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

by Sarah J. Maas

A cleared throat cut through the tent, and they all turned toward the open flaps to find one of the Darghan captains, his sulde clenched in his mud-splattered hand. Someone was here to see them, the man stammered. Neither royal asked who as they waved the man to let them in. A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down. Nesryn breathed, “Holy gods.” Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent. They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen’s braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes … Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier. Chaol shot to his feet. “I thought you were in Terrasen,” he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight. Three Fae males—towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman. But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him. No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin. But at him. Standing. Walking. The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue. Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. “I knew you would,” she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. “I knew you’d do it.” “Not alone,” he said th...