Sure enough, five minutes later, a scream pierced through the Vaults. It was more animal than human. She’d heard screams like that before – had witnessed enough torture at the Keep to know that when people screamed like that, it meant that the pain was just beginning. By the end, when that sort of pain happened, the victims had usually blown out their vocal cords and could only emit hoarse, shattered shrieks. Celaena gritted her teeth so hard her jaw hurt.
But here he was, toeing that line he couldn’t stay away from. He.
Regret. It had been regret she’d felt that night she’d killed the Crochan. Regret and guilt and shame, for acting on blind obedience, for being a coward when the Crochan had held her head high and spoken truth. They have made you into monsters. Made, Manon. And we feel sorry for you. It was regret that she’d felt when she heard Asterin’s tale. For not being worthy of trust. And for what she had allowed to happen to those Yellowlegs.
I skipped between the dancers, twirling my skirts. The seated, masked musicians didn’t look up at me as I leaped before them, dancing in place. No chains, no boundaries – just me and the music, dancing and dancing. I wasn’t faerie, but I was a part of this earth, and the earth was a part of me, and I would be content to dance upon it for the rest of my life.
Don’t waste time with pointless questions.” Yes, this king wasn’t one to mince words at all. “You must go to her rooms. There is a door hidden behind a tapestry. Take the third passage on the right. Go now, Prince, or lose her forever.
She been trying to read for the past two hours – trying and failing. Even an utterly sinful romance novel hadn’t held her interest.
I’m headed for a ride on Kadara. My ruk,” he clarified, falling into his language as well. “I know,” she said. “I’ve heard the stories.” “Even in Adarlan?” He lifted a brow. A warrior and a charmer. A dangerous combination, though she could not recall any mention of a spouse. Indeed, no ring marked his finger.
Celaena’s bedroom door was open wide enough to reveal that the bed was empty and already made. “Where is she?” Nehemia’s eyes softened, and she picked up a note that was lying among the books. “She has taken today off,” she said, reading from the note before setting it down. “If I were to guess, I’d say that she is as far away from the city as she can get in half a day’s ride.” “Why?” Nehemia smiled sadly. “Because today is the tenth anniversary of her parents’ death.
You’re too nice when you’re wounded. It’s unsettling.
The people who had once dwelled within these lands had not met easy or pleasant ends. She could feel their pain even now, whispering through the stones, rippling through the water. That marsh beast that had snuck up on her last night was the mildest of the horrors here.
In grief, he hid one in the crown Of her he loved so well, To keep with her where she lay down Inside the starry cell.
I believe Lord Westfall is more than capable of transporting himself.
You can’t really like flowers.” Again those dark eyes shifted to her. Blinked once. I most certainly do, he seemed to say. She.
And I would,” Dorian said, leaning forward before Aelin could snarl at the ignored letter. “We win this war, and you have the two largest kingdoms on this continent proclaiming you the undisputed King of all Pirates. Skull’s Bay and the Dead Islands become not a hideout for your people, but a proper home. A new kingdom.” Rolfe let out a low laugh. “The talk of young idealists and dreamers.” “The world,” Aelin said, “will be saved and remade by the dreamers, Rolfe.
She traced a finger over a splotch of fuchsia silk on her dress. All those books, with no one to read them.
It was enough. Enough of the pretending and the meekness. Enough of Cain.
But Aelin murmured to Dorian, “I’m sorry. About Rifthold.” The king’s summer-tanned face tightened. “Thank you – for the help.” Aelin shrugged. “Rowan’s always looking for an excuse to show off. Dramatic rescues give him purpose and fulfillment in his dull, immortal life.” There was a pointed cough from the open balcony doors above them, sharp enough to inform her that Rowan had heard and wouldn’t forget that little quip when they were alone.
Nehemia set down her tea. “You have to tell Captain Westfall about how she’s being treated.” Celaena finished her scone and leaned back in her fluffed-up pillows. “I already did. He dealt with it.” No need to mention that after Chaol had returned to his bedroom, where Celaena had been reading, his tunic was rumpled, his knuckles were raw, and there was a deadly sort of gleam in his chestnut eyes that told Celaena the dungeon guard was going to have some serious changes – and new members.
The winged male, beautiful beyond reason, snapped his head toward her as she arced across his starry sky. He lifted a hand, as if in greeting. A blast of dark power, like a gentle summer night, slammed into her. Not to attack – but to slow her down. A wall, a shield, that she tore and plunged through. But it slowed her. That winged male’s power slowed her, just enough. Aelin vanished from his world without a whisper.
She did not want to be a consolation prize. Be pitied or a distraction.