Elain and Nesta are walking with Feyre into town, where she means to sell her hides. Elain and Nesta are clicking their tongue at the dirt... because it's dirty... and it offends them. 

Feyre isn't bothering to speak to them, just like they ignored her last night. Even so, Nesta woke up early today to chop wood. Feyre thinks it's just because Nesta knew that Feyre would have money after selling the hides. I don't know. I would still feed her to the forest faeries.

We get more sad and dreary descriptions of both the village and winter, but it is market day, which means people are out and about. The air smells of spices that are rare for the village and that the Archerons certainly can't afford to buy.

Feyre thinks maybe if she has some money left over, she'll buy something delicious. She spent all of chapter two hating on her sisters for their frivolous spending, so this is really cool to hear from her and not at all hypocritical. She's about to tell her sisters this plan, but then they nearly run into someone. 

"“May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters,” said the pale-robed young woman directly in our path. Nesta and Elain clicked their tongues; I stifled a groan. Perfect. Exactly what I needed, to have the Children of the Blessed in town on market day, distracting and riling everyone."

What's with all this tongue clicking? Does this need to be part of the drinking game? At this speed, we're going to need a bingo board instead. 

Feyre info-dumps that the Children of the Blessed still worship the High Fae, and their presence makes everyone in the village edgy. Long ago, the High Fae had been overlords to the humans, and they hadn't been particularly kind. The Archeron sisters are rude to the Blessed Sister. Nesta shows off that she's wearing an iron bracelet to ward off faeries while the Blessed Sister is wearing silver bells to attract them. 

"Two plump and pretty farmers’ wives strolled past on their way to the market, arm in arm. As they neared the acolytes, their faces twisted with identical expressions of disgust. “Faerie-loving whore,” one of them hurled at the young woman. I couldn’t disagree."

Back when I was recapping on Snark Squad, we came up with a term for really heavy-handed foreshadowing: we call it forty-shadowing. You know, like four vs forty. It kind of feels like this whole random encounter with the Children of the Blessed is forty-shadowing for when Feyre becomes... a faerie-loving whore...? And it's making me feel pretty uncomfy. 

Also, like, why are they "farmers' wives?" Are they not also farmers? If this village is backwards about its gender roles, would Feyre think the same way as a woman hunting and providing for her family? Would she think about them as farmers' wives?

Whatever. The farmer's wife tells us again that the fae treated humans badly and still do, whenever they get the chance. She says that the Children of the Blessed deserve whatever end they'll meet at the hands of the fae. She calls them whores again for good slut-shaming measure. 

The Blessed Sister explains that she, too, was once ignorant, but a friend of her cousin's went to the Prythian border as a fae offering, and now she's living rich and comfortable as a High Fae's bride.

#fortyshadowing

Feyre finally drags her sisters away from the Blessed Sister, all of their info-dumping now complete.

Feyre tells her sister that she'll meet them in an hour. She sizes up her options for selling her hides: a cobbler, a clothier, and a mercenary. The cobbler and clothier are feigning disinterest, so Feyre decides to take her chance with the mercenary. 

"Her tan face seemed hewn of granite, and her black eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of me. Such interesting eyes—not just one shade of black, but … many, with hints of brown that glimmered amongst the shadows. I pushed against the useless part of my mind that had me thinking about color and light and shape..."

"Not just one shade of black but

MANY."

Not just one shade of black BUT... MANY.

What is she pausing to think about? And this is the character who keeps stopping us to remind us she likes to paint?? Truly, some of the worst writing in the game, my god.

Feyre tells But... Many Mercenary that she's got some hides for sale. But... Many Mercenary asks if Feyre stole them. Feyre swears that she didn't; she hunted them herself. "How," But... Many Mercenary asks. Why does everyone keep asking Feyre the stupidest questions about these kills? Does no one in this town know how hunting works???

"“No.” I held her stare. “I hunted them myself. I swear it.”
She ran those dark eyes down me again. “How.” Not a question—a command. Perhaps someone who had encountered others who did not see vows as sacred, words as bonds. And had punished them accordingly.

She said "how" like someone who had punished people for breaking their vows. I can't even explain why that made me laugh so hard. At some point in reading a chapter, I just become delirious.

Feyre tells her the story of the hunt. But... Many Mercenary examine the pelts and says that the wolf pelt doesn't look like a faerie. I'd love to know how she determined that by looking at the pelt, especially considering that we all know this is a faerie. What about the pelt says to her, "Definitely not magical?" Is this an attempt at misdirection? Or more bad writing?

But... Many Mercenary overpays for the pelts, noting that Feyre's hungry-looking sisters are standing nearby. But... Many Mercenary says that someone once helped her in this way, and it's about time she paid it forward. 

I've been counting the em-dashes for you all, but here is a good little example of how much it bothers me in action:

"I blinked—but stifled the urge to blink a second time. She was overpaying—by a lot. She looked beyond me—past me.

“I’m assuming those two girls watching from across the square are your sisters. You all have that brassy hair—and that hungry look about you.”

Indeed, they were still trying their best to eavesdrop without being spotted."

I blinked.... but fought the urge to blink again. (OKAY. I bet that looks totally normal.) She was overpaying....... by a lot. She looked beyond me........ past me. (Oh, wow, thank you for clarifying where beyond you is.)

It's like this constantly.

Feyre info-dumps that their village is too poor to have a standing army against Prythian, and so they rely on the treaty forged with the High Fae five hundred years before. The wealthy, however, can hire mercenaries like But... Many to protect their borders. 

"We all knew, deep down, that there was nothing to be done against the faeries. We’d all been told it, regardless of class or rank, from the moment we were born, the warnings sung to us while we rocked in cradles, the rhymes chanted in schoolyards."

Uuuughhh, we keep getting told the same things over and over again in near exact language and in first-person narration. This is why I say I don't have fun reading these books. I find it so dull to be told multiple times about the songs sung to them in cradles, and how bad, bad, bad the fae are. SJM treats her audience like idiots. 

The fae are so powerful that nothing can really protect against them, even the baubles people use. Her sisters have their iron bracelets, but Feyre can't afford one. (Have you heard that Feyre is poor?) Issac, her fuck-buddy, offered to buy her an iron bracelet, but that felt like too much like payment for sex and too much of a reminder of what they weren't to each other. Is Issac important at all? He keeps coming up in the most random ways, and something about him screams "absolutely not important." It has the air of Feyre being like: 

But... Many Mercenary pays, and Feyre immediately feels her sisters closing in on her. But... Many warns Feyre off going so deep into the forest again. Feyre asks if the fae are going to attack, and ONCE AGAIN info-dumps that the fae used to be their overlords. THIS IS TWICE WITHIN PAGES. The High Fae were their overlords, very bad, many war, WE GET IT.

But... Many says that no one can know what the fae are planning, but she has heard tell of a recent martax attack. Feyre doesn't know what that is, so But... Many describes it: 

“Body big as a bear’s, head something like a lion’s—and three rows of teeth sharper than a shark’s. And mean—meaner than all three put together. They left the villagers in literal ribbons, the nobleman said.”

After a bit more talk about the scary, scary fae that But... Many Mercenary has faced, Feyre thanks her for the warnings and lets herself be dragged away by her sisters. 

Nesta is mad that Feyre was talking to a mercenary because they are dangerous. This is a stupid reaction, given that Nesta was watching the whole exchange and also that lady just gave them a lot of money. 

Between Nesta and Elain, they tell a story of one time that they got robbed of a few coppers by another mercenary. There's some wishy-washy reasoning about why Nesta and Elain never told anyone about it, but all of this matters not at all. I honestly have no idea why we're doing this. 

Suddenly, Isaac! He's standing nearby, which allows Feyre YET ANOTHER opportunity to spend a page telling us about how they've been having sex in the barn and they aren't in love, and their sex is hungry and desperate. 

Isaac gives her a nod and heads off toward the sex barn. Nesta clicks her tongue. 

Nesta says she hopes they are taking precautions. Feyre replies that it's too late for Nesta to pretend to care. But then tells us that they are taking precautions. Feyre gives her sisters some copper (literally, why? Why does she keep giving them money only to complain about how they spend money? And to continue to accept their abuse? Whatever.)

We cut to later that night, after dinner. Papa Archeron is sleeping, and Nesta and Elain are in a good mood after spending all their money. Feyre figures this is a good time to broach the subject of Nesta marrying the woodcutter's son, but just as she starts to, an enormous something busts into their cabin and roars. 

God, what do you think it is? I definitely have no idea, so this is a great place to end the chapter and leave us in some really real, for real suspense. 

That was 10 Kindle pages, 59 freaking em dashes, 16 villages, and 3 tongue clicks.

See you in chapter 4! 

♥️

Mari