That lack of interest or feeling for the world.
At least she could take some comfort in knowing that it couldn’t get worse.
Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable – as desirable as Sam, maybe. Sam – when had she ever thought of him as desirable? He’d laugh until he died if he ever knew she thought of him like that.
Dance after dance after dance, until sweat was running down my back as I worked to keep up, keep that smile on my face, to remember to laugh when my hands were within strangling distance from his throat.
Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.
To the people who look at the stars and wish.
But Mor hopped off the bed, opened the door for me, and said, “There are good days and hard days for me – even now. Don’t let the hard days win.
Nameless is my price,” the king said. Aelin went still. “Nameless is my price,” his father repeated. The warning of an ancient witch, the damning words written on the back of the Amulet of Orynth. “For the bastard-born mark you bear, you are Nameless, yet am I not so as well?” He glanced between them, his eyes wide. “What is my name?
Celaena era fuego y oscuridad, era polvo, sangre y sombra.
There was something great and deadly concealed within her, and he didn’t like it. He’d be ready – when the time came, he’d be waiting. He just wondered which one of them would survive.
He could still speak with dignity and command whether he stood on his feet or was laid flat on his back. The chair was no prison, nothing that made him lesser.
Actually, she’d been downright awful to him. But he kept his back to her, as though the question didn’t matter.
An undisputed queen of not just blood, but also of legends.
When Celaena didn’t say anything else, Ansel drifted into sleep. With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.
She leaned forward, letting some of that wicked darkness shine through her eyes.
He wondered whether Lorcan realized that if he killed her, Lorcan himself would be next. Then Maeve. And maybe the world, for spite. Lorcan.
Little Lucien,” Rhys purred. “Didn’t the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?
It was like dying a little every day. It was like being alive, too. It was joy so complete it was pain. It destroyed me and unmade me and forged me. I hated it, because I knew I couldn’t escape it, and knew it would forever change me.
You’re from Perranth, right?” she asked. Though she’d never been to Perranth, Terrasen’s second largest city, the mention of her homeland still spiked a bolt of fear and guilt. It had been ten years since the royal family had been butchered, ten years since the King of Adarlan had marched his army in, ten years since Terrasen met its doom with bowed heads and silence. She shouldn’t have mentioned it – she didn’t know why she mentioned it, actually.
Celaena was the lost Queen of Terrasen.