“The Crown of Mab,” Gavriel breathed. But Fenrys looked away, toward the looming dark, his tail curling around him. Aelin staggered a step closer to the crown. “It—it fell into the river.” Rowan didn’t want to know how she’d encountered it, why she’d seen it fall into a river. Maeve had kept her sisters’ two crowns under constant guard, only bringing them out to be displayed in her throne room on state occasions. In memory of her siblings, she’d intoned. Rowan had sometimes wondered if it was a reminder that she had outlasted them, had kept the throne for herself in the end. The grayish hand
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