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Lost, as if the beheading were her fault.
Yet he had not saved her, and he knew there was no one coming to save him.
and he prayed that the prince had died before he’d allowed his father to leash him like a dog.
Sorry not for what she’d done to his face, but for the fact that her heart was healed—still fractured in spots, but healed—and he … he was not in it. Not as he’d once been.
The grief in Chaol’s eyes kept her from speaking.
“It’s Aelin now,” she snapped as loudly as she dared. “Celaena Sardothien doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Magic has saved your life a few times now, if I recall correctly.”
Who is to stop you?”
Oh shit wrong thing to say
“I’ll be at my old apartment, should you decide to take your head out of your ass. Good night.”
A queen—raging and fiery and perhaps more than a little cruel—had found him tonight.
Or maybe he’d been a fool all this time, a fool to look at the lives she’d taken and blood she’d so irreverently spilled, and not be disgusted.
At first light, Chaol went to the nearest jeweler and pawned the ring for a handful of silver.
She could forgive the girl who had needed a captain of the guard to offer stability after a year in hell; forgive the girl who had needed a captain to be her champion.
But she was her own champion now.
She could be Celaena Sardothien again—for a little longer, until this game was finished.
And though Aelin had been trained for killing fields and Lysandra for bedrooms, they’d somehow grown up rivals, clawing for Arobynn’s favor.
“Sam was my friend, too. He and Wesley were my only friends. And Arobynn took them both away.”
Human in shape, but nothing more.
there was no greater pride than to bear a witch-child for your Clan;
And I enjoyed it, because I thought it was better to be someone’s pawn than nothing at all.”
“You bring my court into this, Chaol,” Aelin said with lethal softness, “and I don’t care what you were to me, or what you have done to help me. You betray them, you hurt them, and I don’t care how long it takes, or how far you go: I’ll burn you and your gods-damned kingdom to ash. Then you’ll learn just how much of a monster I can be.”
Now now children lets not be mean to one another
The demon made him sit on a dais, on a throne beside a crowned woman who had not noticed that the thing using his mouth wasn’t the person who had been born of her flesh.
could not see that he was still in here, still screaming.
Maybe it was winning. Maybe it had already won.
And not the shape-shifting Fae Prince kind.
Lol
“When you shatter the chains of this world and forge the next, remember that art is as vital as food to a kingdom. Without it, a kingdom is nothing, and will be forgotten by time. I have amassed enough money in my miserable life to not need any more—so you will understand me clearly when I say that wherever you set your throne, no matter how long it takes, I will come to you, and I will bring music and dancing.”
She was the heir of fire. She was fire, and light, and ash, and embers. She was Aelin Fireheart, and she bowed for no one and nothing, save the crown that was hers by blood and survival and triumph.
Behind them, across the hall, the dancers shattered their roses on the floor, and Aedion grinned at his queen as the entire world went to hell.
She was a whirling cloud of death, a queen of shadows, and these men were already carrion.
But he wished she had killed him. He hated her for not killing him.
“Never,” he said. “I could never be ashamed of you.”
The Queen of Terrasen was in a fighting pit in the slums of Rifthold. No one here, he’d wager, would believe it. He was hardly able to believe it himself.
Rowan was the most powerful full-blooded Fae male alive. And his scent was all over her. Yet she had no gods-damned idea.
Her throat bobbed. “Right.” A breathless answer that he couldn’t read.
uh oh… this is awkward
“You’re a prick for suggesting the attack was a message for her.”
i’m the newly elected president of the chaol hate club
“Need I remind you, Captain, that you went to Endovier and did not blink at the slaves, at the mass graves? Need I remind you that I was starved and chained, and you let Duke Perrington force me to the ground at Dorian’s feet while you did nothing? And now you have the nerve to accuse me of not caring, when many of the people in this city have profited off the blood and misery of the very people you ignored?”
you fucking tell him
“Maybe the world should burn,”
okay regina george!
Aedion didn’t have the heart to ask if that meant alive or dead.
“You don’t get the right to fling that sort of horseshit in our faces—not when your king murdered our family. Our people.”
Aedion shook his head. “We’re not enemies. You can trust us—trust Aelin.” “No, I can’t. Not anymore.” “Then it’s your loss,” Aedion said. “Good luck.” It was all he really had to offer the captain.
“It’s hard not to think all of your scars are my fault.”
“When you shift, will your hawk form be plucked, then?”
She mutely handed him her favorite lavender-scented soap, which he sniffed at, sighed in resignation, and then began using.
Not for all the world, Aelin? But what about for Prince Rowan?
“And what if I want you to stay in here with me?”
At last she met his stare, with eyes that were too old, too sad and tired to be nineteen.
The demon prince even let him out sometimes, through the eyes that might have once been his.
The demon had taken control of the body completely. He’d let him, after that woman with the familiar eyes had failed to kill him.
He tried to shut out the voice. Tried to. He wished that woman had killed him.
“Is that Lysandra?” Rowan asked. “Not too bad on the eyes, is she?”
Shut up
