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Actually, the thought of Dorian with other women made her want to shatter a window, but it wouldn’t be fair to let him know that.
unlike Celaena’s, which housed every title she got her hands on, whether she liked the book or not.
“The king sent me to kill you.”
If the heir of Terrasen, Aelin Galathynius, had lived, would she have become a friend, an ally? His bride, perhaps?
Perhaps the world would never be perfect, perhaps some things would never be right, but maybe she stood a chance of finding her own sort of peace and freedom.
Celaena Sardothien stood from her chair.
He wouldn’t let his servants change the sheets on his bed because they still smelled like her, because he went to sleep dreaming that she was still lying beside him.
“Stay upstairs!” Chaol ordered, still charging down. If he’d had time, he would have locked Dorian in the closet rather than risk bringing the Crown Prince into danger, but

