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

by Sarah J. Maas

And then Aelin was at the three steps of the dais, and Darrow strode to their edge. As he had instructed her last night, as she had practiced over and over in a dusty stairwell for hours, Aelin ascended the three steps and knelt upon the top one. The only time in her reign that she would ever bow. The only thing she would ever kneel before. Her crown. Her throne. Her kingdom. The hall remained standing, even as Darrow motioned them to sit. And then came the words, uttered in the Old Language. Sacred and ancient, spoken flawlessly by Darrow, who had crowned Orlon himself all those decades ago. Do you offer your life, your body, your soul to the service of Terrasen? She answered in the Old Language, as she had also practiced with Rowan last night until her tongue turned leaden. I offer all that I am and all that I have to Terrasen. Then speak your vows. Aelin’s heart raced, and she knew Rowan could hear it, but she bowed her head and said, I, Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, swear upon my immortal soul to guard, to nurture, and to honor Terrasen from this day until my very last. Then so it shall be, Darrow responded, and reached out a hand. Not to her, but to Evangeline, who stepped forward with a green velvet pillow. The crown atop it. Adarlan had destroyed her antler throne. Had melted her crown. So they had made a new one. In the ten days since it had been decided she was to be crowned here, before the world, they had found a master goldsmith to forge one from the r...