustrated that these two are in this scene and not kissing already.
Sarah J Maas is thinking something more like, “What if the star spirits flew into their stupid faces?”
I stroked a finger down his.
And as I turned to him more fully, something blinding and tinkling slammed into my face.
I reeled back, crying out as I bent over, shielding my face against the light that I could still see against my shut eyes.
Rhys let out a startled laugh. […]
I wiped at my face, and when I pulled my hands down, I gaped. […] Splattered star-spirit. I didn’t know if I should be horrified or amused. Or disgusted.
This is fun when you remember that ACOTAR hasn’t really bothered distinguishing how sentient spirits are.
Another spirit flies into Rhysand’s face, splattering him with pale green glowing stuff too. Feyre playfully takes some and traces a star shape on top of his palm, then realizes with a shock that “I’d – painted again.” ACOMAF kills the mood.
His eyes fell on my mouth. “I’m wishing I could take back that kiss Under the Mountain.”
I sometimes forgot that kiss, when he’d done it to keep Amarantha from knowing that Tamlin and I had been in the forgotten hall […] “I didn’t make it pleasant for you, and I was jealous and pissed off, and I knew you hated me.” […] He was silent for long enough that I lifted my head to scan his face […] “You want to dance?” He rasped, his fingers curling around mine.
I pointed with my chin toward the celebration below. “Down there – with them.” Where the music beckoned, where life beckoned.
He said softly, “I am… very glad I met you, Feyre.”
They don’t kiss.