Spring Court Quotes

“Tamlin gripped my hand as we strode through the darkness. Neither of us said anything when a glimmer of sunlight appeared, staining the damp cave walls with a silvery sheen, but our steps quickened as the sunlight grew brighter and the cave warmer, and then both of us emerged onto the spring-green grass that covered the bumps and hollows of his lands. Our lands.

The breeze, the scent of wildflowers hit me, and despite the hole in my chest, the stain on my soul, I couldn't stop the smile that spread as we mounted a steep hill. My faerie legs were far stronger than my human ones, and when we reached the top of the knoll, I wasn't nearly as winded as I might once have been. But the breath was knocked from my chest when I beheld the rose-covered manor.

Home.

In all my imaginings in Amarantha's dungeons, I'd never allowed myself to think of this moment- never allowed myself to dream that outrageously. But I'd made it- I'd brought us both home.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Spring bloomed- the air gentle and scented with roses.

Still lovely. But there were the front doors he'd sealed me behind. There was the window I'd banged on, trying to get out. A pretty, rose-covered prison.

But I smiled, head throbbing, and said through my tears, 'I thought I'd never see it again.'

Tamlin was just staring at me, as if not quite believing it, 'I thought you would never, either.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“It was Spring, and yet it wasn't.

It was not the land I had once roamed in centuries past, or even visited almost a year ago.

The sun was mild, the day clear, distant dogwoods and lilacs still in eternal bloom.

Distant- because on the estate, nothing bloomed at all.

The pink roses that had once climbed the pale stone walls of the sweeping manor house were nothing but tangled webs of thorns. The fountains had gone dry, the hedges untrimmed and shapeless.

The house itself had looked better the day after Amarantha's cronies had trashed it.

Not for any visible signs of destruction, but for the general quiet. The lack of life.

Though the great oak doors were undeniably worse for wear. Deep, long claw marks had been slashed down them.

Standing on the top step of the marble staircase that led to those front doors, I surveyed the brutal gashes. My money was on Tamlin having inflicted them after Feyre had duped him and his court.

But Tamlin's temper had always been his downfall. Any bad day could have produced those gouge marks.

Perhaps today would produce more of them.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“The Spring Court had felt stagnant. Hollow. Empty, despite its growing life. But this House was alive. It welcomed her, wanted her to grow and thrive. It was a place where she might rest or explore, where she could be whoever and whatever she wished.

Was that what home was? She had never learned. But this place... Yes, home might be a good name for it. Perhaps that was what Feyre had felt, too, when she'd left the Spring Court and come to these lands. Perhaps Feyre had fallen in love with this court as much as she had its ruler.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“The Spring Court made Cassian itch. It had little to do with the bastard who ruled it, he’d realized, but rather the fact that the lands lay in perpetual spring. Which meant plumes of pollen drifting by, setting his nose to running and skin to itching, until he was certain that at least a dozen insects were slithering all over him.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I leaned into Tamlin, sighing. 'It feels- feels as if some of it was a dream, or a nightmare. But... But I remembered you. And when I saw you there today, I started clawing at it, fighting, because I knew it might be my only chance, and-'

'How did you break free of his control,' Lucien said flatly from behind us.

Tamlin gave him a warning growl.

I'd forgotten he was there. My sister's mate. The Mother, I decided, did have a sense of humour. 'I wanted it- I don't know how. I just wanted to break free of him, so I did.'

We stared each other down, but Tamlin brushed a thumb over my shoulder. 'Are- are you hurt?'

I tried not to bristle. I knew what he meant. That he thought Rhysand would do anything like that to anyone- 'I- I don't know,' I stammered. 'I don't... I don't remember those things.'

Lucien's metal eye narrowed, as if he could sense the lie.

But I looked up at Tamlin, and brushed my hand over his mouth. My bare, empty skin. 'You're real,' I said. 'You freed me.'

It was an effort not to turn my hands into claws and rip out his eyes. Traitor- liar. Murderer.

'You freed yourself,' Tamlin breathed. He gestured to the house. 'Rest- and then we'll talk. I... need to find Ianthe. And make some things very, very clear.'

'I- I want to be a part of it this time,' I said, halting when he tried to herd me back into that beautiful prison. 'No more... No more shutting me out. No more guards. Please. I have so much to tell you about them- bits and pieces, but... I can help. We can get my sisters back. Let me help.'

Help lead you in the wrong direction. Help bring you and your court to your knees, and take down Jurian and those conniving, traitorous queens. And then tear Ianthe into tiny, tiny pieces and bury them in a pit no one can find.

Tamlin scanned my face, and finally nodded. 'We'll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone, I realised... I'd been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I'm sorry.'

Too late. Too damned late. But I rested my head on his arm as he slipped it around me and led me toward the house. 'It doesn't matter. I'm home now.'

'Forever,' he promised.

'Forever,' I parroted, glancing behind- to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive.

His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he'd seen through every lie.

As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it.

As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop- and he could do nothing.

Not unless he never wanted to see his mate- Elain- again.

I gave Lucien a sweet, sleepy smile. So our game began.

We hit the sweeping marble stairs to the fornt doors of the manor.

And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I leaned into Tamlin, sighing. 'It feels- feels as if some of it was a dream, or a nightmare. But... But I remembered you. And when I saw you there today, I started clawing at it, fighting, because I knew it might be my only chance, and-'

'How did you break free of his control,' Lucien said flatly from behind us.

Tamlin gave him a warning growl.

I'd forgotten he was there. My sister's mate. The Mother, I decided, did have a sense of humour. 'I wanted it- I don't know how. I just wanted to break free of him, so I did.'

We stared each other down, but Tamlin brushed a thumb over my shoulder. 'Are- are you hurt?'

I tried not to bristle. I knew what he meant. That he thought Rhysand would do anything like that to anyone- 'I- I don't know,' I stammered. 'I don't... I don't remember those things.'

Lucien's metal eye narrowed, as if he could sense the lie.

But I looked up at Tamlin, and brushed my hand over his mouth. My bare, empty skin. 'You're real,' I said. 'You freed me.'

It was an effort not to turn my hands into claws and rip out his eyes. Traitor- liar. Murderer.

'You freed yourself,' Tamlin breathed. He gestured to the house. 'Rest- and then we'll talk. I... need to find Ianthe. And make some things very, very clear.'

'I- I want to be a part of it this time,' I said, halting when he tried to herd me back into that beautiful prison. 'No more... No more shutting me out. No more guards. Please. I have so much to tell you about them- bits and pieces, but... I can help. We can get my sisters back. Let me help.'

Help lead you in the wrong direction. Help bring you and your court to your knees, and take down Jurian and those conniving, traitorous queens. And then tear Ianthe into tiny, tiny pieces and bury them in a pit no one can find.

Tamlin scanned my face, and finally nodded. 'We'll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone, I realised... I'd been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I'm sorry.'

Too late. Too damned late. But I rested my head on his arm as he slipped it around me and led me toward the house. 'It doesn't matter. I'm home now.'

'Forever,' he promised.

'Forever,' I parroted, glancing behind- to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive.

His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he'd seen through every lie.

As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it.

As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop- and he could do nothing.

Not unless he never wanted to see his mate- Elain- again.

I gave Lucien a sweet, sleepy smile. So our game began.

We hit the sweeping marble stairs to the front doors of the manor.

And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury