Now that Sam was dead, there wasn’t anything left outside of the dungeons worth fighting for, anyway. Not when Adarlan’s Assassin was crumbling apart, and her world with her.
All she knew was that whatever and whoever climbed out of that abyss of despair and grief would not be the same person who had plummeted in.
He’d devoured the goat in two bites, then gone back to enjoying the wildflowers.
Roland studied her a bit more, a tad too intently. “Perhaps you and I shall get to work with each other a bit, Lillian. Your position intrigues me.” She wouldn’t mind working with him – but not in the way Roland meant. Her way would include a dagger, a shovel, and an unmarked grave.
She had often wished for adventure, for old spells and wicked kings.
To escape death, she’d become death.
Let them tremble in fear at what they had awoken.
Chaol,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Dorian’s eyes were frozen, his jaw clenched. “Treat her well.
She bellowed the last word with such soul-deep hatred that he felt it like a punch to the gut.
It made her the greatest threat he’d ever encountered.
Don’t you ever do anything other than read?
And just like that, his father fed him to the Wolf.
It was hard to care, she realized as she started the trek back to the castle. Incredibly hard to care, when you didn’t have anyone left to care about.
The ship began moving. And Chaol – the man she hated and loved so much that she could hardly think around him – just stood there, watching her go.
I read what I like.
Yes, she would go – to Rifthold, to anywhere, even through the Gates of the Wyrd and into Hell itself, if it meant freedom. After all, you aren’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.
You could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most.
What’s the point in having a mind if you don’t use it to make judgements?
She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius- and she would not be afraid.
You could be great. You could rattle the stars. You could do anything if only you dared.