“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. “I went to the Torre,” Yrene said, her voice cracking. “I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn’t waste it—not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life
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