Elide considered. Then pulled the golden ring from her finger. Silba’s ring—not Mala’s. “Here,” she said, extending the ring between their tubs, suds dripping off her fingers. Aelin blinked at the ring. “Why?” “Because between the two of us, you’re more likely to face Erawan or Maeve.” Aelin didn’t reach for it. “I’d rather you keep it.” “And I’d rather you have it,” Elide challenged, holding the queen’s stare. She asked softly, “Haven’t you given enough, Aelin? Won’t you let one of us do something for you?” Aelin glanced down to the ring. “I failed. You realize that, don’t you?” “You put the
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