Let's Read "Throne of Glass" by Sarah Maas

stratigo · Oct 22, 2021

It was written by a teenage girl from what I understand.

Kuja · Oct 22, 2021

Valmond said:
Now, i don't want to stereotype assassins, they come from all walks of life and can have any kind of personality.
But nothing about this character says "hardened assassin" or even "assassin" to me.
She reads like a stereotypical teenage girl.
She should be in a high school drama, not the lead or anything, one of the cheerleaders maybe, who gets either befriended or defeated by the main girl for the affections of the lead guy.

This book would be absolutely hysterical if they thought they'd grabbed the notorious assassin but instead picked up some rando doing six months for theft and now she has to learn all the sick combat arts on the fly because better this than going back to the mines.

Reveen · Oct 22, 2021

This sounds more to me like the king is fucking bored, but all the knights are either dead or off conquering lands for him, so if he wants a tournament to stave off the ennui he needs to dredge up the dungeons.

Space Oddity · Oct 22, 2021

Reveen said:
This sounds more to me like the king is fucking bored, but all the knights are either dead or off conquering lands for him, so if he wants a tournament to stave off the ennui he needs to dredge up the dungeons.

"You will totally be named top assassin after this, and not just knifed in the back and left to die as the king chuckles. Honest!"

The Victorian · Oct 30, 2021

Chapter 17 opens with Prince Dorian thinking about the murder of the Eye Eater (yes, that name is STILL hilarious):

He'd worry about that later—if it became an issue. Which it wouldn't, if Chaol was looking into it. It had probably just been a drunken brawl.

A drunken brawl?

Allow me to restate how the book described his murder:

Pelor swallowed hard. "Verin said it wasn't pretty. Like someone ripped him wide open. He passed the body on his way here." Nox cursed under his breath, and Celaena studied the other Champions. A hush had fallen on the group, and clusters of them stood together, whispering. Verin's story was spreading fast. Pelor went on. "He said Chastain's body was in ribbons."

There are two conclusions we can draw from this: that either Dorian is an idiot, or tavern brawls in this kingdom are hardcore.

Dorian glanced at his mother, seated on a throne beside his own. She certainly didn't know anything about it, and probably would have been horrified if she knew what kind of criminals were living under her roof. His mother was still beautiful, though her face was a bit wrinkled and cracked with powder, and her auburn hair had a few silver streaks. Today she was swathed in yards of forest-green velvet and floating scarves and shawls of gold, and her crown upheld a sparkling veil that gave Dorian the distinct impression she was wearing a tent upon her head.

Since Dorian evidently thinks that being torn to ribbons is something that happens after a drunken brawl, I won't be surprised if it turns out that his mother is actually the one behind the murders.

He thinks about the clothing he's wearing, which his mother chose for him (why is a grown man letting his mother choose his clothing?). He laments that the "chestnut suede boots" are a just a bit "too new" for his masculine pride. Umm...what?

I can't say I've ever heard a man express annoyance that there was something "unmanly" about clothing that was too new.

Dorian's mum (who's name is Georgina) starts hectoring him that he ought to find a wife, which is rather important for member of the royal family who is in the direct line of succession. It shouldn't be too hard...just open up the character finder and find a woman with the "Strong," "Attractive," or "Genius" traits. Unfortunately, there are any princesses left...except for Nehemia, but Dorian's mother considers her "impetuous" and "haughty."

"What about Elise?" the queen said, indicating a blond young woman clad in lavender. "She's very beautiful. And can be quite playful."

As I've already learned.

"Elise bores me," he said.

"Oh, Dorian." She put a hand over her heart. "You're not about to inform me that you wish to marry for love, are you? Love does not guarantee a successful marriage."

He was bored. Bored of these women, bored of these cavaliers who masqueraded as companions, bored of everything.

We learn that some woman named Rosamund left him for another man, and he's still sore about it. Eventually his mother hands him a list of potential brides, assuring him that they are "capable of bearing heirs." He doesn't bother reading it, and instead starts wandering through the halls, eventually stumbling across Celaena and Nehemia in the training room together. Upon seeing this, he goes "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS?" Well, not really, but he's rather dismayed to see Celaena without any guards around her.

He and Celaena have more of that awful, snarky banter, and Dorian eventually decides to show Nehemia some fencing moves. We then have yet another awkward chapter break right in the middle of a scene, and then we switch to Celaena's as she gushes over how Dorian is like, oh my god, SOOOO dreamy:

Celaena smiled as she watched the Crown Prince of Adarlan lead the Princess of Eyllwe through the basic steps of fencing. He was charming, she supposed. In an arrogant sort of way. But someone with his title could have been far, far worse. It made her uneasy how he'd made her blush. In fact, he was so attractive that she had difficulty not thinking about how attractive he was, and again wondered why he wasn't married.

She sort of wanted to kiss him.

She swallowed. She'd been kissed before, of course. By Sam, and often enough that she was no stranger to it. But it'd been over a year since she'd lost the assassin she'd grown up with. And even though the thought of kissing anyone else had once made her sick, when she saw Dorian . . .

Princess Nehemia lunged, slapping Dorian on the wrist with her sword. Celaena bit down her laughter. He grimaced and rubbed the sore joint, but then smiled as the princess began gloating.

Damn him for being so handsome!

🤢 🤮

Ugh...romance...going to be sick...

Eventually Chaol shows up and asks why the hell the prince is sparring with the princess, and for some reason makes it seem as though he blames Celaena for it. He yells at her to get some rest, which precipitates a hilariously bitchy rant:

"You think I want to go back to Endovier?" she hissed. "You think I'm not aware of the fact that if I flee, I'll be hunted down for the rest of my life? You think I don't know why I vomit when you and I run in the morning? My body is a wreck. I need to spend these extra hours here, and you shouldn't punish me for it!"

"I'm not going to pretend to know how a criminal mind works."

She threw her hands in the air. "You know, I actually felt guilty. Just a little guilty. And now I remember why I shouldn't have. I hate sitting around, locked in my room, bored out of my senses. I hate all these guards and nonsense; I hate you telling me to hold back when Brullo sings Cain's praises and I'm just there, boring and unnoticed in the middle. I hate being told what I can't do. And I hate you most of all!"

He tapped his foot on the ground. "Are you finished?"

I mean, Chaol's response is pretty bang-on, I have to say. I get that she's a teenager, and teenagers tend to be moody and petty like this, but this stunning display of ingratitude really isn't endearing the reader to the character. And with that end we end the shortest chapter thus far...just 607 words!

The Victorian · Nov 3, 2021

Chapter 19 opens with Kaltain speaking with Duke Perrington, trying to gently pry some information out of him while concealing her disgust for him:

"Her Majesty is quite well, actually," Perrington said, leading Kaltain toward her rooms. Her stomach clenched a bit. Though he didn't hide that he wanted her, he hadn't pushed her into bed—yet. But with a man like Perrington, who always got what he wanted . . . she didn't have much time to find a way to avoid owning up to the subtle promise she'd made him earlier that year. "But," the duke went on, "with a son of marriageable age, she's busy."

Kaltain kept her face plain. Calm. Serene. "Can we expect any news of an engagement in the near future?" Another dangerous question.

"I certainly hope so," the duke grumbled, his face darkening beneath his ruddy hair. The jagged scar along his cheek stood out starkly. "Her Majesty already has a list of girls deemed appropriate—" The duke halted, remembering whom he spoke to, and Kaltain batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, I'm quite sorry," she purred. "I didn't mean to pry into the Royal Household's affairs." She patted his arm, her heart kicking into a full gallop. Dorian had been given a list of appropriate brides? Who was on it? And how could she . . . No, she'd think of that later. For now, she had to find out who stood between her and the crown.

So imagine that this is the sort of thing that made critics suggest that this novel would appeal to fans of Game of Thrones, but this is entry-level court intrigue right here. Anyway, they get to discussing Celaena, under her pseudonym of Lady Lillian. Kaltain remarks that Dorian is obviously in love with her, even though she's not on the queen's approved list of brides. Perrington is furious at "Lady Lillian," which makes Kaltain happy, since she wants the prince for herself and thinks she might have a way of getting rid of her.

We then cut to Dorian and Chaol, who are bickering over Celaena. Chaol tells Dorian he should keep his distance (considering she's an assassin and all), but Dorian is all like "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!"

And speaking of assassins, we're nearly halfway through the book and so far we haven't actually seen Celaena assassinate someone yet. For all we know, Celaena is all boast and no bite, since we've never seen her use any of her supposed skills. I wonder if the author thought that having the protagonist actually murder someone on the pages might have made her too unsympathetic (not that she's terribly sympathetic as she is, of course).

Dorian does the the whole "OoooOOOhhh, somebody's got a girlfriend!" routine but then Chaol is all like "Shut up! I don't even like her!"

"Why would she kill me? I think she likes being pampered. If she hasn't attempted to escape or kill anyone, then why would she do it now?" He patted his friend on the shoulder. "You worry too much."

"It's my occupation to worry."

"Then you'll have gray hair before you're twenty-five, and Sardothien certainly will not fall in love with you."

"What nonsense are you talking?"

"Well, if she does try to escape, which she won't, then she'll break your heart. You'd be forced to throw her in the dungeons, hunt her down, or kill her."

"Dorian, I don't like her."

They then get to discussing the grisly fate of the Eye Eater. It turns out that he was completely eviscerated, and what's worse...his brain is missing.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4fU0Ajo4RM

After finishing this extremely brief chapter, we move onto Chapter 20, which opens with Celaena moping about how she lashed out at Chaol the other day:

Celaena closed her book and sighed. What a terrible ending. She stood from the chair, unsure where she was going, and walked out of her bedroom. She'd been willing to apologize to Chaol when he found her sparring with Nehemia that afternoon, but his behavior . . . She paced through her rooms. He had more important things to do than guard the world's most famous criminal, did he? She didn't enjoy being cruel, but . . . hadn't he deserved it?

She'd really made a fool out of herself by mentioning the vomiting. And she'd called him all sorts of nasty things. Did he trust her or hate her? Celaena looked at her hands and realized she had wrung them so badly that her fingers were red. How had she gone from the most feared prisoner in Endovier to this sappy mess?

The ellipsis abuse...it burns!

Since there's a murderer about in the castle, she rigs the hinges on her bedroom to squeak loudly when opened, so that no one can sneak in while she's sleeping. She also nicked some sewing needles and embed them in a bar of soap, which she calls a "makeshift pike," even though that doesn't sound at all similar to a pike:

She sits down to play the piano, musing that she was once very good at it (because of course she is), and starts thinking about how might have betrayed her when she got captured and sent off to the salt mine. She plays for some time, not noticing that Dorian is standing in the doorway, watching her. Wait, didn't she just alter the door hinges so that it would make a lot of noise if someone entered? I mean, a piano isn't that loud that you couldn't hear anything else.

Her fingers slipped on the keys, which let out a loud, awful CLANK, and she was halfway to the rack of cue sticks when she beheld him. He could have sworn her eyes were damp. "What are you doing here?" She glanced to the door. Was she planning on using one of those cue sticks against him?

"Chaol isn't with me," he said with a quick smile. "If that's what you're wondering. I apologize if I interrupted." He wondered at her discomfort as she turned red. It seemed far too human an emotion for Adarlan's Assassin. Perhaps his earlier plan to embarrass her wasn't foiled yet. "But you were playing so beautifully that I—"

"It's fine." She walked toward one of the chairs. He stood, blocking her path. She was of surprisingly average height. He glanced down at her form. Average height aside, her curves were enticing. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.

I'm reminded of that hoary cliche of describing women in fiction as having "curves in all the right places." Which makes me think of some situation where her curves are in the wrong places, with her breasts now growing out of her back.

The two of them have some back and forth banter that is absolutely excruciating:

He smiled roguishly. "We decided to meet tonight. Don't you remember?"

"I thought it was a joke."

"I'm Crown Prince of Adarlan." He sank into a chair before the fire. "I never joke."

"Are you allowed to be here?"

"Allowed? Again: I'm a prince. I can do what I like."

"Yes, but I'm Adarlan's Assassin."

He wouldn't be intimidated, even if she could grab that billiards cue and skewer him with it in a matter of seconds. "From your playing, it seems that you're a great deal more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he said, trying not to get lost in her strange, lovely eyes, "I don't think anyone who plays like that can be just a criminal. It seems like you have a soul," he teased.

Oh god, make it stop!

She asks if Chaol gave the order to kill Sven, and he tells her that he did not. Dorian hints (well, more than hints) that he'd like to make her his lover, at which point she finally snaps at him:

"I'm not some odd commodity that you can gawk at!" She stepped closer. "I'm not some carnival exhibit, and you won't use me as part of some unfulfilled desire for adventure and excitement! Which is undoubtedly why you chose me to be your Champion."

His mouth fell open and he conceded a step. "What?" was all he managed.

She stalked past him and dropped into the armchair. At least she wasn't leaving. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't realize why you came here tonight? As someone who gave me The Crown of a Hero to read, which suggests a rather fanciful mind that yearns for adventure?"

"I don't think you're an adventure," he muttered.

I realise that I'm probably a poor judge of the quality of romantic interactions in fiction, but this is just painful to read. You'd think people would be tired of this whole bickering, "I hate you I love you I hate you I love you..." routine by now.

Before he leaves, Dorian learns that Celaena once had a lover named Sam, who died thirteen months ago. And with that we end this chapter, and not a moment too soon.

WestOrEast · Nov 3, 2021

The Victorian said:
She also nicked some sewing needles and embed them in a bar of soap, which she calls a "makeshift pike," even though that doesn't sound at all similar to a pike:

Sounds like a booby trap, unless she's planning to hold onto the soap (a notoriously rough substance) and hit someone with it.

The Victorian said:
She sits down to play the piano, musing that she was once very good at it (because of course she is),

Perfect chance to make a joke about how she knew she was good by making the dog cower and whine instead of fleeing the room, just wasted.

Mechanical · Nov 3, 2021

Tsundere more like tsundon't

(I do actually really like tsundere characters but this is just awful)

Lechloan · Nov 3, 2021

The Victorian said:
I realise that I'm probably a poor judge of the quality of romantic interactions in fiction, but this is just painful to read. You'd think people would be tired of this whole bickering, "I hate you I love you I hate you I love you..." routine by now. It seems to me that authors

You didn't finish this sentence, but consider this is a YA novel. The target audience simply hadn't the time to get tired of this yet.

The Victorian · Nov 4, 2021

Chapter 22 opens in the middle of the next event, which involves scaling castle walls. One of the contestants didn't show up, and even the guards can't figure out where he went...which means he's probably the next victim of whomever killed the Eye Eater.

Twenty feet up and about thirty feet away flapped the object of this insane race: a golden flag. The Test was simple: climb the castle to where the flag waved ninety feet in the air and retrieve it. First one who grabbed the flag and brought it back down received a pat on the back. Last one to reach the designated spot would be sent back to whatever gutter they came from.

Surprisingly, no one had fallen yet—perhaps because the path to the flag was fairly easy: balconies, windowsills, and trellises covered most of the space. Celaena scooted up another few feet, her fingers aching. Looking down was always a bad idea, even if Arobynn had forced her to stand on the ledge of his Assassin's Keep for hours on end to become accustomed to heights. She panted as she grasped another window ledge and hoisted herself up. It was deep enough that she could crouch within, and she took a moment to study the other competitors.

Of course, Cain is in the lead, having taken the easiest path to the flag. Each competitor was allowed to take something to aid them, and Celaena chose to take a small tin of tar, which she smeared on her hands in order to get a better grip on the stones. She hears someone scream, and realises that another competitor, Ned Clement, has plummeted to his death.

She does so more parkour-ing, and then Nox ends up falling from his perch and is left hanging by a rope. Grave, another competitor, takes out a knife he'd hidden on his body and begins sawing through the rope. Despite the fact that he's one of her competitors, Celaena decides to save him (character development!), and we get another chapter break mid-action scene.

In a heartbeat, her arms were around his middle, and she slammed into him so hard that the breath was knocked from her chest. Together they plummeted like a stone, down, down, down toward the rising ground.

Nox grabbed the rope, but even that wasn't enough to lighten the blinding impact on her torso as the rope went taut. She held on to him with every ounce of strength she had, willing her arms not to let him go. The rope sent them careening toward the wall. Celaena hardly had the sense to lean her head away from the approaching stones, and the impact burst through her side and shoulder. She held tight to him still, focusing on her arms, on her too-shallow breathing. They hung there, flat against the wall, panting as they looked at the ground thirty feet below. The rope held.

Everyone watching is impressed with her heroics, but there's a still a test going on. She looks up to see Cain snag the Golden ~~Snitch~~ flag.

She winds up placing 18th, which makes Chaol happy, since she's supposed to be staying in the middle of pack. Of course, not coming in first offends Celaena's narcissistic sensibilities, and she tells Chaol that her master, Arobynn, once told her that second place is just the first loser. Wow, who knew that the so-called "King of Assassins" would act like a stereotypical high school jock?

At any rate, this is our opportunity to learn more about our heroine's backstory:

"He trained me himself, and then brought in tutors from all over Erilea. The fighting masters from the rice fields of the southern continent, poison experts from the Bogdano Jungle . . . Once he sent me to the Silent Assassins in the Red Desert. No price was too high for him. Or me," she added, fingering the fine thread on her bathrobe. "He didn't bother to tell me until I was fourteen that I was expected to pay him back for all of it."

"He trained you and then made you pay for it?"

Unfortunately, we then get some more "romantic" bickering between Chaol and Celaena. She starts by demanding he apologise for all the nasty things he said back when caught her sparring with Nehemia:

"Apologized? For what?"

"For all the horrid things you said yesterday afternoon when I was sparring with Nehemia."

He narrowed his eyes, taking the bait. "I won't apologize for speaking the truth."

"The truth? You treated me like I'm a crazed criminal!"

"And you said that you hated me more than anyone alive."

"I meant every word of it." However, a smile began to tug at her lips—and she soon found it reflected on his face. He tossed a piece of bread at her, which she caught in one hand and threw back at him. He caught it with ease. "Idiot," she said, grinning now.

"Crazed criminal," he returned, grinning, too.

"I really do hate you."

Oh god, this is just...

So I think I can guess why authors write romance like this. They've got some notion into their heads that "opposites attract!" and that they think that's an excuse to write childish whining that they seem to think is "witty banter." But there's nothing "witty" about petty bickering and sniping at one another, and there's no reason why "Opposites attract!" should be more interesting than "Birds of a feather..."

And secondly, I know that Chaol and Dorian are young men, and horny young men aren't exactly discriminating when it comes to whom their attracted to, but what is it about Celaena, exactly, that they find attractive, besides the fact that she's good looking? The fact that she has no moral qualms about being a killer for hire and that she can friendly one moment and extremely bitchy the next is raising more red flags than at a May Day parade in the Soviet Union.

Getting back to the story, it turns out that...surprise surprise...the contestant who didn't show up has been brutally hacked apart.

The new murder cast a pall over the next two weeks, and the two Tests they brought with them. Celaena passed the Tests—stealth and tracking—without drawing much attention to herself or risking her neck to save anyone. No other Champions were murdered, thankfully, but Celaena still found herself looking over her shoulder constantly, even though Chaol seemed to consider the two murders to be just unfortunate incidents.

Just unfortunate incidents?

Dude, two people were just brutally torn apart. And you're captain of the guard for god's sake! Between this and the prince dismissing the first killing as a "drunken brawl" I'm beginning to wonder how this kingdom managed to conquer so much of the known world.

WestOrEast · Nov 4, 2021

The Victorian said:
Just unfortunate incidents?

Dude, two people were just brutally torn apart. And you're captain of the guard for god's sake! Between this and the prince dismissing the first killing as a "drunken brawl" I'm beginning to wonder how this kingdom managed to conquer so much of the known world.

Hey, sometimes you misprounce your subject's name and sometimes the rabble of scum you're planning to kill anyway once you got what you want get a head start on it. Nobody's perfect.

The Victorian · Nov 10, 2021

Chapter 23 opens with our heroine experiencing a nightmare. We know it's a nightmare because it only lasts for a few paragraphs before the section break:

She pivoted, shackles clanking, and took in the desolate waste that was Endovier.

She had failed, failed and been sent back here. There was no chance of escape. She had tasted freedom, come so close to it, and now—

Celaena screamed as excruciating pain shot down her back, barely heralded by the crack of the whip. She fell onto the ground, stone slicing into her raw knees.

"Get on your feet," someone barked.

Tears stung her eyes, and the whip creaked as it rose again. She would be killed this time. She would die from the pain of it.

She wakes up to find Chaol standing over her...in her bedroom. Wait, didn't she rig her door to squeal loudly when opened? How is it that people in the castle keep managing to sneak up on her?

He informs him that today is Samhuinn (which is actually the Scottish Gaelic spelling of Samhain), and he asks her if she plans to attend the "service." Which then leads to...more bickering! Even worse, religious bickering!

"Of course. And will you be summoning the dead to you this haunted night or lighting a bonfire with your companions?"

"I don't partake in such superstitious nonsense."

"Be careful, my cynical friend!" she warned, putting a hand in the air. "The gods and the dead are closest to the earth this day—they can hear every nasty comment you make!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's a silly holiday to celebrate the coming of winter. The bonfires just produce ash to cover the fields."

"As an offering to the gods to keep them safe!"

"As a way to fertilize them."

Oh god, it's like one of those "NEVER AGAIN BURNING TIMES" Wicca types I used to encounter in high school arguing with the edgy New Atheist types I used to hang out with in university.

Anyway, the two continue to argue, with Celaena wondering why she's permitted to attend to the temple service but not the feast. Chaol says that the feast is a "show of debauchery," and tells her that there's another test coming up tomorrow.

Then we cut to Dorian, who is sitting through the Samhuinn temple service and finding it rather boring. The thing is, Samhain/Samhuinn is pagan holiday, but the phrase "temple service" seems more evocative of Christianity. Could this be an example of religious syncretism? Or is the author simply throwing a bunch of familiar religious concepts together? Personally, I'm always bothered when fantasy authors get lazy with their fictional religions and just start taking real-world faiths and changing things up slightly (I'm looking at you, Dragon Age).

And of course, his mother decided to use the service as an opportunity to point out all the eligible ladies. That's this, this "gritty, edgy" fantasy novel has a guy being nagged at in church by his mother about finding a wife!

As he leaves, he quite literally stumbles in Celaena and Nehemia. He muses on how Duke Perrington suggested mustering more forces to crush the rebels in Eyllwe while keeping Nehemia here as a hostage in order to discourage any retaliation. Of course, Dorian is against this idea, since it would be an obvious breach of diplomatic protocols.

Dorian notes that Celaena and Nehemia "make a formidable pair" and Chaols remarks ,"You think that was bad? You should see them when they really get going." And at that instant approximately 50,000 femslash fan fics poofed into existence.

We then cut to Chaol and Nehemia arguing about what, exactly, his job is. He says that he's a guard, not a soldier, and she points out that he kills on the orders of his king, so there's no real difference. Celaena chimes in and says she wants to tutor Nehemia in their language, but of course Chaol refuses. They notice Cain examining something on the clock tower, and when the trio looks at it closer they discover that he was cleaning some strange mark etched into the stone:

Chaol said nothing as he began walking again. She and Nehemia took up behind him, and as they crossed the small patio in which the clock tower stood, Celaena looked at the spot where Cain had just been kneeling. He'd dug out the dirt packed into the hollows of the strange mark in the flagstone, making the mark clearer. "What do you think this is?" she asked the princess, pointing at the mark etched into the tile. And why had Cain been cleaning it?

"A Wyrdmark," the princess replied, giving it a name in Celaena's own language.

Celaena's brows rose. It was just a triangle inside of a circle. "Can you read these marks?" she asked. A Wyrdmark . . . how strange!

"No," Nehemia said quickly. "They're a part of an ancient religion that died long ago."

"What religion?" Celaena asked. "Look, there's another." She pointed at another mark a few feet away. It was a vertical line with an inverted peak stretching upward from its middle.

"You should leave it alone," Nehemia said sharply, and Celaena blinked. "Such things were forgotten for a reason."

Nehemia is suddenly very suspicious, and asks Celaena if she knows anything about these "Wyrdmarks." She denies it, but Nehemia knows she's hiding something, and Celaena is left wondering what it is about Wyrdmarks that's got her so spooked. And more importantly, why was Cain cleaning them?

GUYS, HE'S THE ONE BEHIND THE MURDERS. I'M CALLING IT NOW. HE'S DOING IT WITH THE SPOOKY MAGIC SHIT.

We then move on to Chapter 24, which opens with Celaena lying in bed, unable to sleep. She's staring at an old tapestry on the wall, and then she notices that it's moving on its own. She checks the windows, and they're shut. After getting up and looking behind the tapestry, she discovers a pair of vertical grooves in the wall behind it, clearly indicating a hidden door. She manages to push it open, and finds a dark passage within. Strangely, the wind starts blowing on her back, when earlier it had been blowing the tapestry out. SpoooOOOOooooky!

She grabs some balls of yarn, some chalk, and some candlesticks and sets off into the passage, but not before jamming a chair into the door (so that it doesn't shut on her) and tying some yarn to it in order to find her way back. Inside, she discovers a set of stairs leading down. Eventually the path splits into three:

The bottom of the stairs soon appeared, and she came to a halt before three equally dark and imposing portals. Where was she? She had difficulty imagining that such a space could be forgotten in a castle filled with so many people, but—

The ground was covered with dust. Not even a hint of a footprint.

Knowing how the story always went, Celaena lifted the candle to the arches above the portals, looking for any inscriptions regarding the sure death that would meet her if she walked beneath a specific arch.

She took stock of the ball of yarn in her hand. Now it was little more than a lump of string. She set down her candle and tied another ball to the end of the string. Perhaps she should have taken another. Well, at least she still had the chalk.

"How the story always went"? Does this world run on D&D rules, or what?

She takes the middle passageway, for no other reason than it being closer. Well, I suppose that's as good a reason as any.

The passage starts becoming damp and cold, and soon she can hear running water. What's more, she can make out the natural light of the moon. It turns out that she has reached...the sewers!

Celaena stared at the sewer that ran past, flowing straight out of the castle. It smelled unpleasant, to say the least.

She stood along the side, examining the open gate that led to a wide stream that undoubtedly emptied into the sea or the Avery. There were no guards, and no locks, save for the iron fence that hovered over the surface, raised just enough to allow trash to pass through.

Four little boats were tied to either bank, and there were several other doors—some wooden, some iron—that led to this exit. It was probably an escape route for the king, though from the half-rotted condition of some of the boats, she wondered if he knew that it was here.

Wait, this is just the opening to Oblivion, isn't it? I'm sure it will be revealed that the whole place is infested with rats and goblins.

She grabs a stone and hurls into the water beyond the gate, and after hearing nothing but silence she concludes that there aren't any guards patrolling outside. There's a lever that can be used to raise the gate, and for a moment she ponders escaping:

She knew that she could easily escape, and that it would be foolish to do so. The king would find her, somehow. And Chaol would be disgraced and relieved of his position. And Princess Nehemia would be left alone with moronic company, and, well . . .

Celaena straightened, her chin rising. She would not run from them as a common criminal. She would face them—face the king—and earn her freedom the honorable way. And why not take advantage of the free food and training for a while longer? Not to mention she'd need to stock up on provisions for her escape, and that could take weeks. Why rush any of it?

Well, yes, if she decided to just bugger off now the story would be over, wouldn't it? She heads back to the point where the passage split into three, and she suddenly starts hearing whispering from one of the corridors:

Whispers lay beneath the breeze, speaking to her in forgotten languages. She shuddered, and decided to go in the opposite direction—to take the far left portal. Following whispers on Samhuinn could only lead to trouble.

Gee, that's a disappointment. Can't go that way...there might be something interesting down there!

The passage she takes leads her upwards, until she starts hearing music. Soon she reaches a bronze gate that overlooks great hall of the castle, and Celaena wonders if these halls were used for spying on people. She looks down and sees Chaol talking and laughing with some old man:

His happiness made her own face flush in response, and Celaena set down her candle. She peered at the other end of the massive hall; there were a few other grates just below the ceiling, though she could see no other squinting eyes beyond their ornate metalwork. Celaena shifted her gaze to the dancers. Among them were a few of the champions, dressed finely, but not finely enough to conceal their poor dancing. Nox, who had now become her sparring and training partner, danced as well, perhaps a bit more elegantly than the others—though she still pitied the ladies who danced with him. But—

The other Champions were allowed to attend, and she wasn't? She gripped the grate, pressing her face against it to get a better look. Sure enough, there were more Champions seated at the tables—even the pimply-faced Pelor sat near Chaol! A half-rate boy assassin! She bared her teeth. How dare she be denied an invitation to the feast? The tightness in her chest abated only slightly when she couldn't find Cain's face among the revelers. At least they kept him locked up in a cage, too.

Well this whole digression has been a real let-down. When Celaena first discovered the hidden door I was genuinely curious about what might lie beyond, but it turned out it was just a means for our "heroine" to spy on one of her love interests and get pissy about how unfairly she's being treated.

She sees Dorian dancing with "some blonde idiot" and gets even more pissy about how she wasn't invited to the feast. She doesn't want to stare at him, but she can't help herself because he's, like, soooooo dreamy. Then she realises what might happen if Chaol goes to her room and finds her missing, so she hurries back.

Now, obviously these passages will come into play later in the story (at least they'd better), but man...what a missed opportunity for something interesting to happen.

We cut to Dorian's perspective as he sneaks into Celaena's room while she's sleeping.

:facepalm:

It's a running gag at this point just how many times someone just casually strolls into Celaena's room while she's sleeping...and remember, this is supposedly the world's deadliest assassin who rigged the door to make a loud noise when it opened. Oh, and Dorian is so drunk at this point that he can barely stand. So yes, drunk guy casually wandering into a woman's room while she sleeps...not exactly a very good look, I must say.

He knew her somehow. And he knew she wouldn't harm him. It made little sense. When they talked, as sharp as her words usually were, he felt at ease, as if he could say anything. And she must have felt the same, after she'd told him about Sam, whoever he'd been. So here he was, in the middle of the night. She flirted with him, but was it real? A footstep sounded, and he found Chaol standing across the foyer.

The captain stalked over to Dorian and grabbed him by the arm. Dorian knew better than to struggle as his friend dragged him through the foyer, and stopped in front of the door to the hall. "What are you doing here?" Chaol hissed softly.

"What are you doing here?" Dorian countered, trying to keep his voice quiet. It was the better question, too. If Chaol spent so much time warning him about the dangers of associating with Celaena, what was he doing here in the middle of the night?

"By the Wyrd, Dorian! She's an assassin. Please, please tell me you haven't been here before." Dorian couldn't help his smirk. "I don't even want an explanation. Just get out, you reckless idiot. Get out." Chaol grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, and Dorian might have punched his friend had Chaol not been so lightning fast. Before he knew it, he was roughly tossed into the hallway, and the door closed and locked behind him.

Dorian, for some reason, didn't sleep well that night.

We cut back to Chaol's point of view, where he angsts about blowing up at his friend like that. Of course, he just can't help staring at Celaena while she sleeps (this is creepy as hell, BTW):

Chaol Westfall took a deep breath. What was he doing here? Had he any right to treat the Crown Prince of Adarlan in such a manner when he himself was going against reason? He didn't understand the rage that arose upon seeing Dorian standing in the doorway, didn't want to understand that sort of anger. It wasn't jealousy, but something beyond it. Something that transformed his friend into someone else, someone he didn't know. He was fairly certain she was a virgin, but did Dorian know it? It probably made him more interested. He sighed and eased the door open, wincing as it creaked loudly.

She was still in her clothes, and while she looked beautiful, that did nothing to mask the killing potential that lay beneath. It was present in her strong jaw, in the slope of her eyebrows, in the perfect stillness of her form. She was a honed blade made by the King of Assassins for his own profit. She was a sleeping animal—a mountain cat or a dragon—and her markings of power were everywhere. He shook his head and walked into the bedroom.

Well, that whole bit about her still being a virgin came out of nowhere, didn't it? Like, how the hell would he know anything about her sexual history?

Oh, but it turns out he brought her a present, so I guess it's all good, then:

Let me see it." She lazily extended an arm.

He fished in his pockets and pulled out the gift. "Here." He placed it in her palm.

She examined it, smiling drowsily. "A ring." She put it on. "How pretty." It was simple: crafted of silver, its only ornamentation lay in the fingernail-sized amethyst embedded in its center. The surface of the gem was smooth and round, and it gleamed up at the assassin like a purple eye. "Thank you," she said, her eyelids drooping.

"You're wearing your gown, Celaena." His blush refused to fade.

"I'll change in a moment." He knew she wouldn't. "I just need . . . to rest." Then she was asleep, a hand upon her breast, the ring hovering over her heart. With a disgruntled sigh, the captain grabbed a blanket from the nearby sofa and tossed it over her. He was half tempted to remove the ring from her finger, but . . . Well, there was something peaceful looking about her. Rubbing his neck, his face still burning, he walked from her rooms, wondering how, exactly, he'd explain this to Dorian tomorrow.

😫 🤢 🤮

WestOrEast · Nov 10, 2021

The Victorian said:
We then move on to Chapter 24, which opens with Celaena lying in bed, unable to sleep. She's staring at an old tapestry on the wall, and then she notices that it's moving on its own. She checks the windows, and they're shut. After getting up and looking behind the tapestry, she discovers a pair of vertical grooves in the wall behind it, clearly indicating a hidden door. She manages to push it open, and finds a dark passage within. Strangely, the wind starts blowing on her back, when earlier it had been blowing the tapestry out. SpoooOOOOooooky!

Wow, okay, you know, I'd kind of assumed that the best assassin in the world would have checked her room for little secrets, especially the kind that can be discovered by twitching a few pounds of cloth out of the way. More fool me, huh?

The Victorian · Nov 13, 2021

Chapter 25 opens with yet another dream sequence. In it, Celaena finds herself walking down the hidden passage she discovered earlier. When the passage splits in there, she chooses the rightmost one, as it smells of roses.

A bronze knocker in the form of a skull hung in its center. It seemed to be smiling. She waited for that terrible breeze, or to hear someone cry, or for it to become cold and damp. But it was still warm, and it still smelled lovely, and so Celaena, with a bit of mustered courage, turned the handle. Without a sound, the door swung open.

She expected to find a dark, forgotten room, but this was something far different. A shaft of moonlight shot through a small hole in the ceiling, falling upon the face of a beautiful marble statue lying upon a stone slab. No—not a statue. A sarcophagus. It was a tomb.

Trees were carved into the stone ceiling, and they stretched above the sleeping female figure. A second sarcophagus had been placed beside the woman, depicting a man. Why was the woman's face bathed in moonlight and the man's in darkness?

She notices that the statue of the woman has a mark carved into...which resembles one of the Wyrdmarks she'd seen earlier. She also notices that the floor of the tomb depicts the night sky, while the ceiling depicts the earth. "Why were they reversed?" she wonders. I don't know...maybe they had a bad case of Troper Brain and thought they were SUBVERTING TROPES, LOL.

She sees the words "Ah! Time's Rift!" etched into the stone at the feet of the queen. The she notices that the queen has pointed ears...indicating she's either an ~~elf or a half-elf~~ Fae or a Half-Fae, which could only meant the statues depicted the first king and queen of Adarlan, Gavin and Elena. But something seems off...if these people were so important, then why was their tomb apparently forgotten?

More importantly, what are the odds that Celaena has A: Fae ancestry, B: royal ancestry, or C: both? Right now it's approaching 100%.

Against the far wall of the chamber sat piles of jewels and weapons. A sword was prominently displayed before a suit of golden armor. She knew that sword. She stepped toward the treasure. It was the legendary sword of Gavin, the sword he had wielded in the fierce wars that had almost ripped apart the continent, the sword that had slain the Dark Lord Erawan. Even after a thousand years, it hadn't rusted. Though magic might have vanished, it seemed that the power that had forged the blade lived on. "Damaris," she whispered, naming the blade.

"You know your history," said a light, female voice, and Celaena jumped, yelping as she tripped over a spear and fell into a gold-filled chest. The voice laughed. Celaena grappled for a dagger, a candlestick, anything. But then she saw the owner of the voice, and froze.

She was beautiful beyond reckoning. Her silver hair flowed around her youthful face like a river of moonlight. Her eyes were a crystal, sparkling blue, and her skin was white as alabaster. And her ears were ever so slightly pointed.

"Who are you?" the assassin breathed, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it.

"You know who I am," Elena Havilliard said.

Her likeness had been perfectly rendered on the sarcophagus. Celaena didn't move from where she had fallen into the chest, despite her throbbing spine and legs. "Are you a ghost?"

She says that she's a spirit, and that she's "risked much coming here to tonight." Elena mentions something called "The Eight Guardians" and how they're distracted at the moment. Celaena realises that she is referring to the gargoyles on the clock tower (I'm not entirely sure how she made that leap of logic, but okay), and Elena says that they are a portal between their two worlds.

"Something evil dwells in this castle, something wicked enough to make the stars quake. Its malice echoes into all worlds," the queen went on. "You must stop it. Forget your friendships, forget your debts and oaths. Destroy it, before it is too late, before a portal is ripped open so wide that there can be no undoing it." Her head whipped around, as if she heard something. "Oh, there is no time," she said, the whites of her eyes showing. "You must win this competition and become the King's Champion. You understand the people's plight. Erilea needs you as the King's Champion."

"But what is—"

The queen reached into her pockets. "They must not catch you here. If they do—all will be lost. Wear this." She pushed something cold and metallic into Celaena's hand. "It will protect you from harm." She yanked Celaena to the door. "You were led here tonight. But not by me. I was led here, too. Someone wants you to learn; someone wants you to see . . ." Her head snapped to the side as a growl rippled through the air. "They are coming," she whispered.

Celaena flees, and then awakes from her dream. Which meant that none of it was real...until she notices a metal amulet in her hands.

Made of intricate bands of metal, within the round border of the amulet lay two overlapping circles, one on top of the other. In the space that they shared was a small blue gem that gave the center of the amulet the appearance of an eye. A line ran straight through the entire thing. It was beautiful, and strange, and—

Celaena faced the tapestry. The door was slightly ajar.

She jumped from the bed, slamming into the wall so hard that her shoulder made an ugly cracking noise. Despite the pain, she rushed to the door and pulled it tightly shut. The last thing she needed was for whatever was down there to wind up in her rooms. Or to have Elena show up again.

Panting, Celaena stepped back, surveying the tapestry. The woman's figure rose up from behind the wooden chest. With a jolt, she realized it was Elena; she stood just where the door was. A clever marker.

Celaena threw more logs onto the fire, quickly changed into her nightgown, and slid into bed, clutching her makeshift knife. The amulet lay where she had left it. It will protect you . . .

Of course, "find and destroy the secret evil within the castle" is easier said than done, especially when people keep barging into your room while you're sleeping. Speaking of which, it's just about time for that to happen once again...

The doors to her bedroom banged open, and Celaena was on her feet in an instant, a candlestick in hand.

But Chaol took no notice of her as he stormed in, his jaw clenched. She groaned and slumped back onto her bed. "Don't you ever sleep?" she grumbled, pulling the covers over herself. "Weren't you celebrating into the wee hours of the morning?"

He put a hand on his sword as he ripped back the blankets and dragged her out of bed by the elbow. "Where were you last night?"

Yep, I called it!

The reason he's asking is that another champion was found dead, specifically Xavier, and his body was half-eaten. Once Chaol leaves, she once again heads down into the hidden passageway, but doesn't find anything useful in the queen's tomb. She heads off the library, wearing a white and pink gown that has people's heads turning, but her enthusiasm is dampened somewhat when she stumbles across Xavier's corpse. Someone had evidently cut his chest open and removed his vital organs, and yes...his brain is gone, too. Once again, reminding me of Spock's Brain is a great way turn something horrible into something hilarious.

To make matters worse, someone has painted Wyrdmarks on the wall with his blood. What a killjoy THAT must be! Imagine strutting around in an absolutely fabulous dress and having all the boys drooling over you, and then suddenly you stumble across a scene right out of Event Horizon.

No wonder Chaol had looked so disheveled this morning! She straightened. He'd thought she did this? Fool. If she wanted to knock off her competitors one by one, she'd do it quick and clean—a slit throat, a knife in the heart, a poisoned glass of wine. This was just plain tasteless. And strange; the Wyrdmarks made this something more than a brutal killing. Ritualistic, perhaps.

Tasteless? That's...uh...not the word I would have used to describe this situation, even if I were an assassin. "Unprofessional," perhaps. But "tasteless"?

We cut to Chaol and Dorian sparring with each other, and of course they get to teasing each other about Celaena:

Chaol deflected, feigned, then thrust so hard that Dorian stepped back. His temper rose. "Meetings which you used as an excuse to start arguing with Duke Perrington." Dorian made a wide sweep of his sword, and Chaol took up the defensive. "Or maybe you're just too busy visiting Sardothien's rooms in the middle of the night." Sweat dripped from Chaol's brow. "How long has that been going on?"

Dorian growled as Chaol switched to the offensive, and conceded step after step, his thighs aching. "It's not what you think," he said through his teeth. "I don't spend my nights with her. Aside from last night, I've only visited her once, and she was less than warm, don't worry."

"At least one of you has some common sense." Chaol delivered each blow with such precision that Dorian had to admire him. "Because you've clearly lost your mind."

Neither of them seem to realise that sneaking into a woman's room while she's sleeping is hella creepy.

Chaol asks Dorian where his father buggered off to, and he says he doesn't know, except that he's probably off "doing something particularly nasty." And because the Beavis and Butthead portion of my brain is acting up, I immediately that statement in the dirtiest way possible.

"Be careful what you say, Dorian."

"Or what? You'll throw me in the dungeons?" He didn't mean to snap, but he'd barely gotten any sleep the night before, and this Champion winding up dead did nothing to improve his mood. When Chaol didn't bother retorting, Dorian asked: "Do you think someone wants to kill all the Champions?"

"Perhaps. I can understand wanting to kill the competition, but to do it so viciously . . . I hope it's not a pattern."

Dorian's blood went a bit cold. "You think they'll try to kill Celaena?"

"I added some extra guards around her rooms."

"To protect her, or to keep her in?"

They stopped at the hallway crossroads where they would part ways to their separate rooms. "What difference does it make?" Chaol said quietly. "You don't seem to care either way. You'll visit her no matter what I say, and the guards won't stop you because you're the prince."

You hope it's not a pattern!!???

Three Champions have been murdered in an extremely bizarre and brutal fashion, and you wondering there might be some pattern to killings? Frankly, I'm beginning to suspect that Celaena isn't actually a great assassin, but rather every single guard in the world is bumbling oaf.

The Victorian · Nov 15, 2021

Welcome back to another episode of Court of Beer and Hamster. Or was that Throne of Chainsaw and Weasel? I can never remember the titles of these YA fantasy series...

Anyway, Chapter 27 opens with Celaena observing the gargoyles on the clocktower and the Wyrdmarks surrounding it, and she wonders why the spirit of Elena had to be oblique in her directions. Nehemia shows up and tells her once more that she shouldn't bother trying to learn about the Wyrdmarks, believing that nothing good can come of it.

"You look troubled," Nehemia said when Celaena reached her side, and put a hand on her arm.

"I'm fine," Celaena said in Eyllwe, smiling for Nehemia's sake. "I don't like winter."

"I've never seen snow," Nehemia said, looking at the sky. "I wonder how long the novelty will last."

"Hopefully long enough for you to not mind the drafty corridors, freezing mornings, and days without sunshine."

Nehemia laughed. "You should come to Eyllwe with me when I return—and make sure you stay long enough to experience one of our blistering summers. Then you'll appreciate your freezing mornings and days without sun."

"Listen you jumped-up little hussy, you think you have it rough because you have snow? We've got sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere..."

The conversation shifts to the topic of Xavier's murder. Nehemia wants to know all the gory details, and Celaena obliges her. Just then Cain decides to show up, which results in some predictable back-and-forth trading of insults:

Cain's tan face twisted in a sneer. Somehow, he'd gotten bigger—or maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. "Pretending to be a lady doesn't mean you are one," he said. Celaena shot Nehemia a look, but the princess's eyes remained upon Cain—narrowed, but her lips strangely slack.

But Cain wasn't done, and his attention shifted to Nehemia. His lips pulled back, revealing his gleaming white teeth. "Neither does wearing a crown make you a real princess—not anymore."

Celaena took a step closer to him. "Shut your stupid mouth, or I'll punch your teeth down your throat and shut it for you."

Cain let out a sharp laugh, which Verin echoed. The thief circled behind them, and Celaena straightened, wondering if they'd actually pick a fight here. "Lots of barking from the prince's lapdog," Cain said. "But does she have any fangs?"

She felt Nehemia's hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off as she took another step toward him, close enough for the curls of his breath to touch her face. Inside the castle, the guards remained loitering about, talking amongst themselves. "You'll find out when my fangs are buried in your neck," she said.

"Thou calledst me dog before thou hadst a cause.

But since I am a dog, beware my fangs."

- The Merchant of Venice, Act 3, Scene 3

I'm pretty sure this was not intended to be a reference to Shakespeare, but it's the first thing that popped into my head.

Cain is all like "Bring it!" and he lets it slip that he knows her real identity.

Well folks, we're about halfway through the novel and while it's spent a great deal of time telling us that Celaena is some master assassin, it hasn't done anything to actually show us that this is the case. When you, as an author, continually hype up a character as being incredibly competent at something, then every time you do so you're writing an IOU to the reader. At some point those IOUs are going to come due, and if you don't have anything to show them then they're probably going to throw your book at the wall.

And now that we're building to a confrontation between Cain and Celaena, now would be a perfect time to prove that she really is all that she claims she is.

Celaena clenched her hand. Two blows, and he'd be on the ground, struggling to breathe. Another blow after that, and Verin would be beside him.

"Lillian," Nehemia said in the common tongue, taking her by the hand. "We have business. Let us go."

"That's right," Cain said. "Follow her around like the lapdog you are."

Celaena's hand trembled. If she hit him . . . If she hit him, if she got into a brawl right here and the guards had to pull them apart, Chaol might not let her see Nehemia again, let alone leave her rooms after lessons, or stay late to practice with Nox. So Celaena smiled and rolled her shoulders as she said brightly: "Shove it up your ass, Cain."

Cain and Verin laughed, but she and Nehemia walked away, the princess holding her hand tightly. Not from fear or anger, but just to tell her that she understood . . . that she was there. Celaena squeezed her hand back. It had been a while since someone had looked out for her, and Celaena had the feeling she could get used to it.

Well, damn.

Cut to Chaol watching Celaena punch a training dummy. He's invited Dorian to come and watch her, hoping that his will prove that she's dangerous. I don't know how this will convince him...I mean, he already knows she was a deadly assassin once. Naturally, he's not persuaded, and Chaol sulks about it.

Celaena heads off to the library to research Wyrdmarks, but all the books she finds on the matter are full of "scribbled nonsense" (which makes me wonder why the library even has them in their collection).

So far, she hadn't learned much: according to one book, Wyrdmarks were an alphabet. Though, according to this book, no grammar existed with the Wyrdmarks: everything was just symbols that one had to string together. And they changed meaning depending on the marks around them. They were painfully difficult to draw; they required precise lengths and angles, or they became something else entirely.

Well, of course they don't have grammar: it's a writing system, not a language. Chaol yells at her to stop glowering and sulking (In a YA novel? Are you serious?), and then he asks her what she's reading. She gives him a half-truth (that she's researching the Wyrdmarks she saw on the clocktower), but none of the books have any kind of useful information in them.

From what she's gathered, some people believe that Wyrdmarks are used to summon Wyrdgates, which can be used to enter other realms, and that sometimes otherworldly creatures can slither through onto the Prime Material Plane (or whatever it's called here). She heads back to the shelves and pulls out...a copy of The Walking Dead.

Yes, that's literally what the book is called.

She didn't remember selecting this from the shelves. It reeked, almost like soil, and Celaena's nose crinkled as she turned the pages. She scanned for any sign of the Wyrdmarks, or any mention of a Wyrdgate, but she soon found something far more interesting.

An illustration of a twisted, half-decayed face grinned at her, flesh falling from its bones. The air chilled, and Celaena rubbed her arms. Where had she found this? How had this escaped the burnings? How had any of these books escaped the purging fires ten years ago?

Oh shit, she's stumbled across Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark!

As she starts reading it, she hears a strange scraping sound, as if something were running a fingernail along the ceiling below. Sufficiently creeped out, she stuffs the book back onto the shelf and leaves.

The next chapter opens with Celaena playing pool. Well, trying to play pool...she's not very good at it:

Celaena jabbed the cue, and hit the ball with such force that it zoomed toward the back wall of the table, knocking three colored balls out of its way before it collided with the number three ball, sending it shooting straight for a hole.

It stopped rolling at the edge of the pocket.

A shriek of rage ripped from her throat, and Celaena ran over to the pocket. She first screamed at the ball, then took the cue in her hands and bit down upon the shaft, still screaming through her clamped teeth. Finally the assassin stopped and slapped the three ball into the pocket.

You know, I've never been trained as an assassin, but if you've ever talked with someone who's studied martial arts or undergone military training then you know that one of the most important things they teach you is discipline. And part of learning discipline means learning not to fly off the handle when you encounter a minor setback.

Dorian is watching from the doorway, and correct asserts that this is pretty a pathetic for the "world's greatest assassin." He tries to show her how to hit the ball properly...and get some physical contact going at the same time:

"You're not moving your body the correct way. Here, just let me show you."

Though it was the oldest and most shameless trick in the book, he reached over her and put his hand on top of the one that gripped the cue. He then positioned the fingers of her other hand on the wood before lightly gripping her wrist. To Dorian's dismay, his face became warm.

His eyes shifted to her, and, to his relief, he found that she was as red as he, if not more so.

"If you don't stop feeling and start instructing, I'm going to rip out your eyes and replace them with these billiard balls."

The two decide to have a game, and every time she fails to hit the ball she curses a blue streak. Damn, I've met Counter-Strike players who weren't this salty.

Dorian was slumped in an armchair, resting his head on a hand. She lay sprawled across the chair facing his, her legs dangling off an arm. She stared at the fire, her eyelids half-closed. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. She let her head drop onto the arm of the chair. "Do you think Xavier and the other Champion murders were intentional?"

I'm sorry, but what? The very definition of "murder" is an intentional killing.

He walks her back to her room, and we close out this rather pointless chapter.

Valmond · Nov 16, 2021

The Victorian said:
The next chapter opens with Celaena playing pool. Well, trying to play pool...she's not very good at it:

At first i read this as playing fool, and was very confused by how she would be suddenly bad at it.

Kuja · Nov 16, 2021

I want to comment on this thread more often but man. This book is just...bland. And dumb, but not even dumb in a fun way, it's just competent enough to not be screamingly terrible but still nowhere near good. Maybe if I was 16 again and I'd picked this up by mistake in place of a Warhammer fantasy novel I'd find it mildly interesting enough to justify reading it, but even then so much of it just feels like going through the motions. Castle intrigue, secret passages, gruesome murders, meh.

At least when something is skull-fucking insane or virulently hateful you can write so many words pulling it apart, but here it really does just feel like...story of a badass female assassin as concepted by an actual 17 year old. I feel like the stereotypical joke about the old person rewatching The Little Mermaid for the first time in 20 years and going "my god how did I ever identify with this girl 16 is way too young for any of this." Although if this book ends with Chaol ramming a ship into a kaiju I will be duly impressed.

The Victorian · Nov 19, 2021

Chapter 29 opens mid-test, with Celaena watching Cain and Grave spar with each other. They're using swords, so I hope they're blunted or rebated, because the last thing you want to accidentally cut someone and have them bleed to death or die of an infected wound.

We got some more bickering and taunting among the competitors, while Celaena seethes over the fact that Cain knows her real identity. Hey lady, weren't you complaining that you had to fight under an assumed identity? Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

"Look out, Cain," Verin said from beside her. The curly-headed thief grinned at her. She hadn't been thrilled when it had been announced she was to spar against Verin. But at least it wasn't Nox. "Little lady wants a piece of you."

"Watch yourself, Verin," Nox warned, his gray eyes burning.

"What?" Verin said. Now the other Champions—and everyone else—were turning to them. Pelor, who had been lingering nearby, retreated a few steps. Smart move. "Defending her, are you?" Verin taunted. "Is that the bargain? She opens her legs, and you keep an eye on her during practice?"

"Shut your mouth, you damned pig," Celaena snapped. Chaol and Dorian pushed off from where they both leaned against the wall, coming closer to the ring.

"Or what?" Verin said, nearing her. Nox stiffened, his hand drifting to his sword.

But Celaena refused to back down. "Or I'll rip out your tongue."

"That's enough!" Brullo barked. "Take it out in the ring. Verin. Lillian. Now."

The dialogue crackles like that in a David Mamet film!

So FINALLY, after almost thirty chapters, we finally have a chance to see our heroine do...well...something impressive.

He swung, but Celaena struck, ramming her fist into his arm, sending the blade soaring through the air. In the same breath, her palm hit his left arm, knocking it aside, too. As he staggered back, her leg came up, and Verin's eyes bulged as her foot slammed into his chest. The kick sent him flying, and his body crunched as it hit the floor and slid out of the ring, instantly eliminating him. The hall was utterly silent.

"Mock me again," she spat at Verin, "and I'll do that with my sword the next time." She turned from him, and found Brullo's face slack. "Here's a lesson for you, Weapons Master," she said, stalking past him. "Give me real men to fight. Then maybe I'll bother trying."

Well that was anti-climactic...

She heads back to her room and thinks wistfully about how she'd always wanted to go on an adventure, but she'd always assumed that she'd have friends along with her. She thinks back to Elena's words about "finding the evil within the castle," but the only evil she can think of is the man ruling it.

We then cut to Kaltain, grumbling to herself about how Duke Perrington desires her (and how she could easily be made duchess), but nothing less than Prince Dorian will satisfy her. She wants to be queen, damn it! She talks to Queen Georgina, but she's only interested in hearing about him finding a young, unmarried woman he favours.

Chapter 30 opens with Celaena doing some archery training with Chaol, where she lets it slip that Cain knows who she is.

"A few days ago," she lied. It had been weeks since their confrontation. "I was in the garden with Nehemia—with my guards, don't worry—and he approached us. He knows all about me—and knows that I hold back when we're with the other Champions."

"Did he lead you to believe that the other Champions know about you?"

"No," she said. "I don't think they do. Nox doesn't have a clue."

Chaol put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "It's going to be fine. The element of surprise is gone, that's all. You'll still beat Cain in the duels."

She half smiled. "You know, it's starting to sound like you actually believe in me. You'd better be careful."

He began to say something, but running footsteps sounded from around the corner, and he paused. Two guards skidded to a stop and saluted them. Chaol gave them a moment to collect their breath before he said, "Yes?"

One of the guards, an aging man with thinning hair, saluted a second time and said, "Captain—you're needed."

Though his features remained neutral, Chaol's shoulders shifted, and his chin rose a bit higher. "What is it?" he said, a bit too quickly to pass for unconcerned.

"Another body," replied the guard. "In the servant's passages."

Oh, what are you so worried about? It's probably just a drunken brawl or something...

They discover the body of Verin, which has been torn open and mutilated like the others. And just like before, there are Wyrdmarks surrounding it, drawn in chalk. There a deep claw marks on the floor, but there's no blood in them, and Celaena assumes that this means that the killer sharpened his claws before killing Verin. That seems like kind of an odd assumption (since you'd think that scratching claws into a stone floor would dull them), but she concludes that the killer had time to do that before attacking. She also notices that the torches are burnt to stubs, meaning they were burning all night, so they couldn't have snuck up on their victim.

"So why get near it?" she asked, more to herself than anything. "What if it wasn't an animal, but a person? And what if that person disabled Verin long enough for them to summon this creature?" She pointed to Verin's legs. "Those are clean cuts around his ankles. His tendons were snapped by a knife, to keep him from running." She moved next to the body, taking care not to disturb the Wyrdmarks etched into the ground as she lifted Verin's rigid, cold hand. "Look at his fingernails." She swallowed hard. "The tips are cracked and shattered." She used her own nail to scrape out the dirt beneath his nails, and smeared it across her palm. "See?" She held out her hand out for Chaol to observe. "Dust and bits of stone." She pulled aside Verin's arm, revealing faint lines in the stone beneath. "Fingernail marks. He was desperate to get away—to drag himself by his fingertips, if necessary. He was alive the entire time that thing sharpened its claws on the stone while its master watched."

"Looks like someone wanted to..." *puts on sunglasses* "...hamstring the competition."

YEEEAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!

Anyway, Celaena starts wondering if the evil force that Elena and the killer are one and the same. She then heads off to the library to do some research on the Wyrdmarks she found near Verin's body, but can't find anything useful. She eventually falls asleep, and you know what THAT means!

"Oh, good. I hoped you'd still be awake," the Crown Prince said, and Celaena jumped from her seat to find Dorian approaching. He looked tired and a bit ruffled.

She opened her mouth, then shook her head. "What are you doing here? It's almost midnight, and I've got a Test tomorrow." She couldn't deny having him here was a bit of a relief—the murderer only seemed to attack Champions when they were alone.

"Have you moved from literature to history?" He surveyed the books on the table. "A Brief History of Modern Erilea," he read. "Symbols and Power. Eyllwe Culture and Customs." He raised an eyebrow.

"I read what I like."

Urge to make...snarky remark...about this book...RISING....

Dorian mentions that one of his dogs gave birth to a pack of mongrels, when he was hoping for purebreds. He then tries to get to know her a little better, and she simply responds that "she's an assassin" and that's all that he needs to know.

Except we haven't actually seen her assassinate anyone yet. It's at this point that I'm beginning to wonder if the author got all her ideas about assassins from video games. Seriously, I can just imagine her seeing characters like Zevran from Dragon Age or Thane from Mass Effect 2 and deciding that she wanted to make a character like those, but never actually stopped to consider what being an assassin actually means.

Dorian promises to ask only on question: why she likes music so much.

"No, no. That question is fine." She let out a long breath through her nose and stared at the table. "I like music," she said slowly, "because when I hear it, I . . . I lose myself within myself, if that makes sense. I become empty and full all at once, and I can feel the whole earth roiling around me. When I play, I'm not . . . for once, I'm not destroying. I'm creating." She chewed on her lip. "I used to want to be a healer. Back when I was . . . Back before this became my profession, when I was almost too young to remember, I wanted to be a healer." She shrugged. "Music reminds me of that feeling." She laughed under her breath. "I've never told anyone that," she admitted, then saw his smile. "Don't mock me."

Well, it's still not too late to take some additional Cleric levels!

Since she's answered his question, she decides it's only fair that she get to ask him one question about himself. And she chooses, "Why aren't you married?"

He looked at the window and the snow that swirled beyond. "I'm not married," he said softly, "because I can't stomach the idea of marrying a woman inferior to me in mind and spirit. It would mean the death of my soul."

Good god, this sounds like something Ignatius J. Reilly would say.

Celaena (correctly) points out that he's a prince, and that marriage for royalty and nobility was usually for political reasons. But Dorian responds that his family doesn't have to worry about strengthening political ties because his father just conquers every single kingdom he comes across. Wow, that's a lot like how I play Crusader Kings 3, actually.

"You could easily love some woman on the side. Marriage doesn't mean you can't love other people."

His sapphire eyes flashed. "You marry the person you love—and none other," he said, and she laughed. "You're mocking me! You're laughing in my face!"

"You deserve to be laughed at for such foolish thoughts! I spoke from my soul; you speak only from selfishness."

"You're remarkably judgmental."

"What's the point in having a mind if you don't use it to make judgments?"

"What's the point in having a heart if you don't use it to spare others from the harsh judgments of your mind?"

"Oh, well said, Your Highness!" He stared at her sullenly. "Come now. I didn't wound you that severely."

"You've attempted to ruin my dreams and ideals. I get enough from my mother as it is. You're just being cruel."

"Attempted to my ruin my dreams and ideals"? Wow, that too sounds like something Ignatius Reilly would say! What's next...lecturing Celaena about proper geometry and theology?

We get some more "romantic" banter where he talks about the colour of her eyes, and she's all like "flattery will get you nowhere." And Celaena realises to her growing horror that she actually likes him.

All right, time out. Just what exactly is it about Dorian and Chaol that she finds attractive beyond their looks? I realise that I'm not really qualified to judge romantic relationships, but I'm not really seeing anything beyond the physical here. At least she and Nehemia actually had some kind of rapport and shared interests.

Cut to Chaol pondering the question of who might be behind the killings. He's in the dining hall, watching Duke Perrington, and every so often he notices a strange expression come over the duke's face:

He'd seen how the duke used his size and title to win allies on the king's council and keep opponents from challenging him. But it wasn't his maneuverings that had captured the interest of the Captain of the Guard tonight. Rather, it was the moments between the grins and laughter, when a shadow passed across the duke's face. It wasn't an expression of anger or of disgust, but a shade that clouded his eyes. It was so strange that when Chaol had first seen it, he'd extended his dinner just to see if it happened again.

A few moments later, it did. Perrington's eyes became dark and his face cleared, as if he saw everything in the world for what it was and found no joy or amusement in it. Chaol leaned back in his chair, sipping his water.

Once again he notices a strange look come over the Duke's face when he looks at a black ring on his hand. For a moment it seems as if his eyes have gone completely black, and with that ominous note we end the chapter.

Reveen · Nov 20, 2021

Bitching about how a girl's treating you by comparing her to your mother. That that's fuckin' smooth dude. I can see why he's the kingdom's premier bachelor.

Valmond · Nov 20, 2021

Reveen said:
Bitching about how a girl's treating you by comparing her to your mother. That that's fuckin' smooth dude. I can see why he's the kingdom's premier bachelor.

He's the kingdoms premier bachelor because he is surgically attached to giant wad of cash, a sizeable castle, and ability to be a giant ass to everyone else without any consequences.

Well, not that last one, as has been demonstrated amply by all the coups, assassinations, revolts, and just basic logic, but people looking to marry this dude for prestige probably are not the sharpest of spoons.
Unless step three in the plan is "become the queen dowager" right after "give birth to a male heir.
In which case, good on them, they deserve a better plot than the one that has been inflicted on them.

last admiral · Nov 22, 2021

Valmond said:
Well, not that last one, as has been demonstrated amply by all the coups, assassinations, revolts, and just basic logic, but people looking to marry this dude for prestige probably are not the sharpest of spoons.

Or just those people who already planned to have him have "heart attack" or "hunting accident" after make sure sure they get pregnant with his child.

Reveen · Nov 22, 2021

last admiral said:
Or just those people who already planned to have him have "heart attack" or "hunting accident" after make sure sure they get pregnant with his child.

I guess it depends on how annoying he is to actually live with. If he's constantly barging in the chambers of a convicting fucking assassin in the middle of the night looking for attention only to turn around and start complaining about her to her face I can't imagine what it'd be like to be married to him.

Valmond · Nov 22, 2021

Reveen said:
I guess it depends on how annoying he is to actually live with. If he's constantly barging in the chambers of a convicting fucking assassin in the middle of the night looking for attention only to turn around and start complaining about her to her face I can't imagine what it'd be like to be married to him.

And all that over tavern brawls.
Seriously, the night life in this city has to be pretty hardcore.

The Victorian · Nov 29, 2021

Hmm, it really is a running gag how often people just barge into Celaena's room while she's sleeping. They can't keep getting away with this, can they?

Someone was standing at the foot of her bed.

Celaena knew this long before she opened her eyes, and she eased her hand beneath her pillow, pulling out the makeshift knife she'd crafted of pins, string, and soap.

"That's unnecessary," a woman said, and Celaena sat upright at the sound of Elena's voice. "And would be wholly ineffective."

Her blood went cold at the sight of the shimmering specter of the first Queen of Adarlan. Though Elena looked fully formed, the edges of her body gleamed as though made from starlight. Her long, silver hair flowed around her beautiful face, and she smiled as Celaena set down her miserably pathetic knife. "Hello, child," the queen said.

"What do you want?" Celaena demanded, but kept her voice down. Was she dreaming, or could the guards hear her? She tensed, her legs preparing to leap from the bed—perhaps toward the balcony, since Elena stood between her and the door.

Oh come on! Even dead people can't seem to respect her privacy!

Elena tells her that she must win the competition, and to "keep an eye on her right," referring to the hidden passageway.

We then skip forward in time, and the author decides to skip over another test (this one involving knife-throwing). It really is quite bothersome how often the author basically just reduces the events of the competition (you know, the entire basis of the story) to these one sentence summaries. You'd think this would be something they would spend time on, considering that it's through these tests that our protagonists abilities could be shown.

Predictably, another competitor has been found brutally murdered, and now there are only thirteen left. The current test involves poisons: specifically, she has to identify the seven poisons in seven goblets, and rank them from the deadliest to the least deadly. At the end, they have to drink the one they've ranked "least deadly" so there's ample motivation to get it right.

And I am immediately reminded of this:

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMz7JBRbmNo

She looks to her right at one of her competitors, Pelor, whom she remembers as being an expert in poisons.

His eyes flicked to hers, and his chin drooped in a barely detectible nod. He put his hands in his pockets. He was done. Celaena turned to her own goblets before Brullo could catch her.

Poisons. That's what Pelor had said during their first Test. He was trained in poisons.

She glanced at him sidelong. He stood to her right.

Look to your right. You'll find the answers there.

A chill went down her spine. Elena had been telling the truth.

Pelor stared at the clock, watching it count down the seconds until the Test was over. But why help her?

She moved the water glass to the end of the line, and put the wine glass first.

Because aside from her, Cain's favorite Champion to torment was Pelor. And because when she'd been in Endovier, the allies she'd made hadn't been the darlings of the overseers, but the ones the overseers had hated most. The outsiders looked out for each other. None of the other Champions had bothered to pay attention to Pelor—even Brullo, it seemed, had forgotten Pelor's claim that first day. If he'd known, he never would have allowed them to do the Test so publicly.

Time is up, and now it's time for the competitors to drink from the glass they've decided is the least-deadly. The book tells us that antidotes are on hand in case someone makes a mistake...gee, take all the fun out of it, will you?

Cain winds up drinking belladonna, so he's out of the race, it seems, and Nox ends up drinking monkshood.

Celaena glanced at Pelor, whose hazel eyes shone as she lifted the glass of wine to her lips and drank a sip.

Nothing. No strange taste, no immediate sensation. Some poisons could take longer to affect you, but . . .

Brullo extended a fist to her, and her stomach clenched. Was the antidote inside?

But his fingers splayed, and he only clapped her on the back. "The right one—just wine," he said, and the Champions murmured behind him.

He moved on to Pelor—the last Champion—and the youth drank the glass of wine. Brullo grinned at him, grasping his shoulder. "Another winner."

With that we move on to Chapter 32, where we learn that another champion has wound up dead. In the meantime, she's talking with her new friend Nehemia, who decides to show her the dog kennels. Dorian is there as well, which results in some more annoying "banter":

Nehemia pointed to the corner. "Is that dog sick?" she asked. There was a fifth pup, a bit larger than the others, and its coat was a silky, silvery gold that shimmered in the shadows. It opened its dark eyes, as if it knew it was being spoken about, and watched them. It was a beautiful animal, and had Celaena not known better, she would have thought it purebred.

"It's not sick," Dorian said. "It just has a foul disposition. It won't come near anyone—human or canine."

"With good reason," Celaena said, stepping over the legs of the Crown Prince and nearing the fifth pup. "Why should it touch someone like you?"

"If it won't respond to humans, then it will have to be killed," Dorian said offhandedly, and a spark went through Celaena.

"Kill it? Kill it? For what reason? What did it do to you?"

"It won't make a suitable pet, which is what all of these dogs will become."

Celaena huffs and puffs and gets all full of RIGHTEOUS ANGER about how it's wrong to have a dog killed because of its bad temperament. This strikes me as a rather blatant attempt by the author to make the protagonist sympathetic: sure, she might be a totally-unlikable career murderer with a massive ego, but she draws the line at putting down dogs!

One thing I've noticed about a lot of writers is that they have this notion that a character needs to be "morally grey" (ugh), and the way they go about it is to treat characters like they have a typical morality meter in a video game: "Sure, they did X, Y, and Z bad things, but then did this one good thing, so they are not entirely bad! mOrAlLy GrEy!" They never stop to realise that a person's sense of morality (or lack thereof) arises from complex series of factors, such as culture, upbringing, social environment, and life experiences. So why is it that Celaena is so outraged at the idea of a dog being killed? You'd think that someone who was trained as an assassin wouldn't be one to have much regard for the sanctity of life.

Anyway, she makes Dorian swear to keep the dog alive, and Nehemia is all like "Wow, you two have such an obvious connection!" and Celaena is like "Nuh-uh!"

She stares out a window, and then notices Cain standing beside her:

But Cain didn't smile at her, not in that mocking way. Instead, he panted, his mouth opening and closing like a fish wrenched from water. His dark eyes were wide, and he had a hand around his enormous throat. Hopefully, he was choking to death.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sweetly, leaning against the wall. He glanced from side to side, at the guards, at the window, before his eyes snapped to hers. His grip on his throat tightened, as if to silence the words that fought to come out, and the ebony ring on his finger gleamed dully. Even though it should have been impossible, he seemed to have packed on an additional ten pounds of muscle in the past few days. In fact, every time she saw him, Cain seemed bigger and bigger.

Her brows knotted, and she uncrossed her arms. "Cain," she said, but he took off down the hall like a jackrabbit, faster than he should have any ability to run. He peered a few times over his shoulder—not at her, or the confused and murmuring guards, but at something beyond.

Celaena waited until the sounds of his fleeing footsteps faded, then hurried back to her own rooms. She sent messages to Nox and Pelor, not explaining why, but just telling them to stay in their chambers that night and not open the door for anyone.

And with that we end this brief chapter.

Valmond · Nov 29, 2021

Sure, it's just poor writing.
But why would our protagonist be surprised that a dog who can't/won't be near humans would be put down?
It can't act as a companion, can't be trained for hunting, it makes a fairly poor guard if it can't be trained to recognice its owner...
What are they meant to do?
Keep feeding it? Food is expensive in pre modern society, meat especially so.
Let it go? It will just either starve or attack people/farm animals for food.

What does the author think the role of a dog is in medieval society?
Ofcourse i am sure our utterly amoral yet dog loving protagonist can tame to poor hound, so none of my questions will need to be answered. :facepalm:

Let's Read "Throne of Glass" by Sarah Maas

I'M A SQUIIIID

Castro-Trudeauist

Elven Supremacist

Elven Supremacist

Initiate Action: Buzz

Elven Supremacist

Elven Supremacist

Elven Supremacist

Elven Supremacist

I'M A SQUIIIID

Elven Supremacist

Castro-Trudeauist

Castro-Trudeauist

Elven Supremacist