The Assassin's Blade (Throne of Glass, #0.1-0.5)

by Sarah J. Maas

It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

She’d looked like a fool, hadn’t she? If Sam smiled just the slightest bit …

“That man’s as much in love with himself as you are;

“I’m quite fine,” she lied,

“Do you act like this because it’s actually in your nature, or is it just because you’re afraid

He just played along, as if he’d known the whole time.

But he knew the move—because he’d practiced it right alongside her for years—and he caught her other hand.

“I’m not going to let go until you promise to stop attacking me,” Sam said. His face was inches away, and she felt the breath of every one of his words on her mouth.

“I promise,” she mumbled.

Now you and I have a choice in the things we do.

Celaena took a long, steadying breath. It was time.

It wasn’t that hard to pretend Sam was drunk and they were having the grandest time in the world. Mostly because of her mask, but also because Sam played the part very, very well.

She could see everything with such maddening clarity.

“Because if we don’t fight for them, who will?”

It was such a Sam look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would always, always make him a better person than she was. Before she knew what she was doing, Celaena threw her arms around him and held him close.

She couldn’t remember—honestly couldn’t recall—the last time anyone had held her.

It was worth it; it would always be worth it, she told herself.

But Sam had been a good contender, even if he didn’t hesitate to say exactly what he thought about her, or her plans, or her abilities.

So she’d stayed, and weeks had turned into months. Somehow the dream of sailing away, of attending the Torre, had been set aside.

Even if the gods had abandoned her, Yrene still believed in them; they were still somewhere, still watching.

Yrene’s face warmed. “It—I …” She didn’t have an excuse.

Life isn’t easy, no matter where you are. You’ll make choices you think are right, and then suffer for them.”

“If you want something, then go take it.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” was all Yrene could think of to say.

No, she’d continue to the Red Desert and follow this path, wherever it led, however much it stung her pride.

Two opposite sides of the coin.

Wherever you need to go … Gods or fate or just pure coincidence and kindness, it was a gift. This was a gift. The world was wide-open—wide-open and hers for the taking, if she dared.

So maybe it was the gods at work. Maybe it was some force beyond them, beyond mortal comprehension. Or maybe it was just for what and who Celaena would never be.

Sometimes it was sick with anger; other times it was with sorrow. Often, it was both.

Sam had always been the expendable one.

It was worth it, she told herself.

“I suppose it depends on who is telling the story.”

“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.”

“Tomorrow will be better. It might be only a foot more than today, but it will be a foot longer that you can run.”

At least if she were to fail, she’d fail with him.

And what a miserable birthday that had been.

“Because the stag remains constant—no matter the season, he’s always there.”

Saying that she was sorry didn’t feel adequate. She knew what this sort of loss was like, and words didn’t do anything at all.

“Where do men find it in themselves to do such monstrous things? How do they find it acceptable?”

words that she somehow had forgotten in the fog of pain:

But whenever she caught herself thinking about it too much, she shoved those thoughts into the back of her mind.

“You mean to tell me you do this every day?”

“Sometimes twice a day,”

He always found excuses to touch her, always smiled at her, always looked at her as if she were the only person in the room.

If she were being honest, sometimes she thought Sam looked at her that way.

“I’m not sure I want it to go back to the way it was before,” she admitted. “And I think … I think that’s what scares me the most.”

Where she might learn something more than deceit and how to end lives. But she’d been wrong. Somehow, realizing that hurt far worse than the beating Arobynn had given her.

thump, thump, thump.

“Because I know how it feels to have that kind of hate,

You’ve always had a choice.