“Aelin, allow me to introduce—” “Yrene Towers,” the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side. The two women stared at each other. Yrene’s mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin’s own hands shook as she accepted the scrap. “Thank you,” Yrene whispered. Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said. Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she’d written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.
