The following morning, as Alis and the other servant woman prepared my bath, I contemplated my plan.

Man, it took no time at all for you to get used to being waited on, did it? You don’t even bother to learn the names of the other servants, only Alis. The rest are just set pieces around to cater to the wealth-porn. Everything about her position is accepted so casually, so naturally, as if of course the main character would get people catering to her, because she’s just that special.

Her plan, basically, is to find Lucien and ask him about loopholes that might get her home, since that guy doesn’t want her around any more than she wants to be there.

Tamlin finds her first instead. He invites her for a riding tour of the property, but she turns him down because she’s looking for Lucien.

Again, that effort to be accommodating, even when every word seemed to pain him. […] Maybe one day, if I was ever released, if there was an ocean and years between us, I would think back and wonder why he’d bothered.

Okay, but this is relevant now. If he’s behaving oddly, you should want to find out, because it probably applies to why you are here or what your position is or what might happen to you later. You’re in a place where you know so little, and I get that you’re only interested in leaving, but any information at all would probably be useful towards that goal. Finding out the whys and wherefores of the person who brought you here seems very relevant to leaving again!

But no, instead we get yet another character who just flat-out ignores things in the name of padding out the plot. If you don’t want some mysterious ‘reason’ to be explained yet, maybe set things up better. If her being here wasn’t so WTFBBQ in the first place, ignoring Tamlin right now would make much more sense.

But none of the stable hands even looked at me—either because I wasn’t worth it or because they, too, resented me for the death of Andras. I didn’t blame them.

Or because it’s an easy way to get them out of the narrative. “They just don’t care. Because reasons. On to the important people!”

She finds Lucien in the stables and he spontaneously invites her to go hunt/patrol with him.

But, like the rest of the grounds, the forest was utterly empty. No sign of faeries, nor any High Fae wandering around.

You know, except for all those servants and such.

She keeps saying stuff like this, and it’s rather confusing. What does she expect, for the whole place to be packed with fae? They’re in the woods on someone’s private property; why would anyone be around? What exactly is she expecting?

Lucien mocks her as they go along, pretending to be friendly and taunting her for not wanting to ‘murder’ any of the cuddly creatures they pass. Before Feyre can get around to why she sought out his company, Lucien guesses her intentions and bluntly says there’s no loophole so even though he does, indeed, want her gone there’s nothing to be done. Short of killing her, of course.

“Where is the rest of Tamlin’s court? They all fled this blight on magic?”

“How’d you know about the court?” he asked so quickly that I realized he thought I meant something else.

I kept my face blank. “Do normal estates have emissaries? And servants chatter. Isn’t that why you made them wear bird masks to that party?”

…??? So an emissary is just someone sent on a mission in someone else’s place, so yes, anyone could have one. Also, how does the fact that servants chatter mean there’s a court going on? It’s…such a weird thing to bring up, I don’t get it? How does any of these lead to Feyre’s assumption that there’s a “court” going on?

Why not just ask where the rest of the household is, or why Tamlin has such a big place and no family or guests living with him to fill it out? Or maybe just give us a better description of the place that makes it clear it is/was some sort of seat of power. Because ‘court’ in this context is defined as “sovereign’s residence” or “a sovereign and his councilor sand courtiers.” That’s a far cry different from just “a big noble household,” and we have exactly zero indication that Tamlin rules anything other than his own estate.

Words. They mean things. You can’t just throw them around willy-nilly without confusing people. It’s fantasy, so you can change the meaning, but you have to do so with a purpose and with explanations.

Lucien mentions that the magic that made the masks get stuck was caused by some mysterious ‘her,’ then refuses to speak any more about it because this book is now in full-on stall. Which wouldn’t be that bad if we were getting some good information from elsewhere but WE’RE NOT.

Prythian was ruled by seven High Lords—perhaps this she was whoever governed this territory; if not a High Lord, then a High Lady. If that was even possible.

IDK, you’re the one who lives in this world. Do fairies have feminism? (I’m going to guess not, because…well, it’s this author.)

Also she thinks Tamlin has a court but NOT that he’s in charge of the territory around here? What does she think a court is?

They start talking about powers. Lucien can’t shapeshift, only Tamlin can. He shifts the other fae for them, so Andras being a wolf was Tamlin’s magic.

“Anyway,” Lucien went on, “the High Fae don’t have specific powers the way the lesser faeries do. I don’t have a natural-born affinity, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t clean everything in sight or lure mortals to a watery death or grant you answers to whatever questions you might have if you trap me. We just exist—to rule.”

Well that’s…super boring.

While talking about how super boring this version of fairies is, something mysterious makes a noise and Lucien tells her to stare straight ahead and not react. So weird cold force shows up and compels her to look at it, but she resists until it passes.

“What was that?” I asked, brushing the tears from my face.

Lucien’s face was still pale. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please. Was it that … Suriel you mentioned?”

Lucien’s russet eye was dark as he answered hoarsely. “No. It was a creature that should not be in these lands. We call it the Bogge. You cannot hunt it, and you cannot kill it. Even with your beloved ash arrows.”

“Why can’t I look at it?”

“Because when you look at it—when you acknowledge it—that’s when it becomes real. That’s when it can kill you.”

If you’re just going to tell her what it is right away anyway, why even bother telling her she doesn’t want to know? Is this whole book so determined not to give out any good information that denials just slip out as a matter of habit?

Later we have a whole page about Feyre and Lucien going to tell Tamlin about the Bogge, he leaves to go hunt it, and then they talk about how he leaves to go hunt it. What is the point? What a strange, useless aside. It’s so repetitive for so little gain, and it flows awkwardly within the chapter to have a scene that short. Because right after that we’re over to Feyre in her room.

As she’s sitting in her room, staring morosely out the window looking for Tamlin to return (because…????) she sees her father stumbling through the garden.

Dun. Dun. Dun!