The library?” she blurted. Rowan only smiled. “And the Royal Theater.” “There was no theater—not like in Rifthold.” Rowan’s smile grew. “There will be.” Aelin waved him off. “Need I remind you that despite winning this war, we are no longer flush with gold?” Rowan slid his arm around her shoulders. “Need I remind you that since you beheaded Maeve, I am a Prince of Doranelle once again, with access to my assets and estates? And that with Maeve outed as an imposter, half of her wealth goes to you … and the other to the Whitethorns?” Aelin blinked at him slowly. The others grinned. Even Lorcan.
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