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A Court of Mist and Fury

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Sarah J. Maas
Sarah J. Maas

Sarah J. Maas is an American author known for her fantasy novels. Her works are celebrated for their rich imagination, complex characters, and gripping plots. Born on March 5, 1986, Maas has developed a passion for writing from a young age and has become a successful author in her own right. more

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“I awoke, warm and rested and calm. Safe. Sunlight streamed through the filthy window, illuminating the reds and golds in the wall of wing before me- where it had been all night, shielding me from the cold. Rhysand's arms were banded around me, his breathing deep and even. And I knew it was just as rare for him to sleep that soundly, peacefully. What we'd done last night... Carefully, I twisted to face him, his arms tightening slightly, as if to keep me from vanishing with the morning mist. His eyes were open when I nestled my head against his arm. Within the shelter of the wing, we watched each other. And I realised I might very well be content to do exactly that forever.”

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“His head lifted. Pain-filled eyes, bloodless lips. 'You saved me,' he rasped. 'You can explain who they were later.' 'Ambush,' Rhys said anyway, his eyes scanning my face for signs of hurt. 'Hybern soldiers with ancient chains from the king himself, to nullify my power. They must have traced the magic I used yesterday... I'm sorry.' The words tumbled out of him. I brushed back his dark hair. That was why I hadn't been able to use the bond to speak mind to mind. 'Rest,' I said, and moved to retrieve the blanket from my pack. It'd have to do. He gripped my wrist before I could rise. His eyelids lowered. Consciousness ripped from him- too fast. Much too fast and too heavy. 'I was looking for you, too,' Rhys murmured. And passed out.”

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“I'd run away. Precisely how Rhys expected me to run- how I'd told him anyone in their right mind would run from him. Like a coward, like a fool, I'd left him injured in the freezing mud. I'd walked away from him- a day after I'd told him he was the only thing I'd never walk away from. I'd demanded honesty, and at the first true test, I hadn't even let him give it to me. I hadn't granted him the consideration of hearing him out. You see me. Well, I'd refused to see him. Maybe I'd refused to see what was right in front of me. I'd walked away. And maybe... maybe I shouldn't have.”

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“I'd painted nearly every surface in the main room. And not with just broad swaths of colour, but with decorations- little images. Some were basic: colours of icicles drooping down the sides of the threshold. They melted into the first shoots of spring, then burst into full blooms of summer, before brightening and deepening into fall leaves. I'd painted a ring of flowers round the card table by the window, leaves and crackling flames around the dining table. But in between the intricate decorations, I'd painted them. Bits and pieces of Mor, and Cassian, and Azriel, and Amren... and Rhys. Mor went up to the large hearth, where I'd painted the mantel in black shimmering with veins of gold and red. Up close, it was a solid pretty bit of paint. But from the couch... 'Illyrian wings,' she said. 'Ugh, they'll never stop gloating about it.' But she went to the window, which I'd framed in tumbling strands of gold and brass and bronze. Mor fingered her hair, cocking her head. 'Nice,' she said, surveying the room again. Her eyes fell on the open threshold to the bedroom hallway, and she grimaced. 'Why,' she said, 'are Amren's eyes there?' Indeed, right above the door, in the centre of the archway, I'd painted a pair of glowing silver eyes. 'Because she's always watching.' Mor snorted. 'That simply won't do. Paint my eyes next to hers. So the males of this family will know we're both watching them the next time they come up here to get drunk for a week straight.' 'They do that?' They used to.' Before Amarantha. 'Every autumn, the three of them would lock themselves in this house for five days and drink and drink and hunt and hunt, and they'd come back to Velaris looking halfway to death but grinning like fools. It warms my heart to know that from now on, they'll have to do it with me and Amren staring at them.”

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“You should talk to him, though. Make him stew over it, of course, but... hear him out.' She didn't look at me as she spoke. 'Rhys always has his reasons, and he might be arrogant as hell, but he's usually right about his instincts. He makes mistakes, but... You should hear him out.' I'd already decided that I would.”

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