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“Caring doesn’t make you weak,”
“You should have gone to Terrasen. It needs you.” “I need you more.”
My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid.
What if we go on, only to more pain and despair? Then it is not the end.
Aelin’s hand drifted to her heart and rested there. It is the strength of this that matters, her mother had said, long ago. Wherever you go, Aelin, no matter how far, this will lead you home.
Bring our people home, Manon.
And there are no gods left to help you now, Aelin Galathynius.” Aelin smiled, and Goldryn burned brighter. “I am a god.”
“How,” Maeve asked again. “How did you not break?” “Because I am not afraid,” Aelin said.
Life—life was pain. Pain, and joy. Joy because of the pain.
Fireheart, her mother had called her. Not for her power. The name had never once been about her power.
The only time in her reign that she would ever bow. The only thing she would ever kneel before. Her crown. Her throne. Her kingdom.
For a moment, Aelin and Yrene just stared at each other. “We’re a long way from Innish,” Yrene whispered. “But lost no longer,” Aelin whispered back, voice breaking as they embraced.
