The stranger at the back table lifted her head, signaling with a gloved finger for Yrene to bring another ale. For someone who didn't seem older than twenty, the young woman drank an ungodly amount—wine, ale, whatever Nolan bade Yrene bring over—but never seemed to lose herself to it.
But she wasn't in love with him—Otho hadn't said that. He had seen no attachment on her part. And Celaena would never be that stupid. It was Dorian who was the fool—Dorian who would have his heart broken, if he did actually love her.
Duly noted. Rhys yanked open the drawers and pulled out my undergarments. He dangled the bits of midnight lace and chuckled. I'm surprised you didn't demand Nuala and Cerridwen buy you something else. I stalked to him, snatching the lace away. You're drooling on the carpet. I slammed the bathing room door before he could respond.
For what it's worth, Chaol, she said. He faced her, his hands in his pockets. She gave him a slight smile. If she picked Roland over you, that makes her the greatest fool who ever lived. He stared at her for a long moment before he quietly said, Thank you, and walked back to his room.
Tamlin didn't stop apologizing for days. He made love to me, morning and night. He worshipped my body with his hands, his tongue, his teeth. But that had never been the hard part. We just got tripped up with the rest.
I think you will leave a lasting imprint on Ansel's heart. You spared her life, and returned her father's sword. And maybe when she makes her next move to reclaim her title, she will remember the assassin from the North and the kindness you showed her, and try to leave fewer bodies in her wake.
What if we go on, he said, only to more pain and despair? What if we go on, only to find a horrible end waiting for us? Aelin looked northward, as if she could see all the way to Terrasen. Then it is not the end.
She studied the body and the stained, soaking carpet. It hadn't been quick, but it could still be clean. A missing person was better than a decapitated corpse. Celaena raised her eyes to the large oven grate.
Manon Blackbeak stood on a cliff beside the snow-swollen river, eyes closed as the damp wind bit her face. There were few sounds she enjoyed more than the groans of dying men, but the wind was one of them.
I wasn't sure I'd been born with the ability to forgive. Not for terrors inflicted on those I loved. For myself, I didn't care—not nearly as much. But there was some fundamental pillar of steel in me that could not bend or break in this. Could not stomach the idea of letting these people get away with what they'd done.
Manon drew Wind-Cleaver, the blade singing softly as it slid free of its sheath. The sunlight gilded the balcony as Asterin whispered, so softly that only Manon could hear, Bring my body back to the cabin. Something in Manon's chest broke—broke so violently that she wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it. Manon lifted her sword.
She was fire, she was darkness, she was dust and blood and shadow. She hurtled through the streets, each step faster than the last as that black fire burned through thought and feeling until all that remained was her rage and her prey. She took back alleys and leapt over walls. She'd slaughter them all.
And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know ... " His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. "I want you to know, " I whispered, "that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored - honored to be your mate.
He laughed, surprised he could even do so. He's a handsome bastard, I'll give him that. I think Maeve likes to collect pretty men. Aedion snorted. Why not? She has to deal with them for eternity. They might as well be pleasant to look at. She laughed again, and the sound loosed a weight from his shoulders.
As the memory of that day echoed through her, she remembered the words Sam kept screaming at Arobynn, as the King of the Assassins beat her, the words that she'd somehow forgotten in the fog of pain: I'll kill you! Sam had said it like he meant it. He'd bellowed it, again and again and again...
The Wing Leader said from behind her, Do you believe monsters are born, or made? From what she'd seen today, she would say some creatures were very much born evil. But what Manon was asking … I'm not the one who needs to answer that question, Elide said.
Tell me what I must do to atone; tell me to crawl over hot coals, to sleep on a bed of nails, to carve up my flesh. Say the word, and it is done. But let me care for you as I once did, before ... before that madness poisoned my heart. Punish me, torture me, but let me help you. Do this small thing for me - and let me lay the world at your feet.
She was not becoming anything different from what she always was and always had the capacity to be. You just finally saw everything. And once you saw that other part of her… You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love. Just as you cannot pick which parts of me you accept.
Fleetfoot turned to look up at Celaena, her golden eyes full of question. Celaena reached down to stroke the warm head, the long ears, the slender muzzle. But the question remained. Celaena said, She's never coming back. The dog kept waiting.
The nearby rooftops were empty and flat, the gaps between buildings easily jumpable. She didn't care what this group wanted with her. She didn't care what sort of information they expected to twist from her. When they had taken Chaol, they'd made the biggest mistake of their lives. The last mistake, too.