So Rowan nodded to Dorian. But the man bowed his head—not the gesture of a friend to a friend. But of one king to another. Consort, he wanted to say. He was just her consort. Even if she’d married him so he could have the legal right to save Terrasen and rebuild it. To command the armies she’d given everything to gather for them. “When we are done, I will join you in Terrasen, Aedion,” the King of Adarlan promised. “So that when you get back, Rowan—when both of you get back—there will be something left to fight for.”
