Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries (Emily Wilde, #1)

by Heather Fawcett

There was a pattern here in Hrafnsvik;

It’s funny how the practice of such simple, ancient skills can put one at ease.

Changelings require the greatest magic of all, to take a faerie child and embed him in the mortal realm so securely he cannot be removed. And your changeling is especially powerful. And so the courtly fae are drawn here, even if they themselves have no connection to him, perhaps without even realizing they are being drawn.”

I am used to ignoring his good looks, but that hair of his is a difficult matter. I’ve observed that most people are taken in by his smile or his eyes, but for me, it’s that damned hair—one can’t help imagining what it feels like, is the problem.

brushing away a tear.

I like thst the male mc is vulnerable

I have never loved a place like he has, and felt its absence as I would a friend’s. But for a moment, I wished I had, and felt this as its own loss.

“You are even colder than I thought, Em,”

She is cold while he is a softy

“We are all of us cursed. Root and branch, flake and frost, young and old. All allies of the old king share in his downfall and his misery.”

“She is loyal to the king in the tree. The Folk who overthrew him have cursed her and her home, and so she sent her child away to keep him safe. But she has told us that she has more than one child, and thus it would follow that she would wish to preserve the most valuable of her brood—and why else would he be of greater value than the others? Perhaps he is also in greater danger too—the changeling bond would keep him safe.”

They pluck mortals from their homes like apples ripe from the tree, then drain them dry. It is the sort of sport that suits the fancy of many of the nobility.”

It sounds odd to admit that I find the company of such a boisterous person restful, but perhaps it is always restful to be around someone who does not expect anything from you beyond what is in your nature.

“Shall I make an appointment?” he said, then laughed. “Yes, I believe you would like that. Well, name the time when it would be convenient for you to receive a declaration of love.”

“I would order you to do all sorts of terrible things,” I managed, though my voice sounded very far away. “You seem to have a talent for that already.”

“Yes, you would do all that, wouldn’t you? Well then, instead, why don’t you just marry me?”

“Were you expecting me to throw myself at you? Would you have then said a dozen pretty things about my eyes or hair?” “No, it would have been, ‘Get off me, you imposter, and tell me what you did with Emily.’ ”

But then his eyes came open, and he smiled at me with such innocent happiness that my ridiculous heart gave a leap and would have answered him instantly, if it was the organ in charge of my decision-making.

“Being capable is not the same as being inclined, Em.”

he retreated, he seemed to melt into the grey daylight shadows, and I felt a sudden stab of terror. I didn’t want him to leave. Actually, I wanted him to stay, which was almost but not quite the same thing. I realized with a horrible sort of clarity that I had missed him.

I am so cut off from my own forests and lakes here in this land of winter, and it weakens me terribly.

Never in my adult life had I had someone looking out for me. Everything that I have wanted or needed doing, I have done myself. And why not? I have never needed rescuing before. I suppose I always assumed that if I ever did, I would have two options: rescue myself or perish.