A Study in Drowning

by Ava Reid

Effy was no great designer, but she was an excellent escape artist.

Sure

Instead she read Angharad in the lamplight until her sleeping pills pulled her under.

But the real Fairy King was not muzzled like the one in the painting.

Literally?

She couldn’t write a thesis or a newspaper article or even a fairy tale of her own—the university had made damn sure she knew that.

For some of thosecyou vdont need permission

Effy hated that she couldn’t tell right from wrong, safe from unsafe.

Preston did not make a very convincing Fairy King. Too stiff. Too scrawny.

Depends on how into disguises tge fairy king is

Héloury. “So you’re a saboteur.” He scoffed. “Now you’re being truly ridiculous. This isn’t about politics, not in the slightest. This is about scholarship.” “And you think scholarship is completely removed from politics?” To his credit, Preston seemed to genuinely consider this, fixing his gaze on some obscure point on the far wall for a moment. When he looked back at her, he said, “No. But ideally it would be. Scholarship should be the effort to seek out objective truth.”

Getting a viewpoint for him but im not sure cwhy shes so opposed

Why would I ever help you?”

Oo to find the co author

“You really care more about the truth than you do about being right?” “Of course I do.” There was not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Preston said. And then he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I—that’s terrible and cruel.” She said nothing, trying to ignore the tears pricking at her eyes.

In like three days they went from weird forced confict to besties

Effy had never heard him trip over his words before, and for some reason it made her want to trust him more.

Evidence that he is the fairy king and just using tonal whiplash to distract her from sussing him out

truth and magic were two different things, irreconcilable. It was precisely what Effy had been told all her life—by

But not that much in this book

“Don’t you think some of them will ask why a person with the name Héloury is so intent on destroying the legacy of a Llyrian national author?” “All the more reason to have a blue-blooded Llyrian name like Effy Sayre

Effy couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Is that really why you want my help?” “Not just that. Ianto is shutting me out. He doesn’t trust me. But he trusts you.”

Shes like lolz so sily but this is concrete evidence he's just using her for his own gain

your Saint Una

How are Una and Duessa both saints

It was a small thing, maybe not worth remarking upon at all. But very rarely did anyone allow Effy to choose.

He's rhys

“You should have written that one in Argantian, too,” she said. Preston gave her a thin-lipped look. “I know that now.”

either this was an editors note or the paper was bait

No other book in Llyrian history can boast such universal appeal.

Is it glamored or some shit

Myrddin’s father was a fisherman, and his grandfather, too. Master Gosse was the first to bring up that apparent contradiction. Myrddin’s family depended on the sea for their livelihood, yet it’s only ever painted as a cruel and vicious force of evil in his work.”

“But I don’t think that paints the sea in a very charitable way, either. The Fairy King is Angharad’s captor. Myrddin portrays the sea as a trickster god, luring Angharad with its beauty, but always with the potential to destroy her utterly.”

Omg an entire SECOND conversation where characters look at biographical context and debate the author's intentions

He loved Angharad more than anything. She was the one to betray him.”

She felt a thud of vague, confused grief. The house where Myrddin had grown up, where his mother had tucked him into bed at night, where his father had rested his scarred fisherman’s hands—swallowed up and eroded, lost to the ages. Effy had listened for the bells under the water that morning, but she hadn’t heard a sound.

“He spells it Myrthin, with a th. That’s the Northern spelling.”

Ok what if its the southern connection thats fake amd not the books

I don’t think Myrddin wrote it at all. I think it’s a forgery.” Effy gave a derisive laugh. “Now you’re sounding as nutty as those superstitious Southerners you have so much contempt for.”

Effy is lookijngv as dumb as a rock

who is the audience for Myrddin’s supposed lie?” “You said it yourself.” The corner of Preston’s mouth turned up into a thin half smile. “Superstitious Southerners who want to believe one of their own could transcend his common origins

Man explainy for lady brain

Half of Myrddin’s appeal was this compelling backstory: the impoverished provincial poet who turns out to be a genius. There’s a lot of money to be made off that myth.”

Once she had secured a place in the literature college, she could spend the rest of her university career trying to undo the damage she’d done to Myrddin’s legacy.

This makes her lok like vthe one out for her own gain. Shes goingv against her values while preston isnt

What did that make her? No better than Preston, in the end. At least he was committed to the vaguely noble principle of truth.

Lol

“Saints, how bloody long did that take you?” “It’s my thesis,” Preston said, but the tips of his ears turned pink.

Shes unserious

Myrddin generally belongs to a school of writers credited with reviving the romantic epic.” “Angharad is a romance,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. “A tragic one, but still a romance.”

He means romance like adventure

“Letters. Diary entries. Rough drafts of bad poems. Half-finished novels. Shopping lists, for Saints’ sakes. Something. It’s like the man has been erased from his own home.”

Omg also we get a nod to the idea that writers have to work on their books and improve vtheir drafts

“What about the basement?” Preston turned pale. “I don’t see any use in asking about that,” he said quickly. “It’s flooded. And besides, Ianto guards that key with his life. I wouldn’t even bother.”

If its flooded and useless why thye key its prestons turn at being the vdumb dumb

“The widow,” she said. “You told me she invited you here.” “I’ve never seen her,” Preston replied,

SUSS also if we're lookung for a cultured ghost writer from thye north she fits the bill. Especially if lady writers aren't seen as legit. A Big Eyes kinda deal

Effy couldn’t help but wonder about her.

I couldnt help but wonder do all relationships have tides like the sea? Did john have a wife in every port? Was this relationship going to crumble underneath me. Maybe we spend so much time trying to chart our course when what we really needd to do is go with thr flow

Men liked to keep mad women locked up where everyone could comfortably forget they ever existed. But Ianto hadn’t seemed to harbor any malice toward his mother.

Cmon u know it aint malice

“Blueprints for the house,”

Ooo it comin together she can totally ask for those

Effy hadn’t even thought to ask, which was a bit embarrassing.

Preston looked so flustered that she knew there had to be something else he wanted to say, but couldn’t. Effy kept her gaze on him to see if she could determine it, but she only succeeded in flushing, too.

Preferable to the banter THANK GOD

The patroness of deception with good cause (arguable) was getting a lot of her solicitation lately.

“It’s a rite here in the South, dating back to the pre-Drowning days. Spilling the blood of a fatherless child on the foundation of a castle was supposed to ensure its structure was sound and strong.

NO SHE IS THE ORPHAN RUN GIRL RUN OR FAKE A DAD QUICK

He doesn’t waste time on small talk or pleasantries.” “I suppose he’s very much like my father, in that way.”

the car had no rearview mirror. The side mirrors were turned inward, invisible. If Ianto wanted to look behind him, he had to crane his neck backward.

He wont be in the mirror

Those were the most difficult days. When I could not tell the kind version of him from the cruel.

She was suddenly aware of how mad she sounded. How mad she had been.

Not as mad as not stopping the car

But all Preston did was shake his head. “And he just left you there? Looking like—like this?”

Which would be my thought

In fact, ever since she had arrived in Hiraeth, she had not seen her own reflection once.

Why had he hurried her out of the house, only to hurry her back again?

The blueprints were very old. Effy could tell because they were actually blue. A decade or so ago, traditional blueprints had become obsolete, replaced by less expensive printing methods that rendered blue ink on a white background.

She knjows a cthing lol

“It doesn’t look like the basement is in the blueprints at all,” she said. “But, well, a basement isn’t exactly something you can tack on at the last minute. It has to be part of the architectural plans from the very start. The only thing I can think is maybe this house was built on a previously existing foundation, one that already had a basement.”

“If she values her privacy so much, she wouldn’t have invited the university to poke around here.”