Previously, Feyre tried to get the Bone Carver on-board for their war, but he wants them to get some mirror from the Bad!Night Court otherwise he wants to stay in prison to avoid his fucked up siblings who are death gods or something.
A Court of Wings and Ruin Chapter 24:
Everyone prepares for their journey to go to the evil part of the Night Court. But first, Feyre goes to visit her sisters. She finds them in the library; only Nesta acknowledges her, Elain is sadly staring out the window.
Feyre and Nesta instantly butt heads.
“Where’s your menagerie of friends?”
I leveled a steely look back at her. “Those friends have offered you shelter and comfort.” And training— or whatever Amren was doing. “Are you ready for tonight?”
I mean, that was a good question from Nesta, and one of her least sassy ones, so Feyre’s response seems kind of extreme.
Nesta affirms she is ready for tonight and then goes back to reading. We have been reading this series for 500 years, and still to this day I don’t understand why she is so rude to Feyre.
Elain tells Feyre she can see very far away and hear heartbeats now.
Even wasted away by grief and despair, Elain’s beauty was remarkable. Hers was a face that could bring kings to their knees. And yet there was no joy in it. No light. No life.
She said, “I can hear the sea. Even at night. Even in my dreams. The crashing sea— and the screams of a bird made of fire.”
A PHOENIX? I hope a phoenix comes in and wins the war for them. Why the hell not…Oh…is Lucien the phoenix? Or something? I mean he’s the fire guy. Anyway, Elain is speaking in riddles because she is da-pressed.
Feyre asks to speak to Nesta privately. While they are discussing how much Elain is eating and how Nesta doesn’t want to be a warrior for some reason, Lucien shows up. Feyre decides to hop into his brain.
And then I was in his body, his head.
Too thin.
She must not be eating at all.
I’m so tired of the male love interest obsessing over how the female love interest is eating.
Touch her, smell her, taste her—
The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.
Ug stop.
The other sister— the viper— was a possibility, but one he was willing to risk. Aside from talking to the shadowsinger yesterday— which had been just about as unnerving as he’d expected, though Azriel seemed like a decent enough male— he’d been cooped up in this wind-blasted House for two days. The thought of another one had been enough to make him risk Rhysand’s wrath.
I love how suddenly we’re in Lucien’s head, which was first-person, but now it’s third-person, and he’s just randomly having this whole internal aside about his meeting with Azriel. How convenient!
Then Lucien has long, expository thoughts about how Elain is nothing like Jesminda (his former love). How the fuck would he know that? He knows FUCK ALL about Elain. He starts talking about how fun and carefree Jesminda is, and it’s like…bro…Elain is obviously super depressed.
But I really liked this line:
She had chosen him.
Elain had been … thrown at him.
This is something I’m actually interested in seeing explored.
After this nice line, we talk about carpets for awhile.
He tried to sound casual— comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication.
Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste.
This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.
I guess Maas got tired of writing, “MY MATE!” but realised she had nothing else for Lucien to think about.
Then Lucien actually gives me the feels:
Didn’t want to admit that he found the city beautiful.
That the circle of people who now claimed to be Feyre’s new family … It was what, long ago, he’d once thought life at Tamlin’s court would be.
I had a friendship end recently, and I’m still dealing with the disillusion of what our friendship was and what it meant. And so I think I’m going to over relate to Lucien a lot about his Tamlin feels this book. More of this and less interior decorating discussion, please!
Then he just goes back to thinking about how gorgeous Elain is and how she needs to eat.
She reminds Lucien that she was to be married, and of course he feels PRIMAL MALE RAGE!
He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”
I hate this male mate shit. Make it stop, please.
Feyre finally gets out of Lucien’s head, and she and Nesta tell him to go away. He mansplains that they need to get Elain out of the house, so Feyre declares that…her sisters will now be moving to her house. Mission accomplished?
Rhys, Cassian and Azriel show up ASAP to help carry her sisters (and Lucien!) to the other house. I don’t know why that made me laugh so much, but there you go.
At the townhouse, Azriel takes Elain to the garden, and Feyre laments the fact that they aren’t mates. This prompts a discussion between Feyre and Rhys about how you apparently can reject your mate.
“There is choice. And sometimes, yes— the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some … preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”
This better be Chekhov’s mates and someone is gonna get MATE!REJECTED! Otherwise this is stupid, and I don’t care. Rhys also takes the time to point out how for “the males…It can drive them mad.” I’m not surprised. Are you surprised?
He assures Feyre that in the progressive Night Court (the good Night Court, I presume), a woman who rejects the bond would be protected, but elsewhere she might be killed. Again, I’m not surprised. Are you surprised?
Rhys assuages Feyre’s guilt about going into Lucien’s mind again, and tells her if she feels guilty just don’t keep doing it. Seems fair.
Oh, we also find out in this chapter apparently…Nesta brought death back with her?
“I made it give something back,” she said with terrifying quiet. The Cauldron. The hairs along my arms rose. Nesta’s gaze flicked to the carpet, then to a spot on the wall. “I wish to go to my room.”
The best part is that everyone freaks out about this like, “OMG but her eyes were icy but also hot, but like omg icy hot ice? Ya know? It’s just gotta be death!”
Rhys is like, “Only Nesta” and I’m like…Really? Just because she is inexplicably rude to people, they’re like, “THAT GIRL WOULD TOTES BRING DEATH BACK WITH HER LOL!”