#chapter snark

The conversation ranged from the people they knew, matches and teams for sports I’d never heard of (apparently, Amren was a vicious, obsessive supporter of one), new shops, music they’d heard, clubs they favored … Not a mention of Hybern or the threats we faced—no doubt from secrecy, but I had a feeling it was also because tonight, this time together … they did not want that terrible, hideous presence intruding. As if they were all just ordinary citizens—even Rhys. As if they weren’t the most powerful people in this court, maybe in all of Prythian. And no one, absolutely no one, on the street balked or paled or ran.

Okay, it's a long quote, but. I feel it articulates a lot of the problems this book has with writing convincing governments/leader-type characters. And there's a few different things to it. First of all, this:

...people they knew, matches and teams for sports I’d never heard of [...], new shops, music they’d heard, clubs they favored …

Now, apart from being vague and generic af. It's absolutely true that leaders are all people, and thus have interests like this. They even discuss them with their fellow leaders from time to time. And, yes, it's even not that weird that they wouldn't be discussing things like Hybern when they're just out and about, because yeah, security and whatnot. But... well, I can't help but read it as a little performative? Both from the book itself (trying too hard to convince us that these are Totally Relatable and Normal characters) and also cause like, a lot of leaders leverage this kind of stuff performatively in our world as well.... Australia's previous PM, Scuntmo Scott "I don't hold a hose mate" Morrison, was kinda notorious for it. The whole daggy sports-and-beer dad image he had going on.

This image was taken during covid, btw, after he'd just shut down every other public event, except for the one NRL game he was going to for the team he liked. Dude was proper scum, but liked to hide it with this kind of oh-so-relatable image. How good's the footy, right? How do you do, fellow plebs?

It's kind of the same energy here. Amren's such a vicious supporter of this unspecified team of an unspecified variety of sportsball! She's still a terrible person.

Further.

—no doubt from secrecy, but I had a feeling it was also because tonight, this time together … they did not want that terrible, hideous presence intruding. As if they were all just ordinary citizens—even Rhys.

While it's true that they are, indeed, all just people, leaders do also have a certain amount of responsibility. There's times where they've got to buckle down and do things that ordinary people simply do not have to, and imminent war is one of those times. There's diplomacy to be attempted, preparations to be made, intel to be gathered, morale to boost, PR to wrangle... and that's all before the actual fighting starts. And while it's not wrong for leaders to try and relax where they can amidst all this... well, it's not the first time the book has insinuated that running the country is the kind of thing that can be just "left in the office," so to speak. I've pulled it out a few times now. Imminent war is definitely not the kind of situation where a raucous, public night-on-the-town is appropriate leader behaviour.

And the whole "leave in the office" attitude becomes even more implausible for leaders the further back in history you go. The leaders who visibly partied while war (or whatever other crisis) was looming? Yeah, they're the ones who generally got assassinated or overthrown. People don't like it when their leaders look like they don't give a shit. "Let them eat cake," and all that...

.....well, I say that, but modern politics is sure trying to give me a run for my money....

And no one, absolutely no one, on the street balked or paled or ran.

This, though, is just fucking stupid. Why should they? Is Rhys known for just wandering through the streets and snotting people? Why are you bamboozled by this behaviour, Feyre? Why are you presenting this as something we should be surprised by, or find impressive?

As if they weren’t the most powerful people in this court, maybe in all of Prythian.

Ohhh, right, scary-scary dangerous and Primal Dominance and ugh, I hate this shit so fucking much.

Awed, perhaps a little intimidated, but … no fear. It was so unusual that I kept silent, merely observing them—their world. The normalcy that they each fought so hard to preserve. That I had once raged against, resented.

The normalcy they fought so hard to preserve...... at the expense of literally everyone else in Prythian. The Most Powerfullest High Lord Ever chose to use his power to protect this one (already safe) city from Amarantha, instead of using the "dregs" of his power (which, by his own admission, were still enough to forcibly mind-control and memory-wipe everyone who knew about Velaris for decades - hardly trivial magic) to try and stop her, or even to protect the rest of his own damn court. That is what you resented, Feyre. That is what you raged against. Not the fact that Velaris is nice, but the fact that its niceness was given even more protection, despite being already safe, at the cost of everyone else in Prythian. Everyone else who you literally died to save, remember!

But, no. No, the brainwashing is complete. Rhys has convinced her that Velaris is just that damn special, that it's worth the lives of everyone else in the country to protect. They're all just plebs and faceless NPCs, after all. Not real people. Only the privileged-ass people in Velaris are real people. This book is actual cancer sometimes, I swear to god. I hate saying things like that, but there's really no other way to describe it.

But there was no place like this in the world. Not so serene. So loved by its people and its rulers.

Yeah, not a single other place in the entire world is kinda peaceful and loved by the ones who live in it........................ that's why it's worth throwing them all under the bus to protect it................ I mean, whatever helps them sleep at night, right?

The other side of the city was even more crowded, with patrons in finery out to attend the many theaters we passed.

And where do the patrons get their finery, if the entire city is closed off from the world, hmm? I'm sure I've already ranted about this, but. You have to pick one: a complete secret that nobody else outside of the city knows about, or able to receive trade by sea. You can't have both. Traders go places, and they talk. "And where are you shipping all these fancy clothes off to?" "Errrrrrrr, nowhere....." And if they lie and say a different port, then any unrelated discussion between people from those two places runs the risk of exposing everything. It just isn't possible.

I’d never seen a theater before—never seen a play, or a concert, or a symphony. In our ramshackle village, we’d gotten mummers and minstrels at best—herds of beggars yowling on makeshift instruments at worst.

And absolutely no thought is given to the fact that her village had no theatres because it was small and poor, and was poor because some asshole was hoarding all the money, no. It's just because her (human) village was a shithole, compared to the Better-Than-You city of Perfect Velaris.

Fuck, this is going to be another chapter where I want to pull out every line, isn't it? Rampant classism and Rhys's bullshit do that to me, I guess.

More description of how awesome and lively Velaris is.

How much had I missed in these months of despair and numbness? But no longer. The lifeblood of Velaris thrummed through me, and in rare moments of quiet, I could have sworn I heard the clash of the sea, clawing at the distant cliffs.

Ugh. Just... like, yeah, if your depression is caused by something like isolation, then going somewhere more lively might help. But it might also exacerbate it, in an alone-in-the-crowd kind of way. I think it's far more likely that it's Rhys's mind-fuckery that's responsible for this.

Also... hmm. I don't know that's necessarily why it's bothering me. It's more like... well, I've gone on at length about all the horrible things Rhys has done, and how unfairly the narrative has been framing Tamlin by comparison. But here, it's rewarding Feyre, on a meta level, for doing what Rhys wants. And it makes it so that any criticisms of Rhys's behaviour can (in theory) be shut doing by pointing to it and going "no, see? It worked! He cured her depression!" And just completely ignores how utterly inappropriate the whole thing is, how Rhys's "success" here is utterly undeserved. The fact that the narrative contorted itself to make his selfishness and manipulations have a positive outcome doesn't actually mean he did the right thing, book. It just means he's a Mary Sue who the book will allow to do no wrong.

Eventually, we entered a small restaurant beside the river, built into the lower level of a two-story building, the whole space bedecked in greens and golds and barely big enough to fit all of us. And three sets of Illyrian wings.

See? Do you see what I fucking mean????? Enough with the god damn wings already! We'll assume they fit unless you tell us otherwise! And besides:

As you can see, neither the bird nor the bat's wings take up all that much extra space when they're tucked in. Unless the boys are walking around while T-posing with their wings, I really don't think it would ever be as big a deal as the book makes it out to be. Just. A truly unholily weird fixation on big wings.

But the owner knew [the Inner Circle], and kissed them each on the cheek, even Rhysand.

The book wants us to think it's because Velaris is so wonderful and Rhys is such an awesome High Lord, unlike the Evil Tamlin. I'm inclined to think that this owner is just sucking up to the High Lord who is known for his nepotism, though. It's the only way you get anywhere in his court, after all.

No doubt [the pot-plants were] spelled to keep from dying in the winter—just as the warmth of the restaurant kept the chill from disturbing us or any of those dining in the open air at the river’s edge.

Something something, have to follow the laws of nature...

I’d never had such food—warm and rich and savory and spicy. Like it filled not only my stomach, but that lingering hole in my chest, too.

Do you get it yet, guys? Velaris is just so awesome that it's magically curing Feyre's depression. That alone means it was worth sacrificing all of Prythian for! Yes, even though it was already safe! The stinky Spring Court could never, after all.

[The owner was] chatting with Rhys about the latest shipment of spices that had come to the Palaces.

How did the ships find the secret city that nobody else knows about, though? Not just once, but many times, given this is just the "latest" shipment? Oh, right, they found it because the book just does not give a fuck, of course. Silly me.

There's banter, while Rhys promises to magically stop the inevitable war inflation of spice prices and the shopkeeper does absolutely nothing to convince me that she's not a nepo-hopeful.

The happiness on [the shopkeeper's] face, the satisfaction that only a day of hard work doing something you love could bring, hit me like a stone.

Feyre, you literally just told us that she beamed because the High Lord she's sucking up to said he liked her food. Don't try and rewrite what we've just seen with our own eyes.

But no, no, that's all just a wind up so Feyre can further hammer home how Velaris is curing her depression, by telling us that she now "remembers" that feeling from when she used to "paint from morning until night," and the only thing I can say is... bitch, when? You spent the start of last book whinging about how you were too poor to paint, then spent the rest of the book whinging about how you sucked at painting and couldn't possibly paint the awesomeness that is Prythian. And then spent this book telling us you were too depressed to paint. Literally when have you 1) ever actually painted morning until night, and 2) enjoyed it? About the only time it could have happened is during the time skips while you were dagging around the Spring Court in book one... huh...

But no, no, Feyre gets special cake for saying nice things about the food, and then much fuss is made about Amren being brought a goblet of blood (after being served a whole plate of food she doesn't eat, and thus I can only assume is wasted. Why not just arrange for her to have blood from the start??).

Indeed, I almost asked Mor to roll me out of the restaurant by the time we were done and Rhys had paid the tab, despite the owner’s protests.

Oh yeah, this has got to be attempted sycophancy. No restaurant would try to refuse being paid for the fucking food they sell unless they thought they could get value elsewhere for it. They'd go bankrupt. Unless the book legitimately thinks its protagonists are so awesome that of course shops should be giving them freebies Just Because. It disturbs me that that is a distinct possibility. Both that anyone thinks anyone is special enough to deserve freebies in the first place, and that anyone thinks that these people, specifically, are the kind that deserve it. Absolutely wild.

Dancing. My body groaned in protest and I glanced about for an ally to shoot down this ridiculous idea. But Azriel—Azriel said, his eyes wholly on Mor, “I’m in.”

Why are you saying that as if it's so surprising that Azriel wants to go dancing, Feyre? You know jack shit about him except that he's quiet and has a Tragic Past. Plenty of quiet people like dancing.

But, no, this is just to tease the whole Mor/Azriel/Cassian thing and also have everyone banter.

[Azriel's] broad chest expanded with a deep breath

Ngl, I always forget that Azriel is meant to be ripped as well. Like Rhys, he basically looks like an anime twink in my mind. A bizarre cross between Lorenz Hellman Gloucester from Fire Emblem, and the student council president from that magical boys anime from a few years back. The one with the really long name. I think the only one that I can actually picture as ripped is Cassian. And I'm 99% sure I've seen the way I picture him somewhere before, but can't for the life of me remember where. It's identical to how I picture Hunt from CC, btw, because they're basically the same character. Anyway.

Feyre doesn't want to go dancing, and looks to Amren for help, but she's gone. This prompts Rhys (who read her intention to look for Amren from her mind, obvs) to banter about Amren drinking blood.

I tried not to shudder as I faced him. “Why blood?” “It doesn’t seem polite to ask.”

Translation: the author thinks it sounds more scary-dangerous and mysterious this way, but the answer is obviously because she's a vampire. And until the book gets over itself and gives us evidence to the contrary, that will be my headcanon. Vagueness can work against you sometimes, book.

Anyway, Rhys says he's not going dancing, he's going to walk home, and of course this is framed as just being oh-so-gentlemanly to Feyre, even though, again, he would have read this desire of hers from her mind. Without asking. She never said it out loud.

Feyre and Rhys walk for a bit, before stopping to look at how pretty the artists quarter is, because haven't you heard? Feyre's just about done with her depression arc, Velaris cured it.

“This is my favorite view in the city,” Rhys said,

Of course it is. The one that would be so personally meaningful to Feyre. What a coincidence. You know, if it weren't because they're so clearly ~*~soulmates~*~, I'd almost say it was as if he could read her mind and was manipulating her with salesman tactics.... Rhys has given us no other indication that he appreciates art, after all...

[F]“Then why are both your houses on the other side of the river?”[...] [R]“Because I wanted a quiet street—so I could visit this clamor whenever I wished and then have a home to retreat to.”

Spoken like a true privileged asshole.

[F]“You could have just reordered the city.” “Why the hell would I change one thing about this place?”

Er, because change is sometimes necessary? Like yeah, going in and dicking around just for the sake of it isn't good, but to refuse to change anything at all? Places have tried that throughout history - Edo Period Japan, for example. It rarely ends well for them. But, I suppose, to acknowledge that something about Velaris could be changed for the better would imply that it's not absolutely perfect in its current state, and we obviously can't have that. It wouldn't be Better than the Spring Court, otherwise. Never mind that it has literal slums in the fifth book...

Well, enough of that, we spend some time angsting about how Hard it is to be High Lord, and then establishing that Rhys is a sexually competent man who has had many, many lovers (not Amren tho. No, I don't know why we need to specify this), but also, he's still a virgin so far as long-term, committed relationships go, so it's all g. None of them would have wanted to marry him anyway, because it's Just So Dangerous. Even though he's the Most Powerful High Lord Ever and could definitely protect them from that danger......

But! Now it's time for the big questions!

I still didn’t know the full story, but I asked, “Why? Why are you [the Night Court] hated? Why keep the truth of this place secret? It’s a shame no one knows about it—what good you do here.”

Hoo boy. Here we go.

Essentially, the Night Court was once legitimately a Court of Nightmares, but one random High Lord staged a coup (which he somehow hid from the entire rest of the world), killing all the Designated Evil characters, and built Velaris instead. There were many spells to explain bullshit like why it still gets trade despite being secret from everyone.

“But along the way, despite his best intentions, darkness grew again—not as bad as it had once been … But bad enough that there is a permanent divide within my court. We allow the world to see the other half, to fear them—so that they might never guess this place thrives here. And we allow the Court of Nightmares to continue, blind to Velaris’s existence, because we know that without them, there are some courts and kingdoms that might strike us. And invade our borders to discover the many, many secrets we’ve kept from the other High Lords and courts these millennia.”

So...... essentially, you let the Court of Nightmares exist to be your meatshields against the other courts, to protect all the "secrets" (knowledge and wealth, I assume) that you're hoarding in Velaris and refusing to share? Yeah, wow, I wonder why there's a permanent divide in your court. Fucking mystery, that one. Who woulda thunk that forced segregation leads to divides?

Also... the implication here is that the Court of Nightmares cops all the fallout from the other courts. They're the ones that get attacked, or politically disadvantaged, or whatever. Literally sacrificing half your entire court, just so that Velaris can... what? Keep living their privileged, wealthy existence, without any threat of harm? The people of the Hewn City deserve to suffer and die and live under tyranny (Rhys's own tyranny, as he will eventually remind us. Not yet tho, that might make new readers think he's a bad person) so that those in Velaris never have to feel uncomfy? Just what is so fucking special about this damn city???? "Oh it's pretty and quaint and has artists and-" yes, and?????? Many places are pretty and quaint and have artists???

Of course, the book expects us to think this is all fine and dandy, because it's tried to establish that actually, the people of the Hewn City are all evil meaniepantses and also not Main Characters, so it's fine if they're turned into sacrificial lambs en masse. They're evil, so who cares, right? Book. Book, book, book. An entire city cannot be uniformly evil. It's full of individuals, first and foremost. Yeah, sure, they might have an evil government, or a high concentration of evil wizards, or some cultural practices which might be deemed evil by outside parties. And especially in fantasy, we tend to give leeway for that sort of thing.

But, as with most places, the overwhelming majority of people in the Hewn City are going to be just ordinary people. Living their lives, not bothering anyone else. The book wants us to think that, because the nobles are all evil and corrupt, that makes it okay to condemn the whole city. It doesn't. It really doesn't. And, again - Rhysand is the one inflicting the fucking tyranny. He goes there later and shows us, tells us all about how he cows the Hewn City to his whim. It exists in this state because he, as it's unquestionably feared tyrant leader, fucking allows it.

And it's like, there's no reason the Hewn City has to be such a shithole to protect Velaris? There's no reason it couldn't be a perfectly nice city, but still be the only city other people know about, so that's why it gets attacked? Velaris can still be secret even if the Court of Nightmares doesn't exist? But, no. No. Rhysand keeps all these people locked in their mountain (hey Feyre, remember your trauma about people being locked in mountains? No? Okay..), with no option to leave. He either does nothing to discourage evil policies, or actively prevents good policies from being implemented - likely both. It beggars belief that even every noble in Hewn City is uniformly evil, after all, especially since Mor, a character we're (meant to be) sympathetic to, is from there. Already, we have proof that there's at least one non-evil noble from there. It stands to reason that there'd be others. Are they not trying to make changes? Not a single change, in 500 years? The only way that seems possible is if there's someone with immense power (like, I don't know, the Most Powerful High Lord Ever, or something) forcing things to remain the way they are. Actively stifling any and all attempts at change and reform. Letting unsavoury policies run rampant. This is all on Rhysand, and no amount of bleating otherwise from the book will change that.

But, and once again, this is very important. We still haven't seen Rhys flexing his control over the Hewn City. That little tumour of a scene hasn't happened yet. So, for a new reader, they're being told all this about the Hewn City without the knowledge that they're basically at Rhys's mercy. It's being presented as though the evil of the Court of Nightmares is something inevitable, unchangeable, completely out of Rhys's hands..... and that is just patently not true. But it washes Rhys's hands of any responsibility before we even begin to see the full picture. Again, these books are an absolute masterclass in manipulative writing.

“So truly none of the others know? In the other courts?” “Not a soul. You will not find it on a single map, or mentioned in any book beyond those written here. Perhaps it is our loss to be so contained and isolated, but … ” He gestured to the city around us. “My people do not seem to be suffering much for it.”

No. No, they're not suffering. And do you know why, Rhys? BECAUSE YOU'VE OUTSOURCED THE SUFFERING TO THE HEWN CITY YOU ACTUAL FUCKING PUSTULE! OF COURSE YOUR PEOPLE AREN'T FUCKING SUFFERING WHEN YOU'VE THROWN THE ENTIRE REST OF YOUR COURT UNDER THE BUS TO MAKE IT SO! HOW CAN YOU SAY THIS WITH A STRAIGHT FACE? HOW CAN THE BOOK SAY THIS WITH A STRAIGHT FACE? IT'S SO FUCKING HYPOCRITICAL I JUST CANNOT

I hate him. I hate him so much. No character in any of Maas's series is worse than this guy.

Also. It just occurred to me that maybe making Rhys half-Illyrian was just to forestall accusations of his obvious racism? "No, I can't be racist, I'm half-Illyrian" yeah, and you're still a segregationist ass so?????? And the reason he can summon and dismiss his wings at will is because Maas didn't actually want him to be one of those filthy Lesser Faeries, so she just gets rid of it every time he doesn't need it for pity reasons. Or wing fetish reasons.

Well, the book doesn't want us thinking about that, time to switch topics to whether Azriel feels bad about torturing people. Not that the book will use the word "torture", of course. We might realise that everyone involved is an awful person otherwise.

Rhys loosed a breath. “It’s hard to tell with him—and he’d never tell me. I’ve witnessed Cassian rip apart opponents and then puke his guts up once the carnage stopped, sometimes even mourn them.

Oh, well, that makes it perfectly acceptable then, doesn't it? "Hey, sorry I ripped your family member apart. No, really, I am sorry, I even puked afterwards!"

Just?????? Does the book think puking is some kind of get-out-of-doing-the-wrong-thing-free card or something? That's what it is, isn't it? Oh my dear fucking god. Weaponised fucking puking, both in-universe and on a meta level. Now all I can think about is them jamming their fingers down their own throats whenever they need to trick people into thinking they feel genuine remorse. This is actually insane.

Oh dear god. I thought when they started walking again, we'd get a bit of a break from rage-inducing things, but. I was wrong. Fuck was I wrong.

I was about to beg Rhys to fly me home when I caught the strands of music pouring from a group of performers outside a restaurant. My hands slackened at my sides. A reduced version of the symphony I’d heard in a chill dungeon, when I had been so lost to terror and despair that I had hallucinated—hallucinated as this music poured into my cell … and kept me from shattering.

Yes. Now is the time where Feyre realises that Rhys is the one who sent her that music. You know, Rhys, who was her enemy then, who tortured her into accepting his bargain, who drugged and assaulted her every single night..... Rhys, who we've been told is the Most Powerful High Lord Ever, who has uber-mind-control powers, so strong that the people he's interfering with don't even know he's there. And when she heard that music, she also saw an image of a palace, a moonstone palace, kinda like the one above Hewn City, actually, and her head was filled with thoughts that "the one she loved" was there.........

Oh wow. What could she have to say about this obvious and staggering violation!

And once more, the beauty of it hit me, the layering and swaying, the joy and peace.

...............just. There are no words. None whatsoever.

The music swelled and built. I’d seen a palace in the sky when I’d hallucinated—a place between sunset and dawn … a house of moonstone pillars. “I saw the Night Court.” He glanced sidelong at me. “I didn’t send those images to you.”

Uh. THEN WHERE THE FUCK ELSE DID THEY COME FROM, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS???? WHERE THE FUCK ELSE COULD THEY HAVE POSSIBLY COME FROM???? BECAUSE FEYRE WAS A FRAGILE LITTLE HUMAN THEN, WITHOUT HER RESURRECTED FAERIE POWERS TO GIVE HER DAEMATI SHIT OR WHATEVER FUCKING EXCUSE YOU'RE TRYING TO USE TO JUSTIFY HER SEEING THINGS FROM YOU NOW. ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY SHE PULLED IT HERSELF FROM THE BOND??? THE BOND THAT SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW EXISTED THEN, THAT SERVED ONLY AS YOUR SPYWARE INTO HER MIND???? SHE JUST COINCI-FUCKING-DENTALLY PULLED AN IMAGE OF THE NIGHT COURT AND THE THOUGHTS "that's where the person I love is" FROM YOUR FUCKING HEAD ALL BY HERSELF, DID SHE??? IS THAT WHAT YOU EXPECT US TO FUCKING BELIEVE, RHYSAND?????

If this isn't an admission that he did it all on purpose, I don't know what is. He doesn't give any further explanation about where they might have come from, mind. Just "oh, I totally didn't do it."

Of course, Feyre fucking believes him. No. She doesn't care.

I didn’t care. “Thank you. For everything—for what you did. Then … and now.”

And note, they still haven't fucking addressed the whole drugging and assaulting thing. Literally just not mentioned it at all. Like the book knows it's fucking indefensible, so it just hopes we'll forget about it if it doesn't say anything.

“Even after the Weaver? After this morning with my trap for the Attor?” My nostrils flared. “You ruin everything.”

And look, the shitcunt still isn't satisfied, he's even fishing for extra forgiveness for his latest bullshit! Twisting her words around to absolve him of even more! Go eat lead, Rhys. Gut yourself. Jump into a furnace. I literally don't care at this point, I just want you fucking gone.

I could learn to love it, I realized. The flying.

That's called stockholm syndrome, Feyre. Or rather, it's your brain's desperate attempt to cope with a situation you can't escape from.

There's a scene break, but if you had any hope that any of this shit was going to get even a sliver of the attention it deserves:

I was reading in bed, listening to the merry chatter of the toasty birch fire across the room,

let me dash that hope immediately. We suffer this shit together.

Rhysand is texting her again.

I might be a shameless flirt, but at least I don’t have a horrible temper. You should come tend to my wounds from our squabble in the snow. I’m bruised all over thanks to you.

Oh, the squabble where she was retaliating after you USED HER AS LIVE BAIT WITHOUT EVEN FUCKING TELLING HER???? Fuck. When can we launch him into the sun? It's the only way I'll survive with my sanity intact, I think.

[F]Go lick your wounds and leave me be. [...] [R]I’d much rather you licked my wounds for me.

And look, he even acts like a fucking tinder creep who can't take a hint.

My heart pounded, faster and faster, and a strange sort of rush went through my veins as I read the sentence again and again. A challenge.

I... no? It's not a fucking challenge? Just bog-standard creeping? What the fuck is it with this book and thinking that inappropriate flirting is a "challenge?"

They begin sexting.

I wrote back, Let’s hope my licking is better than yours. I remember how horrible you were at it Under the Mountain. Lie. He’d licked away my tears when I’d been a moment away from shattering.

....................................................................this is the closest the book has come to acknowledging *any* of the shit he pulled Under the Mountain. And it's not the drugging and assault part, of course, but some other part when Rhys was being creepy and invasive. And it's just................ used as fuel for flirty banter. As if it's just one of those quirky things that happened. I.......... I........

Of all the bullshit ways to be insensitive...... I don't have the energy to rant about it. And the chapter is nearly done. God, this one was a slog, wasn't it? So many rage-inducing topics in such quick succession.

He’d done it to keep me distracted—keep me angry. Because anger was better than feeling nothing; because anger and hatred were the long-lasting fuel in the endless dark of my despair. The same way that music had kept me from breaking.

Hatred. Hatred. All of my hatred, so much so that I'm actually feeling kind of numb, because I think my brain is shutting itself down in an act of self-preservation. Because causing anger was really the value move UtM, instead of just, I don't know, fucking helping her or something. The brainwashing is complete. Feyre's mind belongs wholly to Rhysand. She'll spout whatever bullshit he wants now.

Lucien had come to patch me up a few times, but no one risked quite so much in keeping me not only alive, but as mentally intact as I could be considering the circumstances.

LUCIEN GOT FUCKING FLOGGED SAVING YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS, FEYRE! AND THROWN IN THE CAGE WITH YOU FOR YOUR SECOND TASK! WHICH IS FAR MORE HARM THAN NOBLE FUCKING RHYSAND WAS EVER SUBJECTED TO FROM THE "HELP" HE GAVE YOU. SHUT UP. SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP!

Ugh, more tone-deaf fucking sexting, a vulgar gesture, Feyre has a nightmare about the Attor but it's all g because she doesn't wake up, close chapter. Fucking finally. Rhysand needs to die in a fire. But, for now at least, I am done here. Freedom. Until the next post.

Inspired By True Events.

Keep this in mind, folks. 

Because...

The story you are about to read is the result of Biblical and historical research about Noah’s flood and the ancient Near Eastern (ANE) context of the book of Genesis. 

Translation: Because I did some research, it means that the novel is deep and elevated lit-ra-choor. 

While I engage in significant creative license and speculation, 

....

..................

......................................

That’s a verbose way of saying “I created a work of fiction.” 

all of it is rooted in an affirmation of what I believe is the theological and spiritual intent of the Bible. 

Even though there are countless Bible interpretations.

You found all of the "hidden truths"and know the "correct" way to read the Bible.

But silly me. 

This is the same person who spews vitriol at movies that don't conform to his beliefs and wrote a paper called Calvinism and the Bible. 

In the document, Godawa insists that "Calvinism is simply Biblical Christianity" and how the five points of Calvinism are “truly Biblical doctrines, then most of us western American Christians have been sold a bill of goods as to what the Gospel really is."

For those who are leery of such a “novel” approach,

Like some other writers, Godawa believes that he has a Wildean wit.

let them consider that the traditional Sunday school image of Noah as a little old white-bearded farmer

I gotta call bullshit.

The traditional Sunday school image depicted Noah as being a white man.

It didn't emphasize that he was an old farmer.

building the ark alone with his sons is itself a speculative cultural bias.

It's been a while since I've been to CCD…

But I don't remember them ever discussing at great length on how the ark was built.

They don't deal in the minutia.

Instead they focused on educating people about their faith.

And the whole "speculative cultural bias" comment is rich...

Coming from a man who preaches in his fiction and does evangelizing podcasts with his friends.

The Bible actually says very little about Noah.

Instead we get lengthy details about who begat who and what tribe they came from.

We don’t know what he did for a living before the Flood or even where he lived.  

Which is why the Midrash aggadah was written.

According to MJL, Midrash aggadah interprets biblical narrative, exploring questions of ethics or theology, or creating homilies and parables based on the text.

For instance, one of the best known midrashes is the story about Abraham.

It states while Abraham was a young child in Mesopotamia, he was smashing idols.

This story suggests that God didn't randomly pick Abraham.

Instead, God knew that Abraham would be receptive to His voice.

How do we know whether he was just a simple farmer or a tribal warrior?

The answer?

We will most likely never know for certain.

And secondly, who cares? It is minutiae.

Oh wait.

The author is going to bestow us the answer.

Genesis 9:2 says Noah “began to be a man of the soil” after the Flood, not before it.

Genesis 9:2 says this:

The fear and dread of you will fall on all the beasts of the earth, and on all the birds in the sky, on every creature that moves along the ground, and on all the fish in the sea; they are given into your hands.

(This comes from the New International Version.)

And I checked two other translations: the King James Version [KJV] and the English Standard Version [ESV].

They are the same as the first.

The passage about Noah becoming a farmer comes from Genesis 9: 20

Noah began to be a man of the soil, and he planted a vineyard. [ESV]

Noah, a man of the soil, proceeded to plant a vineyard. [NIV]

And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he planted a vineyard. [KJV]

So in conclusion:

If the world before the flood was full of wickedness and violence,

Because they would all fight evil physically.

It's not like righteous men would ever combat evil by using their words or practicing non violence.

Noah would not have been that different from Abraham,

Or…

He could have been a prophet whose words inspired others.

Nobody knows for certain what Noah did prior to the flood.

who farmed, did business and led his family and servants in war against kings.

Man, Godawa is obsessed with the idea of righteous warriors.

We know very little about primeval history,

There is a newfangled thing called archaeology.

but we do learn from archeological evidence that humanity was clearly tribal during the early ages when this story takes place.

Um…

The previous line belies the rest of the sentence.

Where's the editor?

Yet, nothing is written about Noah’s tribe in the Bible.

We also don't know anything about Jesus' childhood.

Your point being?

It would be modern individualistic prejudice to assume that Noah was a loner when everyone in that Biblical context was communal.

Who ever said that he was???

Is Godawa just making up arguments so he can tear them down?

Noah surely had a tribe.  

You already said that. Move along.

There is really no agreement as to the actual time and location of the event of the Flood.

And in other news…

Bears shit in the woods and the Pope is Catholic.

So B. Godawa lists some theories about when and where the Flood took place.

He thinks it is "Early Bronze Age Mesopotamian contexts" because of some passages in Genesis.

By the by... He doesn't mention any specific passages.

At some other time, I'll take a look at the appendix.

Because right now, I'm not in the mood to read an appendix that is about one hundred pages long.  

The Bible also says Noah built the ark.

And now for the following news bulletin:  

Adam and Eve lived in a place called the Garden of Eden.

Are we to believe that Noah built it all by himself?

Yes, if you take the Bible literally.

It doesn’t say. With his sons’ help? It doesn’t say.

But that very same book does say earlier that Cain “built a city” (some scholars believe it was Cain’s son Enoch).

Which scholars said that?

Because doing a quick Google search got me absolutely bupkis.

Instead, I got a bunch of websites that talked about Cain building a city and naming it after his son.

Are we to assume that he built an entire city by himself?

No lie… I had to check and see if Cain had a son named Enoch. (And he did).

Because after the bungling of a verse from Genesis, I wasn’t sure if this was another mistake.

As for Cain building an entire city single handedly?  I’m sure Christian fundamentalists would respond with “yes”.

My response would be “no” followed by:

Who helped Cain to build a city? A lot of golems? Some demons? Or did he hire a lot of people in the nearby area?

If Cain just hired a bunch of people, wouldn't the idea of God only creating two humans [a.k.a. Adam and Eve] be false?

How did Cain get the materials to build a city?

How would Cain know which materials would be good for building a city?

And why did Cain want to build a city in the first place?

Ridiculous.

Who knew that with one word, such disdain could drip from a person’s tongue? 

Cain or Enoch presided as a leader over the building of a city by a group of people,

Wait a tick…

Godawa previously said that it was Cain that built a city but some scholars believe it was Enoch.

And now he is stating that it could be Cain OR Enoch.

Does that mean that Godawa forgot what he wrote previously?

Or the man who sees himself as the Grand Poobah of Biblical Knowledge is finally admitting that he doesn’t have all the answers?

just as Noah probably did with his ark.  

So in other words, Noah just sat on his ass and barked orders at people.

Because as we all know, that is a great leadership style.

One of the only things Genesis says about Noah’s actual character is that he was “a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God” (Gen. 6:9).

Now a normal person would interpret this to mean that Noah was a good person who conversed with God.

But Noah Primeval turns Noah into a Gary Stu. (By the way, this will be revealed in future chapter snarks).

The New Testament clarifies this meaning by noting Noah as an “heir” and “herald” of righteousness by faith (Heb. 11:7; 2Pet. 2:5).

ESV [English Standard Version] said Noah as a “herald of righteousness” while NIV and KJV described Noah as a “preacher of righteousness” (2 Peter 2:5).

While ESV, NIV, and KJV all described how Noah “became an heir of righteousness.” (Hebrews 11:7).

You might be thinking to yourself: What’s your point?

If we are to take into account what the Bible said about Noah… It describes Noah spreading God’s message (like a herald or a preacher). But it also adds that because of Noah’s faith in God, he “became an heir of righteousness.”

This differs from the depiction in Noah Primeval where Noah is the Chosen One from an ancient prophecy.

And that makes him superior to all the other filthy mortals along with slightly less perfect than Jesus.

The popular interpretation of this notion of “righteousness” is to understand Noah as a virtually sinless man too holy for his time, and always communing with God in perfect obedience.

But is this really Biblical?

If you mean, some people acting like sanctimonious hypocritical assholes, then I would loudly shout “Hell yes!”

Would Noah have never sinned? Never had an argument with God?

Personally, my answers would be “no” for both questions.

But in this novel, when Noah isn't acting like a bratty teenager, he acts like a smug douchebag.

Yet the reader is supposed to see Noah as a paragon of virtue.

Never had to repent?

In order to repent, a person must have genuine remorse for their actions. It also requires accountability.

It doesn't entail a person rending their garments melodramatically until they are completely naked and then yelling at the top of their lungs. I'm looking at you, Noah Primeval.

As a matter of fact, the term “righteous” in the Old and New Testaments was not a mere description of a person who did good deeds and avoided bad deeds.

Maybe it is because the writers of the Old and New Testament know that good people are not perfect. They make mistakes and take ownership of their actions.

Righteousness was a Hebrew legal concept that meant, “right standing before God” as in a court of law.

What makes me so fucking disgusted is that Godawa has no qualms with cherry picking things from different mythologies and whatever doesn’t suit his narrative is either discarded or depicted as being malevolent lies.

It carried the picture of two positions in a lawsuit, one “not in the right,” and the other, “in the right”

You mean a lawsuit involves two sides:  the prosecution and the defense?

or “righteous” before God.

And this series doesn’t hesitate to jump on a soap box and shout at the top of their lungs.

It was primarily a relational term.

*Sigh*

What’s next?

Are we going to define the definition of is?

Not only that, but in both Testaments, the righteous man is the man who is said to “live by faith,” not by perfect good deeds (Hab. 2:4; Rom. 1:17).

So righteousness does not mean “moral perfection” but “being in the right with God because of faith.”

In other words, ice is cold and fire is hot.

….

This is leading up to rant filled with gratuitous Bible citations.

What’s more, being a man of faith doesn’t mean a life of perfect consistency either.

You mean good people aren't perfect??? Thanks for notifying me Brian Godawa!

Look at David, the “man after God’s own heart” (Acts 13:22), yet he was a murderer and adulterer and more than once avoided obeying God’s will. But that doesn’t stop him from being declared as “doing all God’s will” by the apostle Paul.

At risk of sounding like a broken record, good people are not perfect.

Which is why repeating the obvious makes a person look like a blithering moron.

Or consider Abraham, the father of the Faith, who along with Sarah believed that God would provide them with a son (Heb. 11:8-11).

What does this have to do with anything? Is Godawa trying to dazzle the reader with how many Bible verses he can quote?  

Yet, that Biblically honored faith was not perfect, as they both laughed in derision at God’s promise at first (Gen. 17:17; 18:12).

I guess Godawa never heard of a thing called context.

According to the Zohar, Sarah laughed because her son would have a feminine soul.

The Zohar also states that a soul from the "feminine world" cannot have children.

Sarah knew this and laughed because this contradicted God's promise to continue Abraham's bloodline.

God had to remind Sarah that He has the power to do anything. Which means He can turn a feminine soul into a masculine one.

And because Godawa loves to scripture drop, he cites additional examples from the Bible when people either argued or complained to God.

The very name Israel means “to struggle with God.”  

I normally don't split hairs but considering the fact that the author fancies himself to be a scholar…

The word Israel means "God contends".

An alternate translation is "He Retains God"or "God Is Upright".

All the heroes in the Hebrews Hall of Faith (Heb. 11) had sinful moments, lapses of obedience and even periods of running from God’s call or struggling with their Creator.

According to the NIV translation, it commended the people for having a strong faith in God and how that faith allowed them to do what it is just. It does not give blow-blow descriptions of their spiritual struggles or a detailed accounting of all of their sins.

Now that I'm thinking about it… I have a sneaking suspicion that this is leading up to Godawa justifying his depiction of Noah.

It would not be heresy to suggest that Noah may have had his own journey with God

Well, duh.

Noah's spiritual journey would have started with baby steps.

It is not like Noah would be chummy with God the very second he was born. A relationship with God is developed during a lifetime.

that began in fear and ended in faith.

That's assuming that every person that started a relationship with God that said relationship was founded on distrust (which is fueled by fear) or the case of Noah Primeval, built on a foundation that is a passive-aggressive hate boner for the Almighty.

For some individuals, their spiritual journey never originated from animosity or distain because they always had faith.

In fact, to say otherwise is to present a life inconsistent with the reality of every human being in history.

I'll say it again.

Every person's spiritual journey with God is different.

To insist that every person's relationship with God originated from negative emotions is not based in reality.

To say one is a righteous person of faith is to say that the completed picture of his life is one of finishing the race set before him, not of having a perfect run without injuries or failures.  

It is time for a writing exercise! Let’s take this wordy sentence and make it concise.

I'll go first.

The completed picture of a righteous person’s life is not a perfect run without injuries or failures but rather they finished the race set before them.

Now that I'm thinking about it …

This verbose sentence sounds like something that belongs in a fortune cookie.

Also, I find it odd that this little nugget of wisdom uses the gender neutral phrase “righteous person of faith” but then uses his | him pronouns.

Why am I getting the feeling that this is a subtle message that only a man can be a "righteous person of faith"?

Some scholars have even noted that the phrase “blameless in his generation” is an unusual one,

“They also think it is peculiar that the Flood lasted for forty days and nights. Why not eighteen or twenty-five? Is forty God’s favorite number or did He just pick it randomly?”

reserved for unblemished sacrifices in the temple.

Wait a minute.

So these scholars are stating that the phrase "blameless in his generation" is only used for animal sacrifices.  

Which means Noah is likened to an animal sacrifice…

Which is totally different from Noah Primeval's depiction of Noah as a macho and virile warrior who is the Chosen One.

Also, it is really dodgy when someone only gives some citations or doesn't provide any.

This physical purity

…

The words "physical purity" just sent shivers down my spine.

Because when words like that casually enter into a conversation, it is not long before an argument is made in favor of eugenics.

takes on new meaning when understood in the genetic context of the verses

"Genetic context"?

I didn't know that words had DNA.

Flippant comment aside, all this talk of "physical purity" and "genetic context" prompted me to do a quick Google search of the following:  Noah blameless in his generation animal and it  brought up a thread asking if Genesis 6:9 is referring to Noah's genetic purity.

before it that speak of “Sons of God” or bene ha elohim leaving their proper abode in heaven and violating the separation of angelic and human flesh (Gen. 6:1-4; Jude 5-7).

Um…

This is sort of correct.

Genesis 6:7-4 is about the Sons of God marrying beautiful human women and having children called Nephilim. Yet it also states that humans will live to be 120.

While Jude 5-7, the writer reminds the reader that God delivered his people out of Egypt and destroyed the non-believers. They also said that the angels who "did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling" along with the sinful people of Sodom and Gomorrah will be punished by "eternal fire."

Within church history,

The concept of the Grigori and Nephilim originated in Jewish folklore and legends.

At some point, early Christians either stumbled across an old scroll discussing these ideas or simply heard about it. They probably found the whole story to be fascinating and proceeded to write their own interpretations.

there is a venerable tradition of interpreting this strangest of Bible passages as referring to supernatural beings from God’s heavenly host who mate with humans resulting in the giant offspring called Nephilim.

The idea that some angels came down from Heaven to mate with humans doesn't sound bizarre to me.

Frankly, the Book of Revelation reads like John was on a big acid trip.

Other equally respectable theologians argue that these Sons of God were either humans from the “righteous” bloodline of Seth or a symbolic reference to human kings or judges of some kind.

Again, Christians didn't come with these alternate explanations. For instance, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai strongly opposed the idea that the "benei elokim" were angels.

I have weighed in on the supernatural interpretation

That is a weird way of saying "I have decided to write a novel that depicts the Grigori as angels."

According to the Collins dictionary,  the words "weighed in", means:

give an opinion or enter a discussion or argument

to measure how heavy someone is, esp. before a competition

It is important to note that The Free Dictionary  and the Oxford Learner's Dictionaries has these definitions but with slightly different wording.

In conclusion?

and have provided appendices at the end of the book that give the Biblical theological foundation for this interpretation. 

Only a filthy peasant has opinions.

An enlightened individual only believes in facts and since they are benevolent, they are imparting their wisdom to others.

This novel seeks to remain true to the sparse facts presented in Genesis (with admittedly significant embellishments)

“Admittedly significant embellishments”?

That’s putting it mildly.

More like “being preachy but insisting that you are only telling people facts.”

interwoven with theological images and metaphors come to life.

I’m sorry but I can’t take this statement seriously.

Because it reminds me of a scene in the movie The Ref when Gus is talking about how “a complex web of complications need to be weaved and woven into a quilt of some kind.”

Where I engage in flights of fancy,

That’s putting it mildly.

This story never put its feet on the ground.

such as a journey into Sheol,

Pray tell, what is Sheol?

An explanation would be nice because for all we know, Sheol is the name of a cave or a forest.

I seek to use figurative imagery from the Bible, such as “a bed of maggots and worms” (Isa. 14:11) and “the appetite of Sheol” (Isa. 5:14)  and bring them to life by literalizing them into the flesh-eating living-dead animated by maggots and worms.

Let’s break this down, shall we?

Isaiah 5:14 ESV says this:

Therefore Sheol has enlarged its appetite

   and opened its mouth beyond measure,

and the nobility of Jerusalem[h] and her multitude will go down,

Isaiah 5 is about the people of Israel who will be punished for their sins. This specific passage is discussing how the sinners are going to die. 

Isaiah 14:11 ESV says this:

Your pomp is brought down to Sheol,

   the sound of your harps;

maggots are laid as a bed beneath you,

   and worms are your covers.

Isaiah 14 discusses how Babylon will be destroyed by God.  This specific passage is about how the haughty King of Babylon will perish.

It still doesn’t answer the question of what Sheol is.

If we are still looking at the Bible for an explanation, the NIV translation of Isaiah 5:14 states:  

Therefore Death expands its jaws,  opening wide its mouth;

Also, the New International version of Isaiah 14 doesn’t use the word Sheol.

Instead,  it uses the words to the grave.

Based on these translations, one can make the assumption that Sheol is the word for death or grave.

However,  Sheol is a place where the souls of the dead reside.

Let's take a look at this line more closely:

bring them to life by literalizing them into the flesh-eating living-dead animated by maggots and worms.

The Bible having figurative imagery? That is not a groundbreaking revelation. Plenty of Bible scholars have written papers and or books analyzing this.

Figurative language is not supposed to be taken literally. It is used by a writer to convey an idea (example: time is a thief) or to paint a picture in a reader's mind (example: the flowers danced in the wind.)

To take something figurative and make it literal is asinine.

Also, "flesh-eating living-dead"?

I guess the word "zombie" is too plebeian.

Another player that shows up in the story is Leviathan.

“Another player”?

I bethink he is a pretentious rampallian who thinkest by using an antediluvian word maketh him intelligent and literary sir.        

“Player” is an old fashioned word for actor.

It DOES NOT mean character.

So in conclusion:

While I have provided another appendix explaining the theological motif of Leviathan

Translation?

“Behold my dizzying intellect!”

as a metaphor in the Bible for chaos and disorder, I have embodied the sea dragon in this story for the purpose of incarnating that chaos as well.

One word:

I have also literalized the Mesopotamian cosmology of a three-tiered universe with a solid vault in the heavens, and a flat disc earth supported on the pillars of the underworld, the realm of the dead.

Thanks to Brian Godawa, the words "metaphor" and "literalized" annoy me.

I'd hate to rain on your parade but Mesopotamian mythology isn't the only one who had a three-tiered universe.

Below is an image of the Hebrew cosmology:

It also has an universe that has three levels: heaven, earth, and the underworld. The earth is a flat disc floating on water with heaven above it and the underworld below it.

If one takes a second look at the picture, you will notice that there are pillars or the foundation of the earth.

In conclusion, Mesopotamian mythology isn't the only one to depict a universe as being composed of three levels.

This appears to be the model assumed by the Biblical writers in many locations (Phil. 2:10; Job 22:14; 37:18; Psa. 104:5; 148:4; Isa. 40:22),

Jewish people have their own culture. They would not be using Mesopotamian mythology as their yardstick.

so I thought it would be fascinating to tell that story within that worldview unknown to most modern westerners.

You mean a different concept or an idea can be interesting? What a mind boggling revelation!

If I didn't know any better, I’d believe Godawa when he said telling a story from another culture’s point of view would be “fascinating.”

Yet it is painfully obvious that if something doesn't conform to his beliefs, it must be a vile falsehood created by malevolent beings.

The purpose of the Bible is not to support scientific theories or models of the universe,

Actually, the Big Bang Theory does not conflict with the story of creation.

but to tell the story of God through ancient writers. Those writers were people of their times just as we are.  

Which is why the absence of Jewish culture is jarring.

Especially since all the "good" characters are Calvinists.

I have also woven together Sumerian and other Mesopotamian mythology in with the Biblical story,

It is randomly inserted  (ex: Pazuz) or the deities are evil fallen angels who are destroying Family Values™ and Corrupting the Children™.

but with this caveat:

"Anything that doesn't conform to my worldviews must be the lies devised by Satan."

Like C.S. Lewis,

Did he compare himself to C.S. Lewis?

….

……….

…………………….

It is like trying to compare M. Night Shyamalan to Alfred Hitchcock.

Even though one is a hack while the other one is a talented creator.

I believe the primary purpose of mythology is to embody the worldview and values of a culture.

Aside from helping people to understand the world around them and giving them answers to timeless questions such as: Is there life after death? Why does evil exist?

Mythology also provides a form of entertainment and ensures that certain traditions survive.

But all myths carry slivers of the truth and reflect some distorted vision of what really happened.

This reeks of ethnocentrism!

Sumer’s Noah was Ziusudra, Babylon’s Noah was Utnapishtim, and Akkad’s was Atrahasis. The Bible’s Noah is my standard.

I'll bring this up if anyone tries to claim that Noah Primeval isn't preachy and ethnocentric.

So my goal was to incorporate real examples of ANE history and myth in subjection to that standard in such a way that we see their “true origin.”

....

You know what?

If someone wrote a Wiccan based fantasy series that demonized Christianity, he would be outraged.

Godawa reiterates his "speculation" that the deities were fallen angels with superhuman abilities that once belonged to God's divine council.

See the appendix at the back for my defense of this interpretation from the Bible.

I'm not in the mood to read a lengthy appendix that reads like you giving yourself a giant pat on the back. Perhaps that will be a future snark.

Lastly, I have permitted myself to use extra-Biblical Jewish literature from the Second Temple period as additional reference material for my story.

In other words...

He gave himself permission to steal and vandalize a different culture. Isn't that charming?

I use these ancient Jewish sources

I bet many people wished you hadn't.

not because I consider them completely factual or on par with the Bible,

"They are complete heresy. Instead, believe in the teachings of John Calvin."

but simply in an attempt to incarnate the soul of the ancient Hebrew imagination in conversation with the text of Scripture

Like the Yeti, the Hebrew imagination has yet to be found.

rather than imposing my own modern western one upon the text.

...

............

............................

I am within the tradition of the Church on this since authors of the New Testament as well as early Church Fathers

Just "Church Fathers"?

Christianity also had Church Mothers.

To name a few: Mary Magdalene, Phoebe, Junia, Lydia, Eudia, Thecla, Syntyche, and Prisca.

and other orthodox theologians in church history respected some of these ancient manuscripts as well.

While the author did the opposite.

Many of these texts from the Second Temple Period, such as Jubilees, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs or The Life of Adam and Eve, and others found in the Pseudepigrapha, were creative extrapolations of the Biblical text.

I guess the word of the day is "extrapolations".

Extrapolation is defined as "to predict by projecting past experience or known data" or " to infer from values within an already observed interval."

I find it rather disgusting to imply that the Midrash is a product of guesswork or estimates.

Which means whatever the author's personal beliefs are founded in facts.

These were not intended to deceive or overturn the Bible,

Notice the word "intended".

It infers that the writers weren't deliberately telling lies.

It just happens that they were spreading falsehoods.

but rather to retell Biblical stories with theological amplification and creative speculation

You see, humans are a curious species. We don't like unanswered questions.

Therefore, we come up with a possible answer or an explanation for a particular event.

The purpose of the Midrash is to provide explanations or to give a story details.

Ever wondered who was Cain's wife? According to Book of Jubilees, she was Cain's sister and her name is Awan.

while remaining true to their interpretation of the Scriptures.  

They weren't providing interpretations to Mesopotamian mythology.

In short, I am not writing Scripture.

Normally, I would believe this.

But subsequent interviews and podcasts along with the preachy messages written in the story belies this statement.

I am not even saying that I believe this is how the story might have actually happened.

Remember when I said to keep something in mind because it will be significant later on?

Well, now it is important.

This statement and the words "Inspired by True Events" are contradictory.

I am simply engaging in a time-honored tradition of the ancient Hebrew culture:

No, no, no!

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200!

I am retelling a Biblical story in a new way to underscore the theological truths within it.

Godawa only wants to associate with ancient Hebrew culture when it elevates him as a writer and  his stories.

From his remarks, it is obvious that he regards the Midrashes as being subpar bodies of work that will mislead undiscerning readers.

That being said, that won't stop him using such texts in order to receive praise for his "creativity" and be commended  in scholarly circles for using Jewish texts.

This mentality is similar to Rick Riordan's.

In case anyone doesn't know...

Rick Riordan is best known for writing the Percy Jackson series which retold Greek mythology. He then wrote a series based on Norse mythology called Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard.

Both series were a hit and he greatly profited from these stories.

After sometime, Riordan made the following statements:

“I didn’t realize some people still worship the old Viking gods. Very strange, and a little scary…In my opinion, the more you learn about the mythology, the more impossible it is to take it seriously as a religion… after you’ve met Odin and Thor in the stories, who in their right mind would ever want to worship them?”

" I love Greek myths, but why anyone would want to worship the Greek pantheon is beyond me. "

"It’s strange to think anyone would still worship the Olympians seriously."

Early in the book, the character Chiron draws a clear distinction between God, capital-G, the creator of the universe, and the Greek gods (lower-case g). Chiron says he does not wish to delve into the metaphysical issue of God, but he has no qualms about discussing the Olympians because they are a “much smaller matter.”

Unsurprisingly, this offended many polytheists.

You might be wondering: what's my point?

To put it simply? Both writers profited from incorporating different mythologies into their stories.

One writer made disparaging remarks about individuals who believe in these deities after becoming a best selling author.

While the other barely concealed their disdain for the source material they used that garnered their popularity and praise from critics.

In conclusion?

Don't build your career on writing stories using different mythologies and deride the believers of said mythos or the very thing that puts money in your bank account.

Then wonder why some people think you are a horse's ass.

The Biblical theology that this story is founded upon is provided in several appendixes at the back of the book for those who are interested in going deeper.  

First of all..

Stop peddling your friggin' appendixes.

We get it.

It has citations.

Which means it is supposed to be scholarly...

Therefore... It is deep and elevated literature.

The beauty of fiction

Um, no.

It is not all beautiful.

It can also be bland or terrible.

And in some cases, it is deeply disturbing.

is that we can make assumptions regarding uncertain theological and historical information

Yes, you can.

Up to a point.

The moment when you insist theses assumptions or personal beliefs are based in fact...

Writers like Philippa Gregory and Brian Godawa are born.

without having to prove them one way or another.

You know what also doesn't require proof?

Faith.

The story requires only that we establish continuity within the made up world,

It is called the suspension of disbelief.

and accepting those assumptions for the sake of the story does not imply theological agreement.

Normally, yes.

But this series makes it abundantly clear that if you don't agree with the political and theological beliefs...

At best, you are country pumpkin. (Yes, he does equate them to being stupider than Ana Steele.)

At worst, you are not only a moron but a depraved degenerate as well.

So, sit back and

Reach for the booze because you are going to need it. Also, make sure that the vomit bucket is in front of you.

let your imagination explore the contours of this re-imagined journey

And before long, wishing that you never did and longing to depart for the Undying Lands.

of one of the most celebrated religious heroes across all times and cultures.

And by the end, you want:

To repeatedly punch the "good" characters in the throat and stab them in the groin. Especially Noah.

Feyre is struggling, apparently.

[C]“This is because you’re hitting on the wrong knuckles. Top two—pointer and middle finger—that’s where the punches should connect. Hitting here,” he said, tapping a callused finger on the already-bruised bit of skin in the vee between my pinkie and ring finger, “will do more damage to you than to your opponent.

While this is perfectly true, it does beg the question of why Wise Master Cassian is having her hit with enough force to injure herself if she can't even aim correctly yet. You should do things slowly first, correct alignment and such, and if you have her strike things, make sure she does it softly and/or she's hitting something padded, like a mitt. Precisely so that this doesn't happen. Contrary to popular belief, you don't learn much from being injured. Mostly because you're injured and thus can't practice anymore.

Feyre bemoans that punching and archery are not the same.

Punching and stepping with the left side of my body at once had been nearly impossible,

.....again, while punching and stepping at the same time is a perfectly fine thing to learn, you generally wouldn't start with it. Again, precisely for this reason, it's extra stuff a beginner has to worry about. You get the stance right first, then you do stationary punches, focus on things like getting the weight shift and whatnot right, and then you complicate things by adding footwork. I've done martial arts for many years - stepping punches are separate drills to basic punches for exactly this reason.

“Get a drink,” he said. “Then we’re working on your core. No point in learning to punch if you can’t even hold your stance.”

..............then why the fuck were you trying to teach her to punch before teaching her proper stance? Ugh. Tell me you've never learned martial arts without telling me you've never learned martial arts. It honestly smacks a bit of like, those short-term self-defence courses? Where they're more interested in making you think you've learned something than in actually teaching you properly.

Well, enough of that, Feyre looks around the training ring.

Azriel, surprisingly, had returned from the mortal realm by lunch.

He probably isn't spying very hard then, is he? Seriously. This book has no understanding of anything that aren't standard office jobs.

Ah, apparently there was a barrier around the mortal queens' palace. Get rekt. Also... what, so all of the queens live in a singular palace? Are they meant to all be queens of the same nation? Why have multiple queens, instead of calling them a council or something? The whole idea behind absolute monarchy is that it's, ya know, absolute i.e. one ruler. Or does the book think that rulers of different nations would just hang out in the same palace? Did it even care enough to think about this?

I mean, I think we know the answer. No. No, it did not. This is lazy af.

Rhys and Azriel are sparring, and for some reason, they're shirtless. Mostly so Feyre can ogle them and describe all their tattoos to us. They look just like the one Rhys forced on her without her permission.

“We get the tattoos when we’re initiated as Illyrian warriors—for luck and glory on the battlefield,” Cassian said, following my stare. I doubted Cassian was drinking in the rest of the image, though: the stomach muscles gleaming with sweat in the bright sun, the bunching of their powerful thighs, the rippling strength in their backs, surrounding those mighty, beautiful wings.

How do you know, Feyre? Maybe he's into it. His utter sycophancy towards Rhys later on, to the detriment of his own straight-paired mate, suggests as much.

Death on swift wings. The title came out of nowhere, and for a moment, I saw the painting I’d create:

Ugh, I forgot about this cringe-ass shit. Basically, every time the book wants a cookie for writing a scene it thinks is awesome, it has Feyre randomly give it a dramatic name, just so we're aware of how awesome we're meant to find it. If the scene is legitimately as awesome as you think, book, then leave it be. The fanartists will take care of it. All this does is make you look insecure. Or self-absorbed. Or both, even.

Cassian jerked his chin toward his brothers. “Rhys is out of shape and won’t admit it, but Azriel is too polite to beat him into the dirt.”

Nah, he's probably just worried about having his Inner Circle privileges revoked. Rhys doesn't like threats to his power, remember?

Rhys looked anything but out of shape. Cauldron boil me, what the hell did they eat to look like that?

Exactly the same food as you have in the human world, Feyre, as we've had pointed out to us (and I've complained about) many times. Also, it's probably less to do with what he's eating and more to do with his exercise regime - that's what makes the muscles grow, after all.

My tattoo, I realized, had been made with Illyrian markings. Perhaps Rhys’s own way of wishing me luck and glory while facing Amarantha.

He forced it on you without your permission, Feyre. Don't try to whitewash it now. And, remember, it was basically a honking great sign that he helped you, against orders, shoved right in Amarantha's face. The fact that she didn't do anything in retaliation, to Rhys or to you, is purely down to author fiat. His intentions were not altruistic.

She and Cassian get some water, while Feyre marvels over how weird it is that Cassian isn't in murderkill mode 100% of the time. Why she thinks this is weird, I have no idea. I suppose because it's the natural state for a true maaaaaale in the Maas-verse, and this is meant to make Cassian look deep? Then, there's banter.

[C]“When are you going to talk about how you wrote a letter to Tamlin, telling him you’ve left for good?” The question hit me so viciously that I sniped, “How about when you talk about how you tease and taunt Mor to hide whatever it is you feel for her?”

Yeah, wow, neither of these topics feels random or forced at all in this context, GG, book. Fucking hell. All it does is make them look like assholes who can't wait to poke at each other's sore points, and don't even need a natural segue to do it.

“Get back in the ring,” Cassian said, setting down his empty glass. “No core exercises. Just fists. You want to mouth off, then back it up.”

I mean, I don't normally approve of violence, but, talk shit get hit, Feyre. If only the rest of the Maas-verse abided by those rules.

But the question he’d asked swarmed in my skull. You’ve left for good; you’ve left for good; you’ve left for good. I had—I’d meant it. But without knowing what he thought, if he’d even care that much … No, I knew he’d care. He’d probably trashed the manor in his rage.

And we will never have any evidence to the contrary, and thus, Feyre's word is the only one we have. It's very easy to paint someone as uncontrollably violent when they're never around to defend themselves. Now, is it impossible, based on what we know of Tamlin? No. But it's very telling that statements like this are made when the book knows it's never going to give us an opportunity to confirm or deny them.

Feyre is upset that Rhys has been blabbing to others about her pain points, and Cassian catches up and makes a decent enough apology, saying that the question was just his poor way of seeing if she needed to talk about it.

Though Rhysand kept at it with Azriel, I could have sworn his eyes were on me—had been on me from the moment Cassian had asked me that question.

This, however, kinda undermines the sincerity of the apology. Makes it seem like Rhys put him up to it, in which case, Cassian is a fucking liar.

Cassian shoved his hands into the sparring pads and held them up. “Thirty one-two punches; then forty; then fifty.”

This is not what you do with a beginner who has already injured their hand from not punching properly. At least correct her technique first, ffs.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said with a tentative smile—one I doubted his soldiers or Illyrian brethren ever saw.

Ahhhh, so he's not actually sorry, he was just trying to stop her being mad at him. Yeah, sorry Cassian, I thought you were better before you got your own book, but you can join Rhys on the shit list. And look at the book - adding that whole "zomg it's a special smile just for her" to try and cover up the fact that he is not respecting her desire to not talk about it. And the fact that he's willing to whip out such a special smile so readily when he barely knows her suggests that it's not actually that special, and he's just trying to use it to manipulate her. Lovely.

I positioned my legs at twelve and five and lifted my hands up toward my face.

I mean, that's... a stance. Depends what direction her feet are facing, I guess. It differs between different styles, but yeah. Just the leg position doesn't really tell us much. Also, where her weight is. Front foot? Back foot? Centred?

We angst about Tamlin.

But maybe [love] had blinded me, too. Maybe they’d been a blanket over my eyes about the temper. The need for control, the need to protect that ran so deep he’d locked me up. Like a prisoner.

As opposed to Rhys, who locked you up not "like" a prisoner, but actually as a prisoner. He laughed in your face when you asked to go home, remember? Also, it wasn't love that blinded you, Feyre, it was the retcon. Can't be blind to shit that wasn't there. And yes, I do think it was largely a retcon in this instance - much as I didn't like Tamlin, there was only really one point in the first book that I was willing to give a pass as foreshadowing this, and even then, I didn't think it was intentional. All of this only started in book two. And most of it after Rhys began his meddling.

There's more ambiguous descriptions of Feyre punching.

I had done everything—everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And he couldn’t do anything, hadn’t risked it—hadn’t risked being caught until there was one night left, and all he’d wanted to do wasn’t free me, but fuck me, and—

You know, one thing that never really occurred to me until I recently saw some other discussion on it. Feyre gets really, really bitter over Tamlin not doing anything, as can be seen here. But... well, wasn't the whole point of that little arc that it was an inversion of the classic "Damsel in Distress" trope? That Tamlin was a Distressed Dude, and Feyre, the protagonist, was going to save him? Wasn't the whole point that he couldn't save himself, and thus had to be rescued? If the roles were reversed, would anyone question Feyre not doing anything while Tamlin tried to save her? What was he supposed to do, Feyre?

It's a rather curious case of sexism. Despite being the one captured and imprisoned, with his power sealed away and his court held hostage, Tamlin cops the blame for not doing enough to help Feyre rescue him. Like yeah, some bad shit happened to Feyre during the process..... but what was Tamlin supposed to do about that? Even if he wasn't mind-controlled, he was established as needing to be rescued. By definition, he can't save himself, let alone anyone else.

Also, that last part about Tamlin wanting to fuck her, instead of free her? Well, one, how was he supposed to free you when he himself needed freeing, but two, while Tamlin kissed first, Feyre is the one who initiated the ripping off of clothes. I just went back and checked. She goes for his shirt first, she goes for his belt first. No mention of Tamlin grabbing at clothes. Now, granted, she was wearing Rhysand's basically-not-even-there dress, so there wasn't much for him to really remove, but still.

And yet, the book holds him responsible. Like it can't accept that a man is ever truly at the mercy of a woman, always maintaining some amount of agency, and thus can be held accountable for not utilising that agency in a way it deems acceptable. It's Tamlin's fault for not rescuing himself so he can rescue Feyre, rather than Amarantha's fault for being the villain. Tamlin actually needing to be rescued is treated like a fault in him, a personal failing.

And, in the process of going back to check this, I came across this line:

These days no one really paid attention to me until I became Rhys’s drugged plaything.

And I wanted to put it in here as textual proof that Feyre would have been left the fuck alone if it weren't for Rhys parading her around in front of everybody. Because I know he'll try and defend himself for that eventually. Well, I'm ready. Bring it, book.

And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my blood boil in its veins, he’d just knelt and begged her. He hadn’t tried to kill her, hadn’t crawled for me. Yes, he’d fought for me—but I’d fought harder for him.

Ugh, more fucking slander trying to rewrite history and make Rhys look like the good guy. Well. Looks like I'm going to be pulling more quotes from ACOTAR.

First, let's recap. Feyre's third trial involved killing three fae. The final one was Tamlin, and she figured it was okay to stab him because he apparently has a heart of stone for... some reason. Let's review what happened in the wake of that, shall we?

Kill her now, I wanted to bark at Tamlin, but he didn’t move as he pushed his hand against his wound, blood dribbling out. Too slowly—he was healing too slowly. The mask didn’t fall off.

So, Feyre wants Tamlin to use his powers to kill Amarantha. Understandable, given the circumstances. However, as is made clear by the whole healing-too-slow, mask-still-on thing, his curse is not broken - Amarantha still has his power. Also, uh, he's just been stabbed in the chest. There's plenty other than the heart that can be punctured there. He's losing blood.

[A]“I’ll free them whenever I see fit. Feyre didn’t specify when I had to free them—just that I had to. At some point. Perhaps when you’re dead,”

Here, Amarantha confirms that Tamlin is not free (and thus does not have his power back), and also, that this is all in accordance with their agreement.

Then Rhysand was on his feet, my bloody knife in his hands. He launched himself at Amarantha, swift as a shadow, the ash dagger aimed at her throat. She lifted a hand—not even bothering to look—and he was blasted back by a wall of white light.

Here, after much fuss being made about how Rhys was calling her name, we see what is not doubt the crux of Feyre's argument now - that Rhys tried to stab Amarantha, and that makes him Better than Tamlin. However, there's two very important things to note here:

Rhys hasn't just been stabbed in the chest and isn't losing blood. By all appearances, he's perfectly healthy

Even though he's the Most Powerful High Lord Ever and had enough power even with just the "dregs" to mind-control everyone who knew about Velaris for decades, he gets blasted aside by Amarantha as if he's nothing. Once again, I ask what the fuck Feyre expected Tamlin to do

A path cleared through my red-and-black vision. I found Tamlin’s eyes—wide as he crawled toward Amarantha, watching me die, and unable to save me while his wound slowly healed, while she still gripped his power. [...] “Amarantha, stop this,” Tamlin begged at her feet as he clutched the gaping wound in his chest.

Emphasis mine. But hold on a moment! I thought Feyre just said...

He hadn’t tried to kill her, hadn’t crawled for me.

And yet, here he is, crawling for her. You know who didn't crawl? Rhysand. The book probably thought it would be too demeaning. Also, note that the book makes sure to point out that Tamlin is unable to save her, due to being wounded and Amarantha having his power. He's clearly in no fit state to be rescuing anyone.

“The answer to the riddle …,” I got out, choking on my own blood, “is … love.” Tamlin’s eyes went wide before something forever cracked in my spine.

And here, we see that Feyre fulfills the curse-breaking condition - answering the Hardest Riddle In The World - the literal instant she's killed. Only when she answered it did Tamlin get his power back. There was no time for him to kill Amarantha in time to saver her. The deed was done with her dying breath. And, all that aside:

Tamlin caught [a sword that was thrown] in a massive paw. Amarantha’s scream was cut short as he drove the sword through her head and into the stone beneath. And then closed his powerful jaws around her throat—and ripped it out.

He's still the one that fucking killed her, the instant he had his power back, which seems to suggest that the lack of power was indeed the only thing holding him back. He couldn't kill Amarantha; the instant he could, he did. Unfortunately, he didn't get his power back in time to save Feyre. Such is the tragedy of this tale. Until resurrection magic renders it moot, that is.

So, all of this is to say: shut the actual fuck up, Feyre. The entire point of your going to rescue Tamlin was that he did, in fact, need to be rescued i.e. he was incapable of saving himself. If that weren't the case, he wouldn't have needed to be rescued. He did, in fact, crawl for you, he did beg for your life, and the instant he was capable of doing so, he killed Amarantha and freed everyone. That you tragically died the instant he was freed is just unfortunate timing, really. If we want to point fingers, maybe you shouldn't have taken so long to solve the Hardest Riddle In The World? That was the condition to free him. You only died because you took so damn long.

But, anyway. Back to the current book.

And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage.

No, he only shoved you into a cage towards the end there, well after Rhysand started meddling. And Rhys had imprisoned you twice before that. A gilded cage, sure, but so was the Spring Court. You weren't free to come and go as you pleased from the Night Court, either. And even with that said, Tamlin demonstrated willingness to compromise prior to Rhys's meddling, and we witnessed one expedition you had beyond the Spring Court grounds (without Tamlin, even!), and were told of at least two others, with the implication that there were more. You were not imprisoned there until after Rhys got involved and made things worse.

The nerve to say I was no longer useful;

I'm..... pretty sure Tamlin never said anything like that? I can maybe see where Feyre might draw that conclusion, but my read was generally more "she is a new fae who knows nothing of her powers and everyone arbitrarily wants to kill her for some reason, quick, hide her away! No, you can't go to the front lines of the war, wtf? You don't even know how to fight!" Which, again, could be remedied with training (and she's already a decent archer), but isn't exactly the "you are no use to me" that Feyre is trying to make it out to be.

I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He’d given me everything I needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted—when he got his power back, his lands back … he stopped trying. He was still good, still Tamlin, but he was just … wrong.

I think you misspelt "traumatised" there. You know, like you were, Feyre. He was kidnapped by Amarantha, watched her and Rhys torment you every day, was stabbed in the heart by you, and finally watched Amarantha literally snap your neck in front of him, and the only thing that stopped you being dead was eleventh hour resurrection magic. Like. No shit he ended up unreasonably overprotective? But unlike Feyre, or even Rhysand the torturer-date-rapist, Tamlin is never given the courtesy of having his trauma recognised as such. He's wrong, according to the book. Not traumatised. Wrong. Let that sink in for a moment.

It's just.... the hypocrisy is truly astounding. Everything, from the fact that Tamlin needed to be rescued in the first place, yet being blamed for not rescuing himself so he can rescue Feyre. From the handwaving of Rhysand's torture and drugging and assault, his needing to get something out of helping to resurrect her, the fact that he imprisoned her twice at the start of this book before Tamlin did any such thing. From how much fuss is being made over Feyre's trauma, and how she needs to recover from it, and how oh-so-hard things must have been for Rhysand, while Tamlin's trauma is barely even acknowledged, let alone shown even a sliver of the same respect. It's just... just...

I seriously don't know how someone could write this and not realise how completely fucked it is. I just cannot fathom it. What kind of gaslighting fuck-ass protagonist-centred morality...

And then Feyre is crying, and much fuss is made about how she burned through her handwrappings, and Cassian would totally let her punch him if she needed to (not that the book will ever put its money where its mouth is).

And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, “I killed them.” I hadn’t said the words aloud since it had happened.

I feel like that isn't true, but a quick skim of the end of ACOTAR revealed nothing, and there's way too much to skim through of this book for me to bother checking. So, I'll allow it.

My hands slackened as another shuddering sob worked its way through me. “It should have been me.” And there it was.

And you know what? When the book isn't tripping all over itself to demonise Tamlin or brush aside Rhysand's bullshit, Feyre's angst works just fine. Survivor's guilt is absolutely a thing. It doesn't have to make sense, or be true, or anything, because our brains are weird like that. It messes people up. And all of this would still be true even if Tamlin had been shown the same respect. I've said before how it would be perfectly reasonable for their relationship to break down, given everything that happened. Just look at it. Feyre, subconsciously thinking she should have died, but not wanting to admit it to herself, looking at Tamlin every day, knowing he's only here because she killed other people in place of herself. She wasn't willing to let him go, and wasn't willing to sacrifice her own life for these others. It's the kind of thing that can eat away at you. Even if Tamlin had done everything he could to be supportive, it wouldn't necessarily have fixed anything, because the fact that he's there, alive and free of Amarantha, is part of what Feyre feels guilty about. Innocents had to die for that, by her hand, and she's not sure she's okay with it.

But no, no. That's far too nuanced for this book. The only kinds of villains allowed here are caricatures, so that's what Tamlin had to become. A caricature of a controlling boyfriend. God, the wasted opportunity is so fucking painful. It's the worst thing about this series, tbh. What it could have been, with a more skilled hand. Or just a competent editor.

Fuck, is the chapter over yet?

Then darkness swept in, soothing, gentle darkness—

Fuck off, Rhysand. I'm still not convinced that you aren't 100% to blame for this scenario.

But no, we aren't that lucky, and there's much fuss made of cocooning wings and sea-and-citrus scents (even though he's sweating like a pig) and whatnot.

“You will feel that way every day for the rest of your life,” Rhysand said. [...] “And I know this because I have felt that way every day since my mother and sister were slaughtered and I had to bury them myself, and even retribution didn’t fix it.”[...]“You can either let it wreck you, let it get you killed like it nearly did with the Weaver, or you can learn to live with it.”

Look, I get that sometimes, letting someone know about your own experiences can help them get through it. That they aren't alone and all that. However. Look at the difference in lines allocated to it. Look at it! His mother and sister weren't just killed, they were slaughtered, and he had to bury them himself. Himself! And even taking revenge didn't fix anything! And even in the lines talking about Feyre, he can't help but take jabs at her - she nearly got herself killed with the Weaver, after all!

You're fooling no one with this, book. Feyre's pain is just another chance to try make us feel sorry for Rhysand. It's fucking disgusting. Like, there is absolutely no reason he couldn't have said:

"You will feel that way every day for the rest of your life. And I know this because I have felt that way every day since my mother and sister were killed. You can either let it wreck you, let your life be their final victim, or you can learn to live with it."

And mention the other stuff at a more appropriate time and place. It's okay for the spotlight to not be on Rhys sometimes, book. We won't forget that he has a Sad Past, I promise.

For a long moment, I just stared at the open, calm face—maybe his true face, the one beneath all the masks he wore to keep his people safe.

Maybe. I doubt it, though. Probably just the latest mask he's using to manipulate you.

“I’m sorry—about your family,” I rasped. “I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to spare you from what happened Under the Mountain,” Rhys said with equal quiet.

...................Rhys. YOU WERE PART OF WHAT HAPPENED TO HER UNDER THE MOUNTAIN! YOU TORTURED HER INTO TAKING YOUR BARGAIN, YOU DRUGGED AND ASSAULTED HER EVERY DAY FOR TWO MONTHS STRAIGHT! YEAH, SURE, YOU DIDN'T FUCKING KILL HER, BUT WHAT YOU THEN GO ON TO SAY:

“From dying. From wanting to die.”

SHE DIDN'T START WANTING TO DIE UNTIL AFTER YOU STARTED YOUR WHOLE ROOFIE-LAPDANCE BULLSHIT! YOU WERE THE REASON SHE WANTED TO DIE, RHYS. AMARANTHA MIGHT HAVE KILLED HER, BUT SHE DIDN'T WISH FOR DEATH UNTIL YOU GOT YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS ON HER. AMARANTHA LEFT HER THE FUCK ALONE OUTSIDE OF THE TRIALS. LIKE, DID YOU EVER CONSIDER JUST *NOT* FUCKING ASSAULTING HER? LIKE, EVEN ONE TIME? THIS. IS. 100%. ON. YOU!

There needs to be something bigger than caps lock.

I had no answer to that—

Damn right you don't have an answer, it is 100% pure fucking bullshit. Yes, even though he made sure to mention that he has nightmares too, it's still bullshit. It's truly staggering how the book thinks it can just... ignore one of the biggest sources of Feyre's trauma there.

Fuck, I'm going to have to go digging through ACOTAR for quotes again, aren't I? Fuck this book and its retconning bullshit.

Swift as lightning, he lashed out, grabbing the shard of bone in my arm and twisting. A scream shattered out of me, ravaging my aching throat. The world flashed black and white and red. I thrashed and writhed, but he kept his grip, twisting the bone a final time before releasing my arm.

I tried not to look at my left arm as I scrubbed at the floors of the hallway. The ink—which, in the light, was actually a blue so dark it appeared black—was a cloud upon my thoughts, and those were bleak enough even without knowing I’d sold myself to Rhysand.

The faeries brought me up through dusty stairwells [...] and then—to my horror—began to paint my body.

The cold breeze caressing my bare skin was enough to kindle my rage.

I kept my chin up. I wouldn’t let the others notice that weakness—wouldn’t let them know how much it killed me to be so exposed to them, to have Rhysand’s symbols painted over nearly every inch of my skin,

Drink, my mind echoed, and my fingers stirred, moving toward the goblet. No. No, Alis said not to drink the wine here—[...] “No,” I said, [...] “Drink,” he said, and my traitorous fingers latched onto the goblet.

I awoke in my cell, still clad in that handkerchief he called a dress. Everything was spinning so badly that I barely made it to the corner before I vomited. Again. And again. When I’d emptied my stomach, I crawled to the opposite corner of the cell and collapsed.

Night after night, I was dressed in the same way and made to accompany Rhysand to the throne room. [...] He had me dance until I was sick, and once I was done retching, told me to begin dancing again. I awoke ill and exhausted each morning, [...] I spent my days sleeping off the faerie wine, dozing to escape the humiliation I endured.

What followed the second trial was a series of days that I don’t care to recall. A permanent darkness settled over me,

So I greedily drank the wine, and I stopped caring about who I was and what had once mattered to me. I stopped thinking about color, about light, about the green of Tamlin’s eyes—about all those things I had still wanted to paint and now would never get to. I wasn’t going to leave this mountain alive.

I just wanted it done. I wanted that wine to carry me through this last night and bring me to my fate.

None of that was a result of anything Amarantha did. All of it came from fucking Rhysand. He is the one who made Feyre want to die. And here he is, acting as if he had nothing to do with any of it. I don't have any words left for how much I hate this guy.

Ugh, well, anyway. Moving on, I guess. There's a big chunk of Rhys and Feyre talking about her powers and bantering, none of it important. Much fuss is made of how there's different types of darkness, and all Feyre can think of is the darkness Under the Mountain, but then Rhys summons dark everywhere and suddenly darkness is peaceful and soothing and Feyre can breathe and I want to break shit. More banter, and the chapter ends.

The bat boys knock on the front door.

Looking at Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel, I knew I’d been right to select [the dining room, the "most open" space in the house] as the meeting spot. They were enormous—wild and rough and ancient.

Damn, almost like it would have been better to have it in a field somewhere or something. Or the probably-enormous court of the mortal queens.

Rhys’s brows lifted. “You’d think they’d been told plague had befallen the house.”

Is he becoming self-aware?

Cassian admires how fancy the house is, and Feyre decides this is the perfect time for some demonising.

All of it paid for by Tamlin—initially.

No, entirely. You went on and on and on about how the money he gave you could buy a thousand mansions, or whatever.

He’d taken such care of my family, yet his own … I didn’t want to think about his family, murdered by a rival court for whatever reason no one had ever explained to me. Not now that I was living amongst them— He’d been good—there was a part of Tamlin that was good— Yes. He’d given me everything I needed to become myself, to feel safe. And when he got what he wanted … He’d stopped. Had tried, but not really. He’d let himself remain blind to what I needed after Amarantha.

Dear god, the cognitive dissonance is real. Yeah, Feyre, he did take good care of your family, and his own family was indeed murdered by the very court in which you now reside, and no reason whatsoever has been given... but don't worry about that, pay some brief lip service to how Tamlin had a good part and then immediately try and discredit it by insinuating... god, I don't even know. Feyre, while yes, he did have ulterior motives for loving you, he didn't actually get what he wanted, not at first. He sent you away before the curse was broken. Even if I don't agree that this decision makes him a good person (he is sacrificing the entire rest of his court, after all, which is objectively a dick move), I won't deny that it was objectively to your benefit, at the cost of his own and the rest of the Spring Court's. He literally put your well-being before everything else, including his own life.

And when he got what he wanted … He’d stopped. Had tried, but not really.

BITCH, HE WAS FUCKING TRAUMATISED TOO! Like, I know trauma isn't an excuse for bad behaviour, but it's a bit unfair for Feyre to blame him for not psychically knowing what she needed (she only verbally said as much after Rhysand had begun his BS, which as I've pointed out before correlates suspiciously well with the start of Tamlin's spiral), when her own trauma and depression is framed as a perfectly good excuse for being rude to his friends and whatnot. Where the fuck do you get off, Feyre?

“Your father must be a fine merchant,” Cassian said. “I’ve seen castles with less wealth.”

Her father hasn't done shit. He's the one that lost them their wealth in the first place. This is the "enough gold to buy a thousand estates" that Tamlin left them. Also, we have absolutely no evidence that he's ever *stopped* providing for them.

[F]“My father is away on business—and attending a meeting in Neva about the threat of Prythian.” “Prythian?” Cassian said, twisting toward us. “Not Hybern?” “It’s possible my sisters were mistaken—your lands are foreign to them. They merely said ‘above the wall.’ I assumed they thought it was Prythian.”

Er, then *you* were mistaken, Feyre, not your sisters. Hybern is above the wall, too. It's not your sisters' mistake if *you* make an incorrect assumption about what they said. What the actual fuck is this blame-game?

There's some more chatter, and some angst about how Feyre's sisters will age one day when she herself will not (which thanks to hindsight we know won't amount to anything), and then they go into the dining room.

I had removed my cloak now that the servants were gone, and it was to me—not the Illyrians—that my sisters first looked. At the Fae clothes, the crown, the jewelry.

But Feyre hates titles and ceremonies and jewellery, you guys, especially crowns. That's what made the Spring Court Evil, after all.

Then they took in the winged males—or two of them. Rhys’s wings had vanished, his leathers replaced with his fine black jacket and pants.

Yes, it's very convenient that Rhys can make his mixed-race heritage come and go at will, whenever he thinks one form or the other will give him an advantage. Definitely doesn't feel insulting or anything at all.

Much fuss is made of how male and pretty and male the Illyrians are.

Elain, to her credit, did not faint. And Nesta, to hers, did not hiss at them.

Shut the actual fuck up, Feyre.

“My sisters, Nesta and Elain Archeron.” I had not thought of my family name, had not used it, for years and years.

And what follows is a paragraph which attempts to justify why it's never come up before now. Book, if you'd just said nothing, it would have been fine. Because if this paragraph were true, it would have come up in the previous book. It didn't. This is basically an admission that you just couldn't be fucked thinking of it until now.

She introduces the bat boys.

Rhys had dimmed it, too, I realized. The night rippling off him, the otherworldly grace and thrum of power.

Which essentially means, any time he's making people uncomfortable with his rippling power, he's doing it on purpose. He can be more accommodating, yet chooses not to be.

He bowed to my sisters. “Thank you for your hospitality—and generosity,” he said with a warm smile. But there was something strained in it.

It's the strain of trying to stop the bullshit bleeding through.

Nesta says there's food that the cook left for them, and they should go eat.

She didn’t wait for my agreement before striding off—right to the head of the polished cherry table.

Why are you phrasing that as if it's weird or presumptuous that she do so, Feyre? She's the eldest resident of the household in attendance. Where else should she sit? Or have you got it into your over-inflated head that either you or Rhys should sit at the head of the table in a house that's not even yours?

...[Azriel was] focusing instead, as Cassian was subtly trying to do, on adjusting his wings around a human chair. Cauldron damn me. I should have remembered. Though I doubted either would appreciate it if I now brought in two stools.

Just... don't lean against the back of the chair? What else is there to adjust? If the seat is too high, and the base of their wings are clipping it or whatever, then that would be a problem with stools, too. Also, Feyre, how do you know they wouldn't appreciate a stool? They're clearly uncomfortable. This just feels so... I don't know. Like the book thinks it would make them look weak to want stools, or something? And given the parallels between "wing accommodations" and disability, which I thiiiink I've touched on here before (and if not here, then definitely during Crescent City), I can't help but feel it smacks of ableism? I don't know. It's weird and I don't like it.

Feyre immediately begins shitting on the pathetic human food in her narration, but Nesta is having none of it.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?” A question and a challenge.

And though Nesta had let me use this house, though she’d tried to cross the wall for me and we’d worked out a tentative truce, the tone, the disgust and disapproval …

Damn straight, Nesta. Damn straight. And it's especially galling because, as I have complained every time it's come up, the Prythian food is literally no different to the human food, the narration just continuously insists that it's Better for no adequately explained reason. Feyre was calling fucking chicken and green beans "elegant," for fuck's sake. This girl really needs to get over herself.

Inb4 the only thing that's actually "better" about Prythian food is the plate presentation lol. And Feyre is the sort of idiot rich girl who falls for it.

......the disgust and disapproval at you being visibly ungrateful for the food she's provided for you, after you barged in and took over her home unannounced, and demanded she send all the servants away? And, yes, after she did indeed try to cross the wall for you, knowing she was nothing more than a squishy human and you were in the clutches of the faeries? Yeah, how dare she not be impressed with your disgust, Feyre. What a bitch. Seriously, what do you expect her to do? Simper and grovel about how sorry she is that her own meagre fare isn't good enough for the mighty High Fae? Get the actual fuck over yourself. And besides, she's never eaten faerie food herself, how is she supposed to know that it's just Arbitrarily Better and thus your disgust is "justified?"

I laid my hand flat on the table. “I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even.”

That.... isn't even remotely what the problem was, Feyre. Not even close. Nice deflection, though. Makes her look like the bad guy for thinking you're incompetent, instead of making you look like the bad guy for being an arrogant, ungrateful ass.

Nesta laughs at the hypocrisy of it all.

But I could taste fire in my mouth, hear it roaring in my veins, and— A blind, solid tug on the bond, cooling darkness sweeping into me, my temper, my senses, calming that fire— I scrambled to throw my mental shields up. But they were intact.

And yet, we're expected to believe that because he taught her shielding, that somehow makes him a good person and more than makes up for installing spyware on her in the first place....... it doesn't. He only agreed to teach her because he knew it would never be an obstacle to him. Or, he's been teaching her in such a way that it deliberately leaves a back door for him, take your pick. Oh also, look, he's mind-controlling her without permission to make her act the way he wants again!

Rhys didn’t so much as blink at me before he said evenly to Nesta, “If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different.” Nesta looked down her nose at him. “I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

Oh, Nesta. God, when you think about it, she's another accidentally tragic character that the narrative just never does justice to, like with Tamlin. Might be why they're both such dark horses in the fandom.

There's Nessian tease, and Cassian starts going on about how Nesta let Feyre go into the woods to hunt (ignoring the fact that their father was alive, and Nesta herself wasn't much older than Feyre ofc), and how Feyre literally died to save the faeries, etc.

[C]"...So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

Nesta didn’t bat an eyelash as she studied the handsome features, the muscled torso. Then turned to me. Dismissing him entirely. Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe … only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.

Okay first of all, Nesta was sneering at Feyre because Feyre was being a hypocritical bitch, not for "a choice she did not get to make" - being turned into a faerie isn't what ruined her manners. And when did she insult the fae? All she said is that she had no desire to go to Prythian. Which is a perfectly understandable desire for a squishy human, whom we've been told many times that faeries prey upon. Like calling a deer a racist because it doesn't want to walk into a wolf den.

Actually, yeah, that's a big part of why the whole "waah, it's both sides, the humans discriminate against faeries too" shit doesn't work. The book's hammered the predator/prey dynamic too hard, and also made the faeries way overpowered compared to the humans.

This is... some very disturbing imagery. Cassian was all well and good when he thought he was bullying a "doe..." but as soon as Nesta doesn't.... idk, immediately cower in fear before him, he "goes feral." Uh. Yeah, that's not concerning at all. Nope. Definitely no abusive tendencies brewing here. Like, are you not even remotely concerned that Cassian was looking at your sister like a prey animal, Feyre? No? Not even in light of your own recently-escaped abusive relationship? Fucking hell. Also, see my above analogy about deer and wolves. Why the actual fuck are we treating the deer like the bad guy in this situation?

Elain tries to smooth things over, and Feyre notes her iron ring, bemoaning how she's going to be married to a "fae hating" lord. Completely overlooking that the fae not only oppressed the humans for thousands of years, but also actively still prey on them now, of course... She (quite reasonably) cites what happened to Clare Beddor's family as a reason humans are still afraid. While also simultaneously framing things as if that fear is mean and unjustified and only exists because of spite. I... really am at a loss over it, ngl. The two thoughts are right next to each other.

Rhys was staring at his plate. Unmoving. Unblinking. He had given Amarantha Clare’s name—given it, despite knowing I’d lied to him about it.

Yes, yes he did, Feyre. He chose to give Amarantha an innocent girl's name, knowing what would happen to said girl and her family. Any further thoughts about that? ........no? Ugh, of fucking course not. The book can't spin it as anything but a dick move, so it just has her acknowledge it, and then skip merrily along as if there's nothing to see there, and hoping we'll buy it. What fucking bullshit.

“I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit. I wondered if Rhys’s spymaster often got his information through stone-cold manners as much as stealth and shadows.

Gee, manners might potentially be helpful with things like diplomacy? Who woulda thunk it! Also..... I can't help but wonder if lines like this, just like with the Nessian hints earlier, are meant to be hinting at Elriel for future books. More from a technical standpoint than a shipping one - I don't care enough about either of them to be even remotely invested in their ship. Or rather, my investment comes from wanting to spare Lucien the indignity and certain ruination of becoming an SJM POV character, which would be inevitable if he were actually Elain's love interest. Anyway.

Elain sat a little higher as she said to Cassian, “And as for Feyre’s hunting during those years, it was not Nesta’s neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Both of us.”

And your father. Seriously, why does no one ever mention her father in discussions like this? The actual fucking adult in the scenario? I can't help but wonder if it's the paternalism that @tautlywanderingvirus and @flat-neines were talking about back on one of the ACOTAR posts. There's really no other explanation for it.

Feyre asks if they can all just start over, and everyone goes back to eating. Yes, there is much intense watching of other people eating. This will never not be weird. Also small talk between Elain and Azriel about flying. And then, it's time to talk about racism! What could possibly go wrong?

Rhysand at last said, “It’s [the term "lesser faerie"] become a term used for ease, but masks a long, bloody history of injustices. Many lesser faeries resent the term—and wish for us all to be called one thing.” “Rightly so,” Cassian said, drinking from his water.

Gee, if only someone present was like, in charge of the country, or something. Then they could just make a law that changed the terminology. Oh, but how would they ever enforce it???? Well, if only someone present was the Most Powerful High Lord Ever, whose subjects all fear him, and who also has mind control powers so uberstrong that people can't even tell when he's using them? But that's just impossible! They could never be so lucky! So obviously we're just going to have to leave the racism as it is.

Nesta surveyed me. “But you were not High Fae—not to begin. So what do they call you?” I couldn’t tell if it was a jab or not. Rhys said, “Feyre is whoever she chooses to be.”

... ....... ..........yeah. All of Rhys's "progressiveness" is performative.

And before anyone is like "oh, but how can you advocate for him mind-controlling everyone???" I'm not. I'm pointing out that it's possible for him to do so, and he's more than willing to use it on e.g. Feyre to get her to act how he wants, as we saw earlier in this very chapter. And yet, when it comes to fixing racism, and making life better for everyone it affects? Alas, his hands are tied. He's only willing to do evil things for self-serving reasons, not the actual greater good.

Nesta tells them to write their letter to the human queens.

Whoever you choose for her to be, you mean. Also, "couldn't tell if it was a jab or not." Bitch, it's a normal fucking question. Why do you turn everything Nesta does into a personal attack against you???

And it's a particularly insidious way to do it, too. If she'd just said "it was a jab," well, we'd be more inclined to question it, because there's no evidence to support it. But when it's phrased as "couldn't tell if it was a jab or not," it tricks our brains into thinking there's cause for doubt, even though, again, there's no actual evidence shown to us. And it also gives Feyre plausible deniability about framing her sister negatively. She didn't say it was a jab, after all, just that she couldn't tell for sure that it wasn't. But the thought is planted in our heads all the same. Very sneaky on the book's part.

"...If the queens do come here,” she added, casting a frozen glare at Cassian, “I’d suggest bracing yourselves for prejudices far deeper than ours. And contemplating how you plan to get us all out of this mess should things go sour.”

Nesta went on, utterly unimpressed by any of us, “I assume you’ll want to stay the night.”

Not a small concern. Once again, it would have made far more sense to just go to the queens directly. Meet them at their own courts, where they would be safe and comfortable. You guys are the ones asking for a favour, after all. And again, given that Rhys is the leader of a country, and the queens are (presumably) also the leaders of a country/countries, sure standard procedure is to send emissaries to each other directly, no? Instead of operating through random third parties?

And I don't want to discount that "if the queens come" from Nesta. Look at the situation. A random letter, claiming to be from the newly-appointed human-turned-faerie (a thing that has never happened before) ambassador of the Night Court, the most feared and reviled faerie court in Prythian, arrives, and asks for all six of the mortal queens (no idea if they're queens of different countries or whatever, because worldbuilding is for losers I guess, but a non-insignificant portion of the human government anyway) to meet at the house of some random formerly-failed merchant who very suddenly came into an unfathomable amount of wealth. Like. Is this not an obvious trap? Is this not slightly irregular diplomacy? The fact that they come at all is narrative contrivance of the highest order.

Is she meant to be impressed by any of you, Feyre? All you've done is waltz into her house wearing a crown you haven't earned, demand things, and then get growly when she doesn't show the deference you think you deserve. Not really an impressive showing of character for the Night Court. You look like an entitled child.

Nesta didn’t smile, but Elain beamed. “Good. I think there are a few bedrooms ready—”

Even though all the servants were sent away? How very convenient that they thought to ready some rooms before they left, for the guests they weren't meant to know about.

“We’ll need two,” Rhys interrupted quietly. “Next to each other, with two beds each.”

You demanded that the servants be sent away, Rhys. You'll get whatever rooms they've got. This isn't a fucking hotel.

But no, no, it's all fine and dandy, and we banter our way to a scene break.

Rhys wrote the letter for me, Cassian and Azriel chiming in with corrections, and it took us until midnight before we had a draft we all thought sounded impressive, welcoming, and threatening enough.

"Threatening" enough. Does anything else need to be said? Protip, if your letter sounds "threatening," then it probably doesn't sound particularly welcoming. The two are kind of antithetical to each other. One says "come closer" and the other says "stay away, or else."

Anyway, despite demanding beds be moved around, Rhys and Feyre are sharing a room with Only One Bed. Ugh. But it's all a fake-out for him to magic his own bed in there. Just. Why, book? Why bother with any of it when they can just magic solutions into place? Why did Rhys ask for someone else to bother with arrangements when he can just do it himself with a snap of his fingers? Does he just get off on redundantly ordering people around?

Rhys plopped onto [his bed], tugging off his boots. “Nesta is a delight, by the way.” “She’s … her own creature,” I said. It was perhaps the kindest thing I could say about her.

And you wonder why she doesn't like you, Feyre. She literally tried to cross the wall for you, and the "kindest" thing you can say about her is to call her a "creature?" Get fucked.

Anyway, she and Rhys bicker, with Rhys insulting her sisters and Feyre deciding that bringing up the whole Mor/Azriel/Cassian situation is the perfect counter to it. For some fucking reason.

Rhys leveled a look at me. “I’d suggest keeping those observations to yourself.” “You think I’m some busybody gossip? My life is miserable enough as it is—why would I want to spread that misery to those around me as well?” “Is it miserable? Your life, I mean.” A careful question.

A manipulative, deflecting question. But then, so was Feyre's question, so they're even, I guess.

But, it works, and they banter a bit more (including Rhys summoning her pajamas and lingerie from the aether), before Feyre goes to have a bath.

The room was toasty when I emerged, Rhys in the bed he’d summoned from wherever,

Such wonder and curiosity in the world. "Wherever," indeed. Fucking pathetic.

Even the sheets were warm as I slid between them. “Thank you for warming the bed [with magic],” I said into the dimness. His back was to me, but I heard him clearly as he said, “Amarantha never once thanked me for that.”

God fucking damn it, Rhys. Is now really the time to start a pity party? Just..... I don't even know. Was the book worried that it hadn't given us a recent-enough reminder of Rhys's Tragic Past, and so we might start to remember that he's an asshole? It's such an abrupt and forced segue that I can't help but read it as manipulative. Both on Rhys's part, and the book's.

Any warmth leeched away. “She didn’t suffer enough.” Not even close, for what she had done. To me, to him, to Clare, to so many others.

Like Tamlin?

Well, of course she doesn't remember Tamlin. It's a pity party, remember? The book has decided that he doesn't deserve pity, so he's not invited.

[R]“Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table … I hadn’t realized it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn’t protect you.”

They were also young. Seriously, Nesta was only three years older than Feyre, Elain younger than that. Yes, it beggars belief that the book thinks a family of four could have survived off Feyre's hunting alone, but that's a writing fail, not Nesta or Elain's fault. Nor does it explain why the father still is not mentioned, the guy who failed all three of his fucking children.

This then segues into Rhys telling Feyre that, oh yeah, he pays her a wage, and also she has credit at every shop in Velaris, so she never has to worry about money ever again.

“You don’t need to.” Even if … even if I had no money of my own.

Well, what about all the jewels and shit Tamlin gave you last book? Enough to buy a thousand estates, remember? Did that evaporate into thin air when you left the Spring Court? Ngl, that would be a pretty cool and faerie thing to have happen, but we all know this book is not creative enough for that.

Then, we angst about Feyre's birthday, because it was on the Winter Solstice (of fucking course) but, gasp! She didn't say anything! So there was no party! Even though parties are lame and only the Evil Spring Court has them! Pity her!

Then, we banter about whether Nesta or Cassian would win in...... idk, a fight? The book just seems to be under the impression that there needs to be a "winner." Which is a really disturbing way to think about relationships. You should both win. That's the mark of a healthy relationship.

[F]“My money’s on Nesta.” A soft chuckle that snaked along my bones—a reminder that he’d once bet on me. Had been the only one Under the Mountain who had put money on me defeating the Middengard Wyrm. He said, “So’s mine.”

[F]“Even with the wall, the threat of faeries remained, so … surely practical clothes would have been necessary to run, to fight any that crept through. I wonder what changed.”

Nothing changed, Feyre. Your author just has no idea how anything works. Even in places and times that had a lot of conflict, women often wore some sort of dress. Sometimes the men did, too. Even the warriors. Maybe especially the warriors, depending on time and place. Fashion do be like that. It's not like womankind collectively one day went "oh well, we're done fighting now, let's invent these clothes called dresses and wear those instead." It doesn't work like that.

Mor merely nodded—no commentary like Ianthe might have provided, no beatific intervention.

Because the Night Court is better, donchaknow? Also, Feyre, just because Mor is agreeing with you doesn't mean she's not making commentary. You just happen to like what she's saying.

God, we're still going on with this performative sexist bullshit.

[F]“Nowadays, most women wed, bear children, and then plan their children’s marriages.

Because as we know, women in history never got married or bore children or planned their children's marriages. That's why there's 8 billion of us, because women never did anything like that ever. They invented marriage in the 1950s as a tool of oppression.

[F]"...Some of the poor might work in the fields, and a rare few are mercenaries or hired soldiers, but … the wealthier they are, the more restricted their freedoms and roles become. You’d think that money would buy you the ability to do whatever you pleased.”

Correction: all of the poor would have worked the fields, because if they didn't, there weren't enough hands to do the work and everyone would have starved. Even the small children pitched in and helped out where they could. And fuck right off with that "wealthy women are more restricted" nonsense. Until very recently in our history, if you were born a poor farmer, you died a poor farmer, because if you didn't become a farmer, you'd starve. If your father was a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a cobbler, then you became a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a cobbler, because there weren't formal schools or other things to teach you to be anything else. The only ones who got any sort of education were the fucking wealthy. There's a reason a lot of the historical geniuses and artists were either from rich families or had the backing of a rich family. No one else could afford to be anything but what they were raised to be.

Like, you can definitely do a story about the restrictions of being rich. Just, maybe don't do it by pretending it's somehow *worse* than being poor. It just objectively isn't, at least not in this regard.

Anyway, this is all a very awkward segue into Mor talking about her Tragic Backstory.

“In the Court of Nightmares,” she went on, that voice falling soft and a bit cold once more, “females are … prized. Our virginity is guarded, then sold off to the highest bidder—whatever male will be of the most advantage to our families.”

I know there's lots of fuss about virginity and whatnot. But, in and of itself, there's nothing inherently valuable about it. Do you know how its "value" came about? Because back in the day, when kings and lords were worried about the line of succession, they wanted to make damn sure that their kids were actually theirs. And so they didn't like marrying non-virgins, because such women were perceived as "loose" or more likely to be unfaithful or whatever. Thus, women who were virgins were considered more marriageable than women who were not. And that attitude has bled through and persisted in modern times.

But, an important thing to note is that, in general, it wasn't the virginity itself that was being sold, as Mor says here. It was simply an aspect of the woman that made her more appealing. Like yeah, there's creeps who'll pay for someone's virginity. But in terms of marriage alliances in families (which is the situation the book wants us to believe Mor was in), it was the alliance that was the thing being bought and sold, paid for with a marriage, and virginity gave the marriage more buying power, if that makes sense. Or rather, the man's family had more leverage if the woman was not a virgin, because it was seen as doing the woman's family a favour to take their "unmarriageable" daughter.

[M]“I was born stronger than anyone in my family. Even the males. And I couldn’t hide it, because they could smell it

This will never not be weird.

[M]"...When I was twelve, before I bled, I prayed it meant no male would take me as a wife, that I would escape what my elder cousins had endured: loveless, sometimes brutal, marriages.”

I know the Evil Arranged Marriage trope is popular. But despite its popularity, there's nothing to suggest that arranged marriages are inherently more abusive or anything. At the end of the day, it's just two people who have to learn to live together. Sometimes, the lack of happy chemicals smoothing things over at the start can mean that the arranged couples actually get along better long-term, because they don't have to worry about the happy chemicals fading one day and realising that they actually can't stand their spouse. What they get is what they get.

Essentially, just another tired, box-tick-y trope for Mor's Tragic Past. This book is so cliche it's actually painful.

But, Mor's power did awaken one day, and she was the Most Powerfullest, so all the other faeries wanted to breed her into their bloodline, because yes, the book has a breeding kink and doesn't care if we know it.

[M]“My family was beside themselves with glee. They could have their pick of an alliance with any of the other ruling families. My pleas for choice in the matter went unheard.”

Ah, yes. The "c" word. God, all of this really is set up just to make Rhysand look better, isn't it? Because it's Always Feyre's Choice™ with him (except for all the times it isn't, but shhh, we don't talk about them).

Also, even with arranged marriages, the consent of both marrying parties was still nominally needed. Yes, there were often pressures from family/society to accept it, or even straight-up threats, but if Mor just said "no" to whatever suitor in front of whatever body is responsible for legally recognising the marriage, well, then no legal marriage can be made. At least if we're talking medieval Europe-derived arranged marriages. This obviously varies by time and place.

But, the rest of Mor's tragic backstory will have to wait, and she tells Feyre she's not coming to the mortal realm, because sexism. Feyre asks if Rhys told her to stay behind.

“No,” she said, snorting. “He tried to convince me to come, actually. He said I was being ridiculous. But Cassian … he gets it. The two of us wore him down last night.” My brows rose a bit. Why they’d gone out and gotten drunk, no doubt. To ply their High Lord with alcohol.

Absolute rock-solid way to run a government.

Mor talks about how great Cassian is, because he helped get her out of the court, and then briefly mentions Azriel so we can be reminded that there's a subplot there.

I opened my mouth to ask about her history with [Azriel], but the clock chimed ten. Time to go.

Yes. We won't get to 600+ pages otherwise. Gotta pace ourselves with the tragic backstories.

My hair had been arranged before breakfast in a braided coronet atop my head, a small diadem of gold—flecked with lapis lazuli—set before it. Matching earrings dangled low enough to brush the sides of my neck, and I picked up the twisting gold bracelets that had been left out on the dresser, sliding one onto either wrist.

Remember when Feyre was ranting about jewellery and how wasteful it was at the Spring Court? Especially crowns? Yeah, neither does she. Fucking hypocrite. She doesn't even question where it's come from.

Mor made no comment—and I knew that if had worn nothing but my undergarments, she would have told me to own every inch of it.

Feyre says she wants Mor to meet her sisters one day.

Yes, because you've known her for so long... the book is using Feyre to project motivations onto people again. We have absolutely no evidence that Mor would do any such thing. And also, even if it's true... well, that doesn't exactly reflect well on Mor. There's a reason it's generally illegal to wander around in public in nothing but your underwear, and it's because that all the random people on the street (especially the children) did not consent to seeing you in such an intimate state. Feyre's essentially saying here that she's pretty sure Mor will condone sexual harassment.

And yes, there is a massive double-standard with swimsuits. I have no explanation.

I rubbed the back of my bare neck. “I want them to hear your story. And know that there is a special strength … ” As I spoke I realized I needed to hear it, know it, too. “A special strength in enduring such dark trials and hardships … And still remaining warm, and kind. Still willing to trust—and reach out.”

Ugh. Fuck, it's trite. And generic. Jesus Christ.

Skip to departure time.

With Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel ready to go—Amren and Mor remaining in Velaris

Yes, the women staying home, where they belong. The protagonist has protagonist privileges, of course, so she can avoid woman jail.

I was left with only one choice: who to fly with.

And certainly not a choice of whether or not to fly at all. Or even to do this in the first place. Rhys guilted you into it.

Well, Feyre looks at Rhys and thinks about that one time he was feeling her up before she went into the Weaver's house, and decides to fly with Azriel instead. Get rekt, creep.

Rhys winnowed in Cassian first, returning a heartbeat later for me and Azriel.

....can't Azriel winnow? I know he can, because I remember looking it up during Crescent City. Why can't he just winnow them there himself?

Stars and blackness, Azriel’s scarred hands clenching tightly around me, my arms entwined around his neck, bracing, waiting, counting—

You know, I could get behind Feyre/Azriel. If only because Azriel hasn't had a POV yet, so he hasn't been completely ruined.

(That said, I'm aware that there's apparently a bonus chapter to fix (well, "fix") this for me, but I haven't actually read any of the bonus chapters yet. We'll see how it goes when we get there)

They're flying, and Feyre sees land in the distance, and muses about how it's Spring Court land for a bit. Not long, though, she "doesn't want to think about it." Also, the wall apparently makes faeries feel nauseous.

“It’s abhorrent, isn’t it,” Azriel said,

So was the shit the faeries did to the humans. A wall that you can just stay away from is nothing.

Feyre talks about how she feels conflicted between her human past and faerie present.

“I don’t really know where I fit in anymore,” I admitted, [...] “I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I’m not sure of that, either,” Azriel said.

You know, I was mostly joking when I said I could get behind the ship before, but. This is legit a nicer moment than any she's had with Rhysand lol.

Anyway, they make it through the wall with 0 issues, and arrive in the human lands. Next chapter opens with them arriving at her family's manor. Feyre tells us about some evergreen plants around.

The only bit of decoration, of celebration, humans bothered with. Not when they’d banned and condemned every holiday after the War, all a reminder of their immortal overseers.

And.... they didn't make themselves a new holiday to celebrate their freedom? Like pretty much every post-revolution place has done? Okay, Feyre. Obviously, humans are incapable of coming up with holidays on their own.

Three months with Amarantha had destroyed me. I couldn’t begin to imagine what millennia with High Fae like her might do—the scars it’d leave on a culture, a people.

No, that you couldn't imagine it is very painfully obvious.

The three boys have hidden themselves with glamours, because Feyre wants to speak to her family alone first.

I shivered, craving the moderate winter of Velaris,

....isn't Velaris in the mountains? And also north, in a northern-hemisphere-based world? Wouldn't it be even colder there?

...wondering how it could be so temperate in the far north, but … everything in Prythian was strange.

Wait, I thought the Night Court had to "obey the laws of nature" or whatever, and that's why it wasn't in eternal darkness??? Could you make it any more obviously a retcon????

The housekeeper answers the door, and seems to realise that Feyre is a faerie. She starts to freak out, but before anything negative can come of it, Elain arrives. There's much flailing from Feyre about how beautiful Elain is and how the villains will totally kill her if she fails to stop them, etc. Much sobbing, then she goes inside, and Nesta is there, then we skip to later.

The sisters are sitting in the drawing room. Obviously, this house isn't as good as Rhysand's house.

I had become too big for these rooms, for this fragile mortal life, too stained and wild and … powerful. And I was about to bring that permanently into their lives as well.

Geeze, brag a little more, why don't you? But, from the horse's mouth, peeps: this building isn't large enough for Feyre's ego.

Feyre decides what the boys are doing for us, even though she can't see them and has no proof, then turns to her sisters.

Nesta looked the same. But older.

Yes. That tends to happen when you don't see people for a while.

I said, “Where is Father?” It felt like the only safe thing to say. “In Neva,” Nesta said, naming one of the largest cities on the continent. “Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world. And attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you’ve come back to warn us about.” No words of relief, of love—never from her.

Bitch, she's literally just answering your question. We scene-breaked right at the time it would have been appropriate to start making pleasantries, so we can only assume they happened in the interim. Or, if you're telling us they didn't happen, then we can also assume that you didn't make any, and you aren't giving her any words of relief or love either. Not even a "hello, Nesta", just straight to asking about someone else.

Feyre reveals that she's a faerie now, and Elain and Nesta are very surprised. But, they both still agree to listen while she tells them her story, mercifully summarised.

It was Elain who at last said, “You—you want other High Fae to come … here. And … and the Queens of the Realm.” I nodded slowly. “Find somewhere else,” Nesta said.

Fair enough, honestly. I wouldn't want to get involved either. Seriously, why does Feyre think it's okay to just volunteer her sisters for this? Or why does Rhys think it's okay, I forget which one of them specifically suggested it.

“Nesta, please,” I breathed. “There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me—”

Right, the weak, feeble humans, whom the High Fae are So Much Better Than, are going to hunt and crucify you, uh-huh, suuuuuure, Feyre. And I suppose the manor door is a magical barrier that's going to stop any would-be crucifiers from getting in, is it? Seriously, why are you more safe here than in a random field somewhere? Or going to meet the queens at their courts, as one should do when making official, diplomatic visits to heads of state. It's clearly being done just to involve her family in the plot, and Nesta wants no part of it. Perhaps she can smell Rhysand's handiwork.

Oh, also, Elain is engaged to a lord's son. This is important because it's being used as justification for helping Feyre - there won't be a wedding if they don't, you see. It's not like there's an entire rest of the planet where they could have their meeting instead.

I mean seriously, can you imagine what this must look like from the perspective of the mortal queens? "Hey, come meet a bunch of faeries at this random house just south of Prythian, we swear it's not a trap!"

Elain pushed, “We keep it secret—we send the servants away. With the spring approaching, they’ll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she’ll send word ahead, and we’ll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays.

And as we all know, servants never gossip, and would have absolutely no reason to be suspicious of this, because whee holiday, I guess. Fucking hell. Seriously, just go to the queens' courts (or.... court? I feel like there was only one, because SJM doesn't understand that queens typically have their own individual courts and/or that women in power can have more titles than just "queen." But I digress). It sounds like far less hassle than this.

But, this apparently convinces Nesta.

Her chin lifted slightly. “We’ll send the servants away tomorrow.” “Today,” I pushed. “We don’t have any time to lose. Order them to leave now.”

Feyre, they've probably got work to do. They can't just drop it and go. Also, making them leave immediately after your arrival is just going to make it even more obvious that you're the cause, and thus give even more fodder for suspicion and gossip. This book is utterly brain-dead sometimes, I swear.

Elain goes to dismiss the servants, and Feyre asks Nesta what she thinks of Elain's fiance. Naturally, Nesta thinks their keep looks like a prison, because all non-Rhysand marriages are abusive, after all.

[N]"...The son, Graysen, is kind enough. As smitten with Elain as she is with him. It’s the father I don’t like. He sees the money she has to offer their estate—and his crusade against the Fae.

Almost like that's why nobles used to marry each other or something. Seriously. Alliances and the consolidation of wealth+power were the primary considerations of a noble marriage - love was a lucky bonus that maybe you ended up with one day if you got along with your partner. Make it more obvious that this was written by someone with no understanding of life outside of a 21st century suburban american bubble.

Talk turns to Tamlin.

I was heavy in my veins again. “That lord built a wall to keep the Fae out. My High Lord wanted to keep me caged in.” “Why? He let you come back here all those months ago.”

Nesta pointing out the obvious inconsistencies. I knew there was a reason I liked her.

Rhys dismisses most of the court, but calls for Mor's father, whose name we finally learn (Keir).

Keir bowed again, his face lined with icy resentment as he took in Rhys, then me—

Yeah, gee, can't imagine what reason he could possibly have to resent Rhysand. Real mystery, that one. He's just such a stand-up guy.

Cassian gave Keir a slow nod that told him he remembered—and would never forget—what the Steward of the Hewn City had done to his own daughter. But it was from Azriel that Keir cringed. From the sight of Truth-Teller. One day, I realized, Azriel would use that blade on Mor’s father. And take a long, long while to carve him up.

There's a lot of this kind of shit going on. Posturing. And yet, I am 999% sure that nothing ever comes of it. It's just posturing and wasted ink. The villain shaking their fist and saying "you'll regret this!", only you know the hero never will.

But, Rhys sends Mor, Cassian and Azriel away. Special attention being paid to Azriel, since he's now off to do... whatever the fuck the reason was they came here. I've legit raged it out of my head.

“Greetings, milord,” Keir said, his deep voice polished smooth. “And greetings to your … guest.” Rhys’s hand flattened on my thigh as he angled his head to look at me. “She is lovely, isn’t she?”

Why is this necessary? Why is this necessary? Would Rhys and all his terror-inducing theatrics not have been enough to distract Kier on his own? Why does he need to make Feyre re-enact her trauma from Under the Mountain??

Keir says it's all been quiet lately.

[R]“No one for me to punish?” A cat playing with his food. “Unless you’d like for me to select someone here, no, milord.” Rhys clicked his tongue. “Pity.” He again surveyed me, then leaned to tug my earlobe with his teeth.

And yet, a mere few lines ago, the book expected us to believe that Keir looked like a "sullen child" compared to Rhys. This is an actual fucking joke.

Well, Rhys begins feeling Feyre up again, and it's all very focused on the sexy feelings she gets from it............ you know what? For my own sanity, I'm just going to assume that SJM has an exhibitionist kink and is fundamentally incapable of understanding that most people don't actually like it when this shit happens to them. It's a lot more palatable than the horror-fest that's been the rest of this chapter.

Keir began mentioning people I didn’t know in the court, bland reports on marriages and alliances, blood-feuds, and Rhys let him talk.

You know, just all the stuff that a ruler is meant to actually care about.......

Seriously, can you imagine being Keir here? His High Lord finally blights graces them with his presence after god knows how long, and all these issues that need to be brought to his attention have been piling up. And then, as you're trying to report them to him, he doesn't even bother feigning interest, just feels up his latest sex toy in front of you instead. Again, why is the book treating it like it's just so strange/unfair that Keir resents this guy? I sure as fuck would in his place.

We get more description of Rhys feeling her up. It's standard Maas fare, with tightening breasts and aching cores and whatnot.

But Keir said at last, as if his own self-control slipped the leash, “I had heard the rumors, and I didn’t quite believe them.” [...] “But it seems true: Tamlin’s pet is now owned by another master.” “You should see how I make her beg,” Rhys murmured,

...........................I don't even know. There's only so many times I can say the same thing over and over again. He's not even trying to deny that she's his pet. Because she is. That's all she is. His pet, to play with as he sees fit, to give treats when she does as he asks her.

Keir clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you brought her to make a statement.” “You know everything I do is a statement.” “Of course. This one, it seems, you enjoy putting in cobwebs and crowns.”

Tell me this doesn't sound like a completely done adult indulging the latest fancy of an annoying child. Except the child is allegedly a grown-ass man, and his fancy is literally assaulting a woman in front of everyone. None of whom consented to watching this little display, btw.

And I said to Keir in a voice that belonged to another woman, “Perhaps I’ll put a leash on you.”

"A voice that belonged to another woman." Dissociating, or Rhys's mind control? You decide! I don't know which one is worse, actually!

Rhys’s approval tapped against my mental shield,

Seriously, what the fuck is the shield meant to do if he can still convey exactly what he wants even when it's up? I mean, I know it's a stupid question, I've already said many times that the shield is pointless. But seriously, I think it's only there as a token excuse for why it's okay for Rhys to invade her mind. "No, but, he taught her to shield! Yeah I know the shields have never actually stopped him from doing anything, but he still taught her! That makes it okay!" No it doesn't. Sit down and shut up.

Rhys didn’t dare break from his mask, but the light kiss he pressed beneath my ear told me enough. Apology and gratitude—and more apologies. He didn’t like this any more than I did.

And where are you getting that from, Feyre? Is he beaming that into your head, hmm? Also, much as I've been ranting about how much I don't like it, there hasn't actually been all that much from Feyre about what she actually feels about this situation. It's all been either me projecting reading between the lines, or SJM's exhibitionist kink slipping through. Very little about what Feyre thinks at all. Which is, if you'll recall from last post, my chief complaint in this whole situation.

And yet to get what we needed, to buy Azriel time … He’d do it. And so would I.

Again, Keir has to make all his reports to Rhys regardless of whether or not Feyre is there. Why is she necessary to "distract" him? What does her presence accomplish that Rhys's presence on its own wouldn't?

I wondered, then, with his hands beneath my breasts and between my legs, what Rhys wouldn’t give of himself.

Bruh. Shut up. Shut the actual hell up. I. What??? What the fuck has Rhys actually "given" in this situation? All he's done is power trip all over the place and grope Feyre. Bitch hasn't "given" shit. "Ohhh but he just hates doing that so much" well, maybe don't do it then???? Literally no one is forcing him???? The people at Hewn City might even like him more if he actually listens to their reports and stops making them kneel and watch while he feels up helpless women in front of them. Just a thought?

Anyway, yes, if you guessed that this is the lead-in to another segue in which we're expected to pity Rhys, you are 100% correct, because that's exactly what happens.

Wondered if … if perhaps the arrogance and swagger … if they masked a male who perhaps thought he wasn’t worth very much at all.

In fairness, narcissists rarely do have actual self-esteem. That's why they aggrandise so much, to compensate for it.

And I said into [his mind], You are good, Rhys. You are kind. This mask does not scare me. I see you beneath it.

Please just fucking kill me. End it now. I've written the equivalent of a doctorate by now on how this just objectively isn't true.

Feyre wants to know why he stopped his groping. Fuck me, I thought we were done.

I let go of the part of me that heard their words—whore, whore, whore— Let go of the part that said those words alongside them—traitor, liar, whore— And I just became.

Whatever the fuck that means. Probably that Rhys has crushed the last of her self-esteem, and now she no longer wonders if maybe this isn't the best idea for her.

Feyre starts thinking about how she's totally going to catch on fire. Rhys's groping is just that hot, I guess.

Easy, he said with wicked amusement through the open sliver in my shield. If you become a living candle, poor Keir will throw a hissy fit. And then you’d ruin the party for everyone. Because the fire would let them all know I wasn’t normal—and no doubt Keir would inform his almost-allies in the Autumn Court. Or one of these other monsters would.

Er, no, I don't think it's that deep, Feyre. It's just that you're sitting in Rhys's lap, and he doesn't want his peepee burned. Also, I'm pretty sure the only one who has done anything monstrous in the whole time we've been here is Rhysand. Show, book, don't tell. We're going to believe what we see.

More groping, now with added grinding from behind.

I had been so cold, so lonely, for so long, and my body cried out at the contact, at the joy of being touched and held and alive.

I'd like to remind everyone, because the book sure as fuck isn't going to, that this is taking place while Feyre is Under a Mountain, dressed and paraded around in the same skimpy outfits she was drugged and assaulted in for two months straight Under the last Mountain, being groped and felt up just like what happened Under that Mountain, by the very same guy who did all this back then no less. And this is after we've spent the whole book so far absolutely fucking WALLOWING in Feyre's Mountain-related depression. And no, no, it still has not acknowledged that maybe this is something Feyre needs to have a reaction to. It's kind of acknowledged that it happened, in the most roundabout ways possible - by pointing out that the dresses are the same, and by saying that people "expect" her to be Rhysand's whore (presumably because of what he did to her last time - the book is very careful not to say he did anything, though).

It's like when you see those corridors full of lasers in spy movies, and the spy just pretzel-cartwheels their way through it. That's this book with acknowledging that Rhys is a fucking rapist. It'll acknowledge that something happened to Feyre. But it will never actually blame Rhys for it.

More details, and more of insisting that this is totally to distract Kier. He's standing nearby, holding the wine Rhys sent him to fetch earlier.

I think he’s so disgusted that he might have given me the orb just to get out of here, Rhys said in my mind,

Says enough about what Rhys is doing to her, honestly. Remember, this is meant to be the Court of Nightmares, that den of evil, decadent, hedonistic depravity, where women are just objects to be used by men. And Keir is the one disgusted by what's going on. But, what does Feyre have to say to that?

You and I put on a good show, I said back.

This book has the self-awareness of an actual turnip. This is literally just SJM projecting her exhibitionist kink onto her SA-victim main character. It never even occurred to her that maybe this isn't the context for it.

The person who said that, husky and sultry—I’d never heard that voice come out of me before. Even in my mind.

Feyre over here just casually developing DID in response. God, could you imagine the clusterfuck if the book actually tried to do something like that?

I ground against him, trying to shift those hands away from what he’d learn—

Bitch, he can literally read your mind.

But the she finds out that... Rhys has a boner! Dun dun dun! Because obviously this book is the kind of trash that immediately assumes boner = ready and willing, and not just the physiological response to stimulation in the area, wanted or not.

Every thought eddied from my head. Only a thrill of power remained as I writhed along that impressive length.

That.... is certainly an image. I see it's not just Crescent City where we fail to understand what "writhing" means.

Keir just watched and watched and watched. Rigid. Horrified. Stuck here, until Rhys released him—

And Rhys wonders why they all hate him. Most people don't like having this shit forced on them against their will. Especially not when they're just trying to make their reports.

—and not thinking twice about why. Or where the spymaster had gone.

No. Stop. You'll never convince me that this bullshit is necessary, book. Surely, Keir isn't the only person in the city capable of wondering what Azriel's up to, or who has eyes on the orb? It's a fucking stupid justification. Piss-weak. Less than piss-weak.

His arms tightened around me, and my face burned—perhaps a bit from shame, but— Rhys sensed my focus, my fire slip. It’s fine, he said,

Yeah, nah, can't help but read this as him sensing his mind control slipping and jumping in to correct it. Sorry, book.

Anyway, Feyre randomly thinks of Tamlin and decides she's now nauseated that she's had another man's hands over her... so soon after dumping him, presumably? She cuts off before she specifies.

Fighting my nausea, I pasted a sleepy, lust-fogged smile on my face. Right as Azriel returned and gave Rhys a subtle nod. He’d gotten the orb.

Bruh. This literally just undoes any feeble "distraction" that was meant to provide. Keir will just be there like "hmm, Rhysand was happily feeling up that woman until his spymaster came back and nodded. Wonder if he was up to anything."

Mor starts feeling up Azriel as well, and apparently that's meant to make everyone think that he'd been there the whole time? Whatever, book. I just want this chapter to be over already.

Rhys finally allows Keir to deliver the wine he asked him to fetch... several pages ago, now.

Rhys set it on the ground beside the throne, a stupid task he’d thought up for the Steward to remind him of his powerlessness, that this throne was not his.

And yet, Keir is the one who's meant to look like a "sullen child." Ngl, I'm getting low-key (well, no, lies, it's high-key) Joffrey vibes from Rhys. This is exactly the sort of thing that he would find amusing, power plays just for the sake of it. Except this book expects us to think it's sexy, instead of pathetic and cruel.

But wait! Possible Rhys criticism detected! Quick, bring out the pity parade!

Maybe—maybe for all our teasing, after Amarantha, he didn’t want to be touched by a woman like that. Didn’t even enjoy being wanted like that. I had been tortured and tormented, but his horrors had gone to another level.

Gee, if only he had the power to just like, not make plans like this if it bothered him. No one held a gun to his head and told him to tell you that he had to make a plan that involved groping you. And also, uh, while I don't disagree that your two torments were on different levels, I suspect I'd disagree strongly about what those levels were. Remember, in an earlier chapter, I flagged that the book made sure to word things so that Rhys still maintained agency in his service to Amarantha - it framed it so that it was a choice, a sacrifice he made, to (allegedly) protect Velaris. Feyre was given no such dignity. Then or now.

Feyre hops off Rhys's lap and goes over to Cassian.

But as I passed Keir, even with the High Lord at my back, he hissed almost too quietly to hear, “You’ll get what’s coming to you, whore.”

*sighs* Oh, Keir. You were actually doing so well as a trapped underling to an evil master. But the cartoon virus went and got you too, huh? Anyway, this is all just an excuse for Rhys to posture and go apeshit violent on him, and, uh...

Bone cracked. Keir screamed. And I watched—I watched as his arm fractured into not two, not three, but four different pieces, the skin going taut and loose in all the wrong spots— Another crack. His elbow disintegrated. My stomach churned.

I can't help but feel the punishment is a teeeeeensy bit disproportionate to the crime. You know, like how tyrants execute people for speaking ill of Dear Leader.

Rhys chuckled. He said to his Steward, “When you wake up, you’re not to see a healer. If I hear that you do … ” Another crack—Keir’s pinkie finger went saggy. The male shrieked. The heat that had boiled my blood turned to ice. “If I hear that you do, I’ll carve you into pieces and bury them where no one can stand a chance of putting you together again.”

And presumably, this is meant to convince us that Keir would never dare disobey, even once Rhys leaves. So, I ask again - why is Rhys, the Most Powerful and Uberscary High Lord Ever, completely incapable of affecting change on this place?

Because he doesn't want to change it. He's happy with it how it is. He is choosing to leave Hewn City in this state. That is his decision as its leader. It benefits him. He's willing to let every person in Hewn City, people just like Mor, on whose behalf he's allegedly so offended, suffer, just because it benefits him to have them as shields for Velaris. This guy is actual, proper, villainous scum. Irredeemable scum.