#some of sjm's insecurity leaks through feyre's dialogue

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 7 - page 10/?

original word count: 5525

revised word count: 2742

click for ch 7's full comparison document.

original:

At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. “You’re High Fae,” I said tightly. “I’d ask why you’d even bother inviting me here at all—or dining with me.” Fool—I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, “True. But indulge me: you’re a human woman, and yet you’d rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this”—he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face—“surely we’re not so miserable to look at.” Typical faerie vanity and arrogance. That, at least, the legends had been right about. I tucked the knowledge away. “Unless you have someone back home. Unless there’s a line of suitors out the door of your hovel that makes us seem like worms in comparison.” There was enough dismissal there that I took a little bit of satisfaction in saying, “I was close with a man back in my village.” Before that Treaty ripped me away—before it became clear that you are allowed to do as you please to us, but we can hardly strike back against you. Tamlin and Lucien exchanged glances, but it was Tamlin who said, “Are you in love with this man?” “No,” I said as casually as I could. It wasn’t a lie—but even if I’d felt anything like that for Isaac, my answer would have been the same. It was bad enough that High Fae now knew my family existed. I didn’t need to add Isaac to that list.

revised:

Tamlin swirled his wine. “Do you love him?” “No,” I said casually. It wasn’t a lie, but for some reason, warmth bloomed in my cheeks. “Is there anyone else you do love?” he said. A laugh burst out of me. “Is that really what you want to know? If I find you more handsome than human men? If I have a suitor back home?” “Well, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with topics of conversation yourself,” Lucien said. Tamlin shrugged his broad shoulders. “We just want to learn more about you. Go rest. If you need anything, ask the staff.” “Thank you,” I said, not feeling grateful at all. He nodded and motioned for me to leave. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and smiled. I slept fitfully that night. The lock on my bedroom door felt like a joke. I woke before sunrise and lay staring at the ceiling as light crept between the drapes. Any other morning, I’d already be striding through the woods, trying to not waste a moment of precious sunlight, listening to the drowsy chatter of winter birds. Here, it was silent. The enormous bed felt foreign and empty. A small part of me missed the warmth of my