A Court of Wings and Ruin Chapter 48:
Feyre tells us all about how she and Rhys cuddled all night long (he wrapped one wing around her) and it was soooo much deeper than sex, and she stared at him AND LOVES HIM SO MUCH.
She tells us all this after pointing out how Mor doesn’t look all that happy after her wild night with Helion. We know it’s wild because Feyre and Rhys had to put…sound shields up around their room.
Cassian and Azriel were apparently out all night, but they return in time for Cassian to give Mor shit.
“You look terrible— Helion keep you up all night?”
She threw her spoon at him. Then her porridge.
Cassian caught the first and shielded against the other, his Siphon blazing like an awakening ember.
That is the most dramatic description of blocking yourself from thrown porridge that I never in my life saw coming.
“Helion wanted you to join,” she mildly replied, refilling her tea. “Quite badly.”
“Maybe next time,” Cassian said, dropping into the seat beside me. “How’s your sister?”
I hope he’s being serious. That would be cool. If I had to ship anyone in this terrible series, it would be Cassian/Azriel, so if this is a true clue that Cassian might be bi or pan, I am here for it.
I didn’t ask where he and Azriel had been all night. If only because I wasn’t sure Mor wanted to hear the answer.
[…]
She hadn’t asked where he’d been all night and morning, and Azriel had volunteered nothing. But he didn’t seem inclined to ignore her, at least.
I am so fucking sick of these two. It’s been hundreds of years, how are they not bored to death of going through these motions repeatedly. This is honestly so so stupid. For hundreds of years Mor and Azriel aren’t supposed to sleep with other people but also NEVER DISCUSS IF THEY HAVE FEELS OR NOT.
Feyre moves us right along to the most important detail of the day: what everyone is wearing.
If I was a fallen star yesterday, today Rhys’s mysterious clothier had made me into the Queen of the Night.
The rest of my companions had dressed accordingly.
Yesterday, we had been ourselves— open and friendly and caring. Today we showed the other courts what we’d unleash upon our enemies.
A FASHION SHOW THEY WILL NEVER FORGET!
Thesan was the only person who bothered to greet us when we passed through that wisteria-draped archway, but he took one look at our attire, our faces, and muttered a prayer to the Cauldron.
I mean, same.
The other lords arrive, and it’s basically a repeat of the last meeting with lots of barbs and arguing. BUT THEN NESTA STARTS THROWING UP!!!
Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face.
Everyone is like OMG WHAT IS WRONG! Lords whip their healing powers out, but they’re like, SHIT IT’S NOT A DISEASE!
So it can only be one thing.
Nesta rested her head against Mor’s shoulder, her breathing ragged. “Something is wrong,” she managed to say. “Not with me. Not me.” But with the Cauldron.
GASP! IS THE CAULDRON PREGNANT?!?!??!
Nesta moaned, body tensing as if she’d vomit again. But then we felt it.
A shuddering through the earth. Through air and stone and green, growing things.
As if some great god blew a breath across the land.
No it turns out Hybern used the Cauldron to destroy the wall. Whoopsies!
Nesta keeps throwing up. I just wanted you to know that because I’m pretty sure AMAZING READER REBECCA once pointed out to us how often everyone vomits, and she was right. The rightest of right. In the history of the world I have never see someone be so right.
Rhys addresses the room full of idiots:
“The wall is gone. Shattered. Across Prythian, and on the continent.” He said again, as if convincing himself, “We were too late— too slow. Hybern just destroyed the wall.”
If only you all could have picked a venue sooner!!