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So he stayed with his companions, even as the days passed. Then the weeks. Then months.
MONTHS?!
She would not tell them what they wished to know. No matter how often her screams drowned out the raging river. No matter how often the snap of her bones cleaved through the bellowing rapids.
Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom …
No one had noticed, in the nearly two months they’d been maintaining this ruse, that the Queen of Fire had not an ember to show for it.
I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for Lysandra being Aelin for sooo long
Six. He’d made that one up. Liar, or something like it. She refused to acknowledge that particular code.
Fenrys blinked, over and over and over. I am here, I am with you.
And gave Maeve an obscene gesture, as filthy and foul as she’d ever made.
“To defend, Aelin. To protect.”
She has run away. Again.
“Get out of my tent.”
from a Chaol hater to a Aedion hater
He had come for her. Rowan.
“You once told me at Mistward that if I ever took a whip to you, then you’d skin me alive.”
omg
She was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and she was Queen of Terrasen.
“Two months, three days, and seven hours.”
And if she never returned to who she had been before this, he would not love her any less.
I told you once that even if death separated us, I would rip apart every world until I found you.”
Chaol told himself it was not his last night with his wife.
