Status Updates From One Small Echo (Shadowsong,...

Noo not the 'protagonist gets Special Cooler Impossible thing that nobody should be able to get' trope (I'm sure there a more efficient name for it 😭). Also I'm surprised how little we've seen of the Princes almost half way through the entire book

I have refused to start this bc I’m not emotionally stable enough for it to end.

I am looooving this

“Do not damage that dress before the ceremony.”

Well, chat. Does she damage the dress???

Eiko? Hymn interrupted. Is this another breakdown?
Yes, she said confidently.

Love a menty b queen

Context-free spoiler

I MIGHT BURN YOUR ARMS OFF!

Imagine there's a tiny baby monster residing just under your skin and in your mind. It's his first time doing any of this stuff, as is it yours.

Oh, and you're mostly blind.

There are SO many adorable freakouts in this book as they...flail around

I’ve been rereading like four pages of this every night before bed like it’s a bible verse 🙏

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

But an unmade woman had one very particular opportunity: she had the opportunity to rebuild herself in an image of her choosing.

“I know,” he murmured, voice wrecked and low, every broken edge vibrating straight through her. “What you were t-thinking about that night.”

This psychopath wanted her to tell him he owned her. On her wedding day. On the day of her wedding to his brother.

He IS Moses-coded after all 😍
He made a gesture she had never seen before—not on his hands, anyone else’s hands, or in any of the books in the library.
Echo, she realised. He had created a gesture for her name.
If you want something from me, he continued. You must give me something.

And yet, all she could focus on was that Chasin Goldmoor no longer smelled of death, and the sudden change confused her beyond measure. He smelled human, suddenly.

Things that were painfully mundane and normal. The snap of a flower stem, sap blooming. Chopped wood, plucked herbs, rain-dampened greenery. Parchment, ink, and glue. Tea. Fire, and stoked embers.

“You must choose a weapon⁠—”
“Poison,” she declared automatically.
"Yes!" Hymn cheered enthusiastically. "And one day, we’re going to fake poison the commander, and then fake save him, fake poison him again, and fake save him seven more times!"

😂
He sighed. Long and hard. “I’ve let you get too comfortable.”
“You didn’t let me. It’s just my nature. I’m extremely adaptable. The trick is to never confront your emotions, thoughts, or feelings, and to run from all difficult conversations at all costs—if you wanted to know.”

She stiffened, feeling the change in the air before she heard the subtle, collective hesitation of the crowd. The instinctive widening of space. The hush that followed a predator stepping into view. Boots on marble, the footsteps measured and unhurried, but more importantly, audible. Chasin wanted her to hear him coming.

She liked that he was rough and gruff and perpetually annoyed by every little thing. It was easier for her to relate to than perfect, shiny, and fierce Alessandra and Ilara.

Ah! I remembered to look for it this time!
It wasn’t the same cup as the day before, but a ceramic one with a raised enamel design.

I will be savoring this as best I can. Slow and steady wins the race.

AHHHH I was forgetting we should watch out for the meaning of flower and berries when mentioned! 👀🫢

A real rose, pale and blooming, sat pinned at her throat, the only sign of softness.

I should have thought of that when the bilberries were mentioned so much foo