A Court of Thorns and Roses series with Faecrate print |
Publisher: Bloomsbury
Genre: Fantasy, Romance
Author: Sarah J Maas
Age Group: YA
Source: Amazon (purchased)
Review
‘My mother always had gifts for Azriel and Cassian. For the latter, the initial Solstice we’d shared here had been the first time he’d received any sort of gift, Solstice or not. I could still see the tears Cassian had tried to hide as he’d opened his presents, and the tears in my mother’s eyes as she watched him.’
“Poor Az,” I said, pouring myself another glass. “Wine will make you feel better.” He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian … and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight. Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, “Well, at least now I know who’s drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?” Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but made himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. “I would like to explain—” Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. “Five centuries, and you think I don’t know that if my wine’s gone, Cassian’s usually behind it?” Cassian raised his glass in a salute.’
Synopsis (Goodreads)
ON THE DARKEST NIGHT, THE STARS STILL SHINE.
Feyre's first Winter Solstice as High Lady is drawing near. With it will come a hard-earned rest from the work she, Rhys and their friends have done to rebuild the Night Court and the vastly changed the world beyond. Yet the festive atmosphere can't keep shadows from looming. Even as her own heart heals, she finds that those dearest to her have wounds that go deeper than she knew.
AND THE
SCARS OF THE PAST WILL TOUCH HER COURT IN TIMES TO COME.
Key Quotes
‘Elain met me halfway to the kitchen, bearing a tray of jam tarts toward the table in the dining room. Where an assortment of baked goods had already begun to take form, tiered cakes and iced cookies. Sugar-frosted buns and caramel-drizzled fruit pies. “Those look pretty,” I told her by way of greeting, nodding toward the heart-shaped cookies on her tray.’
“Hot cocoa or wine?” Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. “How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”
‘I cupped Rhys’s cheek, and he leaned into the touch as I quietly asked, “Do you think it’s stupid to wonder if painting might help others, too? Not my painting, I mean. But teaching others to paint. Letting them paint. People who might struggle the same way I do.” His eyes softened. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all.” I traced my thumb over his cheekbone, savoring every inch of contact. “It makes me feel better—perhaps it would do the same for others.”
“The females bring their jewelry. I bring my weapons.” “I know a few females in this house who might take offense to that.” Cassian offered me a wicked grin in response.’