Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #0.1–0.5, 1–7)

by Sarah J. Maas

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she’d appeared, merely said, “My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak.” Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords. “I will not tell you the particulars of who I am,” Manon said at last. “For I think you have already heard them.” “Crochan bitch,” someone spat. Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here. “All my life,” Manon said, her voice wavering only slightly, “I have been fed a lie.” “We don’t have to listen to this trash,” another sentinel spat. Asterin snarled at Manon’s side, and the others fell silent. Even disgraced, the Thirteen were deadly. Manon went on, “A lie, about who we are, what we are. That we are monsters, and proud to be.” She ran a finger over the scrap of red fabric binding her braid. “But we were made into them. Made,” she repeated. “When we might be so much more.” Silence fell. Manon took that as encouragement enough. “My grandmother does not plan to only reclaim the Wastes when this war is done. She plans to rule the Wastes as High Queen. Your only queen.” A murmur at that. At the words, at the betrayal Manon made in revealing her Matron’s private plans. “There will be no Bluebloods, or Yellowlegs, not as you are now. She plans to take the weapons you have built here, pl...