Vale of Dreams (Fey Academy for Spies, #2)

by C.N. Crawford

She sets out my clothes as she talks. “Anyway, my daughter has all sorts of silly ideas. Listens to whatever the cook says because she saw the cook’s bare chest once, and she can’t stop thinking about his muscles. I said to her, Aela, I said, half the men in in Brocéliande have perfect chests. We’re Fey. It’s not like we’re human. We have cheekbones too, you know? Not like humans. Do you know what they look like? I’ve seen one in a picture book. They’re like a bloated toe with a face drawn on. Like a bowl of quince sauce with eyes. That’s not us Fey. And do you know what else? I once caught the cook fondling the uncooked bread dough in a way that I would call…well, I would call it unsavory. I really would, with the look he had on his face. The way he violated that dough with his hands…and do you know what that lump of uncooked dough reminded me of? A human face, really. So, that’s what he fancies, I imagine. Humans. Imagine that.”