“Such elegance and wealth—yet the savagery remained.”

Ianthe educates Feyre on the power dynamics at play in the Spring Court. Feyre is astonished by the paradox—the manners and finery of a High Court masking the cutthroat competition underneath. Feyre will soon discover that the façade of Tamlin’s court hides more than political rivalry.

“I don’t want to marry a High Lord. I just want to marry him.”

As Feyre struggles to reconcile her love for Tamlin with the claustrophobia of his protectiveness, she tries to distinguish the man from the title. Gradually, Feyre realizes this distinction will never happen, Tamlin will always use his past trauma to keep a stranglehold on her, and her only recourse is to leave him.

“You look exactly like the doe-eyed damsel he and that simpering priestess want you to be.”

Rhys appeals to Feyre’s self-respect to shake her from Tamlin’s influence. In this moment, Rhys, understands Feyre better than she understands herself sensing the enormous power within her. She is a warrior and a lover, if only he can convince her to see herself as he sees her.