PROLOGUE

Certain countries, like certain people, are renowned for their talents. These talents are the skills by which they make
themselves known to the world, and they are the way that they are remembered by history.

Adarlan was famous for its glassware. It was said that they could construct anything out of glass (a bed, a coffin, a
hill) and have it be as strong as iron. At one point, glass shoes were all the fashion across the globe, though why
anyone would want to walk (or dance) in such shoes was beyond the genius of all the learned men and women in the
world at that age.

A beautiful, large, and rich country, Adarlan was naturally very powerful. Its army could not be matched, and it was
years ahead of any nation by means of industry and technology. After some time, the rest of the world could not meet
Adarlan's high prices, and Adarlan began to lose its wealth.

Which is probably why Adarlan began to seek to conquer other countries. They started with the best of intentions:
gentle urgings in councils with foreign nations to catch up so that the world would be a better and more civilized
place, promising aid and money if needed. The other territories were slow to respond and their people were not ready
for the sudden change that would be imposed upon them by their leaders.

So, Adarlan began to advance more aggressively on its neighbors, encouraging the demolition of worker's guilds and
the rise of the working class as a whole. In less than a year, it had conquered its bordering countries-befouling them
with the spread of the installment of mass-production and slave-camps. For many years it tried to conquer the
countries that lay across the sea, but they were unable to make any territorial advances.

But there were other things involved in the conquests, other unspeakable evils that will be known much later on. Be
content with ideas of economics and technology as being key factors in the war that the King of Adarlan waged
against the world, for there will come a time when you wished that you did not know the full truth.

What does any of this have to do with fairy godmothers and pumpkins turning into carriages? Everything. Over time,
the story of the cinder-girl has been warped, misplaced, and some parts have been downright cut out to make the
fairy story that we are all quite familiar with today.

The original story was hardly magical in the sense of what weve come to expect to be typical for fairytales. There
were no magic pumpkins or transforming mice or beautiful dresses made out of a mere swish of the wand. But there
was magicoh, yes, there was plenty of magic.

Also, the original legend was more a tale of political alliances and betrayals than a timeless love story (though, dont
get me wrong, there was a great deal of love involved), but there is obviously a lack of appeal to mass audiences for a
story such as that, so bards undoubtedly had to change a few (and in the end, quite a lot of) things to enhance its
luster and enrapture their audiences.

The cinder girl that we meet at the ball is the girl whom the prince fell in love with, but in fact, not the true Cinderella.
The woman was a character who, save for her debut at the ball, has dropped out of the story entirelythe
complications in her character and the circumstances under which she went to the ball were far too complex to be told
or remembered by mouth, and by the time that the story was written down on paper, her part in the story had been
forgotten. Even her namethe name that came to wield so much powerhas been disconnected from the original tale
entirely. But to give her one name is to dishonor her memory. To define her simply by one of the names that she bore
in her lifetime would be to only judge a person by what one of their features looked like. After all, what power does a
name truly have? Is it a shallow thing that we use only to identify each other and our world, or is it capable of holding
its own power and character? But I am getting ahead of myself.

By now, only the royal families of Adarlan and Trasien know the real tale of the cinder-girl; and it is after these many
years of service to the royal court that I have been permitted to record the story of Adarlan's greatest queen, who
never bore the title of Cinderella, but in fact was quite a slave herself before her fairytale began.

CHAPTER 1

Celaena Sardothien swung the pickax up over her head and brought it down upon the hard rock with a grunt, the rock
cracking reluctantly. Even after two years in the salt-mines of Endovier, the labor was hard and brutal. Especially
when lashings were dealt out without reason or provocation.
As the rock crumbled, the salty cloud that encompassed the salt-crystals filled the air around her, clogging her lungs
and stinging her eyes. In the salt-clogged air, the pain of whippings increased tenfold.

Celaena raised the ax once more, gathering strength from her muscled back and shoulders with a deep breath, and
the air that she inhaled caught in her lungs. Launched into a violent coughing fit, Celaenas anger swelled as she
heard her overseer chuckle, and then take a drawn out swig of water from his canteen. He smacked his wet lips
together, and loudly splashed the water around in its container. Slaves were not allowed to drink water down here.

She lowered the ax, covering her mouth (a habit she had kept from the civilized world above) as she continued with
the futile attempt to get some clean air into her lungs. Her eyes watered from the salt and the pain, yet she was
unable to control the heavings of her chest. Unfortunately, this went on for another few moments before the crack of
the whip filled her ears and she felt an acute burning lash across her back.

Celaena Sardothien gritted her teeth against the pain and turned her head to look back at the overseer who had been
in charge of watching her for the past four weeks. Due to her rather violent nature, she had a new one at least three
times a month. This one had been around for a record amount of time, but that was probably because of the guard
who was kept hidden in the shadows behind them, always ready to turn her innards into mush with his loaded
crossbowshould she show any sign of aggression. Of course, the guards made her participate in weekly fighting
matches against other prisoners, but none of them ever would assume that she, a woman, would actually be a real
threat! It had taken over two years for the idiots who had enslaved her to figure out that more than one man was
needed to restrain her.

After all, she hadn't been Adarlan's deadliest assassin for nothing.

The overseer was a large and stupid man with a red face, an enormous flat nose, and small, piggish eyes that always
seemed to be bloodshot. His potbelly stuck out almost a foot, and his chin was buried in the folds of fat that lay
beneath. He had a horrid smile that always became more repulsive when he thoroughly enjoyed somethingmainly
whipping herand he was missing three of his main teeth thanks to some "accidental" occasions when rocks had gone
flying from her ax and towards his brutish face. He loved beer, money, inflicting pain upon others, and hated all that
were better off and more cultured than he wasa rather large group to which she had the misfortune of belonging.

All in all, Celaena really wanted to kill him.

"Who said you could stop workin', yer Highness?"

'Highness' was his pet name for her; and, for some odd reason, he seemed to think it was devilishly clever. There
were other reasons for her dislike of the nickname, but she kept them buried deep within her, resigning them a bit
more each day to the fate that she had chosen for herself so long ago. He whipped her again, and her upper lip curled
in a silent snarl.

Celaena sometimes wondered what it would be like beat the man to death with a dictionary.

"Last time I checked, I was in charge of yer, and I dun recall givin' yer th'permission ta stop yer workin'!" Gods above,
the man couldn't even speak correctly! For Celaena, it was like listening to nails on a blackboard. His accent was
slurred and boorish, and the missing teeth didn't help with his pronunciation at all.

The overseer slashed the leather across her back to emphasize his point. Her eyes watered with pain, but she bit
down on the cry that tried to escape from her lips.

"So, get yer arse back ta work before yer makes me really angry!"

Irritated, she coughed a few more times, and finally found the air ease in her lungs.

Instead of getting back into her hunched working position, Celaena Sardothien straightened up. She took the pickax in
her hands as if she were weighing it, and turned to face him slowly.

She raised her eyebrows casually as she looked down at the sharp iron instrument.

"You know," Celaena said in her cool, cultured voice: "I've killed men with less than this." A slow smile spread across
her face as she saw, from the corner of her eye, the overseer take an unsure step back.
"You've heard the story about the hairpin incident, haven't you? Imagine: a harmless, innocent hairpinwhat harm
could it possibly do? Now, picture that hairpin jammed all the way through a man's eye and into his brain. Lovely,
isn't it?" Celaena laughed lightly, observing the way his features seemed to flatten like an animals ears.

"That was one of my more creative kills, actually. Now, I want you to think about what I did with something as
harmless as a hairpin and imagine what I can do with this pickax." She looked expectantly at the overseer, who was
holding his whip defensively.

"Yer-yer can't do anything tme!" His hands shook and his red face was nearing a sickly pink. "Yer've been condemned
by the King ta work until yer death in these salt-mines! Yer aint en assassin no more!"

What a pathetic way of reassuring yourself!

Celaena stared at him blankly, and then spoke again.

"Just because I'm forced to do hard labor to pay off my crimes against humanity doesn't mean that I'm not capable of
killing. Put a fierce beast in a cage and it's still deadly. In fact, it's even deadlier because it has had time to think
time to think about the way that it will kill everyone who is responsible for its captivity. She paused for effect,
basking in his unexpected terror.

Especially about the amount of pain and suffering that they should endure before it decides to have mercy upon them
and slit their throats or break their necks or rip their hearts out or smash their heads upon the-"

The click of an arrow being knocked into place echoed in Celaenas ears and she stopped mid-sentence. She'd have to
be careful. Celaena smiled wickedly as she turned her attention back to the overseer. By now the man was so pale
that, with his red eyes, he could have passed for an albino.

She cleared her throat and lowered her pickax. "Anyway, it's the same story if you put shackles on me. I'll still be an
assassin, just a much more intelligent and vengeful one."

Celaena turned back to her work; raising the ax above her head and cracking open a new rock formation, salt-clouds
filling the air once more.

"Besides, she added sweetly, turning her head to him, "with that guard you keep hidden over there, I can't do
anything to you without expecting a belly full of arrows to follow. So don't worry, my darling overseer, you're still
quite safe around a caged beast like me."

With that, Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's greatest assassin, returned to the slavery that she had known for the past
two years.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It wasn't until the hour before sunset that Celaena Sardothien found herself walking upwards through the steep
tunnels of the salt-mines, her overseer pushing her on from behind. The walk was wretched, especially when you had
shackles around your ankles and the air was thick with blood and salt. How a piece of lard like her overseer was able
to do it was beyond Celaena's comprehension. However, from his physical appearance, it was entirely plausible that
he had been spawned in such an environment and was used to its horrible climate.

"Move yer scrawny arse, yer Highness!" he cackled from behind, cracking the whip against her back. She let out a
cough as whip sliced across her back yet again. Celaena shuffled forward, the iron of the shackles digging into her raw
and sweaty skin.

From the passages ahead, she could hear the other slaves leaving their working posts; the moans of agony amongst
the clank of chains was a chorus that Celaena Sardothien had become acquainted with. The occasional solo of the
whip added to the music of the brutality that the rulers of Adarlan had created to punish its greatest criminals and
poorest citizens.

How she had been caught two years ago was still a bit of a mystery to Celaena. She had managed to get a job that
would have paid so well once completed that it would have allowed her to retire to someplace far away. But before
she could make the kill, sentries had arrived, catching her off-guard and barely armed (she had never needed big
fancy weapons to get the job done). There had been some sort of sleeping gas thrown into the air; and the next thing
she knew, she was in a dungeon, and spent five days waiting to be tried before the Royal Court. Naturally, she had
been decreed guilty before she had even been allowed to testify for herself.

However, instead of the hanging that she had expected, the King thought it much more amusing to send Adarlan's
greatest assassin to the salt-mines of Endoviera newly discovered mountain that was filled to the brim with salt
formations. It was the kind of discovery that would send Adarlans economy and chefs into blissbut it required cheap
labor that was hard to find. For months prior to her sentencing, thousands of peasants had been taken from their
homes and forced into slavery in the mines, working alongside the hundreds of criminals that were transferred from
prisons across the country.

His Royal Highness had given her six life sentences for hard labor, believing that working in the toxic air, far from
sunlight, mixed with the brutality of the overseers would be more painful and more suitable than sudden death.

He had been right.

Celaena Sardothien still wondered at how she had survived that first week away from the sun, being beaten and
whipped until she could barely breathe and then forced to work again. If she didnt move when her original overseer
had ordered her to, the man rubbed salt that she had mined herself into her open wounds, causing her to pass out
from the pain. She still bore many scars on her back from those seven days, but by now they had been reduced to
fine white lines.

During the beginning months, she had worked with the other slaves in the tunnels closer to the surface. Chained
together, they mined from dawn until dusk. Conversation and social interaction were not allowed. It was no surprise
when Celaena first heard the sound of slaves taking their lives during the night. Some would actually ask the others to
suffocate them. Others would steal forks or any sharp object that they could get their hands on and slit or stab
themselves to death. Again, it was a wonder to her that she had survived the beginning of this life of hard work and
torment, even if she had grown up living with Death Itself.

The first overseer had been in charge of five of them: Celaena, three men, and another woman. He was cruel to the
other four, but he never held back any aggression with Celaena. Day after day her nerves were pushed to the limit;
but it was only after he beganwith no apparent reasonto ruthlessly beat the other woman that Celaena had taken
her pickax in her hands and split his skull open.

Seeing the terror in his eyes before she dropped the blade down upon his head, Celaena gained a vital and
empowering piece of information that would keep her from losing her sanity and will within the mines.

They beat her because they were afraid of her. The overseers believed that if she were too bruised and bloody to do
anything but work, she would lose the strength to kill and would be nothing of a threat.

They were so wrong.

In three months, Celaena killed seventeen overseers. Some didn't even last three days. After five months, the idiots
who ran the mines decided that moving her away from the other slaves was a smart idea. They were afraid that her
overseer slaughter-fest might lead to a slave rebellion.

So they placed her deeper within the salt mines, giving her the most ruthless overseers they could find within Adarlan
to break her spirit.

And did it work? Absolutely not. Again and again, Celaena Sardothien had the pleasure of killing the disgusting men
that were sent to work her to death. Killing became a creative art once more. She found ways to hit the rock on the
walls in the right places so that the ceiling caved in upon her overseer, crushing him in seconds. She created methods
of cracking open the salt rocks so that the fumes went into the overseers eyes, causing him to stagger backwards,
blinded, and hopefully, if there was a large pit around, fall to his death. If not, Celaena made sure that he cracked his
skull open upon a hard cave wall.

These natural deaths went on for two years. She never let any blood get onto her clothing or handsand since
mining accidents were frequent, most of these murders went on unnoticed. Occasionally, so not to raise eyebrows,
shed inflict a wound on her head or some body part, and coat herself with dust, appearing to be just as much of a
victim to the accident as her unfortunate overseer.
And while she knew she could get away with these petty killings, not once did Celaena Sardothien dare to attempt an
escape. She knew that once she hit the surface, she'd be running into a heavily guarded area, which was sheer
suicide. She had seen other slaves try to break free, and each had ended up filled to the brim with arrows.

The sentries of Endovier were not common fools. They killed anyone with a pair of shackles around their ankles that
was running at top speed. The King made sure that each soldier who guarded the mines could shoot a squirrel hiding
in the trees from two hundred feet away. In short, if Celaena Sardothien had ever tried to escape, she would have
been dead before she could even blink at the sunlight.

It had been two years since Celaena had seen the sun. She began her days work in the mines before the sun rose;
and she left the mines after the sun had gone down. So, it was easy to understand that her skin would have been as
pale as the moon if it werent for the dirt that covered her face and body.

Celaena Sardothien was a beautiful womanor at least some had considered her so. Granted, she was never
considered unattractive, but the degree of her attractiveness truly depended on those judging her.

While her frame was in no way slender, her height (drawing mainly from her long legs) and ivory skin gave her an
allure and grace that made her wide curves seem athletic. Her face, her most beautiful feature, appeared to be at a
standstill between deciding whether or not it was round or ovalher high cheekbones seemed to want the latter, and
her delicate, pointed chin and small, almost-perfectly-curved nose always argued the former. In describing her, her
former friends and companions had likened her physique to be similar to that of a marble statue of old: strong, yet
nimble; soft, yet alarmingly omnipotent.

Her almond-shaped eyes were far from the saucer-like orbs that every woman desired, but they fit well within the
shape of her face; her eyebrows were somewhat straighter and lower than she would have liked; and her eyelashes
were of absolutely average length. But it was what lay between those dark layers that made her face so fascinating
and extraordinary.

At a passing glance, one might think that her eyes either were blue or gray, perhaps even green depending on the
color of her clothing. But the longer and closer you looked into them, the more you realized that they were not just a
single color, but rather an indeterminable shade made up of hundreds of variations. These warring hues were set off
by a brilliant ring of gold that lay around her pupils, plated streaks lashing out across her irises like lightning.

Her eyes sparkled and shone, especially when she was excited or in direct sunlight. As a child, Celaena, while having a
conversation with someone, would always attempt to put herself either directly in front of, or as close as she could get
to, the suns rays to offset their allure. It never failed to either entrance and bedazzle or to get just what she wanted
from them (most often these two were linked).

But, despite these enchanting gems, it was her long, golden hair that caught the attention of most people. Even when
it was knotted and caked with dirt and grime from the mines, it shimmered and shone like unwashed gold. These
magnificent locks hung in loose waves, not the ones that you get from braiding your hair, but more like the sleek,
smooth ones that make wide S-curves. It had been her pride and joyand Celaena had probably invested more
money in hair-care potions and tonics than she had in the bank.

In short, Celaena Sardothien was blessed with a handful of very attractive features that offset some of her average
ones; and, by mid-adolescence, she had discovered that with a bit of assistance from cosmetics, these average
features could easily match the extraordinary ones. She worked hard to keep her frame as lean as it could be, and
while this meant sacrificing the large breasts that had never really appeared (they had pretty much stopped at
medium), the assassin knew that most dresses and undergarments could easily lie for her about it.

All minor flaws aside, her body had been perfect for her previous occupation. How many men would love to be alone
with such a woman for a few hours? How many women would like to discuss in private what the secret to her beauty
was? Too many. Celaena's good looks had made her job all-too easy.

Which was probably why she was such a damn good assassin. No one ever suspected that such a beauty was capable
of being the most feared and dangerous killer in Adarlan.

Celaena had never really come to an agreement over whether or not she believed that she was either commonly
pretty or unusually beautiful: it all depended on either her mood or the amount of food she had recently consumed.
When she was well dressed, her face done so carefully that you couldnt tell the influence of cosmetics, Celaena knew
that she was radiant. At the moment, all that she knew was that she was young, barely past her adolescent years,
and full of life and potential. But she also knew that all of that potential, given her impossible circumstances, was now
gone. She was doomed to die in obscurity, her only glory coming once a week from the fighting matches that she
never failed to win.

The guards, having known of her but really having noticed her presence in Endovier, had ignored her until she had
slaughtered her first overseer. Upon questioning her, they found that her physical condition was still good enough that
she could participate in a distorted version of professional fighting (that more often than not was just an illusion).
Their primary source of entertainment at the salt-mines, it consisted mostly of two opponents facing off against each
other in a fenced-in square that had once housed sheep. They would fight, using only their bodies as weapons, the
loser determined by whomever fell down and didnt get up immediately after. No body parts were off-limits, and
participation was mandatory.

At first they had pitted her against opponents far beneath her: strong farmers who could easily have lifted a hundred
pounds, but were so inexperienced that fighting with them was more like assaulting a cow or other large farm animal.
When she had begun consistently winning, and the guards who bet upon her had begun to consistently gain money,
they had decided to place her against fellow criminals: sometimes they were strong and experienced, but most of the
time, they were either so exhausted from work or so malnourished that Celaena had no problem beating them into
submission. Occasionally, they would put her against two or three men, but that trend had only started to seriously
develop a few weeks ago.

As horrible as it was, it was due to this sporting event that Celaena was kept alive for this long. Because she was a
majority favorite, the sentries would provide her with both a larger quantity of food and also food of a far better
quality than the porridge most ate. They would slip it past the kitchen overseer, often subtly dropping it on her plate
as they passed by one of the long tables at which the slaves ate.

And it was because of this favoritism that Celaena learned to control her surroundings both above ground and below.
Celaena made it clear that if any man were to lay a hand upon her for any reason aside from whippings and fighting,
she wouldnt fight. And if she wouldnt fight, the guards would lose their money. If she killed an overseer, the guards
would try to make the matter go unnoticed: her execution or deportation would also mean great financial losses.

So Celaena managed to survive the horrors of Endovier, maintaining moderate health and avoiding death simply by
being good at what she had been trained to do for the past fifteen years. She knew that there was no hope of ever
being released (six life sentences offers little consolation), but not an hour went by when the assassins mind didnt
drift to plans of escape and a life far away. Often, these thoughts would lead to regrets and fears and guilt, but
Celaena, refusing to give into the despair that ran rampant around her, kept these feelings down at heel.

"Come on, wench, I dun want ta be givin' yer another beatin' before supper time. It ruins me appetite, yer see." The
great pig laughed to himself. Celaena rolled her eyes and moved faster, beginning to get out of breath from the steep
climb. Rocks and dirt crumbled beneath her, and the cave walls shimmered as they drew closer to the surface. The
slaves in front of her were merely silhouettes against the fading light, and Celaena clenched her jaw in frustration at
their crawling pace.

When they reached the mouth of the cave, Celaena, out of habit, searched in vain for any bright color in the horizon.
The sky was a darkening blue, and she knew that within minutes it would be pitch-black and dotted with stars that
seemed to look the other way from Endovier.

She instinctively turned in the direction of the large wooden building where meals were served, but a hand at her
shoulder stopped her before she could step forward.

"You wont be eating there tonight, Sardothien."

It was not the voice of the overseer. It was dark, smooth, and sounded almost civilized. It had been so long since she
had heard someone speak properly! Used to peasants, common criminals, and brutish guards, Celaena almost thought
that she was imagining thingsthat is, until she saw who had stopped her.

It was a man clothed entirely in black, the cowl of his cape hiding his face in shadow. Celaena tried to peer past his
dark hood, but found nothing. Her heart began to beat faster as her stomach clenched. Even though she had, at
times, wished for Death, Celaena, now suddenly face-to-face with it, felt a strong urge to run the other way.

"Come with me, assassin, the man hissed and grabbed her hand, her overseer beginning to object. Celaena looked
down at the gloved hand and felt its tight grip around hersthe assurance of flesh calmed her nerves slightly, but the
stranger still put her at unease.
"Who're yer ta take dis criminal away fro me? the overseer demanded. Me is her overseer, yer see, en none takes
away me property withou me permission!" This all came out in a frothy jumble that only Celaena, after four weeks
down in the mines with him, could have possibly understood.

"Translate, please," the man in black said dryly to Celaena. She could sense his impatience, yet she found the
situation to be slightly humorous. This man clearly had no idea how do deal with the dregs of society.

Celaenas mouth twisted in a crude smile, her amusement reflecting in her eyes. "He said: 'who are you to take this
criminal away from me? I'm her overseer, you see, and no one takes my property without my permission.'"

The man in black nodded, and fished a wrinkled piece of parchment from his dark robes. He showed it to the
overseer. "Signed by the Crown Prince himself, you see," he sneered, a slight snarl to his voice.

Celaena raised an eyebrow, at loss between amusement and utter confusion. What was this? Was she being freed at
last? Or was she being deported to another mine? Or was this her execution sentence? Her stomach tightened again.

Please, please dont let him be my executioner

"It'd help me much if I coul read, sir." The overseer took off his skullcap and rubbed his grubby head.

The mysterious man clicked his tongue and sighed in frustration. "That does complicate things. Just give me the girl."
He moved forward, pulling her behind him.

"I aint givin yer nothin'!" the boar roared and yanked Celaena back to him, yanking her out of the strangers grip.
Celaenas arm ached from the violent tug, and she rubbed her shoulder, making sure it hadnt been dislocated. She
returned her gaze to the man in black in time to see him skillfully and casually pull back the folds of his cloak far
enough to reveal the large sword that was sheathed at his side.

Celaena began to fervently hope that the man would slit the overseers throat, but then the soldier who had been
guarding them down in the mines decided to show himself. He was a young manhe couldnt have been more than
twenty-fivebut he seemed confident enough with his reading and shooting skills to come forward.

"I'll read it to him," the sentry offered breathlessly, obviously still recovering from their ascent.

"I havent got the time," the man in black replied swiftly, resting a hand on the exposed pommel. He pointed with his
free hand to an insignia sewn carefully into his black vest. It was the royal seal of Adarlan.

"Im Chaol Wydrael, Captain of the Royal Guard of Adarlan. I've been sent by the Crown Prince Dorian DeHavilliard to
fetch this woman, and I'm afraid that we have a tight schedule to keep, so if you dont mind following me, Sardothien,
we can be on our way."

The man reached behind the overseer and grabbed Celaena by the hand once more, drawing him to her. His grip was
firm and Celaena winced as her shackles chafed against her wrist. "If you have any issues with what's written on that
piece of paper, bring it up with the King," he snapped.

Celaena felt grim satisfaction sweep through her. Her overseer and that miserable guard had been defeated, but now
it seemed that her battle would begin. Would she be killed or freed? What did the Crown Prince want with her?

Not pausing for a moment, the man in black left the scene, walking quickly towards the marble building in which the
chief guards and top executives of the mines counted their money, dragging a confused Celaena behind him.

CHAPTER 2

Celaena Sardothien frowned at the great, red and gold glass doors as they opened to reveal a large throne room. The
glass was so thick that Celaena couldnt see through, though illuminated swirls and knots of gold did reveal the
presence of light on the other side.

The Captain of the Guard had led her through the monstrously-sized marble building: down corridors and up stairs,
and around and around until Celaena wondered if shed ever be able to find her way out again if set loose.
It was a massive structureominous in appearance and build. Its foundations and frame were constructed from black
marble, and gold-tinted glass capped all the roofs of each of the many wings of the building. Celaena felt a strong
sense of dislike for itmainly because it blended in with the dismal surroundingsand her lips would have been set in
a snarl if it werent for her confusion at her present circumstance.

They had swiftly strode through the doors of the building, walking past scurrying men with lots of parchment who took
no notice of the man in black and the slave-girl, and proceeded to make their way through a labyrinth of corridors and
stairways, with each passing turn getting further and further away from the bustle of the lobby.

After a silent ten-minute journey, the mysterious man had stopped in front of the largest pair of glass doors that
Celaena had ever seen inside a building.

In here, he growled, shoving her forward with a free hand, the other still resting on the pommel of his sword.

Celaena staggered forward, her shackles clanking on the marble, and looked behind her in time to see five uniformed
guards appear silently behind the man. Her eyes widened as they fell upon the crest that was embroidered on the
breast of each soldier.

More royal guards?

It lay on the chest of every soldiers uniform, but the fine gold and red thread of the emblem was only sewn into the
uniform of the Royal Familys personal guard.

But what would the DeHavilliard family be doing in this desolate, miserable place? Celaena turned her gaze to the
room before her. On an ornate redwood throne sat a handsome young man.

Is this the Crown Prince?

Celaena looked at the youth blankly before quickly turning her gaze to curved upper corner of the throne, hiding the
churning mess inside of her. She had a fierce loathing for politics, especially in regards to Adarlans tyrant family, and
being in the presence of one of them made everything in her body rock and bob like a ship in a storm.

He looks nothing like his father.

You told me to bring her to you immediately, my lord, the Captain of the Guards said from behind, withdrawing his
cowl from his face and kneeling down so quickly that Celaena could only make out well-groomed chestnut hair and an
olive coloring. The other soldiers followed suit.

Celaena didnt bother to bow. In the presence of a DeHavilliard, she could feel the scars and wounds upon her back
and body with harsh clarity. She could feel the dirt caked upon her skin. Her own foul stench filled her nose.
Humiliated and disgraced, Celaena fought to keep her malice for the young man out of her eyes. How could she
possibly bring herself to bow before the offspring of the pig who had given her this life-sentence of pain? Shed sooner
bow before her overseer.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the Crown Prince and his personal guard waited for her to bow to him.

Bow before royalty, you insolent broad! A large man roared as he came sweeping through the open doors, his face
crimson and his tan mustaches flying.

Before Celaena knew it, she had been thrown to the floor, face-first into the cold marble. Pain reverberated in
throbbing waves across her skull, elbows, and knees.

Celaena hissed, baring her teeth as she threw her head around to look at the giant of a man. He was almost as fat as
her overseer, but while the overseer had been a dirty, ugly man, this one was simply a clean, ugly one. He was well-
dressed in reds and oranges, but he could not quite conceal the large bald spot amongst his thinning, sandy hair
because his toupee kept on sliding this way and that.

At first, Celaena thought that the marble would crack as the man dropped down to his knees beside her with force
that could be felt as it rippled across the room. Once again, she was caught unawares as he grabbed her by the back
of her neck and forced her face into the floor. Her hot cheek throbbed against the cold stone.
Thats the proper way to greet royalty, you vermin, he spat, pushing down on her so hard that she thought her skull
would break.

Celaena would have liked to strangle the man with his long mustaches, but, as usual, the arrows and blades of the
surrounding guards put quite a damper on her sick fantasies. Her teeth were barred, and Celaena could feel her
distorted skin chafe against the ice-cold floor. Her arms, still shackled, ached from near-dislocation, the iron pushing
into her stomach with bruising strength.

But, as she had been through worse, Celaena tolerated this humiliation, but soon began to wonder when she was
going to be allowed upfor it had been almost twenty seconds. Her arms were really beginning to ache, and her face
burned from the cold floor.

Eventually, the Crown Prince came to her rescue.

I dont quite comprehend why you would force someone to bow before me when the original purpose of the gesture
was to display ones own allegiance and respect towards one of higher rank, he said in a lazy, arrogant voice that
was as smooth as silk and as pleasant to hear as a choir of angels. Celaena tried to pivot her free eye to look at him,
but only managed to catch a glimpse a pair of black leather boots against the ebony floor. In the light of the massive,
tree-like chandelier, gold specks appeared in the floor and danced before Celaenas eyes, mixing with the sparks and
stars that she was beginning to see.

Dont you think that it ruins the point if you make her bow? Its clear that you respect me, Duke Perringtonn, but I
believe that it is a bit ridiculous for you to put that much effort into forcing Celaena Sardothien to have the same
opinion as you in regards to my power and country.

Duke? Duke? This monster a duke? He cant be serious!

You and I know very well that the woman has no love for me or my father, so perhaps your only purpose is to
humiliate the woman, when, in fact, I believe that she has had quite enough of that.

Had she been able to see, Celaena would have been revolted from the Crown Princes finishing smile, filled with
enough charm and suppressed instinct that it would be easy to understand why so many women were eager to jump
into his bed. But all that she managed to observe were his words. Though his tone was a bit of a nuisance, they were
so pleasant and intelligent that she was taken aback. It was wonderful to hear full, complex sentences again!

Her captor grunted his apologies and reluctantly released her. Celaena stayed still for a moment, waiting for the
monster to retreat a few feet, and then carefully pushed upwards, her cheek peeling off from the marble. She frowned
at the dirt left behind, a mess of grit and salt that stood out against the dark floor. Her shackles clanked and groaned
as she rose to her feet, adjusting the rags wrapped around her, and Celaena Sardothien tossed her long hair behind
her shoulders as she lifted her stiff neck to look upon the prince before her.

He was sprawled across the throne, leaning to one side, his head resting against his propped hand. A slender silver
circlet sat on his full head of blue-black hair, which, even from three yards away, looked silky and soft to the touch.

Despite her queasiness, Celaena found herself forced to admit that the Crown Prince of the DeHavilliard Empire was
beyond handsomehe was beautiful. His dark hair made his stunningly blue eyes stand out, and his golden skin
glowed from good health and grooming. From what she could tell, he had a slender, yet muscular build, which he
seemed to take pains to display with his close-fitting silver and black vest and jacket, tight dark riding pants, and his
swept-back shimmering cape.

But, clothes aside, princes were not supposed to be this handsome! They were supposed to be sniveling, overweight,
stupid, and hideous creatures!

Celaena watched him sit up straight, shaking his hair out of his face with an ease and sensuality that made her
suspect that he had practiced the gesture in the mirror for days on end. Celaena, pushing her screaming memories
out of her head, looked into his aquamarine eyes and felt an unnoticeable blush rise to her dirty face.

He was confident, and arrogant, and charming! He was considerate for her feelings! He looked like a mythical God! He
could speak! He sounded intelligent!
Celaena found herself almost weeping with joy at the prospect of real conversationeven if it was with the Crown
Prince of Adarlan.

At the same time, she was also becoming more and more aware of the state of the rags that she was wearing. They
were little more than rags, actually. Just enough to cover the parts that shouldnt be revealed in publicwhich meant
that her stomach, arms, and legs were kept in good view.

The Crown Prince frowned as he surveyed her.

I thought I asked you to clean her up a bit, he said dully to the Captain. Celaena turned around to see the man
approaching from behind, and was immediately taken aback at not only his age, but also his looks. He couldnt have
been more than twenty-five! While he was in no way as handsome as the crown prince, his brown hair and green eyes
were simply dazzling.

Two attractive men in one room!

If she had been in another place at another time, Celaena Sardothien would have taken full advantage of the good
looks that the Gods had given her.

But now she was in rags, and covered from head to toe in salty dirt and mud. Celaena wished that the light were not
so bright within the room. She frowned. She had diminished. What a miserable state she was in now!

What bad luck.

We were a bit rushed for time, your Majesty, the brown-haired youth stated, rising to his feet. If you like, I can
have her cleaned up now, prince. He gestured at the doors behind them.

No, no, the Crown Prince shook his head, thats quite alright. I can see her potential even with the layers of
whatevers covering her.

The young prince turned his attention back to Celaena, who, despite her wretched state, was beginning to dislike
being talked about as if she were an animal up for sale. She stared into his blue eyes, unblinking. For all his charm, he
was still a DeHavilliard.

So, youre Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans greatest assassin, he purred. You dont look like an assassin, you know.
He paused, looked her over again, and continued. But I suppose that I can see the potential.

The prince raised his dark, well-kept eyebrows. He leaned forward on his throne, resting his elbows against his thighs.
Tell me, whats it like working in my fathers mines? He cocked his head to one side and smiled at her.

Prick.

Her fingers curled into a ball, her jagged nails cutting into her skin.

Absolute Hell, your Majesty, she replied with sweet venom, her smile as false as could be. She was beginning to
take back all her previous notions that he was a decent royal.

The prince snorted and absently ran a hand through his hair, admiring its softness. How often do they give you
lashings, Celaena Sardothien?

Celaena kept her face neutral. If she said too little, would he order it to be increased? What if he killed her for lying if
she exaggerated? Was he that ruthless?

Instead of saying all the dumb things that she could have said, Celaena Sardothien told him the truth.

Five times all together on a good day, ten on a bad one. Its normally in between those though. Celaena
straightened her shoulders and smiled wickedly at him once again, overcoming her momentary fear.

The princes eyes widened as she said this. Fiveon a good day? he stammered as if he couldnt believe it. Then
again, royals are never whipped; so one lash was the equivalent of one hundred.
Yes, five, she said, and then added with a bitter grin, Thats only if the overseer is either exceptionally tired or
exceptionally frightened.

Youre only supposed to be given a maximum of three daily, the Crown Prince snarled. He stood up. Who is your
overseer? What is his name?

Celaena shrugged, ignoring his bizarre change in spirit. I wouldnt know. Hes not the only one whos done it,
actually. The first overseer I had nearly killed methat is, until I killed him. She didnt wait for a reaction. Theyre all
the same. And while I would love for you to take this out on my current overseer, Im afraid that you should take it up
with whoever is in charge of this Hellhole. While her tone dripped with respect, her eyes still gleamed with malice and
anger.

Do youhave many scars? The prince asked softly, almost shamefully, his eyes traveling over her body. Was that
real concern or was it just his curiosity? Celaena twisted her mouth to the side.

Yes, she answered frankly, but I highly doubt that you could see them with all of this grime coating-

Turn around. I want to see them, he commanded. The Crown Prince made a turning motion with his hand and
Celaena obeyed. From behind her, she could hear his footsteps as he approached. They stopped right beside her.

He let out a long hiss through his teeth, his breath hitting her back in tiny caresses of cold. Some of these wounds
are fresh.

Perhaps its because I was whipped less than thirty minutes ago, Celaena said dryly.

She didnt like him examining her ruined back. It made her feel even more humiliated than she already was. She was
Adarlans assassin: she didnt have to put up with this.

Celaena glared at brown-haired youth as he walked over to where the Prince was standing and looked at her back as
well. Some of these can be healed or completely removed, Highness. There are a few that will never go away, but
they can be hidden easily.

She didnt know who it was, but someone reached out a finger and touched one of the wounds, sending a wave of
stinging pain up her spine.

It was at this point that Celaena, confused beyond belief and angry with herself and the two men, whirled to face
them, her temper taking over her mouth.

I will not be looked at and prodded and talked about like some animal in a menagerie! They stepped away from her,
Chaols hand flying to his sword.

Celaenas shackles jangled as she tried to move them into an intimidating position. I demand to be told what you are
to do with me, why I was summoned to this building, what have I done to deserve this, and when is my execution to
be? She hadnt meant to ask the last question, but her mind, now unleashing her irritation and anxieties, had caused
it to burst from between her lips before she could catch it.

And then, to her fury and dismay, the Crown Prince burst out laughing. She glowered at him, her eyes two blazing
sapphires, wishing that she wouldnt be killed if she smacked him across the face for his insolence.

Gods above, he laughed, were not going to kill you. Im actually about to give you an offerwell, once you get
cleaned up, that I expect you will not refuse. He chuckled to himself. For a convict, you certainly demand a lot. But I
wonder, a slow smile spread across his face, for all of your talking and snarling, are you still capable when it comes
to doing what you were convicted for in the first place?

Celaena raised her chained arms towards him, a wicked light in her eyes. Take off these shackles and Ill show you
just how capable I am, your highness.

The prince smiled at her and then turned to the brown-haired man. Lord Chaol, shall we see if our lovely assassin
lives up to her reputation?
Lord?

The Captain of the Guard frowned. In here?

The Crown Prince snorted. No. He smiled at Celaena once more. Before your arrival, I was informed that, in her
spare time, this young lady engages in some very unladylike activities.

Shes an assassin, what did you expect? Duke Perringtonn growled from behind. Celaena, who had forgotten his
presence, now felt even more uncomfortable. Were they going to make her fight?

But the Crown Prince of Adarlan ignored him and continued. Apparently, once a week, Celaena Sardothien is put in a
fighting ring against other workers in the mines and engages in a kind of, he paused, trying to find the words,
everything-goes boxing.

Chaol looked at Celaena, who smiled weakly.

The Crown Prince gestured to the guards stationed around the room before he took a few steps towards her again. His
blue eyes gazed into her own, and he smiled that simpering, lady-seducing smile once more.

Tell me, assassin, would you care to show us what you do every week?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothiens bare feet were ankle-deep in the mud that filled the enclosure. All around the fence stood a
crowd of guards and peasants, every face eager for the bloodshed that would soon begin. On the north wall of the pen
stood the prince, his captain, and the duke, blocked off from others by a horde of black-clad guards. Torches had
been brought out by the dozen, and Celaena paced around the square, ignoring the masses gathered.

She still had no idea why the DeHavilliard family was taking a sudden interest in her, but it didnt seem to be for
executions purposes. A hundred ideas filled her head, each suggesting a different reason for the Crown Princes visit,
each more unlikely than the next. There was one reason that filled her with dread greater than the possibility of
death, but, upon glancing at the three nobles assembled, she took assurance in realizing that that cause was the most
improbable.

A guard yelled out the names of three men, and Celaena stopped her pacing to watch as three men, two of average
size and one of massive proportions walked in through the opening gate. She quickly assessed their attributes. One of
the men had stocky legs that would be difficult to unbalance, but his arms were also short, depriving him of being
able to hold onto her and get himself out of any position. The other average man had no unusual features, only a
thick beard and beady eyes, which, Celaena observed, would have trouble seeing while covered in mud in the torch-lit
light. The final man, tall, muscular, and utterly intimidating was bald and had a sour disposition, as if he had just
swallowed a dozen rotten eggs. He was bare-chested, and let out a horrible growl as he observed Celaena. On dry
land, he could easily crush her, but in mud like this, his height was a disadvantage.

Celaena looked at the Crown Prince, who was talking to Chaol, and then looked at the three men again. A young
sentry stood up on the railing and called to quiet the crowd.

Tonigh, he said through a heavy accent undoubtedly from the forests that bordered the White Fang Mountains,
weve got the incredble pleasure of aving no only the Crown Prince of Ardlan, but also the Capn of the Royal Guard
an the esteemed Duke Perringtonn! The crowd cheered, and the three men waved their hands, smiles plastered
across their faces. Celaena, finally free of her shackles, put her hands on her hips and waited.

In the Wes corner of the ring, weve got Marn, once a farme like many of youselves! There was a bit of applause
as the stocky man waved his hands, looking a bit anxious. Weve got Wol, also a farme, the bearded man waved to
the crowd, An then weve got Raxius, accused an convicted of three charges of kidnappin, rape, an murder!

The crowd cheered the loudest, and Raxius, to their delight, flexed his muscles and barred his yellow teeth. Celaena
bit back a snarl of disgust as she heard his crimes and beheld his arrogance.

Men like that should be hung.

The sentry waited until the crowd had quieted and then pointed to Celaena. In the Eas corner of the ring is no lady!
Celaena held her chin high, waiting for him to finish the absurd introduction he always reserved for her.

Convicted of more couns of murder than coul be recorded, an sentenced for six lives worth of har labor, I give you
the Queen of the Underworld, Adarlans infamous assassin, Celaena Sardothien!

Celaena didnt bother to wave to the cheering crowd. She took a step backward, positioning her feet in fresh mud and
continued to wait. She controlled her breathing, looked at the three slaves, and picked her first victim.

On the coun of three, the guard said.

Celaenas ankles shifted into place, her muscles tightening. Her long hair, tightly braided, blew in the night breeze.

One

Celaenas face was grim as the three men tried to arrange themselves.

Two

She cracked the joints in her hands and let them hang loosely. The mud beneath her was thin enough to run across.
Her toes loosened their grip on the ground.

Three!

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Lord Chaol, would you mind taking Celaena Sardothien to the bathing chambers? And see to it that shes given nice
clothes and that her wounds are treated, would you? I want to see her at her best before I make my decision.

The prince turned to an exhausted, muddied Celaena and let out a long breath. You certainly managed to maintain a
lot of that fighting spirit!

Celaena, dripping with mud and barely able to stand, glared at him. I do my best, your highness.

The youth laughed. I dont think that that Raxius fellow will ever get the mud out of his lungs.

Celaena smiled weakly. It had been a moderately difficult fight, the only obstacles really being the lighting and the
abundance of mud.

Nonetheless, with expert ease and speed, she had taken out the two farmers within five minutes, moving so quickly
that neither of them could catch up to her assault. She had used all sorts of maneuvers on them, mostly for show;
and while she did feel a bit guilty about harming enslaved peasants, the satisfaction of seeing their forms lying still in
the mud overcame any other feeling.

Raxius, the monster of a man, had waited while she had attacked the other two, pacing around the enclosure like a
wild animal. Once she had finished, his twisted smile had been enough to send her flying for his throat.

Her hands, cheek, and stomach still ached from the few blows he had given her, but Celaena had been much faster
than he was, and had managed to make good use of the slippery mud. His height and weight did not hold up well
against her swift kicks to his legs, and as soon as she had caused him to lose balance, she had dealt a deadly blow to
his neck that had rendered him unconscious. The crowd had loved it, of course, but before the assassin could even
revel in her victory, Chaol had opened the gate and dragged her back into the room where this had all begun.

Celaena put a brown hand to her throbbing cheek, feeling for any broken bones. Upon finding none, she turned to the
Captain of the Guard, who nodded his farewells to the prince before grabbing her by the arm.

As he led her down the hallway, Celaena Sardothien realized that still no explanation had been given. Confusion and
irritated filled to the point where she thought her head would explode, but it was all lost as she found herself once
again being ushered quickly from one place to another by the man in black.
CHAPTER 3

For a royal bathing chamber, the air was surprisingly cold. Then again, Celaena Sardothien was hardly wearing
anything to begin with. But shouldnt it at least have been steamy from the heat of the water?

Celaena frowned warily.

Unless the water wasnt heated at all.

Hot or cold, it would do hell to the wounds on her back.

She scratched at the caked mud on her arms, wincing as her sore, swollen fingers throbbed in protest. As unfair and
unexpected as it had been, Celaena could not help but smirk with satisfaction over her victory. Three men knocked
out cold within a matter of minutes! Granted, if she had wanted to kill them, it would have been a matter of seconds,
but

But I suppose that I will have to take what I can find. At least they picked a man that deserved itthough it truly is
too bad that I wasnt given a weapon. I could have made things so much more interesting for the Crown Prince of
Adarlan

She quickly surveyed the large room, observing the size of each the six, slitted windows placed high up on one of the
gray stone walls; then in the dark corners for any others that might be watching her, save for Chaol Wydrael. But
there was no one to be found. Celaena let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing, and she looked over the room
again, this time with a human eye.

In the center of the room lay a large, rectangular pool with gold-covered faucets at either end. The hands were
shaped like fins, the faucet head like that of a gaping, vicious fish. They dimly gleamed in the gloomy room, bands of
light dancing along their surface so that it looked as if it were swimming through the stone.

A small set of steps led down into the dark water, which appeared to be growing exceptionally cold. The water was
still, so calm that it could have been sitting there for ages. Celaena looked at her muddied body and ground her teeth.

Against one wall was an oak table; on top of which lay many white towels. Of all the things in the room, they were
probably the most pleasant to look at. Several gold hooks, shaped like the faucets fins, lined the wall beside the
table, displaying a few white bathrobes. They looked as soft and fluffy as their unformed friends on the table. Her rags
began to chafe against her skin as she saw a bar of pink soap sitting in a glass dish at the end of the table.

Am I to bathe myself then? Celaena asked the Captain of the Guard, who was standing beside her in the doorway.
Werent they supposed to have maids to do this? Or was she not esteemed enough to receive maids?

Or perhaps the maids dont want to bathe me.

Whatever the scenario might be, here was the first opportunity shed had in two years to properly bathe herself. She
didnt know how long shed be able to stay clean after this, but she fully intended on making the most of this event
cold water or no.

Chaol kneeled down and unlocked the shackles that had been re-attached around her ankles, letting them fall to the
floor with a clank. She rotated her raw, burning joints, and smiled slightly. The bath beckoned.

Celaena walked forward, aware of the young lords eyes upon her, and gingerly touched the water with her foot.
Instead of the ice-cold hell that she had expected, it was deliciously warm and smelled faintly of herbs. A tingling
sensation ran down her body.

Your handmaidens should arrive soon, he said coldly.

While the Crown Prince had the voice of a celestial being, this mans voice was filled with spite and grounded strength.

Get into the water if you like, you will not have to wait long for them.
His tone was far from kind, but Celaena was surprised to realize that his words were not commanding or
condescending. If he hadnt been a royal guard and she hadnt been a great criminal, would they have gotten along?
Perhaps even been friends? She suppressed a grin.

Perhaps even more?

Celaena dipped her foot in the water again, waiting to hear his departing footsteps, but from the sound of it, Lord
Chaol wasnt moving. Celaena let out a sharp hiss.

Not commanding or condescending indeed.

Are you going to stand there while I undress? Celaena turned around and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. As
grateful as she was for a bath and to be out of the mines, this kind of disrespectjust on the level of one human
being to anotherwas almost absurd. He stared at her blankly, and when he didnt reply, Celaena faced the pool once
again.

Undressing before a male stranger was definitely not worth the price of a marvelous bath. Even if she did stink like a
barn animal. Even if she looked like one. Even if she-

Screw modesty.

Celaena began to reach around to unfasten her top when she heard a cough and a shuffling noise. Jerking her head
back, Celaena smiled when she saw that Chaol had turned his back to her and was staring at the oak doors.

Coward. Youre not as tough as you look.

Ill keep my back turned towards you as long as you dont try anything foolish, he said with a growl to his voice. I
was given orders not to let you out of sight, and if you attempt an escape or murder of any sort, Ill have you back in
those salt mines before you can blink. Im very good at my job, Sardothien, so dont get any stupid ideas.

Celaena Sardothien smirked to herself, and removed her grimy clothing. Mud fell from her in chunks, and Celaena
scratched at her chest before tossing her rags from the pool.

Like shed do anything to mess up this golden opportunity!

But her smile faded when she saw the state of her body. She couldnt remember the last time she had seen herself
naked. She felt dizzy.

She had wasted away to practically nothing. Her ribs were visible, she had bones showing where flesh and meat
should have hidden them, and her breasts, once moderately supple and well formed, were no more than they had
been in the midst of puberty. Her nipples were now entirely out of proportion! They looked huge compared to the rest
of her breast! Celaena cupped her breasts in her hands, brushing aside dirt and felt a lump rise in her throat. Where
the mounds of soft flesh met her bony chest, rough, bumpy lines stretched across in strands of white and purple.
Celaena released her chest and looked down at them again. They were now more conical than round, and for some
reason, all that she could think about was how they would look in a dress.

It was almost enough to make her cry.

Looking down at her reflection in the water, Celaena saw that her face was just as haggard and bony as the rest of
her body. Her cheekbones were sharp, her jaw so pronounced that it didnt appear to be real, and her eyes were
slightly, but ever so disturbingly, sunken in.

This was what two years of near-starvation could do to you.

How disgusting.

She cursed her vanity, hating the burning around the edges of her eyes, hoping that whatever the Crown Prince had
in mind for her would entail eating and lots of sunshine.
Still repulsed, the assassin strode into the water, wincing as it hit her sore ankles, and stopped when she was hip-
deep. This was really going to hurt. Until she had come to the mines, physical pain had always been a difficult thing
for her to handle; and now, even after learning to endure whippings and labor, but the thought of what agony the
water might bestow upon her stayed her feet.

Her body tightened in painful anticipation. Celaena glanced at the water and the towels and the soap.

Are you going to get in, or are you just going to splash around on the steps? the Captain of the Guard called over
his shoulder.

Hissing between her gritted teeth and bracing her body for the pain, Celaena cursed violently and dove beneath the
water.

A second later she was back at the surface, gasping at the sting of the water against her wounds. Her feet pushed
against the bottom, her knees contracting to bring her back under as cold air stung her wounds with as much malice
as the water. Tears sprang to her eyes and she practically ran into shallower water, her hips rotating and pushing
against the thick water.

It hurt too much. It was like having each wound on her back wide open. Shed have to bathe herself on the steps. It
was impossible to breathe when her wounds were exposed to the herb-filled water. Shed drown. She knew it.

By the time her handmaidens arrived, Celaena Sardothien had washed herself using the soap and was in the process
of drying off. Her back was as close to being clean as she could manage without suffering, so naturally there was still
a bit of grime coating the skin around her wounds.

The servants came in a group of fourand instead of being the delicate and quiet women that Celaena had expected,
these handmaidens were more like handmen. They were all much taller and heavier than Celaena, with biceps that
were nearly as large as her waist. They wore crisp white dresses that did not compliment their broad frames and their
hair was drawn back so tightly that their brutish, hairy faces were stretched out. If it werent for the massive breasts
that seemed on the verge of bursting out of their dresses, Celaena would have thought that they were actually men.

They took one look at the naked Celaena and rushed at her.

The poor assassin yelped in terror as the she-men dragged her back to the pool and threw her into the cold water (by
now it had turned quite icy). Chaol Wydrael turned in time to see a pair of flailing legs and arms be tossed beneath
the surface with a huge splash.

Celaena didnt know whether she should worry about breathing or worry about the pain that was racing up and down
her back and the rest of her body. Water went up her nose and pushed against her face. She couldnt see anything.
Strong arms flipped her over onto her stomach and Celaena screamed beneath the water as a pair of hands began to
scrub her back with soap. They had entered the water with her! She fought the urge to kick at them, remaining as still
as she could while being partially drowned.

Another set of hands grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head above the water for a quick breath before she was
submerged once more. Celaena Sardothiens gasp for air was more of a scream of agony, and to add to her
frustration, she got more water up her nose as the beast-women shoved her under. Her nose was burningshe
couldnt breathe! She was going to drown!

Her head was pulled up again, this time for a longer period of time, and Celaena cursed and coughed before someone
put a hand over her mouth and held her while someone else scraped and scrubbed at her. Thankfully, Celaena also
controlled her urge to bite the thick handshe considered her civilized reaction to be thanks enough for the fact that
they were now holding her above the surface.

When they were done with her back, they continued to scrub her all overcausing her body to become so numbed
with pain and soap that she didnt know if she still had any skin. The worst, however, was when they had taken her
feet and begun to scrape away the thick callous that covered each heel, creating such a shrieking fit that Celaena had
involuntarily kicked and lashed so violently that Chaol had had to bellow at her to stop. The ten minutes that it took
for them to thoroughly clean Celaena felt like an eternity.

As they dunked her a few times beneath the water, rinsing the soap from her hair and throbbing scalp, Celaena
Sardothien wondered if this was what it felt like to be a washboard.
Her arms were almost yanked from the sockets as two of them dragged her up the steps, while the other two
proceeded to take two of the towels from the table alongside the wall, ignoring the wet state of their own clothes. Her
knees were shaking and her feet were utterly useless against the slippery stone.

Celaena couldnt remember ever feeling so raw and cold. Her back throbbed and her face felt like it had been
scrubbed to the bone. They dried her off with as much mercy as they had shown when washing, and very soon,
Celaena was standing beside Lord Chaol, bundled within a bathrobe. It was warm, and soft, and so wonderfully
comfortable that all thoughts of pain began to drain away. Celaenas legs found their strength, and she brushed her
dripping, tangled hair from her face, keeping her eyes on the door in front of her.

The washerdemons were now drying themselves off, grumbling to themselves. Celaena tapped her foot impatiently.

The Captain of the Guard motioned for her to follow him, nodding his thanks to the she-men from Hell; and strode
down the dimly lit hallway with Celaena Sardothien at his heels, dazed, aching, and miserable.

How did you enjoy the handmaidens? he asked. Lord Chaol Wydrael couldnt contain a smile as he looked at her
from the corner of his eye. Celaena scowled and pulled her robe tighter around her. The marble floors were cold and
hard against her bare feet.

Its funny that youd call them that, she said with false politeness. The way they looked and acted, I would have
thought them the brothers of my overseer. If it werent for their dainty grunts, I would never have suspected that
they were maidens.

She smiled at him sweetly. Celaena Sardothiens feet began to freeze, but she managed to bear it, looking at the
many portraits that lined the walls of the hallway. They were all men, each dressed with as many frills and velvet
folds of clothing as the next. But even these pampered and petted lords could not keep her from thinking of the
burning pain arising in her back.

What a terrible way to be washed.

She could feel her open wounds leaking blood onto the pure white of her robe. Her blood was thin and slippery, and
she twitched uncomfortably as a thin trail of blood ran down her back. Celaena wanted to never step within a foot of a
bathtub ever again.

Lord Chaol stopped before an anonymous door and opened it for her. Wondering what other handmaidens were
waiting for her in there, Celaena expected to be assaulted at once, but was instead greeted by warmth, soft carpeting,
and three very gentle-looking women.

These are your handmaidens, Sardothien, he said with a feral smile. Theyll dress you and try to make something
of you so that you dont land up back in those salt mines. Dont worry though, he added with a gleam in his eye, Ill
be standing right here, waiting for you to make a move. These women are startled very easily, and as soon as I hear
a scream or cry of dismay Chaol smiled at her wickedly and patted the hilt of his sword as he turned his back to
her.

Celaena and the three women looked at each other silently. Sighing, Adarlans assassin dropped her bathrobe and
waited for Hell to fall.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

An hour later, Celaena could hardly believe her eyes. Her wounds had been bound, her skin was glowing and clean,
and most of all: she was wearing expensive clothes. She would have never worn anything so elaborate, but then
again, she had been out of the fashion world for two years, so who knew what the latest rave was? It was after
Celaena took two steps that she remembered why she hated dresses so much.

Corsets.

They had come into fashion, invented by some overweight fool from Belaegyr, just a few months before her capture,
and the assassin had refused to buy one after going into a dress shop, trying it on, and feeling as if her rib cage were
being broken in six places. Celaena took a step forward and let out a squawk of dismay.
She could barely move! Her sleeves pinned her arms at her sides; her twisted, curled, and pinned hair made her head
hurt if she moved it too quickly; and her delicate silk slippers would probably fall apart if she walked faster than an
aged woman. Looking down at the rich fabrics of her gown, Celaena began to think that her rags, dirt, and whippings
were much better than this kind of agony. How did women withstand this form of bondage?

The three handmaidens beamed at their handiwork, and Celaena could not deny that they had good reason to. They
had been given a child of slavery and after an hour of brushing, glossing, and binding, they had created a queen of
beauty. They had used their cosmetics to ease the harshness of her face, spreading a powder of crushed pearls
beneath and around her eyes to fill in the darkened spaces, and dusting her cheeks with rouge to give them a much
more lifelike appearance. Her bruisesfrom mining and her recent fightwere covered with powder, and as the
assassin surveyed herself in the mirror for the last time, a bit of hope returned. Her breasts might now be small, and
her face might be bruised, and her back might be scarred, but someday she might actually look normal once again.

Celaena managed to give her handmaidens a weak smile before Lord Chaol turned to look at her.

His eyes widened as a grin spread across his face. Unlike the Crown Prince, his smile was not so seductive as it was
foolishly amusing.

Well, gods above! You clean up like a copper coin! he laughed aloud. My Lord will be very pleased indeed! I knew
that there was something pleasant to look at underneath all that dirt. Now, my Lady, if you will take my arm, I would
be more than happy to lead you to my Lord so that he may have a look at the princess we have created.

Created?

She felt a dreadful wave of nausea. What was he talking about?

Without waiting for a reply, he took her arm in his own and walked with her down the many hallways and staircases of
the building at a pace fit for a frail court lady.

Celaena Sardothien scowled all the way.

CHAPTER 4

Once again, Celaena Sardothien was in the throne room.

Standing at a window with his back turned to the door was the Crown Prince of Adarlan, gazing out at the night sky.
The massive oak doors had been left open, so naturally their arrival had only been announced by the rustling of
Celaenas dress, which in the end wasnt a very loud noise at all. There were a few others in the room as well,
including Duke Perringtonn and the Royal Guard, all of whom looked at her with open-mouthed dismay.

Celaena ran through the few things that had been said to her about this bizarre event, and felt dizzy once again.

The Crown Prince had said something about a bargain that would benefit her, and Lord Chaol had talked as if she
wasnt about to go back into the salt mineswas she free at last? And then there was the last, the most awful, part of
itcreating a princess.

My Lord, Chaol said softly, bowing at the waist.

Celaena felt her face go red as the Crown Prince turned to look at them.

Was this what if felt like on an auction block?

The prince expressed the same shock as the other five men in the room, blinking rapidly as if his eyes were deceiving
him. Did she really look that different than when she had first come in?

What a foolish thing to askof course you do! And you know that youre prettyif now simply skinny, so this is
definitely something to gape at! Besides, who would believe that someone so attractive, so alluring, could be capable
of killingof beating up three men? How mysterious, how charming, how puzzling and disturbing I must be!
Celaenas eyes began to glaze over with self-satisfaction, but she was quickly brought out of her vanity-stricken
trance by Dorian DeHavilliards few steps towards them.

A slow, easy smile spread across the princes face. Much better, Lord Chaol, much better.

It was the same seductive grin, but while it had made Celaena Sardothiens knees feel like jelly at first, it now filled
her with a red-hot rage. How dare he look at her and talk about her like that!

If I werent in such a damn tight dress, Id kill him. Id kill him and then tell his father a few things that would

Gentlemen, would you care to leave us for a few moments? Celaena Sardothien and I have a matter to discuss in
private. The Crown Prince pointed at the doors and smiled at the men in the room. Lord Chaol, you may stay where
you are.

Duke Perringtonn was the last to leave, giving Celaena a look that could have shot daggers as he slammed the great
doors behind him.

The Crown Prince strode over to his throne and took a seat, crossing his long legs. Were men supposed to do that?
Celaena moved forward, her anger fading into curiosity about her current situation. Revenge and the thoughts that
went with it were the last things she ever wanted to remember or recall. She had spent too long putting those feelings
under lock and key, and it wasnt as if shed actually accomplish anything by

Dont think about it. Dont even remember it. You forgot about it a long, long time ago, and now that this is
happening, dont you dare think about what you were told to forget.

Celaena watched the prince, regaining her mental composure. Would she be sold to another place? Was she to be
executed? Or was she being let free?

If its the latter, I swear to the gods above that I wont kill anyone ever againand Ill do some redeeming things that
Ill think up later. Like save some children and give money to every temple I see. And go to every high holiday
celebration. And try to not be so vain or mean. I swear.

Before I present to you my proposition, Id like to know something, my sweet assassin. The prince smiled once
again and idly brushed his cheek with a finger.

His eyes gleamed. How are you and that dress getting along?

Celaena could have raked her nails down his face. Her anger came back full-throttle and she felt herself struggling for
self-control.

Why dont you try this corset on and then tell me what you think about it, your Holiness? Celaena said innocently as
she smiled at him. With that pretty face of yours, Im sure youd be much better suited to wear it.

Lord Chaol coughed.

The Crown Prince laughed in dismay, his eyes wide at such an insult. Do you know that my father could have you
executed for saying that? Hes sentenced men to their deaths for saying less, you know. Its a bit risky to say such a
thing to me when your freedom is on the line, isnt it? His amusement faded into a glower.

My freedom? Celaena could hardly believe her ears. She was being set loose? Her heart began to pound and her
blood raced through her veins with dizzying effect.

And I swear that Ill never curse again, or drink too heavily or overindulge in sweets.

Yes, your freedom, he said sharply. So, I highly suggest, Miss Sardothien, that you watch that mouth of yours
before you end up working back in the mines. His mouth came out of its sneer and warped into the same, falsely
sweet manner with which she had smiled at him. His eyes still held a glare, but that soon quickly faded.

Anyway, the prince said promptly, uncrossing his legs, I dont believe that weve been properly introduced.
What do introductions have anything to do with this?

She wanted to leave protocol in the dust and find out what was happening. Her blood throbbed in her temples.

He looked at his nails. As you probably know, I am Dorian DeHavilliard, Crown Prince of Adarlan.

He said his name as beautifully as it had been meant to be pronounced. She fought back the surge of emotions that
rose at the mention of his name. As pretty as his name was, Celaena still disliked himhe might have been beautiful
to look upon, but his manner annoyed her to no end. Yes, he was definitely a DeHavilliard.

As you know, he drawled, Adarlan has been on acrusade for several years now. My father believes that it is our
duty as the most powerful country in the world to bring the rest of the world up to our standards. He let out a yawn.
Whether I agree with this is still a choice to be made. But since I am not yet King, it is not for me to decide.

There is a country, across the sea, which is the leading force in an alliance against our country. The Prince frowned
deeply.

You mean Wendlyn, correct? Celaena asked, her brows knotting.

Yes. Wendlyn, he said with a sigh. My father has the idea that if we destroy, or enlighten, Wendlyn, the other few
resisting countries will fall into our hands. I dont know how much information you receive about the outside world in
thisplace, but the war between Wendlyn and Adarlan has been going on for three years now and no territorial
advances have been made.

Celaena remembered hearing of an overseas war beginning in the year before she had been enslaved. But she had
thought that it was some sort of trade war between prosperous countriesnot a war to decide empires. She shifted
uncomfortably on her feet. Was the prince going to send her into the army?

Their borders and coastlines are so well protected that it has made invasion impossible. They are a country of sea
people. They know the waters and reefs around their country like the back of their hands. Their ships are superior to
ours and, though my father does not like to admit it, our lack of knowledge about their waters puts us at a great
disadvantage. There are massive coral reefs surrounding Wendlyn, and only the most experienced and highly trained
officers of their country are able to navigate through the treacherous coastline. Dozens of our ships have been sunk
on the reefs. And the two ships that were successfully able to get through them were quickly razed by a massive fleet
of Wendlyn ships waiting for them on the other side.

Prince Dorian rolled his eyes and stretched. The contempt in his voice was startling. How long my father plans on
continuing this futile mission is beyond me, but as of recent, hes had the idea that the best way to defeat Wendlyn is
to do something quite rash and bizarre.

The prince stopped talking and stared hard at Celaena. What I am about to tell you right now you are sworn never to
repeat, no matter what happens. If you tell a soul, and I mean a single soul about this, I personally will have you
hanged. Is that clear?

Like crystal, Celaena swallowed. She didnt like the way his eyes commanded obedience from her. He would make a
good ruler some dayif he didnt follow in his fathers footsteps and got over his excessive arrogance. Maybe hed
even dissolve the empire that he was so dismissive of. Hopefully shed be around to see it.

Good, the prince replied, his face still serious and terrible. My father believes that the fastest and best way to
destroy Wendlyn is from within. He wants the King of Wendlyn and his son assassinated; and wants the maps of the
coral reefs along with Wendlyns naval defense arrangements.

Celaena was beginning to see where all of this was going.

Both you and I know that in Adarlan, as well as Wendlyn, opportunities for women are not great. Men dominate the
workforce and women are expected to serve and keep house. Which is why a male assassin would be impossible to
get into Wendlyn. Males coming from Adarlan to Wendlyn, even those seeking asylum, are turned back. Women,
however, are not. Female assassins and spies remain unheard of in both countries.

The prince smiled, his face lightening, Which is probably why you were so damn good at your job, Celaena
Sardothien. My father managed to keep your sex hidden after your capture. To him, the idea of the public knowing
that a female had caused such damage to our country was a bad onewhat if other women took this as an example
and became like you? Thered be worldwide chaos. Night would become day and day would become night!

So, as of now, you are only a name. But a name that still, and I believe that this may please you greatly, inspires
fear within the hearts of all political leaders and aristocrats in this country.

They just think that Im a man, Celaena said darkly, frowning. What was the use of a great name and reputation if
they were given to the wrong kind of person?

Well, yes, he said. But your work, especially that incident with the hairpin, has not been forgotten. He was still
smiling. For the past three months, my father has sent out his officers, nobles, and I to search Adarlan for women
capable of fulfilling his desperate plan. These are women who are strong and capable of killing, yet pleasant in
appearance; able to make good conversation like any well-educated lady; and, most of all, beautiful.

She had competition for this job? Celaenas frown did not fade.

In three months, we have found twenty women, you included, who fit this description. In another six months time,
my father will select the woman who is most worthy and capable of completing this mission.

Celaena wondered if the prince was getting thirsty from all this talking.

In the next six months, even though several of the maidens have had some experience, you all will be going through
a process of training and elimination. We have beauty and etiquette experts from all over Adarlan coming in to teach
you manners and court protocol; we have physical trainers and warriors from the army and the royal guard (including
Lord Chaol) who will instruct you in the use of weaponry and battle; and we will have every dress and shoemaker
working around the clock to make you all wardrobes fit for a princess. At the end of your training session, my father
will decide which lady is to go to Wendlyn based on her beauty, grace, and strength and skill as a warrior and
assassin. She will then infiltrate the castle, wait for the opportune moment, and then fulfill her duty before returning
home.

Celaena didnt know how to reply to this. Was this what she was needed for? Killing the King of Wendlyn? She could
do it in her sleep. Couldnt she? Doubt ran through her, as well as a slight tremor of fear and guilt.

But why did she have to go through all of that training first? True, she was probably a bit rusty, but thats what
happens when youre malnourished, beaten, and only allowed to kill using rocks and pickaxes!

I wont tell you the details about what will happen once you get to Wendlyn because I dont even know if you will be
selected yet. But, he said slowly, if you are, and you succeed, my father has promised to clear your name and grant
you your freedom.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her freedom? It was too good to be true. But what if she wasnt selected to go on the
mission? A knot of dread began to form in her stomach.

If you do not, however, go on the mission, my father agreed to lower your sentence from six lives worth of labor in
the mines to fifty years.

Celaena snorted. It was definitely too good to be true. If thats what you call lowering a sentence, she sneered, Im
still as good as dead. Two years in this place almost killed meimagine what twenty-five times that number will do?
Ill be dead within the year. She brushed a stray curl out of her face, trying to regain her breath from talking.

So, you wont take the offer? It was now the princes turn to frown.

Stupid man.

Of course Im going to take the offer, she snapped. Id rather take the chance of getting my freedom and a clean
name than be stuck in this dismal place until I die. Her corset squeezed and struck against her expanding lungs, and
Celaenas eyes watered.

Freedom
Celaena did not smile, but her heart was doing leaps and bounds. Her doubt was washed away by that one word:
freedom.

Visions filled her head. She could be free if she beat the other women and was appointed to go on this mission. She
could live like a normal personoff of the money that she had made in her assassinating days, still locked away in
bank accounts across the continent. She could live off of her money until she died an old, very rich lady. She could
have a family and children and have a clean name and record

Freedom.

No more whippings, no more bad food, no more death and darkness. Shed see the sun; shed feel fresh air. Shed be
able to read and discuss and learn anything she wanted. Shed sleep in a bed in a room by herself. Oh, how great and
vast the world seemed now that the all-encompassing gloom of the mines was banished by a single word!

Freedom!

But how would she possibly outwit, outshine, and rise above the other women? What kind of competition were they?

Celaena Sardothien felt a broad grin spread across her face, her eyes shining wickedly. None of that mattered.

After all, she wasnt Adarlans assassin for nothing.

CHAPTER 5

At dawn the next morning they departed.

After Celaena had agreed to Prince Dorians offer, Lord Chaol had brought in her handmaids to show her to her room.
It had taken them nearly three quarters of an hour to remove Celaenas dress, clean her face, and brush out her hair,
and, despite the fact that she was ready to fall asleep, they brought her a dinner large enough for all four of the she-
men.

Her disappointment, however, had been extreme and genuine when she had taken a few hurried bites of the food, run
to the bathroom, and thrown up. It had been two and a half years since Celaena Sardothien had eaten a real meal,
and her stomach, unused to rich food and excessive quantities of it, wouldnt hold more than a little bit at a time. She
had eaten grueleven when the guards had sneaked her extraand shoveling chicken and fruits and duck and soup
and vegetables and rice and bread and butter and wine down her throat was almost impossible to do. It would take
her weeks, maybe even a month or so, to regain both her appetite and the weight she had lost.

Celaena looked at the table full of food and clutched at her throat, her eyes welling in frustration.

She had been overworked, underfed, and had had to sleep on hard wooden floors with only a dirty cloth for a blanket
and an arm for a pillow. It wasnt fair. She now had this food, this marvelous, incredibly aromatic food, and she
couldnt eat it. Celaena looked at the roast chicken. Shed have to be careful about what she ate. It would have to be
foods rich in fat and proteinfoods that would make her regain weight. Celaena waited until her stomach calmed,
took a handful of small bites of the duck, waited, waited, ate a bit more, and decided to stop as her nausea returned.

If she were going to be in Renaril with twenty other women, shed be eating wellshe didnt need to consume all of
this food at once. She had to be patient, smart

Celaena popped a berry, sweet, tart, and so succulent that it made her heart dance a merry jig, into her mouth and
left the table.

Naturally, when Celaena finally got into bed, it felt as if she were sleeping on a cloud. She had forgotten what luxury
was, what food other than soggy oats tasted like, and what clean clothes and a clean body could do to a person.

When Lord Chaol came to awake her in the morning, Celaena nearly cried at the first thing she saw.

Sunlight.
Pure, fresh, warm sunlight. She hadnt seen the sun in so long. It leaked in through the drapes in lines and smears
across her room. Celaena ran to the window, threw open the curtains and looked out at the bleakness of Endovier.
The guards positioned beneath her windows didnt bother to look up as she stared at the blue sky, her face breaking
into a full smile. Thankfully, despite poor health care and many fights, her teeth were still intact. It would have been
disastrous if she had been missing several.

Her mood was delightfully cheerful; she didnt even mind when her handmaids had insisted upon coiling her long,
braided hair onto the back of her head to make her look more lady-like. They had urged in their quiet, gentle voices
that her riding habit took away from her femininity (they disapproved of the pants, blouse, boots, and cape so much
that Lord Chaol had to demand that Celaena wear it) and that an ornate hairstyle would bring back the woman that
was lost within the male clothing.

To Celaena, it was hardly male clothing. Her white blouse was frilly and billowy enough that she felt like it would blow
away in the wind. But they made her breasts, now bound beneath bandages for her back, look larger than they
actually were, so the assassin considered it to be the most glorious shirt she had ever put on. The pants were a warm
oak color and had the feel of velvet, but did not have the rich, shining appearance of the material. Her boots were just
about the one masculine thing on her, but even they were crafted for a womans foot. Made from soft, brown leather,
they would have made any huntsman proud.

However, the only item of clothing that Celaena really loved was her cape. A beautiful shade of forest green with
delicate, little light green vines and pink and blue flowers along the trim that must have taken its maker ages to
embroider, Celaenas cape was truly fit for a queen. The dark green inside of the large hood was lined with velvet that
she kept on stroking, running her fingers across the smooth, silky surface as if she were petting an animal. Adarlans
assassin wondered if she had ever owned such a wonderful piece of clothing.

So, with all of this lovely clothing, it was hard for Celaena not to look as dazzling as she had the night before, if not
more because of her shining, smiling face. It was awkward for her, as an assassin, to be treated so finelyand she
wondered if her handmaidens knew who and what she was.

Her breakfast was as large as her dinner had been, and the assassin carefully chose the most fattening and nutritional
foods on the table, taking her time and controlling her portions. It would not do to vomit all over her clothing.
Celaena, despite the small amount of food she had consumed, was so full by the time Chaol dragged her from her
rooms that she had difficulty walking.

However, the sunshine and the budding sky made her so happy that Celaena Sardothien was still all smiles when she
mounted her horse, feeling as if she could have flown from her saddle into the sapphire blanket above them.

It was a rather large company. There were twenty all together; the prince riding at the front with, to Celaenas
extreme disappointment, Duke Perringtonn at his side. Behind them followed a band of eight soldiers, two of them
each bearing Adarlans royal flag. Between this group of guards and the next group of eight that took up the rear,
were Celaena and Lord Chaol, who rode side by side atop large, bay geldings. Lord Chaol, as Celaena gathered, was
responsible for the princes protection. This meant that for the entire journey, he was to be her shadow, watching her
every move in case she did anything naughty.

After doing a final check on their supplies, they left Endovier behind, passing the large hills and their gaping mouths,
passing the carts full of salt crystals, passing the whips and the chains until they finally passed between the massive,
black iron-wrought gates and departed from her doom.

Celaena barely thought of how disappointed the guards would be when they learned that their favorite slave was
gone, or of how her overseer would scratch his bald head before yelling for someone else to torment, and a dark cloud
passed from her heart as the company walked down the large road, the sounds of conversation and horses filling the
air.

As the morning worn on, it revealed a glorious day; the sky was a crisp blue with hardly a cloud to be seen for miles.
It was all Celaena could do to keep from laughing aloud with joy at the wonderful autumn day before themespecially
as they got further and further from the dismal mines.

Conversation between the assassin and the young lord was rare; Celaena was too busy taking in the world around her
to want to talk to him anyway. By mid-morning they had entered the Forest of Glamasil, a wood that surrounded
Endovier and spread across a huge chunk of the empire. Some maps claim it stretched from Trasien all the way to
Finntierland, others from Trasiens North Sea to Eyputiusunns Gulf of Oro. Either way, it was a massive forest that
often served as a continental divide between the civilized countries of the East and the largely unpopulated,
uncharted countries of the West. The King of Adarlan, of course, had marched a few thousand troops into the Lands of
the West, establishing himself as King.

Celaena gazed westwards and frowned. She doubted that anyone had even seen his army claim victory over the
several tribal territories, let alone even asked them what they were doing in the middle of nowhere. Rumor had it that
once the king was done with Wendlyn, he would begin colonizing the West. She could have cared less about the
oncoming rise of cities and towns in the wide plains and miserable mountains of that region, and the assassin hoped
that the king would be foolish enough to build an entire city on the southwest volcanic region.

Celaena turned her attention back to the forest, smiling to herself. The leaves on the trees were all different shades of
red, green, yellow, purple, and brown; and a rich assortment of fallen leaves coated the path before them. Despite
the ravages of conquest, the country beyond the salt mines was beautiful. Once you got past the desolate, dry and
rocky terrain that stretched for only about a mile and a half, you entered a lush and vibrant forest that was teeming
with life.

Legend said that before Adarlan began its conquest and when all life was deemed equal and good, these forests had
been full of magick and mystery. Its denizens had been the Little Folk, also known as faeries: gnomes, sprites,
nymphs or whatever name they had once held. They had been under the guidance and protection, however, of their
cousins, the Faethe original inhabitants and settlers of this forest. They were the oldest beings on the earth,
immortal, though they now were gone.

With the growing corruption and industrialization of Adarlan, some believed that the faerie and Fae folk had fled,
seeking shelter in the wild, untouched places of the world. But others knew the truth: the King of Adarlan had
outlawed itmagick, Fae, faeriesto the point where even those who had had power in their blood began to believe
that it had never really existed. Even Celaena, despite herself, now considered it to be a metaphor for the uncivilized,
less technologically dependent years of the world.

Still, she knew what had happened to Adarlans Fae, and she couldnt help but keep an eye out for anything unusual.
This forest made her feel strange.

It wasnt until midday that they stopped to rest, and as much as she hated to admit it, Celaena was so sore that she
could barely walk. She had never been fond of riding horsesand she now remembered why. The insides of her thighs
were so sore that she felt like something had been permanently ripped.

Lunch was quick and delicious, the assassin managing to eat a few bites under Chaols surveillance; and before
Celaena knew it, they were mounting their horses once again. To her embarrassment, Celaenas legs had become so
stiff that Lord Chaol had to help her up onto her horse. It was painful to ride, and her nose also suffered a blow as the
continual stench of horse sweat and excrement floated to the back of the entourage.

According to Chaol, the trip to the Capital of Adarlan, Renaril, would take two weeks at most. When Celaena asked
him if she was to wear the same clothes for two weeks straight, he had smiled at her and assured her that in her
saddlebags there were several pairs of clean clothes.

Dinner that night was longer than lunch, and while there was plenty of food to go around, it was not nearly as tasty as
her meal the night before. But then again, they only had soldiers to cook their meals for them, not master chefs. She
was still full from her earlier meal, but she forced herself to eat a few bites of meat.

Conversation was still minimal between Chaol and Celaena. The prince and Duke Perringtonn seemed to be busy
discussing something political, and the sixteen guards were happy talking amongst themselves.

It pleased Celaena to know that despite her pale skin and severe thinness, men still found her attractive. Every now
and then a guard would look over at her, some smiling and some just staring silently. Whether they were making sure
that she wasnt going to slit their throats or found her pleasing to the eye, Celaena didnt know, but it was flattering
either way.

She would have to make sure that she didnt regain too much weight.

When the prince retired to his enormous white tent, Chaol ordered five guards to stand watch and told Celaena to get
some rest as well. Her tent, while nowhere as large or well-equipped as Prince Dorians, was comfortable and
spacious; and within minutes, despite her sore, stiff body, Celaena Sardothien was asleep on her cot.
 O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Over the next two weeks, Celaena barely spoke to Prince Dorian. Sometimes he would drop back and ride beside
Chaol for a while, but for the most part, he stayed up front with Duke Perringtonn and acted as if Celaena was not
even there.

But she didnt mind. Celaena had forgotten how beautiful Adarlan was, Little Folk or no. Along the way, they crossed
through golden groves, lush valleys, and sparkling riversautumn was always Celaenas favorite time of the year.

She cherished every moment spent in the sun, and she soon noticed that her color had begun to reappear. Her
stomach also began to expand, and she was now capable of eating reasonably larger portions. Celaena was pleased to
see that her rib cage did not stick out so much and that her cheeks were regaining some of their fullness. Her eyes
were pretty much back to normal, and while her breasts were still small, the assassin assured herself that they would
return. She felt healthier, looked healthier, and in general, Celaena was as content as she had been in the years
before she had gone to the mines. She loved to travel, especially travel well, and while they avoided staying near
towns or venturing into them save for the occasional restocking of supplies, Celaena enjoyed sleeping outside.

She was still a bit dazed from her good fortune, and often worried about the possibility of failing, but each time she
did, she would straighten her back, toss her hair, and remind herself that she, Adarlans assassin, could never be
outdone by someone else.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was nearing noon when they reached the capital at the end of their two-week journey.

Renaril was a large and beautiful city. With massive white stone walls encompassing the city, it was almost as
impressive outside as it was from within. Street traffic was controlled and orderly for a city of its magnitude and
importance. The castle lay at the far edge of the city, its grounds bordering on the Venar River, an estuary that led
out to the ocean.

But its most striking feature was the glass. The king had decided that extending the stone castle was necessary for a
world-conqueror, so, before Celaena had been born, the king had drawn to him all of the greatest glass blowers and
architects that Adarlan had to offer, and had dipped deep into his treasury to fund the glass edition on top of the
foundation, so large and high that it was five times the size of the original building. Gleaming white turrets shone in
the afternoon sun like spikes of pearl and silver, crystal bridges and balconies stretching across the building,
overlooking the red and gold banners caught high in the wind. It was so gargantuan that Celaena could see the
shimmering building from two miles outside of the city, and as they walked through the streets, her eyes grew wide
as she relived the awe she had felt the first time she had laid her gaze upon it.

The center of the city itself was as clean as a city could getneat little shops lined the cobblestone streets and
alleyways, and there was hardly any trash or mud on the groundin the nice parts, at least. The slums, kept to the
southern side of the city, were moderately clean, apparently ever since she had been captured. Chaol seemed to take
great lengths to explain to her how many criminals had given up their horrible lives and begun contributing to society,
beginning with cleaning up much of what once Celaenas dark domain.

She had loved Renarils slums, as well as its nice parts, loved the cover they provided for her, the residential
opportunities that arose (she had had a lovely apartment on the third floor of a partially run-down building), and it
saddened her as well as pleased her a bit to know that without her, things had gone severely downhill. Thankfully, the
cultural opportunities remained the same.

Renaril was a few miles away from the ocean, and the River Venar, beside which Renaril was built, allowed for
merchant ships to bring their goods and merchandise inland without the cost of extra transportation and preservation
fees. As a seaport and capital of the most powerful country in the world, Renaril was a thriving metropolis that
possessed the cutting-edge in technology, the latest fashion and art, new foods, and it was always the center of
Adarlans political world.

But, like many things, Renaril had a darker and more dangerous side. For Celaena, business here had always been
good. She could name a few politicians that were probably still around who had hired her to do a dirty deed or two,
plus a few court ladies and men who had required her services to destroy fellow court members. It was here that she
had been caught two years ago while trying to destroy a high-ranking officer in the army. Perhaps the whole job had
been a trap, or maybe someone had recognized her, which was very rare for few people actually knew the face behind
the name.
Yet as politicians are often so quick to destroy one another, so are competing assassins. Every working assassin in
Adarlan knew that Celaena got the best hires and the best money, so why wouldnt a fellow assassin have given her
away? She only knew a few lowlifes who actually would have had the connections to betray her, but for the most part,
she couldnt believe that they would have plotted against her in order to boost themselves up in the criminal hierarchy
ladder. Still, shed have to be careful while she was here.

Celaena absorbed all of the noise and the smells, grinning as they passed streets filled with court ladies and their
attendants, strolling in and out of shops with no real purpose, her mouth watering as they went through the market
district, and her heart aching as they passed theaters and libraries by the dozen.

Prince Dorian DeHavilliard was greeted by smiles and waving by the people in the streets, and Celaena was quick to
notice how young girls seemed to flock from out of nowhere to catch a glimpse at their pretty-faced prince. They
blushed and giggled and called out to him, and hed grin and wave, giving them as much notice as he did to the old
women who nodded their heads and bowed in recognition. The assassin didnt bother to wave, and instead kept her
eyes on the streets ahead of them, checking to see what was still there and what wasnt, what had replaced
something, and how people were still making their way around town.

They made their way to the east side of the city, where the palace lay, everyone, save for the assassin, smiling and
waving, until they finally reached the palace. Celaena leaned her head back to look at the whole thing, her eyes
squinting against the glare of the glass. There was a large ironwork fence around the courtyard that stretched twenty
feet into the air, and massive gold-plated gates with the crimson and gold emblem of Adarlan displayed prominently
at the center of each door.

It was really an overwhelming building. With over five hundred rooms, military and servants quarters, three gardens,
a game park, and two different stables on either side of the palace, it was almost another city.

Celaena looked at the castle, peering inside, her eyes watering from the sun. People actually lived, worked, and did
every royal function in these glass chambers, never fearing that it would break from beneath them. Adarlan was
renowned for its glassware, and building a new castle of glass upon the original palace was just a way of proving it to
the world.

For all her years of working in Renaril, she had never been within in the palace. She had never dared. And now,
before the awe-inspiring structure, her nerves began to fray as she thought of living beneath the same roof with the
man who had ruined her live over and over again. Granted, it could also have been due to the fact that living in a
palace made three-quarters of glass still didnt sound like a smart idea, and she fervently hoped for a stone room.

The guards at the gates bowed and saluted their prince, and allowed for them to pass through, taking no notice of
Celaena whatsoever.

When they dismounted, stable boys came to take their horses; and valets appeared as if from nowhere to take their
saddlebags to their chambers. The guards who had traveled with them bid Prince Dorian farewell and, smiling wryly at
Celaena, left to retire to their own quarters.

After two weeks of riding, Celaenas legs had finally gotten used to the feeling of a horse beneath her, so now she
wasnt nearly as sore as she had been when they had first left the mines. Her skin had slightly tanned, she had gained
weight, and her hair had lightened (which is what two weeks in the sun will do to you), and all in all, she hadnt felt
this healthy in years.

Welcome to my castle, Celaena Sardothien, the prince said, smiling at her briefly before he turned to wave at the
nobles who were strolling along in their finery. Tomorrow your training begins. Lord Chaol will show you to your
chambers where you will find your own set of servants awaiting your command. This afternoon you will be visited by
our finest tailor, who will get your measurements so that proper attire can be made for you. After you meet with the
tailor, Lord Chaol will give you a tour of the castle and its grounds. You will take your meals in your rooms and should
you need anything, your servants will attend you.

The prince kept on smiling and waving and barely looked at her as he stood beside her. Now, by your leave, I have a
pressing matter to bring up with my father and Duke Perringtonn. With that, Prince Dorian patted her on the
shoulder and strode off towards the palace, his red cape blowing in the wind behind him.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Her chambers, thankfully in the stone castle, were much bigger than Celaena Sardothien had expected them to be.
She had a bedroom, a sitting room, a balcony, her own private bathing pool, a music/game room, and a dressing
room. It was a bit much for her, but she was happier in a place like this than in the hell-mines of Endovier. Her
bedroom and balcony overlooked one of the three gardens, and whichever one it was, it was beautiful and well kept.
There was a tree nearby that had the most lush, beautiful purple leaves she had ever seen, and its branches and
trunk were of a silvery color that seemed to shimmer in the daylight.

Lord Chaol had insisted that she rest before the tailor arrived, and so she slept for an hour or so before a servant
came in to announce the tailors arrival. Her bed was so large and comfortable that three people could have slept in it
without even noticing each others presence. Celaena, upon being awoken by the female servant, felt a bit of anxiety.
She didnt know whether or not she enjoyed, or could endure, having servants and guards around her at all times, but
she knew that she was in no position to be complaining.

She spent an hour and a half being measured, pinned, and examined before the man left, telling her that her first
shipment of clothing would arrive within five days. Until then, shed have to wear the clothes that she had been given
in Endovier, which werent bad at all, just as long as her servants washed them for her. She had taken pains to
remind the man that she was in the process of gaining weight, and had begged him to give her clothes that were a bit
larger than she. He, of course, had listened to none of it, and had told her that she was large enough, a comment that
made her blood simmer and steam with rage.

Celaena Sardothien was given a bath before Lord Chaol arrived, and this time, thankfully, real, gentle women had
washed her, taking care with her back. The scars, according to them, were almost gone, and the most recent cuts
would be gone within days. While one or two might remain as fine, white lines, her back, for the most part, would be
healed and whole once again. They were nice women and treated her with respect (though they were a bit wary), and
Celaena allowed both her mind and body to relax slightly as they pampered her.

As the prince had said, the rest of the afternoon was spent touring the castle, which was so large that it took more
than three hours to see most of it. They passed through all three gardens, as well as empty ballrooms and libraries,
and though he had not allowed her to see the chamber in which the Queen of Adarlan was now holding court, from
the sound outside the closed glass doors, Celaena could tell that it was filled with chittering courtiers. Impressive as
the glass was, from the inside, there was little difference between the stone castle and the extension. The floors were
all marble, the inner rooms made of either stone or plaster, and while large sections of the walls might be crafted of
fogged glass, the only real things that reminded you which part of the castle you were in was the height and the thick,
painted glass doors (none of which you could see through unless the room was supposed to be for exhibition).
According to Chaol, the bathing chambers also were made of glassfrom the bathtubs to the sinks and toilets. There
were a few architectural features tossed in here and there (a few glass staircases and pillars), but it really was a bit of
a disappointment.

Lord Chaol escorted her back to her room and then left her, warning her once again that guards were posted outside
her room and below her balcony at all hours. If she wanted or needed anything, one of her servants would have to get
it for her. This cast a shadow over her idea of luxury and ease, but the assassin quickly pushed it aside.

After eating dinner alone, Celaena didnt know what to do with herself for the rest of the evening. The prospect that
she was by herself didnt bother hershe had been her own companion for longer than she could remember. What
bothered her was that she had nothing to amuse herself with.

Was there a library around here? Celaena couldnt find any books in her rooms. She didnt know how to play any
instruments and the servants looked as if they didnt want to play any games; so using the music and gaming room
was out of the question. She had already taken a bath, and she realized with growing boredom and dread that she
really had nothing to do until she fell asleep.

When Celaena asked the nicest looking servant if she could possibly find her a book or two to read, the woman gave
her a strange, questioning look, but then nodded and headed out of the room. When she came back fifteen minutes
later with a stack of books piled in her arms, Celaena laughed aloud.

Prince Dorian sends these with love, Miss Sardothien, said the servant, panting from exhaustion. I ran into him
while looking for a book and explained to him the situation. He took me into his personal library and gave me these.
He told me to tell you that you are free to read as many books as you like while you are here, but hed like you to
read these first so that he can discuss them with you as soon as you are finished with them.

Celaena laughed again and took the books from the womans arms, thanking her and telling her to give Prince Dorian
her thanks. She didnt know that he could actually support his cultured voice with cultured intelligence!
Going into her bedroom, Celaena shut the door behind her with a backwards kick of her foot, and dropped down on
the massive bed, scattering the books across the red comforter to have a closer look. It was bizarre that the prince,
after ignoring her for the majority of their journey, would do a thing like this; but nonetheless, Celaena was pleased.

Her eyes skimmed across the titles and authors. However arrogant and spoiled the Crown Prince might be, he
certainly had good taste in books. Choosing the one that looked the most interesting, Celaena curled up on her bed
and began to read.

CHAPTER 6

Seated on his glass throne, the King of Adarlan stared down at his son with eyes of cold iron. His son bore no
resemblance to him, physical or mental; and in the past few years, it had become a constant source of frustration to
him that his wife had been incapable of bearing another child after Dorians birth. He had loved his wife in those days,
and had been unwilling, despite her urging and his foul nature, to take another into his bed to ensure the continuation
of the DeHavilliard rule. But now, past his prime, the man sorely regretted his love-blinded decisionhe was stuck
with a son who, though obedient and respectful, had no link or common ground with his father save the blood that ran
through his veins.

The King of Adarlan was worried. Worried what kind of king his son would be, and how his son would rule the empire
that his father had created. He knew that his son had yet to comprehend the ruthlessness with which you needed to
run a country of such magnitudeDorian DeHavilliard didnt have the heart to be a conqueror. Which was why, in the
past three years, the King had been fervently trying to finish his grand conquest of the majority of their surrounding
countries. He now had five countries under his thumband soon, very soon, Wendlyn and its allies would fall.

He began plotting his conquest twenty-three years agowhen his wife was just barely with childand since then, no
power had arisen to stop his armies. After growing up in the shadow of a pre-industrial era, the king realized the
economic potential for all the lands of the world. He introduced to Adarlan new farming and cultivating methodsand
the country benefited from them.

Soon, however, the borders of Adarlan and the skill and expense at which its goods were produced began to choke
the country. He had tried to convince the other countries to upgrade to a more successful, reliable, and powerful
economic system, but after they had insisted that the old ways were best, and Adarlans technological advances
began to turn into its downfall, the king had decided that the only way to save his countrys dying economy and raise
the bar for production everywhere was to take the lands for his own and force them to change.

Fifteen years ago, he turned his vision into a reality. The first county he acquired was Trasien, by means of
inheritance. True, there had been a few others before him in line to the throne, but all that had been required to gain
it was a simple process of elimination. Trasien had been a bountiful and powerful country, and it had been a good step
to take in achieving his ultimate goal. Its borders, economy, and armies merged with his own, and after seven years,
he had enough resources to march into Eyputiusunn and take control. Their resistance had been futilethey lacked
the forces and advanced weaponry to give a proper fight back.

After securing Eyputiusunn, he had swept with his armies through the other surrounding countries. One by one they
fell. There had been some resistance, but within ten years, Adarlan had grown to encompass the entire continent.

From time to time rebellion broke out, but it was nothing that his legions couldnt handle. To keep the disgraced
leaders happy, the King of Adarlan established a council, for which they would be diplomats to voice the concerns of
their own lands. He let them have their old titles, but erased all of the power and influence that they had once held.
Killing them would have been easier, and some of the more unwilling leaders had been eliminated, but out of fear of
rebellion, the king had stayed his hand and allowed most of them to live. In hindsight, the king was pleased by his
decision to keep the majority of leaders aliveit had helped him greatly in controlling the millions of people he now
had under his power.

However, with only perhaps ten to fifteen years left in his life, the king was scrambling to gain control over their
overseas neighbors, who were so ardently protesting their inevitable reformation. He would secure Wendlyn and its
surrounding countries and break them to his will. Once conquered, his son would be free to rule all of the territory his
father had acquired, and he hoped that his sons lack of ruthlessness would not be an issue. But then again, no great
force would dare to come up against Adarlans power.

His son shifted impatiently on his feet, waiting for his father to speak to him. He seemed anxious, which wasnt
surprising. The King of Adarlan hadnt been too happy to free Celaena Sardothien from her prison. She was a menace,
a threat to his power. She had killed off some of his chief supporters. Politicians wielded her skills like a double-edged
sword.

She owed allegiance to no one save herself, and hadnt balked from destroying some of her former benefactors. She
was a creature dragged up from the bowels of the Underworld. He had almost killed her twice now (her near execution
two years ago, and then the death that had been so close by in the mines); and yet, by some twist of fate, she had
managed to rise from the dead to become even more of a malevolent beast. However, if she proved to be capable and
trustworthy of eliminating the King and heir of Wendlyn, he was willing to consider letting her live at least for a little
longer.

So, the king said in a booming voice. Shes arrived?

His son nodded, his sapphire eyes gleaming. She doesnt appear to be much of a threat, father. Shes almostcivil.

The king narrowed his eyes. Was his son that easily deceived? Handing over the throne would be a difficult thing. A
wolf can easily wear a sheeps clothing.

I know that, his son said hastily, wiping his ebony hair out of his eyes. She seems fully capable of doing the job. I
dont know why you need to have all of these other womenSardothien is the only one with assassinating experience.
Its so unnecessarily to make twenty other women into assassins just like her! If youre worried about the threat that
Sardothien poses, imagine what twenty of her type will do! All that we need to do is to find a way to ensure that she

Dont doubt my motives, boy, he snapped. Dorian seemed to be slipping further and further away from the
obedient, quiet boy he had once been.

His son colored and lowered his head, mumbling his apologies.

If she proves to be more effective than the women we have here, the king said, his voice like granite, then well
use her.

The King of Adarlan looked down at his heirs pretty face, and a spark of worry and repulsion formed in his mind.

Though she may look pleasant, he warned, she is still a monster. You are not to be involved in her in any way,
understood? Keep your distance. The king noticed the look of surprise and shock on his sons face. Dont look at me
like that, boy. I know that you waste your time courting and bedding as many ladies as you can without getting in
trouble. Sardothien isnt a lady, and she isnt someone you want to be associated with. Dont even give her a second
glance.

His son snorted. The king felt a tremor of anger rise up within him. Im serious, boy! If I find that youve been
associating yourself with her, the consequences will not be pleasant for either of you.

Dorian suddenly looked at him with startling clarity and anger. And what would you do, father? he said sharply,
raising his eyebrows. Throw me into the mines as well?

The king rose from his glass throne, anger and fear welling in his breast, and crossed to where his son was standing
unflinchingly. Without a word, he hit him across the face with the back of his hand. Dorian staggered, but regained his
countenance before he could fall, a red mark already appearing on his smooth cheek.

Son or no son, he snarled at the youth, I am still your king. You will obey, Dorian DeHavilliard, or you will pay.

Perhaps Sardothien was already poisoning his sons mindperhaps this rebellious behavior was due to the woman
who had been a thorn in his side for more years than anyone actually realized.

He should have her killed immediatelydestroy her and end all of the threats that she posed to his grasp over the
world

Dorian DeHavilliard, not giving the king the satisfaction of seeing him wince at the throbbing pain in his cheek, bowed
briskly and turned from his father, eyes gleaming with barely-controlled malice.
The King of Adarlan, sighing at the weight of his many burdens, took a seat once more on his glass throne, pondering
the danger he had just unleashed in his realm.

CHAPTER 7

Chaol awoke Celaena earlier than she would have liked to arisen.

Irritated, she didnt even bother to get dressed, and instead sat herself down at her small dining table, awaiting her
morning meal with a scowl on her face. Its hard to eat breakfast when you are yawning in between bites, especially
so when an imposing man in black is standing over you with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, urging you
to eat faster with snarls of impatience. She had regained much of her appetite, as well as put on a good deal of
weight, and the assassin took pleasure in explaining to the Captain of the Guard that her extreme slowness was due
to her underfed, malnourished stomach. When he told her that two weeks was plenty to recover from the brink of
starvation, she told him that the greenish-yellow color of vomit would go nicely with his leather boots. So she took her
time, eating slowly, her eyes half-closed from exhaustion, the only sounds being her utensils scraping against dishes
and occasional grunts of pleasure.

When Chaol finally asked her what the cause of her exhaustion was, Celaena told him that her brain had been so
overjoyed to be back in the written world once again that she managed to nearly finish the book she had started
before collapsing into a deep sleep. Reading late into the night was always a bad habit of hers.

As soon as she had eaten as much as she could, Celaena smiled innocently at Lord Chaol, and called to her servants
to dress her.

You wont be needing a dress or any of those riding outfits today. You need something that you can move and sweat
in. Stay in those shorts and undershirt.

Is it proper for a lady such as myself to be wearing such attire around the castle? Celaena batted her eyelashes at
Chaol.

Lord Chaol snorted. You and I both know that you, Sardothien, are no lady. It makes no difference if you walk
around naked or in a dress fit for a queen, youre still an assassin. Lord Chaol looked at her with raised brows and
then lowered them. The clothes that you are wearing right now will do perfectly for what I have planned.

Celaena looked down at her white underclothes and then looked at him, her mouth open in shock. You really intend
for me to wear my undergarments around the castle?

Thats going a bit too far!

Why not? Why get your fine clothes soiled by your sweat when you can just change your underclothes afterwards?
This man clearly didnt know anything about women.

After what? What activity could possibly require me to wear and soil my underclothes? If youre thinking that I might
have had another profession besides that of an assassin, youre sorely mistaken, Lord Chaol. I am not-

Did I even imply that you were? he growled. You have a sick mind, Sardothien, if you think that I would possibly...
He shook his head in disgust, and she stiffened.

But Im pretty!

Well, to my standards at least, and it seems that many others consider me to be so as well!

Chaol rolled his eyes. I told you last night that your training began today. Since you have been slaving for the past
two years in horrible conditions, the prince decided that it would be better to give you a bit of time to catch up before
the other maidens arrive five days from now. And dont begin to tell me about that horrible fighting of yoursthat
doesnt count.

Why?

Because you werent using weapons.

Good assassins dont need weapons to be able to kill. Her eyes glittered.

Chaol stared at her for a moment, strummed the pommel of his sword, and then tossed her a pair of silk, flat-
bottomed ladies slippers. Wear these. Well be working indoors; your feet wont need much protection. One of
Celaenas servants appeared with clothes in hand. Chaol frowned.

Maybe letting you prance around in your undergarments is a bad idea.

Celaena snorted. I told you that already.

The Captain of the Guard asked the woman to bring a pair of pants and a blousesomething light and not confining or
revealing, as well as a cloak.

Celaena tapped her bare foot, her hands on her hips, and shook her hair in a glamorous flick of the head.

Chaol took a seat at the now cleared breakfast table and stared at her. What a lovely trick. Is that part of your
assassinating gimmick?

She batted her eyelashes, simpering. Sometimes.

His green eyes flashed. And then what comes next? Do you take off your shirt or do you just go straight for the knife
in the heart?

Celaena removed a hand from her hip, letting it rest limply at her side. She flicked her wrist upwards, once, twice,
grabbing the phantom dagger from where it would have been concealed in her clothes, and a lazy, arrogant smile
spread across her face.

Wouldnt you like to know

Save it for the King of Wendlyn.

She strolled around the room, her arms crossed behind her back, watching the young man. He couldnt have been
more than twenty-five. What was he doing as Captain of the Guard? She ran an assassins eye over him, just as she
had done throughout their journey to Renaril.

He was tall, much taller than she was, with broad shoulders and a broad chest. His body was proportionally average;
not too muscular, but his black clothes did reveal the fit form beneath. His chin-length brown hair was cut nicely,
revealing a bit of pampering beneath that rough exterior, and his face was clean-shaven. His brow was clear, and his
dark brown eyebrows arched nicely over his forest-green eyes. He was handsome, but not overtly somore in a kind
of self-assured rugged way. His scarred hands showed revealed that more than his haircut, which

Youre running a womans eye over him, you fool.

Celaena opened her mouth to speak, but the servant returned, asking Celaena if shed like help with dressing. With a
sour look on her face, Celaena said no, and began to pull on her pants. They wouldnt fit over her under-shorts.
Celaena glanced down at her legs, at the wrinkled mess that jutted out beneath the tight brown material, and snarled.
She looked ridiculous.

She pulled her white tunic over her head, tying the two golden strings in the back twice around her chest before
wrapping them into a neat bow beneath her shoulder blades, and turned to Chaol.

The pants look absurd.

The Captain of the Guard laughed. You can take them off when we get to the Hall of Weaponsjust wear your cloak
over it for now.

Celaena hissed and grabbed her marvelous cloak from where the servant had put it on the chair, throwing it over her
shoulders and pulling it tight around her. She looked down, smiling as she saw that the front opening concealed the
mess of material beneath.
Chaol grunted and strode to the door, exiting the room.

Frowning, Celaena hurriedly placed the lavender-colored shoes on her feet, hopping, before she left the room and bid
her servants farewell, following after Lord Chaol with an even darker mood. She didnt even know the names of her
attendantsthey had told her the first time they met, but she had forgotten seconds later.

As she jogged down the hall to catch up with the young captain, she might as well have been wearing her
undergarmentseven with her cloak, there was not much protection from the early morning chill.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Lord Chaol led Celaena through the castle with surprising speed. Despite the early hour, there were several people
and servants wandering the hallways, that, to Celaenas embarrassment, Chaol did not avoid. Her bunched
undergarments crinkled and chafed against her thighs, riding up in the crotch so badly that the assassin had to subtly
pull them down several times. The cloak, it turned out, did not hide the state of her pants, and it flew behind her as
they hurried through the castle.

He took no notice of the raised eyebrows and shocked faces that appeared when eyes fell upon Celaenas waddling-
gait; and if he did, he did nothing to improve or worsen the situation. It was even more embarrassing than if she had
had to wear only her undergarments.

By the time they finally stopped, Celaena was sure she had ruined any chance she had at having a good reputation
with most of the nobles in the castlethe few court ladies that they had seen had covered their mouths and looked in
the other direction when they passed, and fierce whispering and giggling soon followed. It only took one of them for
gossip to spread like wildfireand the story of the absurdly clad girl and Lord Chaol was quickly picked up as the
morning went on.

The room that Chaol entered was massive: it was almost the size of the Grand Ballroom that Celaena had seen the
previous day. It was rectangular; lined with massive marble pillars that supported a second-level balcony that was
probably used to observe those down below, but Celaena could not see what other purposes it had from her position
on the ground. The floor was checkered with black and white tiling; and to Celaenas left, there were open, floor-to-
ceiling glass-paned doors (that led out into some garden or other) with elegant gossamer curtains blowing gently in
the cool, early-morning breeze. Across from Celaena was a wall, which would have looked lovely (it had a wonderful
tapestry on it) were it not for the rack of assorted weapons that lay against it.

Celaena groaned. She was expected to fight and sweat at this hour? After two weeks of riding, was she supposed to
play with swords and spears only an hour or so after sunrise? It had been almost three years since she had used most
of those weapons!

This is one of the rare occasions on which you will be allowed to hold or go near anything sharp or dangerous, Chaol
said with a smirk. When you practice with the other women, your weapons will be dulled to the point where even
you, Adarlans greatest assassin or whatever they like to call you, will be unable to make anything bleed. But,
unfortunately, those blades are coming with the ladies, so youll have to make do with the real thing for now.

Celaena smiled as she looked at the weapons. Swords, axes, bows, pikes, hunting daggers, maces, spears, throwing
knives, machetes, sword breakers, wooden stavesthe list went on and on. At least once during her career as an
assassin had she used each of these weapons to kill.

Take your pick, he said roughly. Lord Chaol drew his broadsword and pointed at the rack.

Still grinning, Celaena walked over to the weapons and examined them. She eliminated her choices one by one,
running her fingers across the blades and handles of each, until it was down to the hunting daggers and a lovely
rapier with an ornate bell-guard. Her heart was pounding wildly with excitement as she withheld the weaponsthey
were finely made, and glistened in the sunlight. She felt like a child at Yulemas.

Knives had always been her favorite to use, especially hunting daggers, but in close combat, Celaena always preferred
a long blade. You didnt have to get too near to a person to make a kill when you used that kind of a weapon. Plus,
cutting out someones heart always took less time with a blade like the one she was considering.

Deciding on the slender sword, she drew it from the stand, and examined it in her hands. It was excellently crafted
and light as a feather, yet Celaena had the feeling it was as strong as steel. She grinned at her choice, basking at the
prospect of an elegant weapon in her hand again, and removed her cloak, tossing it to the floor beside her. She also
removed her pants, tossing them into a ball and hurling them far from her, and she readjusted her mid-thigh under-
shorts before grinning wickedly at her opponent.

Judging by the time that it took for you to choose your weapon, Im guessing that you can use at least five of the
ones against that wall. Impressive. You must be better than I give you credit for.

Lord Chaol raised his sword, throwing his cape on top of hers, his toned body flexing through the dark threads of his
shirt. But Ill only be able to decide that for sure once you prove your skill with the rapier. On guard, Sardothien! he
challenged her and moved into defensive position.

Celaena looked at him dully, still aggravated that she was being forced to move at such an hour. Arent you first
going to show me the basic moves? she jeered. Embarrassing and annoying him seemed much more interesting and
fun than clashing swords with this bellicose youth.

Dont play stupid with me, Sardothien, he snarled. I know you know how to use that sword, Lord Chaol stayed in
his position.

Celaena looked down at the blade in her hands with raised eyebrows. I dont know, Lord Chaol, she pressed him. I
mean, Ive been in those salt mines for two and a half years, you know. I could have easily forgotten.

His green eyes flashed as he said dryly: From the amount of killing that went on down in your section of the mines, I
highly doubt that youve forgotten a thing.

Celaena stuck out her lower lip in a faux-pout. But, Lord Chaol, that was with a pickax! she whined, her eyes
reflecting the same malice that shone in his. All I had to do was crack a mans head open or hurl it in his stomach! If
you consider that kind of graceless, savage murder to be equal to the art of fencing, Im highly surprised that youre a
soldier! What kind of fencing do you do, Lord Chaol? Has Adarlan changed that much in two years? What a pity! What
a disgrace! How shameful! She put a hand over her heart and closed her eyes in false sorrow.

With a growl, Lord Chaol lunged at her, switching from defensive to offensive in milliseconds. But Celaena had been
waiting. Her eyes flew open as soon as his feet moved; and with a turn of her arm she brought her sword into a
blocking position, their blades crashing loudly against each other. Again he charged, and Celaena met his weapon with
her own, parrying with lightning-fast speed. Even though it had been over two years, Celaenas body had not
forgotten the moves taught to her in her youth. Fencing was like dancingcertain steps had to be followed by others
in order for it to work. It was hard to get back into at first, but once you felt the beat, it all came rushing back.

His blade flew through the air towards her chest, but Celaena deflected it with a flick of her wrist and then counter-
riposted, beating back his blade.

Good, Lord Chaol said through his teeth, blocking her thrust, very good, Sardothien.

Id have to say the same about you, Lord Chaol, Celaena spat back, beginning to sweat. With a clang, the two
swords met, each opponent pressing the others blade. He was startlingly strong and it was all that Celaena could do
to hold her rapier against his. He withdrew and feinted, catching Celaena off-guard so that she only had time to
prepare to deflect without a parry in reply.

This went on for several minutes, and neither of them noticed that several people had come to watch the bout, either
looking on from the balcony or watching from the doorways of the glass doors.

Something to remember while fighting me, Sardothien, Chaol said, panting. His emerald eyes reflected the mid-
morning sunlight, looking quite brilliant and dazzling.

Whats that? Celaena grunted as she lunged again to remise his newest attack.

I play dirty. Chaol grinned at her and before Celaena could comprehend his words, she felt something trip her feet
and WHAM!

Celaena landed on her back, her rapier flying from her hand upon impact. Chaol swept his blade through the air and
pointed it at her chest. I win, he said between breaths.
Celaena pushed herself up onto her elbows and growled as she panted. You cheated. Thats hardly winning at all.

At least Im not the one with the sword at my heart.

You arrogant, awful, AWFUL young man!

The match over, the small crowd departed, but several soldiers and young nobles moved in with their own weapons to
begin their own bouts. The sound of weapons crashing filled the air.

I honestly didnt expect you to last so long, Sardothien, he said over the rising clash of many weapons, shaking his
brown hair out of his eyes. Youre much better off than I thought youd be. You know the basic skills, but some of
your moves are still undisciplined.

Im sure that you know a great deal more than me! You had to cheat to beat me!

Thats never stopped me from killing before, she hissed, getting to her feet. The bastard had cheated! This was why
she had taken so much pleasure in slaughtering nobles for pay. They were all cheating, stuck-up, spoiled, pompous
sewer rats not worth the dirt on her feet. They destroyed countries and peoples lives for fun. They deserved what she
had given them.

Lord Chaol Wydrael, chuckling at her agitation, pointed his weapon at the rack once again. Take your pick, this time
something different. Make it interesting too. Give me something that will make me sweat, Sardothien.

Celaena could have skewered his eyes with the rapier that she picked up from the floor, but she instead placed it back
in its place and selected two hunting knives. A wicked smile spread across her face.

Screw dancing. This was war.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Four hours and twelve different weapons later, Celaena was ready to collapse. In an effort to humiliate Chaol, she had
gone through every weapon on the rack and then had gone back to the rapier that she had first used. While she had
gotten in a few good blows and made him look a fool once or twice, Celaena still could not beat him. She had thrown
courtesy into the wind and had attacked him with every dirty trick she knew: tripping, kicking, scratching, hair-
pulling, etc. None of it worked. When Celaena had stuck out a foot to trip him, he had known it was there and stepped
in the other direction. When she had grabbed onto his hair, he had grabbed onto her braid and pulled it until she
howled and begged to be let go.

To get straight to the point, her morning had been wonderfully fun.

It had never occurred to her that someone might actually be better than her at fightingshe had eventually
surpassed even her teachersbut she found it to be surprisingly pleasant to discover that she would have to work in
order to win.

It was nearing lunchtime when they finished, and to say that Celaena was hungry would be a severe understatement.
Since she was still confined to her rooms for meals, Celaena expected to eat her lunch alone, but halfway through she
was pleased to find that Lord Chaol had decided to join her, sitting down across from her at the small table the maids
had set. He had changed his clothes, for he had been just as sweat-coated as Celaena was by the time they had
finished, and from the looks of it, he had also taken a bath.

Celaena had done none of these things. She was still red-faced and sweaty, she probably smelled terrible, and she
was still sitting in her undergarments. Now that she had access to food and a bath whenever she liked, Celaena had
decided to take full advantage of them. But she could always bathe after she had eaten. It didnt matter to her how
dirty she was at the momentshe was too hungry to care.

Lord Chaol seemed to take no notice of her unclean state and asked her how she was enjoying her temporary
freedom. She gave him the honest answer that she was enjoying it immensely, especially now that she had books to
read whenever she was locked in her rooms. This led to a discussion on literature and writing; and, to Celaenas
immense surprise, Chaol loved reading almost as much as she did. He didnt have much time because of his duties as
Captain of the Royal Guard, but when he had time off (which all guards get at some point or other), Lord Chaol read
quite a lot. They had read many of the same books; so naturally, lunch took them almost an hour and a half to finish.
When Chaol left, he told her that the afternoon was hers to spend in any way she likedin her chambers. It was still a
bit irritating to be confined to five rooms on a beautiful day, but after such an exhausting morning and such a large
lunch, a refreshing bath, clean clothes, and reading a book on her balcony sounded like Heaven.

CHAPTER 8

The next five days passed in a similar manner. Every morning she would train with Lord Chaol until lunchor until
Celaena collapsed to the ground and groaned that she was about to die of hunger and fatigue.

Instead of the medley of weapons that Celaena had used the first time they had sparred, Lord Chaol had insisted that
they divide the three or four hours that they spent together into hour-long sessions with each weapon. The knives still
remained her favorite, but Celaena was growing fond of using the fighting sticks. She was the worst with the mace
on several occasions it had flown freely from her hand and chipped one of the marble pillars or knocked over the
weapon rack.

Celaena Sardothien would then pass her afternoons reading in a chair on her balconyand by the end of five days,
Celaena had read four of the seven books that Prince Dorian had lent her.

She saw no sign of the Crown Prince, but this did not bother Celaena in the least. Lord Chaol often took his lunch with
her, and twice did he dine with her for supper. He wasnt as much of a pompous bastard as Celaena had first thought
him to be. He was thoroughly educated and maintained good conversationespecially about books.

Lord Chaol told her about his childhood, his parents, and answered just about every question Celaena asked him.

He was a childhood friend of the prince. The only noble-born children in the palace at the time and nearly the same in
age (he was two years older than Dorian DeHavilliard), they became fast friends at an early age, a friendship that
would continue for almost two more decades.

The son of a local baron, Lord Chaol Wydrael was destined to follow in his fathers footsteps and join the royal council,
confined to stuffy rooms and boring conversation; he was doomed to be separated from his beloved childhood friend.
To escape this dismal future, he joined the royal guard at age sixteen, eight years ago, handing over his power as
future baron to his younger brother, Paonian. After six years of dedicated work, Lord Chaol was appointed Captain of
the Royal Guard. He was the youngest captain in Adarlans history, but he did his job, proving the kings criticized
appointment to be a wise one indeed. No one had ever committed a crime in the castle that did not go unsolved, and
Chaols complex network of spies and allies made his reign as captain the most successful in a hundred years.

Since his appointment as protectorate of the Royal Family, he had never been separated from his friendthough on
several occasions that Chaol did not want to talk about, their friendship was nearly torn apart by personal and political
drama. It turned out that he was not nearly was traditionalist as his friend, and when Adarlans policies towards
several cultural debates had become finalized in harsh terms, it had been the Captain of the Guard, not the Crown
Prince, who had objected.

When asked about her own past, Celaena had smiled at Chaol and told him that it was not nearly as sweet or
interesting as his was and that it wasnt worth telling.

In truth, Celaena wasnt proud or comfortable when talking about her past, and she could only name three people
(two of whom were dead) that knew the whole story. Thankfully, Lord Chaol had taken that as a satisfactory answer
and had not pressed where he was not wanted.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

On the sixth morning, Chaol did not awake Celaena Sardothien. Instead, she slept until nearly lunchtime, enjoying the
much-needed sleep. Celaena had started to truly enjoy wandering around in her undergarments, and now didnt even
bother to cover up while standing on her balcony.

It was a beautiful day once again. The temperature was warm and it could have passed for spring, were it not for the
golden trees of the game park that lingered in the distance. Her room was only two stories up, so Celaena could often
hear conversations going on below. Very often they were abnormally dull and light; however, today a very intriguing
one was going on beneath the shade of her terrace.
A dark-haired lady in an ornate red dress stood below with two other womenboth blondes. They all seemed slightly
uneasy and out of place, looking around constantly as if they were unsure about their location. Were they three of the
nineteen other women that were due to arrive today? From their conversation, it sounded like it.

Leaning over the edge, keeping her gaze on the garden before her, Celaena began to casually eavesdrop on the
conversation.

I havent seen any real competition so far, you know, the raven-haired woman was drawling. Her voice was cultured
and coldshe was probably rich and of noble blood. I saw five women all from Mecherta, you know, that wretched
country of farmers! Its practically in the Wastes of the West! And all of them looked as if they could have been
servants working hereor even worsethe slaves in the salt mines of Endovier!

The three women giggled stupidly.

Celaena scowled. Lord Chaol had ordered her not to tell them her real name or what she did for a living. She was to
give herself a name and occupation, plus a history behind it. However, at that moment, Celaena Sardothien would
have very much liked to have jumped straight into the conversation and comment on the conditions of Endovier and
those who were assigned to work there, but the prospect of freedom held her tongue still.

There was another woman that I saw getting out of a carriage with an extraordinary amount lot of luggage. She had
red hair that was so frizzy and large, it could have passed for a shabby carpet! The woman laughed again, and her
two blonde friends sniggered behind their hands.

Anyway, I heard that the prince himself selected one of the womenand you know what Prince Dorian is like. Hes
well-known with the ladies of the royal court, if you catch my drift! Hes bound to have selected the prettiest woman
he could find. So, shes the only one Im really worried about, no offense to either of you. Hopefully shell be
eliminated within the first week. I suspect that the princes whore will not be looked upon with-

CRASH

Celaena had innocently knocked over one of the flowerpots on her balcony with her elbow. Unfortunately, it missed
the woman, but landed close enough to splatter soil and mud (for the servants had watered them earlier) all over the
bottom of the womans dress.

Smirking as the ladies screamed and looked around in terror for the source of the rampant flowerpot, the princes
whore walked back into her chambers and called for her servants to dress her in the finest attire they could find.

CHAPTER 9

Her first shipment of clothing had arrived the day before; large wooden crates filled with layers upon layers of rich
fabrics, strands of pearls and jewels, and more shoes than Celaena cared to count.

Within the hour, Celaena was bound, dressed, and painted like any rich court lady; her dress was so tight that she
could hardly breathe. The maids had been delighted when Celaena had ordered them to dress her in her most
impressive dress, which turned out to be quite impressive indeed when she was finally dressed.

A powder green color with fine lace lining around the low-cut neckline, it was a dress that would have cost as much as
a house. The blood-red sash at her waist, according to the servants, brought out the color of the dress and made her
curvy form seem less, well, wide. Now able to eat full meals, a lot of her bones were less visible, and while Celaena
was in no way heavy or in need of controlling the amount of food that went into her mouth, the dresses that the tailor
had shipped to her were a bit small.

I told him to make them larger! I told him five times to make them a size bigger!

But she bore the smallness of the dress well, even if it did make her feel as if she would faint.

Celaena could have done without the sash, but what really drove her crazy was the number of petticoats that lay
beneath the gown. The large skirts of the dress, in Celaenas opinion, made her look like an upside-down green and
red umbrella. Her pale-green shoes were of the same style that she used when training with Chaol, and they were
about the only comfortable thing she had on.
Her hair turned out quite nicely. Placed in pearl netting that draped down to her shoulders with a braided tiara of her
own hair to hold it in place, Celaena found the style quite agreeable. She adored the tiara of hair, which got rid of the
irritating strands that were too short to fit into the netting.

Celaena Sardothien hadnt eaten breakfast or lunch by the time that she was about to leave her roomsand she was
in a foul mood because of it. But then again, how could she possibly eat in this dress? How could any food that went
into her mouth possibly not come up again?

Lord Chaol was suddenly at her door, looking quite out of breath and almost frantic. She had been about to send one
of her servants out for him, but it seemed to Celaena that he had read her mind.

Downstairs. Now, he panted, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her out the door.

What is it? Celaena stumbled, but kept her balance. She smiled sweetly at the guards standing by her door and then
raced down the hallway behind Lord Chaol the best she could.

I forgot to send a guard to fetch you so that you wouldnt be late. Lord Chaol said as they descended a large
staircase that Celaena hadnt seen before. The palace seemed to get bigger by the day!

Late for what? Celaena held her hair in place for fear that it would fall out.

For meeting the other ladies, you fool! Theyre all assembling now in a small dining hall, and one of the etiquette
professionals has come to examine and eliminate ten of the twenty women. Lateness is not a virtue that they hold in
high regard!

They reached the bottom of the staircase and turned right, flying down a long hallway. She couldnt breathe!

Chaol tightened his grip on her arm. When you enter the room, keep your head up, walk straight, and take a seat.
Remember, do not tell the women your real name or occupation. Your name from now on is Lithaen Gordaina, your
father is a rich merchant from Belaegyr, and you are heir to his fortune. Your mother died when you were young,
they were reaching the door at the end of the hallway now, and since your father raised you, he sometimes treated
you like a sonwhich is why you can now handle weapons so well. Got it? Good. He stopped a few feet from the door
and Celaena skidded to a halt.

He gave her a moment to catch her breath and regain her countenance. Her insides were surprisingly shaky. Her
freedom was to be decided as soon as she entered this room. How pretty were these women in comparison to her?

Lord Chaol seemed to read her mind. Dont worry about it, Sardothien, youre ten times prettier than any woman in
that room. With a smile and a bow, Chaol turned from her and walked back down the hall before he could see her
surprised expression.

With a sigh, Celaena turned the gold handle and walked into the chamber.

The smell of several different perfumes was almost suffocating.

Twenty chairs were lined in four rows, all facing a wooden podium. A scattering of women sat in these seats, and in
the front row Celaena recognized the black-haired woman and her two blonde cronies. Wanting to stay as far away
from this woman as possible, Celaena took a seat in the last row. From this seat she could see the competition and
hopefully calm her nerves without being noticed.

Over the next five minutes, more women filled the room, and soon each seat was filled. Beside Celaena sat a small
brunette in a blue dress. She was pretty, but looked rather weak and fragile. It was hard for Celaena to imagine a girl
like this killing anyone.

Celaena would have made small talk with the girl were it not for the woman who then entered the room. She was
large and oldwith a dress that was so pressed and crisp that Celaena thought that the woman could have passed for
a board of wood. Her posture was impeccable and her movements were so graceful that it made her width decrease.
The woman floated to the podium and looked at the twenty women sitting before her.

Welcome, ladies, she said with a smile that displayed her dazzling white teeth. I am Madam Tulrouse, your
professional advisor and educator on the art of court etiquette and beauty.
Celaena wasnt sure if she considered court etiquette an art, but she kept her mouth shut and tried to act interested.

As you all know, she continued in a dramatic voice, our beloved and great king requires one of you pretty, pretty
ladies to go on a special, secret mission for him to the foreign country of Wendlyn. The woman raised her head. To
give our king the least amount of trouble, I am to eliminate ten of you from the competition right now. You are all
beautiful women, but only the most lovely and poised will do.

Every woman sat up straighter.

Elise, Madam Tulrouse called to a scrawny woman standing by the door, will you kindly help those who are not
selected from the room once I have finished making my selections? For those of you who are asked to stay, please
move to the first two rows after I am done.

The woman stepped down from the podium and walked up to the first girl on the end of the row before her. It was the
redheaded woman that Celaena assumed was the one black-haired girl had been insulting earlier. Eyeing her
carefully, Madam Tulrouse shook her head and said to Elise in a gentle voice, No.

Without saying anything else, she moved onto the next girlone of the blondes who Celaena had seen before. No.
Again she moved. It was to the black-haired woman. Celaena began to pray that the woman would say no, but
instead Madam Tulrouse smiled and said: Lovely. Yes. The next three minutes were hell for Celaenashe was the
last in line. Eight had been chosen by the time Tulrouse reached the brunette beside Celaena, and with a loud: No,
the woman moved on.

The woman had scarcely looked at Celaena before she exclaimed Exquisite! and smiled at the assassin, turning to
Elise to say, Yes.

Celaenas heart had been pounding against her chest so hard that she thought it would go flying from her dress and
splatter itself on the woman in front of her.

With a sigh of relief, Celaena put a hand on her heart. She wasnt going back to the minesjust yet. She was one
step closer to freedom. So overwhelmed was she, that Celaena didnt even hear Madam Tulrouse say Thank you,
ladies for coming this farElise will show you out.

There was a shuffling of feet, a rustling of dresses, a few sniffles, and then Celaena found herself alone in the back
row. Frowning at this method of heartless elimination, but not one to complain, she moved to take a seat in the
second row. The girl with red hair had been asked to stay in the end; since there were only eight selected, which
made Celaena smirk. The black haired witch must have been upset that her prediction was wrong.

But where was the last lady? There were only nine in the room at the moment

Now, Id like to have all your names before we go any further. Well begin in the back this time. Tulrouse pointed
her finger at Celaena. Whats your name, my dear?

All of the young women in the room looked in her direction. She could see the layers of makeup they had put on, and
their worried faces made her relax a little more. Celaena raised her head confidently and smiled at the woman.
Lithaen Gordaina, milady, she said as properly as possible.

Tulrouse returned her smile. A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Im pleased to meet you, Lady Lithaen.

Celaena nodded her head in acknowledgement and turned her gaze to the face of the black-haired girl. She was
pretty, but her eyes had the same coldness that her voice held. When Tulrouse moved onto the girl beside her, the
raven-haired beauty did not remove her gaze from Celaena. The assassin tried to ignore her, pretending to look
interested in the introduction at hand.

But then the witch glared at her.

Bitch.

Celaena felt anger boil in her stomach, and she reigned in her temper and desire to lash out and snap the womans
neck in halfwhich she could have done with ease.
Celaena instead smiled innocently at her and returned her stare to Tulrouse. The girl eventually twisted back around
to sit properly in her seat. She might be pretty, but was she any good with a sword? Celaena paid no attention to the
other girls that introduced themselves; that is, until Tulrouse reached that awful young woman.

And who might you be?

Kaltain Rompier, Madam.

Celaena snorted. Her name was just as pompous as her attitude. Unfortunately, her rude noise was not unheard and
the girls beside Celaena looked at her with open-mouthed shock. Celaena responded by giving them a quick, false
smile before she turned her attention back to Madam Tulrouse, who had not heard Celaenas wordless exclamation of
contempt.

Finished getting down their names, the woman returned to her podium and looked at them.

You should be pleased with yourselves to have made it this far! It is not easy to be beautiful, ladies. We must not
allow for our egos to swell, and while we may know that we are lovely and flawless, we must never show it. Modesty
is key when impressing royalty. Take every compliment as if you have never heard it before. Even those given to you
by people of lower status. Ones reputation among the low is almost as important as ones reputation amongst the
high.

Celaena fought to keep a straight face.

What utter nonsense! Do real ladies actually think like this?

You will be meeting with me for three hours every other day to discuss and practice court protocol, and you will meet
with me for four hours every three days to learn to sing, dance, and do all other things that a well-brought up lady
should know how to do. Tulrouse frowned. However, every day for three hours, you will be trained and instructed in
weaponry. I have been informed that most of you are interested in this sort of mannish behavior, and while I may not
approve of this, the king demanded that this is essential in your training to become great ladies.

How much had this woman been told about why they were being trained?

In the next six months, a process of elimination will begin. You will be judged in every class, at every meal, and if
you are not improving or are not adequate enough to meet the standards set before you, you will be asked to leave.
Instruction begins tomorrow at nine oclock precisely. You will not be late and you will dress formally, for a true lady is
under constant scrutiny. It is not proper for women of your beauty to go romping around the palace in mediocre
attire.

Celaena wondered if Tulrouse would faint if she discovered that for the past five days, Celaena had been romping
around the castle in her undergarments.

I wish you all the best of luck. You are dismissed. Tulrouse turned to Elise and the ten girls dispersed. Celaena
wanted to get back to her room as soon as possible, but unfortunately a hand at her elbow stopped her.

It was Kaltain.

Lithaen Gordaina. Ive never heard of you before. What does your father do for a living? The woman peered at her
beneath dark, shaped eyebrows.

Celaena yanked her arm free, and said absently, Hes a merchant. You know, one of the founders of the new seaport
of Belaegyr.

Kaltain nodded knowingly. When were you selected?

Two and a half weeks ago. Celaena began to walk away. She was already getting tired of this conversation and she
did not like Kaltain one bit.
Oh? So recently? I believe that I was one of the first girls chosen, actually. A man named Duke Perringtonn came to
visit me almost a year ago to ask me to visit Renaril for a chance at serving Adarlan. Of course, I was a bit surprised
that-

Kaltain stopped as she saw that Celaena was almost out the door. Rushing forward to catch up to Celaena, she
grabbed onto her, linking arms with the poor assassin.

As I was saying, I was a bit surprised that I would be asked to go to Renaril by a man of such high position. My
mother was the daughter of a noble, you know, and my father is also a merchantperhaps they know each other?
Youll have to give me his name sometime later. Being of such mixed blood, I never expected to be invited to stay at
the palace, let alone go on some secret mission to Wendlyn, but Ive always known that some day I would wind up in
this building! Yet, can you imagine a woman doing a mans job? And what a horrible country Wendlyn is! I hear that
they drink their childrens blood when they run out of milk from their cows!

Celaena snorted as they walked down the hall. Maybe you shouldnt believe everything you hear. Wendlyn is a lush
and prosperous country, which is why our king has been trying to conquer it for these past years. Their naval
technology and skills are far more advanced than ours, which explains why we have been unable to get past their
defenses. Celaena withdrew her arm and turned to the woman. Im sure that such a civilization does not drink blood
alongside their morning toast. Good day, Kaltain.

Celaena walked down the hallway, leaving Kaltain to her own devices. She had every intention of spending the
afternoon in peaceful solitude, but as she turned from the walkway, another hand grabbed her arm. This time it was
Chaol.

How was it? He asked, offering his arm. Since there were ladies lingering in the hallway, Celaena took his extended
arm, hoping that she had done it correctly. It had been a long time since she had been in a castle, and she knew that
the court of Adarlan was far different from any she had ever experienced.

She watched the other ladies gaze at Chaol as they passed, their lustful eyes going over his body and handsome face.
It made her feel sick with disgust to see how they regarded him as little more than chattela possible accessory for
their fine gowns and jewels.

I hate these women already, she said softly, looking ahead. There is one lady by the name of Kaltain Rompier
whom I cant stand. I overheard her talking to her friends earlier today about the other women she had seenshes
arrogant, rude, and I wouldnt be surprised if she were pure evil.

Chaol laughed. Sounds like someone else I know, hmm? He laughed again. But, yes, I know of Kaltain Rompier.
Duke Perringtonn is infatuated with her.

It was Celaenas turn to laugh. Theyd make a fine match. Two monstrous excuses for human beings, they are! I hate
to see how their children would turn out. Theyd probably have to be killed in the cradle to save this world from their
foul presence.

You dislike her that much?

I tried to drop a flowerpot on her head, if thats what you mean. Instead, it missed and got her dress dirty.

Gods above, save her.

Celaena raised an eyebrow. Youre notgoing to throw me into the dungeon for saying that?

No, Ill just post guards outside of Rompiers door to ensure her survival.

Dont forget beneath her balcony.

Chaol snorted. She doesnt get a balcony, Sardothien. The prince cant stand her. She threw herself at him when she
arrived yesterday. As a reward, he gave her two roomsboth of which are very small and she only has three
windows. All of them are considerably tiny.

They both grinned and laughed.

They reached Celaenas rooms quickly and she invited him in, but Chaol, it seemed, had to see the prince about
something. He told her he might come back for dinner, but it was highly unlikely that his meeting with the prince
would be short, so she shouldnt wait for him to eat.

He left her and Celaena smiled to herself in the quiet of her room. It was nice having a companion around like Lord
Chaol to spend time with, although he was still a bit cautious with her. But she could get used to this kind of
relationship. Itd been a long time since Celaena actually had had a friend she could talk to.

Calling for her servants to undress her, Celaena was still smiling by the time she slipped into a well-needed, hot bath.

CHAPTER 10

To make sure that she was properly dressed for lessons, Celaena Sardothien awoke the next day nearly two and a
half hours before she was due to arrive in the small dining hall. Her handmaids dressed and did what they did best.
Today her dress was a pinkish-red, almost magenta, and her hair was worn in the same fashion as it had been done
the day before.

At nine oclock, Celaena Sardothien (or rather Lithaen Gordaina) was seated once again before the podium. The other
two rows had been removed, and suspecting that Kaltain would most likely be seated in the front row, Celaena chose
to sit in the back. Beside her was the redhead, whose name was Jodra Nustrom, and she actually was very pretty,
despite her enormous hair.

Kaltain Rompier soon arrived in the room, and, fulfilling Celaenas prediction, she sat in the middle seat of the front
row. The woman barely acknowledged Celaena as she sat down, which was a relief to the assassin. The last thing she
needed was Kaltain Rompier chattering about how much money her father had.

Celaena Sardothien smirked to herself at the thought of Kaltain knowing how rich Adarlans assassin really was.

That is, if her bank accounts and treasuries were still around.

Celaena felt a knot of worry form in her stomach. What if her money was gone? Shed actually have to work after
getting her freedom! Celaena hated to admit it, but the thought of working made her upset to the point where she
wanted to tear out her hair.

After the years spent wasted in the salt-mines, Celaena had every intention of buying an estate in her home country
of Trasien with the mountains of gold that she had earned in years long since past. But, if the money was gone, shed
have to find a job and work until she died and

Before Celaena could finish this dreadful thought, a stunning, exotic woman that she had not noticed the day before
walked into the room. She had skin so dark that it was almost black, eyes like onyx, and hair that was well oiled and
sleek. Her clothes were foreignconsisting mostly of worn leather and animal fur. She had a liberating wildness about
her that made Celaena stare in awe and respect.

The thing that the assassin liked most about the woman was that she was by no means dressed like a lady. Her knee-
high boots were of a gray hide, lined with white fur, and kept up by the sinewy, brown strings that were tied tightly
around her calves. The tan, stomach-exposing shirt was hardly a top at allit would have closely resembled the
slave-shirt that Celaena had worn in the mines, except for the fact that it was also lined with fur. The above-the-knee
skirt matched the top that the woman was wearing.

At her side she carried a great wooden spear, which had feathers, tiny bones, and bells tied like charms on a bracelet
near to the dagger-sharp metal point. A similar arrangement of such objects adorned a hair ornament that she wore
above her right ear, holding one side of her hair back to reveal her chiseled cheekbones and fine facial features.

Kaltain Rompier took one look at this woman and considered her an uncultured savage.

Celaena Sardothien thought she was lovely.

When the woman pointed at the empty seat beside Celaena with raised eyebrows, the assassin smiled at the woman
and beckoned for her to sit. Celaena watched the foreigner seat herself, and secretly wished that she was allowed to
wear such clothing instead of the confining, stuffy dress that was suffocating her.
Since Madam Tulrouse was nowhere in sight, Celaena opened her mouth to speak to the dark-skinned woman, but
someone beat her to it.

Kaltain Rompier.

So, Kaltain said with a sneer, what country are you from? Do you have a name? I thought that Id met all of the
ladies in this room, but I must have missed you yesterday.

The fur-clad woman looked confused and nervous. I...no understand what you, er, speakPlease, slower.

To Celaenas disgust, Kaltain snorted and then laughed.

Madam Tulrouse certainly has her work- Kaltain began.

Celaena stepped in. Your name, Celaena said slowly. What do you call yourself? Celaena pointed at her chest.
Lithaen Gordaina.

The womans eyes widened in understanding. Anuksun Ytger, she said, and imitated Celaenas action.

Where are you from? Celaena asked, and bit down on her lip, thinking of a way to make the question more
understandable. ?

Oh! My country is Eyputiusunn.

Eyputiusunn. It was one of the few countries in the world that had female warriors and leaders within their culture.
Large grasslands and forests with bountiful amounts of deer, bears, and other edible creatures, Eyputiusunn was the
source for most of Adarlans meat industry. In recent years, the government of Adarlan had overused Eyputiusunns
resources, so a ban on hunting had been placed in order to restock the animal population of Eyputiusunn. This had led
to the severe rise in meat prices all across Adarlans empire, and a minor famine within Eyputiusunn. Celaena had no
idea if the famine was still continuing, but from the amounts of meat that the assassin had consumed since being
released from the mines, the crisis must have ended long ago.

Eyputiusunn? It sounds like a dirty word. Kaltain Rompier cackled. Well, Lithaen Gordaina, since you have no
problems when communicating with this savage, Ill leave you two to get better acquainted. With that, Kaltain turned
back around and began to talk to the blond woman beside her.

Celaena could have strangled her for saying that.

Hoping that Anuksun had not understood what Kaltain had said, Celaena wiped her anger from her face and tried to
look as pleasant as possible when she turned back to Anuksun.

Long travel. Very tired, no? Anuksun said and yawned, watching Celaena with her dark eyes.

Yes, very tired. Very long travel. Celaena acted out this the best she could with hand motions and facial expressions.
Eyputiusunn is very beautiful, is it not?

Very beautiful, yes. Adarlan is big, pretty country too. Though, Eyputiusunn may be a bit more big and beautiful.

Celaena laughed lightly and tried to think of something to ask the woman.

Where you from, Lithaen? Anuksun asked her. Adarlan?

Celaena nodded her head. Yes, from the city of Belaegyr.

Fish come from Belaegyr, no?

Celaena smiled warmly Yes, and from Renaril.

Anuksun stamped her spear on the floor, causing several of the ladies to turn their heads (if they were not already
watching the unlikely pair converse) towards them. I fish once. Fish hard to catchdeer much easier to kill.

Celaena smiled. Ive never been one to hunt or fish, but Im sure that if I was, I would be terrible at it.

Anuksun looked at her blankly.

Celaena shook her head. Sorry. Fish and deer- Celaena nodded to make sure that the woman understood- I no
hunt. I am bad at fishing and hunting. I like books, you see.

Bo-Oh, yes! Eyputiusunn has many books, but Eyputiusunnians no read much. Anuksun stroked her spear. Enjoy
hunt better.

What a surprise, coming from an uncivilized beast, Kaltain said, turning back around. She must have been listening
in on their conversation.

Watch your mouth, Celaena hissed, her eyebrows lowering.

You know, Lithaen, Madam Tulrouse wont be too fond of this relationship of yours. Its not ladylike to converse with
such uncultured savagery.

Celaena smiled. Then Ill make sure to stay away from you, Kaltain. Several women gasped.

The womans pretty features darkened in an unflattering way. Youre almost as unsophisticated as that dark-skinned
excuse for a woman.

And you, Kaltain, arent worth the dirt beneath her shoes. Celaena was getting mad to the point where, if she hadnt
spent two years in the mines, she would have driven Anuksuns spear through Kaltains skull.

How dare you speak to me in such a manner! Why you little- Kaltains face was filled with fury and she stood up.

Good morning, ladies! Please pardon my tardiness, for Prince Dorian wanted to speak with me. He will be in later on
during our lessons to see the fine choices that I have made. Madam Tulrouse had burst through the door in time to
stop the confrontation that would have occurredand most likely resulted in Kaltains death and Celaenas eternal
enslavement. Kaltain sat back down and the look of rage vanished from her face completely as Madam Tulrouse made
her way to the podium.

Good morning, Lithaen and Jodra. Good morning, Princess Anuksun! Madam Tulrouse said cheerily and bowed her
head to Anuksun. Celaena grinned with delight as Kaltains mouth popped open in shock. She had had very good luck
in the past three weeks! First she had gotten out of slavery, then she had received a week in the lap of luxury, and
now shed befriended the princess of a rich country! Things were looking up for Celaena Sardothien.

If any of the eight other ladies had not bothered to turn to look at Anuksun, they did so now, along with fierce
whispers to one another. Celaena could feel Princess Anuksuns face turn darker with embarrassment. Her anger
getting the better of her, Celaena glared at them all.

Yes, shes a princess. Get over it. Celaena said loudly so that they could all hear. Youre showing disrespect to her
and Madam Tulrouse by staring at her in such a manner, so I highly suggest that you all turn around and pay
attention before you offend both of them even more. Celaena didnt need to say anything else for her point to get
through. Eight heads turned back to the podium.

Madam Tulrouse nodded her thanks to Celaena and began to address them. Celaena Sardothien would have paid
attention to what the old woman was saying were it not for the silky brown hand that was placed on her own pale
one. Celaena looked over at Princess Anuksun with raised eyebrows.

Thank you, the princess whispered with her foreign accent and squeezed her hand to emphasize her point. Thank
you, Lithaen Gordaina.

This was the first time that anyone had really shown any interest in being friends with hernot because she was an
assassin or because she was beautiful, but because she was Celaena Sardothien (or Lithaen Gordaina) and nothing
more. In her life, Celaena had never really had many friends who she could talk to, let alone allow herself to get close
to (for they tended to die quite often), but when Princess Anuksun, huntress of the grasslands of Eyputiusunn,
grasped her hand, Celaena Sardothien felt the threads of companionship begin to weave.

CHAPTER 11

Celaena Sardothien hated to admit that learning how to act like a lady was hard work. There were so many things to
remember! Madam Tulrouse spent the three hours that they were together instructing them on how to walk and sit
like a woman of good breeding.

Naturally, Kaltain Rompier had been perfect.

Celaena and Anuksun, on the other hand, had a bit of difficulty. Both of them sat like men: their legs open and
posture relaxed. It was a bit more offensive to Madam Tulrouse for Princess Anuksun to sit in such a mannerher
small skirt hardly covered what was beneath. Madam Tulrouse tried as gently as possible (and as slowly) to explain to
Anuksun that sitting in such a way was inappropriate for a princess, but soon gave up and shoved the Princess legs
together with firm hands.

Celaena looked a bit more ridiculous when she was seated because of her fancy attire. According to Madam Tulrouse,
such bad posture made her look like a man in disguise, especially when Celaena sat with her legs open. It only took
that one statement to get the assassin to close her legs and sit upright.

They were to never cross their legs, but simply put one ankle behind the other.

Adarlans assassin considered asking if it was really necessary since no one could see beneath their skirts in the first
place, but instead she held her tongue and tried to look like she was paying attention.

Walking was also a bit of a struggle for the two girls. They were supposed to float, not strut. They were supposed to
flutter, not march. They were supposed to look like mindless butterflies, not real people.

The list went on and on.

Neither Princess Anuksun nor Celaena Sardothien was very happy by the time lunch rolled around.

The ladies were escorted to a room down the hall in which was a large wooden table and ten chairs. There was a large
meal set before them: golden goblets filled with wine and juices, roasted meats, an assortment of rolls, fruits of every
color and shape, vegetables, and, to Celaenas delight, berries.

Celaena loved berries. She could eat them for hours on endwhen she could afford them. A rare commodity in
Adarlan, most of the berry market came from Wendlyn, but since the war had begun, the prices for these heavenly
things had gone sky-high. It cost as much for a pound of berries as it did to buy a horse. Of course, all of the nobles
and rich merchants in the land had to have berries on their tables or else they couldnt entertain.

But in all of Celaenas travels across the empire of Adarlan, she had never seen so many berries on one table.

It had taken all of her self-control during lunch to not grab the silver bowl of red, black, purple, and pink berries and
stuff her face. Celaena Sardothien considered once or twice stealing the bowl and making a run for it, but she figured
that once she earned her freedom, she could waste her entire bank account on shipments of berries. Or maybe shed
just move to Wendlyn and eat berries all day long.

She and Anuksun barely spoke during lunchthe Princess was too busy shoving slices of meat down her throat and
Celaena was occupied with consuming as many berries as she could in one hour. The Princess tried to use her spear
as a utensil for her meat, but Madam Tulrouse had caught her in the act of skewering a leg of lamb and had taken the
weapon away.

The assassin had nearly choked on a mouthful of blackberries when Princess Anuksun had cried out from dismay at
the butter knife that she was given, and began to curse in her native tongue at poor Elise, shaking the dull knife in the
air.

Celaena Sardothien loved how disgusted and horrified the other ladies were at the two girls behavior and their
monstrous appetites. Most of them barely ate anything, and Celaena didnt bother to tell them that theyd need
double the amount of meat that Anuksun was gnawing on to stay alive during their session with Chaol. Most of them
looked too scrawny anywaythey wouldnt survive five minutes.

After an hour, Madam Tulrouse came into the room (for she decided, after taking away Anuksuns spear, to dine
alone), looking very angry and upset, and announced that they were to wear mens clothes to practice.

Kaltain and three other ladies nearly fainted. Princess Anuksun, however, had no problem with this, for she was
already dressed as inappropriately as any of them would be in half an hour. Celaena, used to wearing pants and
baggy shirts while practicing, barely cared about Tulrouses announcement, except for the fact that she still had the
fine, white lines of her whipping scars across her back; which, in the loose and low-hanging neckline of the shirt she
used, were quite visible. No merchants daughter should have those sort of marks on her back! If questioned, Celaena
would have to come up with a liefast.

While changing in her rooms upstairs, she came up with a genius explanation: Lithaen Gordaina had had a governess
from Wendlyn to take care of her when she was younger (since her mother had died in childbirth and her father was
constantly away) and this woman, being foreign, thought that severe whipping was the proper punishment for bad
behavior. Lithaens father had eventually found out about this (for Lithaen was too afraid to tell him for fear of more
beatings) and had the woman hanged.

It was all too perfect.

A guard came to escort her down to the practicing room, and after Celaena had prodded him for a few moments, she
found that it was the same room in which she had been training a few days before.

She loved the way the guard tried hard not to stare at her, and especially the way his face turned pink every time she
caught him looking. Celaena didnt say anything, of course, but merely batted her eyelashes naively.

Celaena found Princess Anuksun conversing with Lord Chaol when she arrived in the room. Five of the women,
including Kaltain, were huddled in a circle by a marble pillar, closely resembling a flock of sheep trying to stay warm
from the harsh winter temperatures. They were all quite red about the face and several of them were close to tears.
They wore pants that hung from them like sacks of food, their shirts barely revealing their more feminine body parts.

Feeling moderately smug, Celaena Sardothien walked over to where Anuksun and Chaol were talking.

Are you sure youre not going to get into any political trouble for this? Celaena asked Chaol, her mouth twisting up
to the side.

Chaol snorted and shook his head. They can complain and whine, but, technically, since Im acting on behalf of the
Kings orders, they cant do a damn thing about it. Chaol ran a hand through his brown hair. Besides, he said with a
smile, I think itll be good for Kaltain Rompier to be humiliated like this. She likes to believe that she has power over
people, so it makes her absolutely furious when someone uses their authority over her in such a degrading manner.

Celaena laughed, and poor Anuksun tried to look as amused as possible.

When the other two women arrived (the third had showed up in a sobbing fit and had to be escorted out), Chaol
began. Celaena had tried to keep herself from laughing as the women worked themselves into an emotional wreck.
She had never imagined that wearing mens clothes could be so horrible for someone used to wearing a bone-
crunching corset.

Handing them dull-edged swords, Lord Chaol put them in pairs, but since their number was down to nine, Celaena had
to be partnered with Chaol himself. The redhead, Jodra Nustrom, had the unfortunate honor of being Kaltains
sparring partner. Chaol had them all going over the basic steps for the first hour and a half, which then evolved to
learning the fastest way of making a touch on the chest, or, as Celaena would put it, a sure-kill. Even after a weeks
practice with the man, Celaena had difficulty getting past his guard. However, according to him, she was making great
progress and, if she were against the other women, they would be so full of holes that they could be used as strainers
in the kitchens.

When the assassin could spare it, she watched Anuksun and her partner go at it. The Princess was very good and very
fast. If Anuksun had been against Chaol, he could be used as a food strainer after their lessons.
To both her delight and displeasure, Kaltain was not very fast or well disciplined with a sword, but her blows were so
strong and sure that Kaltain Rompier sent her opponent flying into the ground a few times before their lesson was
over.

It was four oclock by the time they finished, and Celaena Sardothien was so tired and sweaty that she considered
passing out on the training-room floor instead of trudging all the way up to her room. However, the promise of a hot
bath and a soft bed was enough to make Adarlans assassin move her feet.

Princess Anuksun asked Celaena if she was planning on going to the group dinner that Prince Dorian was hosting that
evening, but the look that Lord Chaol gave Celaena told her to tell Anuksun that she would most not be attending the
meal that night. Lord Chaol had dismissed the ladies and waited until all but Anuksun had left the hall before he took
Celaena back to her roomhe didnt want any scandalous rumors springing up.

The princess and the assassin parted with smiles and waves, Lord Chaol leading Celaena out of the hall.

I see you made a new friend, Chaol said, smiling.

If I hadnt, Kaltain would have made her miserable. She replied, looking ahead at the corridor before them.

The fact that she was a princess didnt mean anything to you?

Celaena turned her head sharply to look at him, insulted. For your information, I stood up for her and befriended her
before I knew that she was Princess of Eyputiusunn. All I knew was that she was alone in a foreign country, looked
interesting, and that if I had been in her position, I would have liked for someone to do the same.

I had no idea that you were so noble. Chaol said and didnt look at her.

Why am I not surprised? Celaena shook her head, unhappy at this conversation. Conversation had always gone well
with Chaol, and while they had some dry and sarcastic moments, he was never thisrude. But then again, they
werent friends and she and Chaol had never talked too casuallyhe always remained somewhat distant and wary of
her, as if she had assassin stamped in glowing red on her forehead.

This thought suddenly made Celaena very angry. She had no intention of killing anyone, though she was still
emotionally capable of doing so. In the mines, they hadnt succeeded in doing what they had set out to do by forcing
and whipping her to her near-death: to break her spirit. She hadnt crumpled up with despair and turned her face to
the wall to die; she hadnt taken her own life (she had considered it once or twice though); and she hadnt begged or
pleaded for her freedom. Lowering herself to do that was worse than death in her mind. No, she had beaten those
bastards who had sent her to Endovier; she had prevailed.

But why did Chaol still not trust her? Even during dinner, when it would have been convenient to have a knife, even a
butter knife, to cut her food with, she was denied anything but a spoon and a very dull fork. All of this was ridiculous,
especially since if she wished it, she could easily kill whomever Chaol thought she was going to slay with some object
that was in the room. Why wasnt she allowed to attend the dinner tonight? Did Chaol really believe that she was
going to pull something when her freedom and name were on the line?

Why cant I go to the banquet? Celaenas voice was flat and quiet, the way it usually went before she got furious
like the calm before a storm.

Chaol sensed the shift in her emotions and looked over at her, startled. Him? Startled? If she hadnt been so
dangerously angry, she would have laughed.

Because youre not permitted to go near any potentially dangerous objects. The ladies are allowed to use knives,
Chaol said carefully, but then smiled at her. Besides, theyre having steak tonightand you wouldnt want me cutting
your meat for you, now would you?

Then why dont you keep me in an empty, windowless room with an iron door and nothing but a chamber pot to keep
me company? That way I wont be a threat to your wonderful prince and you wont have to waste your precious time
looking after me, she snarled.

Chaol looked at the ground as they walked up a flight of stairs. I dont mind guarding you, Sardothien.
I thought you hated to be away from your prince, she said with a sneer.

Not when I get to spend time with the likes of you, Sardothien. Chaol said cheerfully, bounding up the stairs.

The likes of you. His words burned rage into her heart. She had woken up too early and had been worked too hard
putting up with Kaltains offensive remarks had been enough, but now this?

Am I that repulsive and untrustworthy to you then? Just because I used to kill to get food in my belly and to stay off
the streets? Just because of my past?

All of that wasnt really true, but it sounded convincing. She had never been on the verge of starving as Adarlans
assassin, not even when she was first starting, but she had killed to survive, to cope with the horrible hand that fate
had dealt her.

They rounded a corner and walked down the hallway towards her room.

Chaol snorted. So youre retired now, is that it? I didnt know that assassins did that. Once a killer, always a killer, I
always say. I highly doubt that youve changed that much since the mines.

They had reached Celaenas door as he said this. As she entered, she didnt know whether to scream in fury and kill
him or just scream in frustration and go beat something else.

Go to hell, you bastard, Celaena barked and slammed the door in his face.

It was only hours after she had insulted him that the assassin realized that he had escorted her all the way back to
her room unarmed.

CHAPTER 12

Dorian DeHavilliard, Crown Prince of Adarlan, sat on his throne in boredom that neared insanity. His mother had
transported her entire court outside for the day, a task that required moving all her tables, chairs, and pillows deep
into the South Garden. Her court had reluctantly followed, their trails of servants coming with them.

It was a beautiful day: the sky was crystal blue again, and the weather was similar to that of a paradisiacal spring
morning. Soft breezes wafted by, carrying with it the singing and merriment of life outside the palace walls.

In front of him, circles of the ridiculous nobles and ladies-in-waiting danced to delicate tunes played by the orchestra
that his mother had instructed to come into the garden with them. They laughed and smiled and bounced around in
their frilly costumes, jingling their bells and ribbons whenever they saw fit. The scent of their perfumes ruined the
fresh and pure smells of the garden.

His mother sat beside him, clapping happily to the tune of the music, smiling like any other stupid woman here. He
could see the wrinkles that she sought to hide in the corners of her mouth and eyes; he could tell that her skin was
not that smooth or beautifully colored. Dorian knew how many hours it took for her ladies-in-waiting to paint and
decorate her faceand how long it took for them to fix the stays on her corset so that she could still have her slender
figure. Were all women that ridiculous about looking pretty?

Everyone here was just as painted and crafted as his mother. He knew that women could hardly breathe in their
gowns (for he often saw how tightly they were tied beneath), and knew that this dancing would probably cause a few
of them to faint. Which would give him the perfect opportunity to leave.

Once every two weeks, Dorian DeHavilliard was required by his mother to sit at court with her and play with her
courtiers. Hed frequently bring friends or visiting male relations to court with him so that he could have someone to
talk to other than the women who threw themselves at him, but today he had made the mistake of bringing three of
his distant cousins to court. Despite their love for hunting and fencing, they were all just as silly as the nobles here.
They had left their prince to dance with the young women of the court.

His cousins had the same natural instincts as he did, but they had not yet learned that the women of his mothers
court were, to put it frankly, terrible bedmates and not worth the chase. Maybe this was because of the lack of
hunting involved. All that Dorian had to do to get a woman to sleep with him was to dance a few dances with her and
tell her that she was the prettiest maiden at the ball.
Stupid sows.

At dinner last night, his cousins had eagerly investigated the nine beautiful women who dined at a table without any
male company. As much as he hated to admit it, Dorian was curious about how easy these women were too. Except
for Kaltain Rompier. She was so fast that Prince Dorian had been put off before he had even considered her as a bed
partner.

He had immediately taken Princess Anuksun off of his list of potentials because of her status. He didnt want to cause
any political trouble. All of them were nice to look at, yet only a few actually caught his eye.

But the woman that Dorian was genuinely interested in was Celaena Sardothien. Yet she wasnt there! Dorian had
looked all over for a sign of the woman, but he could not find her. He had been watching her since her arrival at the
palace, watching her morning duels with Chaol from the balcony above them. She was an intelligent and strong
womanhe had been correct in choosing her for this. But could she pass off as a lady?

Dorian looked at the silly people prancing about and thought about Celaena in their place. He couldnt see it. Shed
enjoy hanging them all by their toes more than she would dancing with them. Then again, so would he.

He should probably talk to her one of these days about those books that he had lent her. Chaol told him that she had
finished six of them and was on the final one, gobbling up the pages at each chance she got. Dorian DeHavilliard
frowned when he thought about how little anyone here read. All they knew were songs and poetry and other light
things.

Dorian rested his head against a propped-up hand. His legs were stiff and his bottom was sore from sitting for too
long. Yawning, he got to his feet to stretch, raising his arms over his head. Immediately, five young women rushed at
him like dogs, awaiting him to ask them to dance. With a cold look, he sat back down again. He was so bored of these
people! How was he going to be able to live here for the rest of his life?

A waltz began to play, much too dark for this time of the day, and Dorian looked at his mother with raised eyebrows.
But she was looking at someone else. A large, old woman with a sort of regal grace was leading what looked like a
flock of jewels into his mothers makeshift court.

Dorian stood up to get a better look. That old bat hadnt brought those girls in here, had she? Dorian was furious. How
dare she bring them here! Some of these girls were common dirt dragged up from the ground!

Tulrouses trail of women stopped behind her and looked around. Several members, mostly men, of the court looked
at them, interested in who these beauties might be.

His mother turned to him and smiled, saying quietly, Dorian, youre twenty-two. Your father and I have both agreed
that it would be splendid for you to find a bride before your twenty-third year. Which is in eight months, mind you.
Since you have shown no interest in anyone in my court, we talked to Madam Tulrouse and she said that shed be
delighted to introduce you to the ladies that she is training so that perhaps you could find a suitable wife.

Wife? Wife? Dorian opened his mouth to object, but his mother held up a hand.

Just look at them, darling. You dont have to decide anything; just look. With a wave of her jewel-encrusted fingers,
the Queen beckoned for the old woman to display the women before him.

A redheaded girl came towards him and bowed. Jodra Nustrom, my Lord, said Tulrouse and moved the girl aside.
He nodded his head and looked at the next girl who was brought over and groaned. It was Kaltain. Before anything
could be said, Dorian motioned to move her away. Then came three more girls whose names he forgot immediately.

And then came Celaena.

Lithaen Gordaina, my Lord, Tulrouse said with a reverence that startled Dorian. Chaol had come up with a pretty
name for her. He had to admit that the woman was beautiful, even more so now that she had been eating and out in
the sun for a few weeks. Dorian couldnt help but notice how Celaena wore little make-up or paints on her face. They
were used to enhance, not to conceal.
She was a natural beauty. Her hair shone on its own, her eyes sparkled on their own accord beneath her darkened
eyelashes, and her lips were so wonderfully colored and lush that Dorian knew that no face paints were needed to
make some of her features stand out.

So taken was he by the assassins (an assassin, gods above!) beauty that Dorian didnt even realize that he was
staring. An uncomfortable silence had rippled around him, one in which everyone was waiting for him to order the girl
sent away. But he made no gesture to do so. He stared at her until the blush in her cheeks threatened to turn her
face to ash and then he softly motioned for Tulrouse to put her aside.

While being introduced to the other girls, Dorian hardly noticed their faces or their names. He watched with growing
dislike as one of his cousins, Garold approached Celaena. Unable to hear what was going on, Dorian squirmed to get
out of his seat to reach them. Couldnt this woman hurry up?

Garold held out his hand to Celaena, who looked at it as if she had never seen it before. The waltz was still playing
and Celaena looked at the small orchestra playing beside his mother. Dorian almost cut off Tulrouses head in
frustration when he saw Celaena smile slowly and take Garolds outstretched hand. Leading her onto the dance floor,
Garold gracefully led her in a waltz. Despite the bad situation, Dorian realized that Celaena was a good dancer as well.
If she could fool Garold and the rest of the court into thinking that she was a noble, she wouldnt have any trouble in
Wendlyn.

Dorian didnt even acknowledge when all of the women and Tulrouse had gone away with the Queens permission to
mingle about the court. He wondered what Garold would think of Celaena if he knew that she was the assassin that he
probably still feared would slit his throat during the night.

Jealous, are we? It was Chaol. Leaning against Dorians throne, Chaol watched Celaena be spun and twirled by
Garold, her magnificent hair trapping the light of the sun within its strands.

Dorian snorted. Im more concerned for Garolds safety, he said coolly, looking at his nails.

And Im a pig with wings, Chaol said. Come now, your Highness, dont despair! Youre free to love this beautiful
lady! Just as long as you remain ten feet away from her at all times. It will be like an ancient love story: you are the
love-struck hero who is only able to love his lady from afar, for she is betrothed to an evil villain who-

Enough, Dorian said shortly, rubbing his temples. Im surprised that you havent cut Garolds head off yet.

Chaol looked genuinely shocked. What?

Dorian grinned. I know youre sweet on her.

Chaol coughed. Sardothien? Gods above, man, you cant be serious! Id sooner love a rabid lion.

Before Dorian could think up a witty reply, the dance ended. Madam Tulrouse rushed forward to grab Celaena before
another man could steal her away and escorted her out of the gardens, after the trail of nine women who were
leaving. Princess Anuksun waited for Celaena to catch up, and then walked beside her, laughing at something the
assassin said.

Garold, catching Dorians eye, approached him.

Have you ever seen anything like her, Dorian? Garold asked breathlessly. What is her name? You must tell me!

Dorian looked at Garold with his eyebrows high on his head.

She is the Lady Lithaen Gordaina. Chaol said finally.

Lady Lithaen! Garold gasped, his eyes dreamy. Tell me everything you know about her, I beseech you! Garold
said.

Dorians eyebrows lowered. Shes betrothed, he blurted out before Chaol could say anything.

Garold looked as if he had been poisoned. Betrothed? But to whom?

A slow smile spread across Dorians face.

Garold gasped again and bowed his head. A thousand apologies, my Lord! I never realized that you two were-

Dorian waved his hand dismissively. Engaged? Yes, we are. We have been for several months now, and at my
mothers annual Summer Ball eight months from now, were to announce it. I have yet to tell my parents, so you
must keep this a secret, Garold, or else I will have you exiled to the bleakest and desolate place that I can find.
Dorian smiled wider. Perhaps the salt mines of Endovier?

Chaol went into a coughing fit and had to walk away.

Garold shook his head violently. No! Not a word from me, your Highness! And again, I apologize for intruding on your
relationship with the Lady Lithaenit will not happen again!

See to it that you and your two cousins stay away from her as well. Ill be asking her about who approaches her and
who stays away. Hopefully Ill find you on the latter list.

Garold bowed deeply and rushed off to find some young woman to calm his nerves.

Laughing, Prince Dorian, heir to the throne of Adarlan, leaned back in his chair and pondered the mystery that was
Celaena Sardothien.

CHAPTER 13

Celaena smiled and picked at her nails while Tulrouse spoke before the group of assembled hopefuls. She had those
court nobles fooled. She had to admit she was taken by surprise when that man had asked her to dance, but he had
taken her shock for modesty and had delighted in her.

Stupid bastard.

The court was how she had expected it to be: over-painted, over-bound, and overly fake. The gentlemen were just as
delicate and foolish as the ladies. And all of them were so empty-headed that Celaena wondered if she could use their
heads as substitutes for drums.

Celaena fought not to laugh at the image she conjured in her head.

Her smile turned quickly into a frown as her thoughts shifted to Prince Dorian. He had made her stand in front of him
for a full minute before the Queens court, his eyes never leaving her face. It had been alarmingly embarrassing,
especially when she saw the smile that the Queen of Adarlan had given her as Celaena had walked away from Dorian.
Was this how he spent his days? With these idiots? The prince of the most powerful country in the world should be
doing more important political thingsnot dancing and flirting so shamelessly!

She was surprised that the Queen of Adarlan was so hollowshe had never seen or met the woman before, but she
had expected the wife of the man that had ruined her country to be a bit more respectable and commanding. This
woman was no queen, nor had she any right to hold claim over any court across the continent.

Their court was a joke. It did nothing for the world, absolutely nothing, save for bestow pounds of gold upon their
tailors and entourages. They danced and sat and fanned themselves the whole daythere was no romanticism or
heroism about this court! It was corrupt, a mockery of what the world had once been! The more she thought about it,
the more Dorian DeHavilliards pretty face began to blend in with their wigs and corsets and decorative swords.

Celaena knew all about Dorians reputation with womenshe had overheard Jodra talking to another girl about it.
Prince Dorian DeHavilliard could have any woman that he desired and he took full advantage of that fact. He would
take a lover for a few days or maybe a month or so and once he tired of her, he would leave her a trinket for her
services.

Celaena found this to be short of prostitution. How could Chaol possibly want to be friends with that sort of
womanizer?

Chaol.
Celaena felt a pang of guilt sweep through her. She had accused him wrongfully and had treated him badly. He didnt
come to bring her to this mornings lesson and while she had seen him standing beside Dorian, looking quite pleasant,
Celaena dreaded how he would treat her at their afternoon session. She hadnt even been able to look at his face
when he had appeared at court. Celaena hated this feeling of anxiety and regretwhat if he had been wounded by
her words?

Celaena looked down at her hands and realized she had been wringing them so badly that her fingers were swollen
and red. Trying to keep her face expressionless, Celaena tuned back into Tulrouses lecture, hoping that it would keep
her worries at bay.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Crown Prince Dorian DeHavilliard walked the halls of the palace, his cousin Roland beside him. Roland was a second
cousin, yet the two had barely seen each other while growing up. They were friends, but not close ones. If Dorian
hadnt had the responsibilities as Crown Prince of Adarlan, he imagined that he would have turned out much like
Rolandpassionate about life, fencing, and women.

Barely nineteen with the face of a cherub, Roland had all of the court ladies aflutter whenever he visited. He had
arrived only an hour ago, giving Dorian the excuse to leave his mothers court. The youths face glowed as much as
his golden hair and his steps were light and carefree. Roland enjoyed courtly activities, yet they did not dominate his
lifeand his wardrobe. Thankfully, he had dressed well the few times he had visited him: combining fashion and
comfort in his clothes. Roland never went anywhere without a rapier sheathed at his side and was always ready for a
quick duel.

Dorian liked his endless amounts of energy and cunninga quality that gave him a boyish innocence and pride. It
made Dorian feel more alive to be with his cousin, it made him feel more connected to the youth of their time.

But now he seemed differenta bit more reserved, as if he were constantly thinking, planning something. His eyes
had a gleam to them that was now not so innocent, and Dorian had no trouble noticing the extra amount of
embroidery that had gone into his blue jacket and white pants. His boots were of the finest quality, and his rapier had
been replaced by a more delicate-looking sword that was clearly for show.

They were walking silently now, conversation having died minutes before. Seven girls in fancy dresses walked past
them (the eighth being Princess Anuksun), smiling and greeting him. Where was the ninth? Where was she? Dorians
step fumbled. He hadnt meant to bring Roland to this part of the castle. Kaltain Rompier licked her lips at him as she
walked by. Dorian shuddered.

Roland grinned. Your harem, I take it?

Dorian snorted, Ah, if only. Theyre just a bunch of local noble girls who, by the grace of my kind mother, are
learning more about what life in court is like. Theyre probably going to occupy my future wifes courtthat is, if I ever
get married.

You still havent found anyone? Roland asked, raising a blond eyebrow.

Dorian shook his head. Im limited to princesses and court ladies. Ive tasted all of them and none of them appeal to
me. Dorian sighed. Its hard to find a woman that you can respect these days.

Roland chuckled. Dont worry about ityoull find someone appealing enough for you. Everyone does.

Dorian laughed bitterly, ignoring his cousins cautious tone. Oh, really? Try telling that to my parents. They both
married for looks and money and look whats happened to them. They claimed to be in love, and they might have
been with the idea of love, but seriously now! Theyre miserable with each other. Its hard to believe that you, a
noble, actually believe in that one person for everyone concept. Especially now that youve grown up into what I
hear is a bed-warming fiend! There are too many people in the world for it to work out like that.

Roland ran a hand through his dark blond hair, an oily smile spreading. Dont be so unromantic, Dorian. Give it as
much time as your parents will allow. Youll find herjust be patient. And if she isnt the one, Im sure that youll be
able to maintain a few extra beds on the side.
I wish that I had your confidence in love, Dorian said, smiling at the bleakness of his future. Im happy to bed any
woman who attracts me, but the thought of marrying one of them makes me sick to my stomach. I dont mind
sharing my body with them, but to share my life and spirit with themthats a completely different story.

Thats perhaps the most insightful thing Ive ever heard you say, Roland said, smiling, though the Crown Prince
detected a bit of condescension to his voice that made him uneasy. But Dorian merely shrugged his shoulders and
turned a corner.

He found himself face-to-face with Celaena Sardothien.

Shit.

She looked as surprised as he did. Celaena took a step back and nodded at him, preparing to move past them as
quickly as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian watched Rolands eyes grow large and heard him inhale
sharply.

My apologies, my lord Prince, Sardothien muttered and lowered her eyes. What was she doing unescorted? Where
was Chaol?

Theres no need for apologies, my lady. We were the ones who ran into you, Roland said gracefully.

Dorian recognized the tone in his voice and felt his throat tighten. Once Roland found himself a woman, he would stop
at nothing to win her over, or so Chaol had informed him. But what if this woman was an assassin in disguise? Dorian
knew that he couldnt tell Roland what Celaena really washis father would kill him. What could he say to prevent
Roland from chasing after her? He knew that Roland didnt mind bedding the wives of married men, so that excuse
was out of the question. But would Roland really dare to cross him?

Dorian looked at Celaenas uneasy smile. He couldnt introduce her to Roland as his fiance. Celaena Sardothien
wouldnt mind calling the Crown Prince a liar to his face. Hed have to think of something fast: some excuse, some lie
to get Roland away from the assassin

I dont believe that weve ever met, Lady, Roland said.

IIm just visiting. Im not a member of the court, Celaena said cautiously.

Rolands mouth spread into that gentle smile that Dorian knew so well. It had once been genuine, but it now was a
tool, part of his large inventory of tricks and guises.

I could tell that from the moment I saw you. No court lady could have eyes like yours, filled with such spirit and
intelligence-

Gods above, make him stop.

Dorian hadnt seen Roland in over a yearhad the youth improved so much with his courting that this was all he
needed? He didnt even know her name yet!

Lady Lithaen, Dorian cut in, dont you have an appointment with Lord Chaol now?

Inside his mind, Dorian was screaming in frustration. What a terrible excuse! Her reply quickly shattered the pathetic
thing to pieces.

Lord Chaol has cancelled ourappointment for the afternoon. That explains why she was alonebut it didnt explain
why Chaol hadnt come to pick her up.

Lady Lithaen. Roland tried the name out. What is your family name? Perhaps I know them.

Gordaina, Dorian said curtly. Her name is Lithaen Gordaina.

Are you kin to the DeHavilliard family?

No, Dorian said, She is of no relation to us. Shes visiting from her country and her all of her days here are
unfortunately filled. There was no use beating around the bush.

Roland sighed, but then his face brightened. In that case, my dear Lady Lithaen, Ill have to be with you at night.

Dorians eyes almost burst from their sockets. How could he be so bold? How could he possibly have said that to her
when he thought that she was a lady?

Excuse me? Celaena hissed.

Dorian looked at Celaena, whose brows were lowered. Her eyes had darkened and her head was cocked in such a way
that Dorian checked to make sure his sword was still at his side.

I meant no offense, Lady, Roland said quickly. I believe that you misinterpreted my message. You see, Im now
quite curious about youDorian never acts so oafishly protective around women. Ive never heard of the Gordaina
family, and Im sure that I would haveespecially if they have a daughter as beautiful as you. Either you mean
something very special to Dorian or youve done something very bad that requires him to hide you from everybody.

Dorian and Celaena said nothing.

Roland let out a short laugh, But that doesnt matternot right now, at least. Im afraid that it will have to wait until
tonight, my Lady. Dorian, if youll excuse me, I need to see to my luggage and my mothershes undoubtedly waiting
for an escort to court. With a bow, Roland turned from them and walked away.

Celaena looked at Dorian, her face now a mask over her feelings. He knew that he should be afraid for his lifeshe
hadnt hesitated to kill politicians in the pastbut for some odd reason, Dorian didnt feel uneasy with her. He
understood that she was controlling herself simply because her freedom was on the line, and as long as that barrier
stood between them, he had nothing to fear.

Im sorry that you had to see that, Dorian offered silently. Hes just--

Just like you, Celaena said coldly.

Dorians eyes flashed. What?

The womans face was like ice. I know how you treat the women in this castleand out of it. If you think that you can
pull those same maneuvers on me to get me into a bed with you, your highness, you are sorely mistaken.

Oh, that, he thought with an inward grimace. Dorian sighed. I can assure you, Lady Gordaina, that I have no
intention of courting you, Dorian smirked, but if I did, I dont think that you could do anything to stop it.

Her face turned from cold to fiery rage in less than a second. You wouldnt dare to do that to me.

A lazy expression filled Dorians eyes as he felt his temper rising in response to hers. What else have you heard
about me? That Im the best lover a woman could ever have?

From what Ive heard, it sounds short of prostitution.

Dorian blinked.

You give them gifts for sexdont you think that those women might want more from you? She looked so cross that
Dorian thought that steam would burst from her ears.

What more could they possibly want from me? I give them my body, I give them bragging rights, I give them
expensive jewelry--

How about kindness, courtesy, respect, and love?

Dorian growled. He didnt need this from her. Im not going to debate my morals and love life with an assassin. What
do you know of morals anyway? You kill people for money, you know. Dorian snarled.

He knew that he had gone too far when he saw the flash of hurt cross her face and then vanish. Dorian instantly
regretted saying it. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Celaena spoke before him.

I killed people to survive, not for pleasure. Do you think that when I was little I wanted to be an assassin? Her voice
became louder, growing more and more vicious with every word. Who wants to kill people for money? I did it
because I had no other optionsI did it because it was the only thing that I knew how to do! Just because Ive killed
doesnt mean that I dont believe in basic valuesit doesnt make me non-human! I killed to survive, Prince Dorian,
you use women to amuse yourself. With that said, which one of us has the least morals now?

Dorian didnt know what to say. No one, let alone a woman, had ever scolded him like that. How could he reply to her
other than to say Im sorry?

Forgive me, Celaena Sardothien, his words were sincere. I spoke before I thought. I shouldnt have said that. Or
what I said earlierabout courting you into bed. I hope that this will not put a hinder on our relationship. He looked
at her face, hoping that she understood that he meant every word in his apology.

Celaena snorted. As if we had a relationship to begin with, Prince Dorian.

What? Dorian asked, taken aback.

In the past weeks that Ive been here, you have not once tried to communicate or establish a relationship with me.
Youve ignored me entirely.

Thats not true. Ive watched youIm always watching you I sent you those books, he tried.

You never came to talk to me about them.

Ive been busy with my father and my country.

Celaena shook her head. You dont need to make excusesI know why you and Chaol both treat me like this. Its not
like I dont deserve itI mean, I was an assassinbut itd be nice to have some company once in a while who wasnt
afraid that Id slit their throat.

Yourelonely?

Celaena shrugged. It doesnt matter, does it? Im afraid that I have to go to my rooms nowif Im caught out here
without an entourage of guards, someone will end up throwing me back in the mines. Good day, your highness.
Celaena curtsied to him and departed.

Shes lonely. Id never have suspected it.

He had caught the sadness in her eyes before she had leftit hurt her to be treated this way, yet she understood
why.

It doesnt matter, does it? Her words repeated themselves in his mind. Oh, yes it mattered. He didnt understand
why, but it mattered. It was almost alarming how much it disturbed him that Celaena Sardothien, the bane of his
fathers existence, was lonely. He should have paid more attention to her--he should have followed up on the books
that he lent herhe should have done a lot of things in the past few weeks.

He felt like he knew her, somehow. Like her face was an image in a murky dream. There was something about the
way she held her head and the way her eyes were so expressive that puzzled him. It wasnt until just nowuntil they
had spoken together, alone, for the first time, that he had felt it. There was something about her that comforted him.

I never considered her more than an assassin until I saw her that day at the mines. But even then I pushed my
curiosity aside for safetys sake. But I wonder how much she has changed since two years ago. I wonder if she would
still want to kill after being a slave. Because of that doubt, Ive had Chaol monitoring her like a hawk. She never eats
meals with anyone but herselfand Chaol occasionally. Her maids dont talk to her and Chaol remains too distant to
be her companion. He doesnt trust her at all. Then again, why should he?

Dorian remembered her sad eyes and her passionate defense and shook his head. Two years ago, she had lived a life
where she killed to survive. Here, it was the opposite. If she didnt behave herself and prove to his father that she
could handle his mission, shed be sent back to the salt mines and would work until she died of disease, exhaustion,
whippings, and malnutrition.

Even in the little time that he had known her and experienced glimpses of her character, he knew that she was smart
and interesting. She was undoubtedly educated, for she had been eager to read and spoke eloquently. Dorian had
never known an intelligent woman before. He had never really realized that women were good for anything but sex.
True, he had dreamt that they were more useful than carnal pleasures, but he never expected a woman to actually be
clever. With such a woman at his fingertips, could he really let her go back to slavery?

For the first time in his life, Dorian found himself dumbfounded. For the first time in his life, someone puzzled him. For
the first time in his life, he desired a woman not for her body, but for her mind.

The day was still young and Dorian had much to do, but he was sure that he could easily get out of whatever plans he
had for this evening. He was going to spend tonight with Death herself.

CHAPTER 14

Celaena Sardothien aimed the cue at the white ball in front of her. Steadying her hand upon the green felt surface of
the table, she shot the wooden rod forward. And she missed it completely.

Cursing, Celaena tried again, this time hitting the cue ball in such a way that it merely rolled to the side, gently
knocking into a colored ball. Well, at least she hit something.

She had finished her last book an hour ago and had soon remembered how boring her rooms were. With nothing
better to do, the assassin had attempted to relearn the game of billiards.

She had such a table in her game and music room, but she had never used it, considering it a game much better
played with company. But boredom had gotten the better of her and she had picked up the cue with high hopes that
the game wouldnt be too hard to learn. She had never been more wrong.

In the past hour, Celaena had hit air more often than she had hit the cue ball. She was rarely bad at anything that she
tried hard at, but to be blunt, Celaena was awful at billiards. Why anyone would ever want to play this game was
really beyond her.

Celaena moved around the table and took aim again. She missed. Gritting her teeth and growling, Celaena considered
snapping the cue in half. But her pride refused to let her quit. She would master this ridiculous game or would end up
destroying it. It was nearing sunsetthe blazing red and orange hues streaming into the room from the windows
made her eyes water.

Stupid light. Stupid game. Stupid cue.

Celaena jabbed the cue again and hit the ball with such force that it went flying into the back wall of the table and
rebounded, knocking three colored balls out of its way before it settled along a protected edge of the table. She
grumbled as she walked over to the ball, trying to position herself and the stick so that she could hit it. Positioning the
stick vertically in the air, she shot down at the ball. All that she hit was felt. She missed it again? What sort of sadistic
game was this?

Celaena took the white ball in her hands and aimed it at the piano across the room. Before she could cause some
serious damage to the instrument, she took a deep breath and put the ball down where it had been. She cocked the
rod, but then stopped, her hand darting out to move the ball a few inches away from the edge. What fun was a game
if you didnt cheat a little? Celaena repositioned herself and looked out at the fifteen colored balls, all of which refused
to go into the six side pockets. They had made gaps too small!

Shed play until she got them all in

Celaena hit the cue ball and watched it knock into the number three, sending the red orb across the table, headed
straight for a hole. There was no way that she could miss this one

It stopped rolling at the edge of the pocket.

Howling with rage, Celaena ran over to the pocket and hopped up and down in fury. She first screamed at the ball and
then took the cue in her hands and bit down upon the shaft, still screaming through her clamped teeth. This cave-
womanish behavior went on for a few more seconds before the assassin stopped, and slapped the red ball into the
hole. It would have gone in if the table wasnt defected.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard tried to keep himself from laughing, feeling as if his insides would burst if he held in his laughter
any longer. He had been watching from the doorway for the last five minutes as Celaena Sardothien tried her hand at
billiards, arriving in time to see her leap around, screaming and biting the cue. That had only been the beginning.

At one point, she had taken the cue ball in her hands and hurled it at another ball on the table, causing it to fly into
the air and take a chip out of the stone wall. Five minutes later, the cue ball had succeeded in knocking itself into one
of the corner pockets. When she had gone to get it, her hand had gotten stuck in the hole. This had produced such
howls of rage and contempt that Dorian feared shed rip the table in two.

He watched her aim and miss. Twice. Three times. Four.

Youre the worst pool player Ive ever seen, Celaena Sardothien, he said as he stepped out from the doorway. She
swung towards him, her eyes bright with anger. She didnt seem to care that she was only wearing her under-shorts
and a lacy, frilly undershirt. Dorian kept on walking towards her. Youve been playing for only the gods know how
long and youre still pathetic. Ive seen court ladies who can play better than you. They at least hit the ball. All of this
was in jest, but Dorian smiled anyway to make sure that she understood it.

If youre just going to insult me, she growled, you can go back to the sewer that you came from.

Dorian laughed. You have to realize how amusing this is to watchare you planning on biting that cue anytime soon?
I want to invite a painter in here so that I can forever remember that sight.

She looked up from where she was leaning on the table and raised an eyebrow. Youve been here that long?

Dorian found heat rushing to his cheeks. Who would possibly leave or interrupt a sight like this? Youre very amusing
when youre literally hopping mad, he said with a grin.

Funny to you, infuriating for me, she snarled and shoved the rod forward. And missedagain.

Dorian clicked his tongue. For the worlds greatest assassin, you are offensively awful at billiards. Here, let me show
you how to do it. The prince walked over to her and took her cue from her. He nudged her out of the way and
positioned himself. You see how my thumb and my index finger are always holding the upper end of the cue? All that
you have to do is

Celaena knocked him out of the way and took the staff from him. I know how to hold it, you buffoon.

Buffoon? Now that was something hed never been called before. Celaena tried to hit the ball againand, not
surprisingly, she missed.

Your body isnt moving the right way. Here, just let me show you Dorian reached over her and put his hand on top
of the one gripping the bottom of the cue. His other took the hand that supported the tip and positioned her fingers on
the wood, his fingers then dropping to her wrist. He had never been this close to a woman without having his clothes
offDorian felt another blush rising to his cheeks.

His eyes drifted down to her face, and to his relief, he saw that her face was as red, if not more so, than his. How
many times had she been with a man? She was young, so probably not manyHe couldnt think about this now, not
when he was so close to her and she was dressed in her undergarments
If you dont stop feeling and start instructing, Im going to jam this cue up your ass, Celaena snapped. Dorian
looked at her face, which contracted suddenly with worry. That wasnt a threat, your highnessit was just a--

Dorian shook his head and tightened his grip on her right hand. I knew how you meant it. I apologize for my
slownessmy thoughts were elsewhere Her hair smelled deliciousDorian scowled. Cant you go three minutes
with a woman without your pants thinking for you?

Look, all that you have to do is he walked her body through the steps to hit the ball. And she hit it. The number
two ball went into a corner and down into the hole. Dorian removed himself from Celaena and smirked at her. See? If
you do it the right way, itll work.

Celaenas nose crinkled and she moved her mouth, silently imitating and mocking his words. He ignored her. Try it
again, he said, taking a cue off the wall. She positioned, aimed, andhit it. It shot all around the table, knocking into
random balls randomly. It was a terrible shot, but she hit it and that was the point. Dorian grabbed the positioning
triangle off the nearby table and held it up in the air.

Care for a game? He asked cheerfully.

A slow smile spread across the assassins face. If you dont mind losing to the goddess of billiards, then sure.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was two in the morning when they stopped. Dorian had never laughed so hard without the help of alcohol. This
woman was quite a piece of work! Dinner had been brought to them hours earlier, causing them to take a break
between games. He had won every game, yet Celaena had hardly noticed. She played with a randomness that kept
the games fascinating.

While they had played, the prince had caught up with her on all of the books that she had read while staying in the
palace. She had had a lot to say about them. It was as if she hadnt spoken a word in years and was afraid that shed
suddenly go mute again. In fact, Dorian had trouble getting a word in at one point because she was so passionately
ranting about the ending of one book.

But in the end he had enjoyed himself immensely. Why Chaol didnt spend more time with her was a mystery to him.
His friend did seem fond of her, yet he kept himself at a cold distance that Dorian knew Celaena noticed.

Personally, Dorian could have spent the entire night playing billiards, but Celaena was so tired that she claimed she
couldnt see. Her billiard skills were still horrendous, and her exhaustion didnt help them in the least.

He played billiards quite frequently with Chaol and some of the other young menbut their games were boring and
serious compared to the ones he that had played tonight with Celaena. At one point she threw the cue ball at the wall,
causing its ivory surface to crack so badly that he had had to call for another one.

He never knew that billiards could be such a destructive game. Every shot that she missed ended in a fiery rage from
Hell and every shot that she made resulted in such conceited, shameless bragging that Dorian couldnt help but laugh
at the two extremes on which she varied. A woman had never made him laugh before. Never.

But was she enjoying his company?

They had discussed books for the most part, but they had yet to delve into their personal lives. He had no idea who
she was, where she came from, or what her past was like other than that she had yelled at him the day before.
Perhaps they should wait for the next time they did this to do those questions. Dorian knew that he couldnt return
until next weekhe had too many important meetings with his father, advisors, and war officers to be able to set an
exact night when he could visit her again. But he intended to. Dorian looked at Celaena, who was cradling her head in
her arms on the pool table. Oh, yes, he would return.

He placed their cues back on the rack and gently shook Celaena awake. She groaned in protest. You may want to
sleep now, but in the morning, your body will sorely regret it, he said.

Barely opening her eyes, she stood up. Nice play on words, she muttered, shuffling to the door. When Celaena
nearly walked into the doorpost, Dorian decided that she wouldnt make it to her bedroom without breaking either
something or herself. He guided her to the desired location and watched her stagger into bed.
Your books are on the table in the foyer. Thank you for letting me borrow them she mumbled from her bed. She
closed her eyes and her breathing slowed. Was she really asleep? Dorian looked around her roomthree candles were
still burning. Sighing, he moved to blow them out and once the task was completed, he returned to her beside.

He stared at her face, so peacefully calm and serene in the moonlight that she looked like a statue. A beautiful,
beautiful statue

Diverting his eyes, Dorian watched the rise and fall of her chest. It wasnt any better.

Watching her sleep was like observing a resting predator in a menagerie. He had seen panthers, black as pitch, curled
on their sides, so feral and natural that he wished he could keep ten of them in his room. She slept with the same
kind of grace, as if she had unburdened her aggression and wildness and fallen back into a time when the world
wasnt howling at her heels, making her hunt and kill to survive to the next day.

Something flickered across her face, and the Crown Prince stared more intently. Yes, there was something about her
that made him feel strange, as if he had seen her before, if only in a passing glance, and could not remember how or
when.

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and left the room. As much as Prince Dorian hated to admit it, he was attracted to
this woman in more than a mental way. But she was Celaena Sardothien, the most dreaded assassin in the world.
Would her name and past always stand as a barrier between them?

Dorian looked at the neat stack of books on the marble table in the foyer.

If she was successful and gained her freedom and the clearance of her name, what would she do? Would she be the
same person that he knew now? That he knew and actuallyliked to be around? What would happen if she wasnt
chosen?

Dorian looked at the pile of books again.

Hed make sure that she was. Hed never allow for her to go back to the mines. Hed even go against his father to
keep that from happening. Hed buy her a house far away from Adarlana house with a billiards table and so many
books that it would take a lifetime to read all of themand hed find people to keep her company if he couldntso
that she wouldnt be lonelyand hed make sure that she always had everything she neededso that she would never
have to kill to survive ever again. He felt this need to protect her from a place surrounded in fog and shards of
memories, as if she had already done something for him that made him in her debt

Running his hands through his ebony hair, Prince Dorian picked up the stack of books and left her chambers, already
thinking about which ones to send her next.

CHAPTER 15

Roland DeHavilliard walked through the royal gardens, his hands resting casually in his pockets. It was sunset and the
fading light was magnificently reflecting off of the glass spires of the palace, throwing a golden hue into the air. He
liked to have these moments alone; away from the mindless chatter and heavy perfume of the women that he
surrounded himself with. His looks and charms allowed for him to seduce any woman that he wanted; yet Roland
sometimes got so tired and frustrated with them that he wished he could tear them to pieces.

Which was why he was alone at the moment.

An older member of the courtsome unnamed duchesshad actually had the nerve to approach him with an
invitation to her bed. He was not a whore for their amusement and pleasure. Roland liked to hunthe slept where he
choseinvited or not.

He was lucky that Dorian tolerated himRolands own father didnt. In fact, that was part of the reason that he was
here right now. If not for his dear mother, Rolands father would have thrown him out of the house a week ago. Some
bitch had come whining to his father, complaining that Roland had gotten her pregnant with child, and insisting that
he marry her before the bastard was born.

Of course, Roland hadnt caredhe didnt even recognize her. She wasnt a member of his mothers court, but she
claimed to be some rich merchants daughtera fact that his father had taken very seriously.
Despite being part of the immediate DeHavilliard family, Rolands father did not have as much money as others liked
to think. In fact, their fates rested on how well Roland could marryon how well that he could seduce.

Since Roland had refused to marry the woman, his father had claimed that if he didnt marry into a rich family soon
well, hed be thrown out. Rolands mother, in his defense, promised to bring Roland to Renaril to find a bride. At
dinner these past two nights he had looked for women he could possibly marryand had found none.

Despite what he had earlier told Dorian, Roland had very little faith in love. Especially when money was on the line.
Sure, some women struck him at first sight, but they very rarely lasted more than a week before he tired of them. In
that respect, he was very much like his cousin, if not worse. Dorian at least left them giftsRolandwell, what did he
leave other than an occasional baby?

Roland would have liked to believe that hed find his match, but somehow saying it was a lot easier than actually
believing in it wholly. Love and money were two things that did not go together. It was either his familys fate or
some woman. Hed go with money.

Sitting down on a stone bench alongside the gravel path, Roland ran through the list hed compiled in the past two
days of possible women to marry. The richest were always the most ugly and ancientcould he really stand marrying
a sack of wrinkles just to bring his father out of debt? What he wanted was a face that he wouldnt have to shut his
eyes against when he bedded her, but then againdidnt every man want that?

Roland smiled to himself.

There were nine lesser nobles in the palace right now. One of whom hed already met. Lithaen Gordaina. Hed never
heard of her before, so she couldnt be that rich.

However, he wouldnt mind being her lover until he found a suitable sack of sagging skin to wed.

What of Dorian? Was he already her lover?

No, hed seen Dorian interact with his loversshe definitely was not one of hisyet. But even if his cousin were
courting the Lady Lithaen, it wouldnt stop Roland from tasting her a little.

It was a dangerous thing to go after a woman that the Crown Prince of Adarlan had already marked as his own, but
Roland couldnt help it. It felt strangely thrilling to decide to poach on his cousins territory. Dorian didnt even suspect
how bad Roland had gotten in the past yearhe figured that he was some confused romantic.

Roland snorted. Like Hell I am.

A petite brunette passed by him, smiling at him meekly. She wasnt very pretty or refinedprobably a lady-in-waiting.
But shed do the job just fine.

Grinning, Roland stood up and followed after the woman. He hadnt been able to find the Lady Lithaen these past two
nights, but he was sure that this woman would ease some of the hunger that had grown inside him.

Tomorrow, the hunt began.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien strolled through the royal gardens, skillfully ignoring every word that Madam Tulrouse was saying
to them. The assassin knew that she should be listening, but how could she listen to a woman who was no smarter
than a rock? The woman had taken them outside for their lessons that day, declaring that they needed to observe
casual court life as well as formal. Gods above help me if I ever bowed too formally on a casual occasion, Celaena
thought with a smirk.

Celaena stopped and looked at a lovely bunch of yellow flowers along the gravel path. Their blue centers reminded her
of Prince Dorians eyes

She shook her head, embarrassed at her girlish silliness. It had been six days since their night of eccentric billiards
lessons and games. Celaena hadnt expected him to return; she hadnt even allowed herself to hope that he would. He
was the prince of the worlds most powerful country: why should he spend his time with her? He had more important
things to do. She shouldnt be spending her time with a DeHavilliard anyway, not after what they did to her

Despite her attempts to assure herself that their night had been a one-time occurrence and that nothing had passed
between them, Celaena had been genuinely pleased to see the stack of books outside her door the next morning. She
had read several of these, but the few that were foreign to her looked wonderfully interesting.

Celaena smiled down at the flowers and picked one off of the bush.

What makes you so happy? said Anuksun, who had dropped back to walk beside her at the end of the line. Celaena
looked at the exotic woman and blushed, hiding the flower behind her sky blue and lilac skirts.

The beautiful day and gardens, Celaena lied, motioning to their surrounding environment. Its cold, but the air is
refreshing. Unsure if Anuksun understood this, Celaena ran her hands up and down her covered arms as if she were
trying to warm up. Anuksun nodded and pointed down at her fur-lined boots.

I will get you a pair, then you will not walk upon the cold earth with your skinny shoes. Anuksun adjusted her skin-
tight pants, which she had been wearing since the weather had cooled off. Women here dress crazythey are like
tents.

Celaena laughed and stuck out her little foot from beneath her dress, dangling it in the air as she examined the purple
silk that her shoe was made out of. These are a bit silly, arent they? She cocked her head and winked at the
princess, who nodded in agreement. Celaena sighed and continued walking. The world would be a much warmer and
more comfortable place if we all had your way of thinkingand dressing, Anuksun. But, alas, were stuck with cold
feet and tents.

Tulrouse called for Anuksun, so the princess nodded and hurried forward to the front of the line, leaving Celaena
alone again. Celaena enjoyed the young womans company. She felt slightly bad at the guise that she had to keep up,
but Celaena felt that she put enough of her true personality into Lithaen Gordaina that it wasnt qualified as deceit.

Having Anuksun for a friend was wonderfulespecially now that she wasnt speaking with Chaol. Their next five
weaponry lessons had come from a complete stranger. He was some man from the army who instructed them on the
arts of climbing walls of all materials. Celaena, having been brought up on how to know how to do these things, was
the best out of all nine women. She didnt even need a rope to scale the thirty-foot stone wall.

The man had been in as much shock as the eight other women. It was wonderfully satisfying to use the skills which
she had spent her life refining. The most difficult had been the wooden wall, which had taken her about fifteen
minutes to figure out how to defeat and conquer. The others, even Anuksun, had taken a much long amount of time.

Kaltain Rompier had made a snide comment about how the savage beast from Eyputiusunn was rubbing off on her;
and it had taken all of Celaenas self-control and desire for freedom to keep from wringing her neck.

When this is all over, she thought to herself darkly, I am going to kill her in the slowest and most painful way I know.

The women in front of her stopped. Tulrouse was undoubtedly pointing out some other useless thing. Celaena turned
to the rose bush beside her and caressed a red petal with a finger. No cloth could ever match this softness; no
perfume could ever correctly imitate this scent. Thats all this high-class world is: an imitation, a mockery of pure
things. I wonder if they even realize it.

Lovely day, isnt it?

Celaena looked at the source of the voice and found herself standing beside that boy she had seen with Prince Dorian
six days ago.

Not him! Hes more of a womanizer than the Crown Prince! What was his name again? Rudyard? No, that was wrong.
It was something that began with an R. RiRaRo

Allow me to reintroduce myself, Lady Lithaen. I am Roland DeHavilliard, a cousin of Prince Dorian. You met me the
other day in the halls of the palace, I-
I remember you, Lord Roland, Celaena cut in sharply. She hadnt liked himhis pretty face hid too many things
behind those eyessomething about him had seemedwrong. Celaena returned to observing the roses, so intent on
focusing on only them that she didnt even see the eight other girls leaving.

You dont like me, do you? He asked with his suave voice.

Son of a bitch. Celaena turned her eyes to him without moving her head, her face deadly calm. Most people only saw
this face in the seconds before she killed them.

What did Dorian tell you? Roland breathed out, running a hand through his blond hair, unaware of the dangerous
creature before him.

Nothing, Celaena said, forcing down her killing-edge. He didnt bother to tell me anything about you.

Roland clicked his tongue and then raised an eyebrow. Why is it, Lady Lithaen, that you do not attend dinner with the
rest of the ladies with whom you aretraining? Ive looked for you every night since I first saw you, you know.

I dont go because of men like you, you stuck up, self-absorbed pig. Andbecause Im not allowed to. The Prince
believes its best for me to eat my meals alone, Lord Roland, she said coldly.

Roland winked at her, sending a wave of revulsion through Celaena. Keeping you all to himself, is he?

Celaena hissed through clenched teeth and prepared to follow after her missing group, but felt something sharp pierce
her forearm. Believing it to be nothing but a thorn, she didnt even look down to knock it aside with her hand. Instead
of falling away, it dug into another spot on her arm before it tried to settle itself in her hand.

It didnt take very long for her to realize what had happened, but by that time Celaena was gasping at the shooting,
throbbing pain that filled her arm and hand. She had been bitten by a wasp!

Celaena didnt bother with ladylike behavior. The string of profanities that burst from her mouth was worse than any
that a sailor could conjure. She needed something cold, she needed water

Lady Lithaen? Whats wrong? Rolands voice wasnt as self-assured as it had been moments before.

Water, she gasped, get me water and ice. Now. All that she could do was shut her eyes against the building,
aching pain. Gods above, make it stopShe wouldnt cry, it was just an insect bite

You, there! Roland called out. Fetch us some ice and a towel from the kitchen immediately! Bring it to the fountain!
Run, boy, or it shall be your hide! Celaena felt him grab her shoulder, keeping far away from her swelling hand. This
way, he said and led her on a speeding walk through the gardens. Heres a fountaincan you splash some water
on-

Celaena plunged both arms into the fountain, soaking (and probably ruining) her dress. She had kept her eyes barely
open so that she would not trip upon the gravel, but already tears of pain were barring her sight. To keep her tears
away, Celaena tried to take large, gasping breaths. But they would not come. Her corset was too tight!

The cool water barely helped the agony in her arm and hand.

Her chest desperately heaving itself up and down as it tried to push air through to her lungs, Celaena suddenly felt
very dizzy. That damn bug. I hope it died a gruesome death on the ground.

It hurt so muchnot enough airshe was dying

The last thing that Celaena remembered was her face rushing towards the water as she fainted.

CHAPTER 16

She what? Dorian looked up at the page that had rushed into the royal kennels, calling frantically for the Crown
Prince.
Fainted, my lord, the boy said breathlessly. I do not know many of the details, but Lord Roland told me to tell you
that your presence was required immediately.

He sighed, suppressing the smile that fought to rise to his lips, and patted the pregnant bitchs head gently,
whispering to her that hed return within the hour. Dorian stood up from where he had been sitting and wiped the
straw off his black pants before following after the page.

The bitch was in labor and appeared to be having a good deal of trouble about it. He had been called down early this
morning when the breeder had noticed how uneasily the hunting dog had slid into her birthing mode. Things had not
improved in the three hours that he had been sitting with her. The bitch was old, but not old enough to be having
such problems with delivering a litter. She had produced some of his best hounds, and he expected this batch of pups
to be as great as the dog that had finally sired them. The match was an excellent one and Dorian had been eagerly
awaiting the puppies that would result from ithe was determined to sit beside the bitch until she gave birthand
lived.

But if Celaena had faintedwell, that was something you didnt see every day! What had been the source of it? And
why was Roland, of all people, the one to fetch a page to find him? What did he do to her?

Dorian didnt know whether to be worried or to be amusedbut, either way, he hurried along after the page, urging
the boy to go faster.

By the time they reached Celaenas rooms, there was a group of three men around the unconscious assassin. They all
turned towards the prince and bowed their heads in acknowledgement. What happened? Dorian asked, moving to
her bedside. She lay in her dress, her golden hair spread across her pillows, a frown on her lips.

Her face is awfully pale

She was stung by a wasp, your highness.

Dorian blinked, then fought to keep from laughing.

A wasp? Adarlans Assassin fainted from an insect bite?

Where was she stung? his voice shook with suppressed laughter. Her frown now seemed absurd, and he wondered if
she was merely pretending to sleepperhaps as a way to avoid Roland DeHavilliards advances.

One of the two physicians spoke, his voice solemn as he scratched his graying hair. Twice on the arm and once on
the hand, your highness.

Dorians amusement ceased. Three bites? That might be serious, but not enough to make her faintThe physician
showed him the three red, swollen marks on her body. The red, angry mountains stood out against her ivory skin.

Do you have any idea what might have made her faint? Dorian asked seriously, watching Celaenas face.

So maybe shes not faking it.

People with allergies to bites like this often experience nausea, fever, extreme swelling, and hives, among many
other things, the other physician explained, but its very rare for them to lose consciousness, your highness.

So, what youre saying is that you have not the slightest clue.

Both doctors nodded their heads solemnly. But, your highness, one of them said, Im sure that she will awaken any
minute nowit appears to be nothing more than just a short fainting spell.

Dorian thanked the doctors and bid them farewell. They packed up their dark satchels and left her room, their dark
robes billowing around them.

Silence ensued as they closed the oak doors to her bedchamber, and Dorian looked up at Roland and then back at the
sleeping beauty. The blond-haired youth had a sour look on his face, and Dorian could not repress the surge off anger
that rose in his chest as he watched his cousin survey the assassin. There was a gleam in his eye, so unmistakable
now, a gleam that he had seen before.

His cousin had changed; there was no impossibility that the youth had altered for the worse. A shadow passed over
Dorians sapphire eyes. But how far down was his cousin on the Road of Corruption?

Dorian returned his gaze to Celaena, suddenly very, very uneasy. They say that they have no inclination as to why
she fainted, but the page tells me that you were there when it happened. Dorian did not bother to check his rising
agitation. So, tell me, cousin, why is it that the Lady Lithaen is soaked in water and is senseless? His voice was calm
too calm.

Roland tried to swallow, but found that his mouth was dry. Your highness, she was just looking at the flowers when I
saw herand then she was stung His oily voice had a bit of a whine to it that made Dorian grate his teeth.

What happened after that, Roland? Dorian snapped. If his cousin had caused her any anguish

She demanded water and iceso I brought her to a fountain and she literally stuck her entire torso in the water! She
seemed to be having trouble breathing, but before I knew it, she had passed out and was laying face-first in the bird
bath. All of this came out in a jumble of sorts, his attempt at charming the prince failed, but Dorian understood it for
the most part. His cousin had always disliked being questioned by anyone, especially the Crown Prince of Adarlan.

And that was it? Dorian asked.

Yes, Roland said, his eyes wide. I swear it!

For all of your court charm and grace, you certainly still remain the spoiled boy that I knew as a child.

Dorian nodded his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Celaenas face. Good day, Roland.

Rolands eyes flashed, but he kept them on the ground as he bowed and departed. Dorian did not fail to see the way
his cousin clenched and unclenched his fists, or the way that his pale skin had reddened in such an unattractive
manner. Yes, Roland knew that he had been doing something wrongwhy else would he have acted so defensively?

Oh, and Roland? Dorian called after him, his voice calm once again. Roland paused in the doorway, turning around,
a hand upon the pommel of his sword.

Dont be a fool.

If you ever cause her any trouble, Dorian said, ignoring the barely-concealed aggression that distorted Rolands
face, I will not be very forgiving.

Before the youth could reply, he turned back to Celaena, waiting to hear the door shut before moving closer to her. It
was so strange, seeing her asleep in daylight.

He felt as if he shouldnt have been there, as if there were something dangerous about being in a room, with the
closest guards two rooms away, with an assassin. They had had their fun, but she was still capable of

She seemed to have trouble breathing Rolands words replayed themselves in Dorians mind before he could allow
himself to fully realize the situation that he had placed himself in.

The prince looked at the assassins waist, keeping his gaze far away from her porcelain hands.

No stains, though there are some scarsProbably from

Dorian dragged his eyes back to her torso, which was so small in comparison to her broad shoulders. It looked
unnatural. When had had first seen her, he had remarked at her naturally broad frame, finding it oddly attractive,
despite her obvious signs of starvation. Now, having put on weight, he found her curves to be sensual, if not
statuesque. How did she manage to make her waist that slender when her bones were

He knew that ladies easily fainted when their stays were bound too tightly, but Celaena?
Dorian reached out a hand and touched her ribs, the blue silk and white lace of her dress smooth beneath his fingers.
Her body felt hard, like wood, and he pressed down to feel the boning that lined the miserable thing. He couldnt ever
imagine wearing one of these thingswhy were women so silly about fashion?

He watched her try to take the slow, deep breaths of sleep, but they were stopped by the corsets extreme binding.
Her chest barely rose and fell. In fact, it seemed like she was hardly able to breath at all.

In a sudden burst of panic and revulsion, Dorian drew his hunting knife and sliced open the front of the corset, silk
and lace ripping in a shrill cry.

Thankfully, Dorian didnt have to deal with the body that lay beneath, for she still wore the undershirt that most ladies
now could not be bothered to wear. Her breasts resumed their natural shape, and her entire torso seemed to melt
outwards. He pulled off the rest of the bodice from underneath her, lifting her arms awkwardly as he removed the
dress from, and threw it on the ground behind him, the many skirts and petticoats making a small, crinkling
mountain.

How absurd.

Relief flooded through him as Dorian watched her body breathe deeper, her mouth parting slightly to allow more air
in. He ran surprisingly shaky hands through his dark hair and closed his eyes. It disturbed him to see a wild creature
like Celaena Sardothien bound in such a way. It was like watching a caged animal pace relentlessly across its pen.

He felt obligated to sit with her, and he did not understand why. He felt as if he owed it to her, as if he was in her
debt for something she had done. Try has he liked, for the past few weeks, he could not shake this unnerving feeling.
It haunted him each time he thought of her, though he didnt dare to ask anyone if his odd feelings might be well-
placed.

Sighing, Dorian pulled up a chair from a nearby writing desk and sat down. Calling for a page to tell him if anything
should happen to the bitch in labor down in the kennels, the Crown Prince prepared to sit by the sleeping assassin
until she awoke.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Roland DeHavilliard leaned against the wall outside of Lady Lithaens rooms, breathing hard. Dorian had threatened
him; he had actually threatened him! It had been a terrifying experience, but in the end he had gained one thing.

He now knew where she slept.

Roland calmed himself and smiled. She couldnt hide from him anymore. He knew Dorians schedule; and he knew
that in the mornings and afternoons she was busy with those other eight women. That meant that every evening she
was alone.

True, she didnt like him, but that hardly mattered. He could make a woman want him regardless of whether she
cared for him or not. But then again

This was no ordinary woman.

He had never heard such vile words and curses come from a ladys mouth beforeor anyone elses for that matter.
And he had never thought that a lady would actually have the nerve to ruin her fine clothes.

Who was she?

She didnt have a well-known name, yet she claimed to be of noble blood. She didnt have mountains of gold, yet she
wore clothes that even some of the royal family couldnt afford. She talked like a court lady, yet she cursed like a
sailor.

What was Dorian hiding about her? The Lady Lithaen, if that was even her name at all, could easily be some peasant
who Dorian fancied enough to put on quite a good show over.

No, he would never actually bring one homeno matter how satisfying she was in bed.
Roland wanted to rush back into Lady Lithaens rooms and demand from his cousin an explanation of who she was,
but fear of the Crown Prince held him at bay. If Dorian discovered the true nature of his second cousin, Roland knew
that the Crown Prince would not be tolerant of him anymore. The prince assumed that Roland was like him and many
of the males in court: he chose beds to warm where he could and never treated the lover with disrespectto her face,
at least.

Dorian is a fool.

Tomorrow night Dorian was weighed down by a state dinner, an event that gave Roland the perfect opportunity to
investigate the case of the mysterious Lady Lithaenand to begin his dance of seduction.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian fidgeted in his chair, torn between returning to the bitch downstairs and staying beside the assassin. It had
been half an hour since he had left the dog, and the page had brought no ill news, but Dorian could barely sit still. If
he lost the bitch because he hadnt been there

But what if he lost the assassin because he hadnt been here by her side? He knew that it was only an insect bite, but
Dorian was afraid that some allergenic reaction might spring up and make her situation even worse.

He could send for someone to watch after her, but

Celaena made a soft noise and her eyelids fluttered. She was awakening!

Finally.

She opened an eye and groaned as she saw him. I didnt do anything bad, I swear, the assassin said, her words still
clouded with sleep.

Dorian smiled and helped her sit up. I know.

Celaena rubbed her eyes with her good hand, then stared around her rooms in disbelief. What are you doing here?
Her voice was more worried than it was inquisitive, and Dorian felt a shiver of pleasure rush down his spine.

For whos sake are you afraid?

Dorian pushed aside his sudden deviant urges and shrugged, keeping his voice pleasant. Lord Roland was distressed
at your condition, so he called me to your bedside to deal with the situation.

She yawned, and stretched out across her bed, her frame contorting as her muscles tensed and then relaxed. Beneath
her thin undershirt, he could see her frame moving, writhing, and the faint outline of what seemed like rose-colored
nipples.

Celaena, thankfully, didnt see the Crown Princes stare, and sat up as she finished awakening her body, examining
her arm with a frown. Im surprised he even stayed along long enough to see me pass out in the fountain. Thats
what I did, isnt it? She raised her eyes, and Dorian quickly moved his gaze to meet her stare.

Face first. He felt the top of his cheeks begin to burn ever so slightly.

Shit, Celaena spat; then blinked, catching herself too late. I mean -

Dorian shook his head, regaining control of himself. Its not a problem. Its refreshing to hear profanities coming from
a woman.

She smiled, but then, looking down at herself, Celaena frowned. Where are my clothes? Her tone was almost
accusatory.

Destroyed, I believe, Dorian said suavely. Your corset is over there behind me. You appeared to be having
problems breathing, so I took the liberty of removing it. He flashed her his most charming smile.
She did not return it. Instead, she craned her neck to look at the ruined bodice, scowling. Dorian took this as an
opportunity to survey her form once again. Yes, her breasts were smaller than he normally preferred, but they had a
kind of conical shape to them that made them look

You tore it to pieces.

Dorian almost leapt out of his chair, but controlled himself, now looking at her amused face, and wrinkled his nose.
His heart was beating extremely quickly.

It was necessary. You couldnt breathe.

Get control of yourself!

She grrowled. I can breathe just fine in that.

How tightly do you have them fix your stays, Celaena?

They tie them as tightly as they can, she said with a snarl. I, unlike every other woman here, was not born with a
naturally slender figure.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. Even an assassin could be self-conscious!

Doesnt it hurt? He had seen bruises on the ribs of women he had bedded; he had even heard them whispering to
each other of broken ribs due to the harsh boning.

Of course it hurts, but I cant do anything about it.

Celaena, you couldnt breathe.

So?

Let me look at your ribs. He couldnt resist.

What? she snapped, clutching the bed sheet to her chest.

Dont get modest with me, he retorted, You prance around your rooms in your undergarments! Just let me look at
them.

I refuse.

Dorian stood up and towered over her. Its not like Im going to do anything to you. I used to check and mend
broken bones all the time when I was youngersword fighting, you see. I just want to make sure you dont have any
broken bones.

Thats impossible. Id know if my bones were broken. She shimmied further away from him on her bed as he
reached out to grab a hold of her.

Just let me see, damn you.

Ill pass.

Youll let me look or Ill send you back to the mines.

She went still. Her skin paled. You wouldnt dare.

Youre disobeying the Crown Prince of Adarlanthats a good excuse to tell my father that youre unsuitable to follow
his orders.

Her eyes blazed, though he did not fail to see the amusement that rested upon her lips as color returned to her face.
You see right through me, dont you?

Fine, she snapped, and moved back towards the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes and lifted up her undershirt
high enough to expose her stomach and rib cage nothing else. Despite her willingness to play along with him, Dorian
felt a pang of guilthe should not have used that threat on her. Perhaps he should call a doctor

Dorians eyes fell upon her snow-white body.

Let the doctor burn in Hell.

He sat upon the edge of the bed and looked at her ribs. They were bruisedand badlynear the bottoms of her
breasts. He could still see the red, imprinted lines of the boning on her torso. Dorian reached out a hand and gently
touched the lower half of one side of her rib cage, his fingers barely brushing her skin.

It was so soft

He could feel her heart pounding against her chest, so quickly that Dorian didnt have to look to know how fiercely she
was blushing. He couldnt stop himself.

His hand felt its way up her side, strumming the bones of her ribs. He became extra-gentle when he reached the top
of the bone structure, where the bruises lay. She inhaled sharply, whether from pain or pleasure he never knew. His
thumb brushed the underside of a breast, so silky and smooth that his hand sought to hold it in his hand.

Before Dorian could act as he naturally would have under the circumstances, he removed his hand and went to the
other side of her body, repeating his test. Her breath was coming quicker now. The prince smirked. He had her under
his complete control.

I just want to play a little.

He leaned over her, placing both hands upon either side of her rib cage and gently massaged and caressed her sides.
Her skin moved beneath his hands, though his hands were gentle against the bones that jutted into his palms like a
washboard. He looked at her face, which was now directly below his, and lowered himself closer to her, his fingers
getting closer and closer to

She opened her eyes and stared straight into his. Dorian retreated back, startled by the expressionless look he saw
within them. Her breathing returned to normal. The Prince removed his hands slowly and put her undershirt back in
place. He sat down on his chair.

No broken bones, I take it? she asked coyly. Had she known what he was doing? Had she allowed for him to touch
her like that? Had she enjoyed it?

Dorian shook his head, slightly embarrassed. None. But your bruises are pretty extreme. He watched her raise
herself into a sitting position once more. Her eyes emptied themselves of that cold, hollow look and regained some of
their sparkle.

Again, she said with a sigh, theres nothing to be done about it.

Dorian looked at her slender form. Youre thin enoughwhy do you need to wear one?

Her mouth popped open. Youre kidding with me, right?

No.

I wonder how beautiful your body looks when its not stained with bruises, assassin.

The thought struck him. How beautiful would she look without those bruises and unnecessary pain? How much better
would any woman look without them?

I forbid for you to wear a corset ever again, Celaena Sardothien.

She looked as if she were about to faint again. Pardon me?

A sleepy smile spread across Dorians face. Thats right. Youre banned from using them.

Her face turned such a deathly white that she looked dead. You cant do that, she whispered.

Im the Crown Prince of Adarlan, I can do anything.

You cant do that! she cried, her face turning red. Her skin color changed so fast that she resembled a chameleon.

I-- Dorian began, but the girl cut him off.

She grabbed onto the front of his shirt, pulling half of him onto her bed. Dorians heart beat against his chest. You
dont understand, she snarled, I need to wear it.

She wouldnt kill him over a corset, would she? No, Celaena had more sense than that. Dorian, gaining confidence
from this, tried to gently remove her from him. Whys that, my dear assassin?

Celaena shook him. Every lady in this stupid society wears them! Even the monstrously sized ones use them to have
waists smaller than my natural one! Can you imagine what it would look like if I wore a dress without anything to
support me? Id look like a cow!

You look slender to--

Who cares what you think? What matters is what Tulrouse and the other members of your court think! If I dont pass
off as a lady to them, I dont get my freedom! Do you understand that? If I dont wear a corset, I have to go back to
the mines! If I dont wear a corset, Im going to die!

Dorian wanted to laugh at this, but he knew better than to chuckle when Adarlans assassin had him by the collar and
was on the verge of a panic attack.

Without a corset, my waist will be too wide and my breasts will be too small. I will look likelikelike someone who
isnt a lady!

Your breasts are quite alluring as they are, Celaena. Dorian bit down on his bottom lip in embarrassment. He had let
that one slip.

You. Dont. Understand. Her voice was cracking.

Im not going to have you kill yourself over this!

If I dont, Im going to wind up dead anyway!

You idiotic, non--

Thousands of women have done this for years! A few months of this is not going to kill me!

Why did she keep on interrupting him? If shed just shut up, Id tell her that Im not going to let her go back to the
mines.

Celaena, I--

You have to let me wear one! She buried her face in between her outstretched arms, moaning with despair.

Dorian considered telling her his plan for her future, but stopped. If he told her now, would she treat him the same?
What if this was all an act to get what she wanted? What if this was deceit and once she obtained her desired prize,
shed change completely? Dorian didnt want it to end. He liked her this way, deceit or not, and he wasnt ready to
give up the most interesting woman he had ever met.
Fine, wear the stupid thing, he said sharply. But if I ever find another bruise upon your body from it, Ill burn every
corset in this city.

Celaena looked up, her nose almost touching his and smiled. Im glad you see things my way, she said, releasing
him. She looked down at her hand. Ha! My wasp bites dont hurt that much!

Dorian snorted. It seemed a bit silly for a woman of your magnitude to faint due to a few stings.

She beamed at him. It hurt like a bitch she paused, but continued, softer, when it happened.

Dorian stood up and ruffled her hair before he walked to the doorway. Im sure it did, Celaena.

The assassin yawned and lay down again. Good day, my Prince, she mumbled and turned over onto her back.
Dorian froze in the doorway. He wanted to stay, oh gods above how he wanted to stay, to climb into her bed beside
her. The Prince turned around, staring at the sensual curves of her behind.

He stopped as soon as his eyes fell upon her back, almost bare from the low-scooped neck of her undershirt. There
were fine white lines scattered across the bumps and hollows, some thicker and longer than others. They were placed
with random cruelty, some of them at such a sharp angle that Dorian could only imagine the blow behind them.

Dorian stared for some time. They seemed to burn into his eyes, growing larger and more gruesome.

The scars became a wall, a massive, thick wall barring him from her side. She was a beautiful and fascinating woman,
but she was still an assassin. She had killed politicians, many of whom he had known, and those scars were her
punishment. She had slaughtered dozens, and those marks were a testimony to it. She was still a sleeping tiger.

Dorian took a step back. He was Dorian DeHavilliard, Adarlans Crown Prince. She was Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans
assassin. An affair with her, mental or physical, was out of the question.

He left her rooms and headed back down to the royal kennels, the image of her chalk-white scars still blazing in his
mind.

CHAPTER 17

Chaol Wydrael paced in the halls of the north wing of the palace. He had been stalking up and down the marble-
floored hallway for the past half of an hour, unable to make up his mind.

If he went forward, he neared her rooms; if he went in the other direction, he headed away from them. Reaching one
end of the hallway, he ran his hands through his brown hair and turned on his heel, walking in the direction that he
had just come from. Chaol was thankful that he had dismissed the guards from her doorit would not do for them to
see their captain acting like such a fool.

It had been eight days since he had last spoken to her; seven days since he had last seen her; and in the six days
that he had been completely without her, Chaol had to admit that he missed her company.

She was a fascinating womanbut a dangerous one. Her fell past and profession were part of her allure, but as
Captain of the Royal Guard, he had to keep that a barrier between them. Chaol knew that it hurt her to be treated
with such distance, which was partially why he was pacing down her hallway.

At first he had been amused by her anger, but after he had seen her purposefully ignore him that day in the garden,
Chaol had taken it a bit more seriously. He hadnt thought that an Adarlans assassin could possibly be offended or
hurt by his behaviorshe had to realize that it was necessary to take such precautions with a girl of herreputation.

Chaol knew how much the prospect of freedom meant to herhe knew what it had been like for her in the mines. She
would never try to do anything stupid while staying at the palace. He trusted her, for the most partbut the duties
that had been assigned to him by the king came first.

However, Dorian had encouraged him to go apologize to herin fact, the Crown Prince had come near to commanding
him to. Chaol Wydraels own shyness had caused him to refuse at first, but after Dorian had laughed at him for being
so ridiculous (for it was only her), Chaols pride had caused him to storm up to her rooms.
Here I am, he thought to himself. And Im still acting like a fooljust go in there and apologize! Chaol gritted his teeth
as he reached the end of the hallway. Would she even listen to him? He had to take the chanceit would not do to
have Adarlans assassin mad at him.

He was about to turn around when someone walked by him. As her chambers were the only ones at the end of this
hallway, he knew where the figure was headed. Chaol spun around and looked at the figure, startled, but not
surprised, at who he saw.

Roland DeHavilliard.

Chaol followed after the boy, his hand resting upon the pommel of his sword.

Roland stopped at her door and raised a hand to knock.

What do you think youre doing? Chaol asked, leaning casually against the marble wall beside the door. Roland
looked at him, surprise written across his face. Not even the youths good ears had been able to hear Chaol
approaching.

Surprise turned into a sly look and Roland smirked at the young lord. Just visiting, he said.

Visit somewhere else, Roland, Chaol said bluntly. Unlike Dorian, Chaol read Rolands character clearly. He was a
sniveling, conceited, and disrespectful boy who treated his horses better than his women. He had always been so, but
now he had become just like every male in court.

Roland lowered his hand and faced Chaol. Tell me, he said, has Dorian sent you to guard the Lady Lithaen or are
you her lover?

Chaol, normally calm and reserved in situations like these, felt his temper rising. Assassin or not, no woman should
have to deal with Roland DeHavilliard. The Lady Lithaen belongs to no one but herself, he said calmly.

Just answer the question, Lord Chaol. Roland knew of Chaols pastas many of the DeHavilliard family did, and
occasionally used it to mock him either behind his back or to his face. Soldiers were not looked well upon by those
who did not condescend to fight for their riches.

She is neither my nor Dorians lover. The Lady Lithaen is a guest here, visiting from

Why do you keep her locked up?

Thats none of your business.

Roland exaggerated a sigh and put a hand on the doorknob. Well, if you wont tell me, I guess Ill have to go find out
for myself.

Chaol put a hand against the wooden door and stared at Roland, his green eyes glowing like wisps of flame. Keep
away from her, he snarled.

Who are you to tell me what to do? You gave up your title, remember? The Captain of the Guard has no power over
me, though Im sure that the Baron Wydrael would have, Roland sneered, and let his hand drop to the handle of his
rapier.

If the door hadnt opened at that moment, Chaol probably would have run the youth through with his sword. They
both moved away from the doorway, their faces trying to hide their boiling tempers as Celaena Sardothien popped her
head out, her long hair falling in a wave. Assassin or not, she was still a lady and protocol required that she not see
the quarrel that was written across their faces.

She stepped out into the doorway, clothed in her undergarments, as usual. Chaol couldnt help but show his anger as
he saw Rolands eyes travel across her body. His grip on his sword tightened.

Is there something the she halted her words when her eyes fell upon their dark faces. She winced and stepped
back into her rooms, nodding her head as she began to close the door. Chaol put his foot in the door, preventing her
from closing it. He fought the wince that came to his face as the heavy thing squeezed his booted limb. Just a
moment, Lady Lithaen.

Her eyes darted to his face, wide with something that bordered between shock and humiliation. He hadnt meant to
embarrass her any further

I bid you goodnight, Lord Rolandenjoy dinner with the Duchess of Finntierland, Chaol said with forced courtesy,
bowing slightly. Celaena took a step inwards, hiding herself behind the door. Roland stared at Chaol for a moment,
and the Captain of the Guard felt the urge to pound his head into the marble floor.

But he did nothing, and instead slid inside her door, closing and locking it behind him. From outside, he heard Roland
curse severely as he walked away. Chaol smiledhe had wonthis round at least.

The smile faded from his face as he turned around. She was standing beside the table where they had dined so often,
watching him with a face of stone. What if she kicked him out? What if she refused to listen?

Ill make her listen.

Celaena, look, I

Im sorry, she blurted out, taking a step towards him. Chaol blinked. Im sorry that I spoke so harshly to you and
Im sorry for not apologizing sooner, Lord Chaol, I just thought that you would not want to hear itI was afraid that I
had offended you; and since you didnt come to our lesson the next day and you did not come to dine with me, I
figured that

Chaol laughed, scratching his head. How long had this been pent up within her? I was about to say the same thing to
you, actually. You see, I did not come to visit you because I assumed that you would be too upset with me to want
my company. It was so strange to be apologizing to an assassin.

Dorian and I must be going mad.

She shook her head and grinned, her cheekbones defining her face as it lit up with relief. Well, you know what they
say about assuming.

Chaol raised an eyebrow. What was she talking about?

When you assume, she continued, you make an ass out of u and me.

He chuckled. So, Im forgiven?

As long as I am.

They shared a timid smile, which then turned into a mutual laugh.

Oh, Celaena, Celaena

Her name was too personal, it made them feel too close

She took a seat at the table and crossed her legs. So, what was that business with Lord Roland all about?

Chaol pulled up a chair and shrugged. He and I dont really get along together.

I can tellnow, tell me why you two were about to cut out each others throats.

Chaol coughed. Should he tell her? She should probably know about Rolands intentions for her You do realize that
Roland has an infatuation with you, Sardothien.

She laughed bitterly. Infatuation? Id rather not beat around the bush, Chaol.
Damn. She knows. Then you know why he was coming to your rooms? You werent foolish enough to invite him to
your bed, were you, Celaena?

I wish I didnt; but yes, I think I have an inkling as to why he was here.

Chaols brows lowered. What would you have done if I hadnt been here? Would you have accepted him into your
bed if he had pushed you enough about it?

I wouldnt have opened the door.

What about when you see him during the day? What do you do then? Do you pretend to enjoy his company as the
Lady Lithaen? Do you allow for him to attempt to seduce you? Do you flirt with him shamelessly or do you turn away
and walk in the other direction?

She frowned, her good mood waning. I dont see why this should be of any concern to you, Lord Chaol. I can handle
him just fine.

Do you know how he treats women, Sardothien? Dont believe that you are immune from his charms just because
youre an assassin. Ive seen him seduce women that have less passion than a rock.

Sparks were snapping in her blue eyes. And what if I chose to accept him into my bed, Lord Chaol? Would you send
me back to the mines for that? Or perhaps youd send me back just for even considering it, since I was, and always
will be, an assassin to you.

No! Youre taking things the wrong way! SardothienCelaena

She stood up from her chair and glared at him with eyes full of anger and hurt. Why cant you just see past what I
used to be? Im not an assassin anymore! Its been almost three years since I was caught, dont you believe that Ive
paid my dues?

No, he said before he could think. Shit.

Her face went white with disbelief. She turned around sharply and pulled her hair to one side, exposing her bare back.
Isnt that enough? she yelled, pointing to the scars on her body. Two and a half years of daily whippings,
malnutrition, abuse, and humiliation. Your king was right: it was far worse than any death sentence he could have
given me. She whirled back to him, her face alight with passion. I died every day. I died every day to be reborn the
next morning and executed by nightfall. Do you have any idea what that is like? Do you have any idea how it feels to
never see the sun and to wonder each night if you should just ask the person sleeping beside you to strangle you?
He could see tears welling up in her eyes as she panted, trying to catch her breath and keep the waterworks from
flowing.

But you survived, Celaena Sardothien. You did not break. You died a thousand deaths to be reborn into the woman
that you are today. Forgive me, milady, he said quietly. Im afraid that I am placing my profession before our
relationship. I will not trouble you any more about it.

It sounded stupid and awkward, but it worked.

Seeing his dignified, calm apology and composure, her face softened and her breathing eased. Thank you, she said,
sitting down again. You know, Chaol, she began, slowly, carefully. I really appreciate you defending me from
Roland.

Chaol raised his eyebrows. Who said anything about defending you from Roland?

She smiled slowly at him and winked. Why else would you have been about to duel with him in front of my
chambers?

You were eavesdropping, werent you? Believe what you like, Sardothien, but I can assure you that there is no ill-will
between
Horseshit, she grinned wickedly. I hate the bastard as much as you do. I bet that he was the one who planted that
wasp on my arm.

Chaol snorted. I heard about thatare you feeling better now?

She held out her arm and the injured hand. Im fine. Theyre just little red marks nowa little sore, but all right.

Im glad to hear it.

He watched her prop her elbows up on the table and rest her chin on the cup that she made with her hands. Yulemas
is fast approaching, you know. Who is going to be your Yule-time sweetheart?

Chaol blushed at the question. He had never really participated in the activities of the darkest month, despite Dorians
continuous urgings. The tradition of taking a lover to warm to a cold bed during the month of darkness sounded a bit
stupid to him. He had had offers in the past, but he had always turned them down. He didnt have time for a lover. I
dont celebrate Yulemas, he said shortly. I never have.

She frowned. A handsome fellow like yourself wont even delight in taking a lover for the month?

He frowned. What were these questions? Im not like the Crown Princeand most of the males in this court. I have
duties to my King that I can never be free of, so taking a lover as you have so eloquently called it, is out of the
question.

But Yulemas is the time when youre supposed to put aside all of your work and delight in the warmth of the fireand
your bedmate.

Not for the Captain of the Guard.

I bet that youre just too bashful to do it.

Bashful? Maybe. Its a ridiculous tradition amongst adults, if you ask me.

Well, I didnt, did I?

Why do you want to know all of this anyway? Chaol raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. Im just trying to figure you out a little bit. Youre a strange young man, you know.

He bit down on his lip. Strange? No one had ever called him that. Idiotic, yes, but strange, no. And tell me,
Sardothien, do you take part in the Yulemas traditions?

It was her turn to blush. If you mean do I give and receive gifts, then yes. But if you mean do I take on a lover,
no, I do not.

Chaol suppressed a smile. Youre a hypocrite, you know.

She turned up her nose and looked away. At least I celebrate a little.

Shaking his head, Chaol sighed. I missed you, Celaena

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol looked down at Dorian DeHavilliard with amusement. You didnt waste any time getting down here, I see.

The prince looked up at him and grinned, petting the bitch on the head. He was still wearing the clothes that he had
worn to the banquet tonight; the jacket and crown were now tossed in a corner of the hay-covered stall. His collar
was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows as he gently stroked the head of one of the newborn
pups. I tried to speed the dinner along as quickly as possible, but Duke Perringtonn would not stop rambling about
the problems with having nine girls running around the palace grounds in their undergarments. I told him that the
men loved it, but he insisted that he and the rest of the court would rather have them wearing mens clothing than
their underwear. So, now our girls are going to have to fret about from going to indecent to cross-dressing.

That should be interesting to watch. Chaol stepped over the stall door and took a seat across from Dorian against
the wall.

The Crown Prince looked down proudly at the five puppies and then at their exhausted mother. I told you that theyd
all make it, he said with a grin.

You never cease to amaze me, Dorian.

The Princes eyes turned sad. Shes still weak from labor, but shell recover. Unfortunately, the breeder informed me
an hour ago that if she bore another litter, it might be the end of her.

Im sorryI know how excellent a mother and animal she was, Chaol said.

Dorian shook his head sadly. Ill just have to make the best of this last group of them. Even the sixth.

The sixth?

Dorian sighed and picked up a little lump of gray flesh and fur that had been hiding in his shadow. A runt. Its barely
alive, but it refuses to die. I expected it to die while I was at dinner, but Junn tells me that it held on pretty well. I
was afraid that there would be one like this in the litterits a runt and its color is slightly off. See, theyre all
beautifully black dogs, but this ones color is more of a charcoalyou cant tell now because its too dark in this stall.
Its not much of a difference, but its a difference all the same. I dont know what Ill do with it, Chaol. I dont have
the heart to kill it, not after the bitch went through all of that trouble to bring it into this world; but its not going to be
a part of my hunting pack. Itll always be weaker and smaller than the othersits a pity.

Chaol stroked the head of a random sleeping blob of black hair. Perhaps you could give it to some lover of yours as a
reward. Im sure shed love a yapping puppy instead of a pot of sparkling jewels.

Dorian laughed. Itd be the first hunting-dog-turned-lap-pet in the history of Adarlan. Imagine the size of the woman
that would be needed to fit this animal onto her lap. Itd have to be someone the size of the Duchess of Finntierland.
Both boys laughed.

But, seriously, Dorian continued, what shall I do with it?

Yulemas is approaching, you know. Why not give it as a gift?

Dorian snorted. Im sure that would say the right thing. Here: have this dog because its not good enough for me.

Dorian, most people dont even know the difference.

The Prince sighed. Id have to give it to someone who would appreciate it and be its companion. Someone whod love
it despite the fact that its a runt and has bad coloring.

Im sure that any of the lads who work in the kennels would love to have it.

Dorian pursed his lips. No, that wont work either. Im not about to give away a dog of this breed, runt or not, to just
anyone.

How about Junn?

Ive given him plenty of fine animals over the yearshe doesnt need another, especially one that wont be useful to
him.

Hmm. They were silent for a while. Dorian called for some bread, crackers, cheese, and wine to be brought to them,
for it was now nearing midnight. Both young men devoured the snack at lightning speed.
Chaol watched Dorian feed the bitch some of his cheese, caressing her head like a lover. The Crown Prince loved his
dogs more than some of his friends. Dorian had never really been one to get personal with his male companions and
always preferred (nine out of ten times) playing and hunting alongside his hounds to real, human company. Except
when Chaol and women were involved.

Chaol picked up the runt of the litter and held it in his lap, drawing the blanket that kept it warm closer around it.
Where would this animal go after it had been weaned? Who would love it unconditionally and give it all the attention
and companionship it needed?

What about Sardothien? Chaol asked suddenly. Dorian looked at him and cocked his head. Chaol continued. Why
dont you give it to her as a Yulemas gift? It should be weaned by that time. You told me that shes lonely, andwell,
a dog would be a suitable companion for her.

Dorian considered this for a while, taking a bite out of his cracker. What if she doesnt want a dog? And besides,
shes not around during the dayhow will it get the exercise it needs? And what if she goes to Wendlyn? Who will
take care of the dog then? No, Celaena is not suitable for the pup.

Chaol yawned and put the puppy down. It was just a suggestion. More silence. Dorian finished eating his cracker
and reached for another one. Chaol remembered why he had come to see the young man in the first place. I caught
Roland trying to get into her rooms tonight.

The cracker that the Crown Prince was holding broke into little bits. He what? Dorian snapped. Chaol bit down on his
lip, wishing that he hadnt told his friend.

I was walking down her hallway and I saw him headed down to her rooms. I stopped him, of courseDorian, dont
look like thatI think I sufficiently scared him.

She didntinvite him to her rooms, did she? he asked softly, looking at the sleeping bitch. Chaol looked at his face
and was taken aback by the anger he saw kindling in the Princes eyes. Why does Dorian care anyway?

No, Chaol said slowly. She dislikes him immensely.

Good, Dorian said curtly.

Chaol knew that if he made a joke about his protective behavior, Dorian would not find it funny. You should get some
rest, Dorian. The bitch and her pups are fineeven the runt. Ill see to it that Junn looks after them tonight.

The Prince hesitated, but then nodded and climbed out of the stall, Chaol following suit. Dorian DeHavilliard looked at
the sleeping dogs and exhaled. Chaol, placing a hand on his friends back, escorted him out of the kennels, unable to
get the image of Dorians blazing eyes out of his head.

CHAPTER 18

Celaena Sardothien sat by one of the many massive glass windows that lined her bedroom and watched the snow
falling outside. There was only a week until Yulemas left, and the world was frosted in the sparkly-white snows of
winter. The balmy, warm autumn that they had enjoyed had turned into a harsh, freezing winter in only a week. She
pulled her blanket closer around her, the heat of the roaring fireplace not adequately reaching her seat by the
window.

Milady, here is the tea that you asked for. Be careful, for it is scalding hot. The maid placed the steaming cup on the
table beside Celaena.

Thank you, Farana, she replied, and picked up the cup and saucer.

Are you feeling any better, milady? the woman asked.

Celaena shook her head. The cramping has yet to cease, but hopefully this tea will ease some of the pain.

Will you be requiring anything else, milady?

No, thank you, Celaena said and dismissed the maid. She placed the teacup back down, deciding it was too hot to
drink, and put a hand on her belly. The cramping had begun this morning when she had awoken to an extremely
bloated and sore belly. It had been a sign of some relief, for while working in the mines, her moonblood had stopped
all together.

In the two months that she had been free from the darkness of Endovier, Celaena had gained so much weight that
she was afraid she was bordering on pleasantly plump. Despite Prince Dorians constant reassurance that she was
still thin, Celaena couldnt help but feel like a cow in a dress. It didnt help that she was also always hungry.

Or the fact that my stomach is so swollen right now that I resemble a woman with child , she thought depressingly.
Unable to fit into her corset under such conditions, Celaena Sardothien had sent down to Madam Tulrouse a note that
explained her ill condition. The batty woman had replied quickly, telling Celaena to take all the time she neededfor
she understood how it felt to have difficulty with such matters.

Stupid whalewhen was the last time you had your moonblood?

She scowled and returned her gaze to the falling snow. The snowflakes sparkled and danced beyond the glass panes,
twirling and weaving in and out of each other as they flew to the ground in a waltz that was beyond human
comprehension.

I heard that you were feeling a bit unwell, so I thought Id come to make sure that you werent dead. It was Chaol.
It had been a month and a half since they had made their apologies, yet the young man still kept his distance. This
displeased her, but Celaena knew better than to hope for anything more. He still came to visit her several times a
week, and often walked with her from one lesson to another (for she was no longer escorted from place to place).

There was now a wide array of physical trainers that kept on pouring in for their combating sessions, several of whom
were men sent straight from the front. Nothing had changed in her lessons with Tulrouse except for the fact that
woman seemed to have taken Celaena, or rather the Lady Lithaen, under her wing. This was well and good, for
Celaena needed all the help that she could get (and the extra support when it came down to the final selection), but
the woman was sometimes so ridiculously daft that the assassin wondered if her freedom was worth it.

You look fine to me, Chaol said dully. Just slightly freezing.

Celaena gave him a dirty look and adjusted herself in the large chair, her stomach beginning to protest from being in
one position for too long.

Im a bit indisposed at the moment, she said. Id appreciate it if you took your leave. She looked at his face. There
seemed to be so many unspoken thoughts

Roland hasnt been troubling you, has he?

Her face colored and Celaena shook her head quickly. In the past seven weeks, she had kept far away from the lusty
young man, hiding or walking in another direction whenever he approached. He made her uneasyand Chaol hadnt
bothered to leave out any of the details about Rolands character.

Then, by the gods, what can possibly be the matter?

She looked at him, her blush deepening. I, uh

What?

You buffoon! How can you be so clueless? Its my moon-time.

The color of his face changed to match hers. He blinked several times, and ran a hand through his brown hair. In that
caseuh, IIll leave you. Chaol bowed and left the room as quickly as his feet could carry him without running,
tripping slightly in the doorway as he staggered into the rooms beyond.

Celaena took a sip of her tea and cursed as it burnt her tongue, almost dropping the cup onto her lap in surprise. Men
were so silly when it came to these things. It was nothing to be embarrassed aboutjust something that needed to be
respected.
She exchanged the saucer for the book that lay on the table beside her and snuggled down between the cushions of
the chair and the warm folds of blanket, hoping that the written world would take her mind off of the twisting pain in
her belly.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Kaltain Rompier looked in the mirror with satisfaction at what she saw. She was absolutely perfect. From her ebony
hair to her ivory skin, Kaltain Rompier found herself to be as flawless as a porcelain doll. Which was why she was
treated like one.

Despite her small rooms, Duke Perringtonn had managed to provide her with lovely furnishings, even lovelier jewels,
and extremely expensive perfumes. She hated the old boar, but he was her only shot at gaining a throne beside
Dorian DeHavilliard.

As long as she kept the fat fool happy, shed continue dining in court (near the Crown Prince) and would continue to
receive wonderful, meaningless gifts from Perringtonn. Kaltain dreaded the day that he would propose to her, but
hoped by the time that day came, shed have Dorian DeHavilliard so wrapped around her finger that she wouldnt
mind telling the Duke off.

If only that wretched Lithaen Gordaina would get out of the picture.

Kaltain hated her more than any person she had ever knownno one tossed away an offer of friendship from her
without consequence! Lithaen had humiliated Kaltain to the point where forgiveness was not an option. The witch had
managed to ensnare The Crown Prince for her own devices and seemed to have befriended that disgusting, savage,
worthless cow that dared to call herself a princess.

Scheming little slut.

In the past two months, Kaltain had taken enough abuse from the impertinent no-name girl who seemed to have the
Crown Prince tripping all over himself for her. How dare she interfere with her plans?

Now was the time to put to use the face and charms that had been granted to her by the gods. If she didnt make a
move now, the bitch would have her claws dug so tightly into Dorian DeHavilliard that there would be no hope for the
title of Queen for Kaltain Rompier.

Milady?

Kaltain turned to the maidservant, irritated at being snapped out of her reverie. What is it? she hissed, her dark
eyes flaming.

The woman took a step back in fear, her hands trembling slightly. You deserve the harsh side of my tongue, you
pathetic excuse for a human being.

It was justjustt-that The servants tongue stalled and stumbled. She looked like an animal about to be
slaughtered. I should just slit your throat and put you out of your misery.

Speak. You wear my patience thin. Kaltain picked up the glass brush that Duke Perringtonn had sent her and idly
stroked her own long black hair.

Idiots like these should not be serving in this palace. Only the best should be used here, in the capital of the greatest
and most powerful country in the world.

Of which I shall soon be Queen.

You asked me to inform you of the Crown Princes actionsand I just received information that he has gone to the
Lady Lithaens room once more.

Fury and jealousy surged through Kaltain Rompier with blinding speed. With a scream of hatred, Kaltain took the
glass brush in her hands and hurled it against the wall across from her, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The maid
gave a startled cry and then fled from the room.
Why wouldnt he come to her rooms one night? She flirted with the Crown Prince enough to entice him to visitwhat
did Lithaen Gordaina have that she didnt?

Nothing. She has no superior qualities. She is an common whore who the Prince will soon tire of. I have nothing to
fear.

Yet, despite her own reassurance, Kaltain felt a knot of growing dread bloom within her. What if she didnt win the
hand of the Prince? The thought of marrying Duke Perringtonn made her sick to her stomach.

I will be Queen. I was raised to be nothing one.

Kaltain closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. I wont allow for anyone to get in my waynot even Lithaen
Gordaina.

She opened her eyes and smiled, a plan already forming in her mind. She knew just the trick to get the Prince out of
Lithaens bed and into hers.

CHAPTER 19

Ive already told youI dont feel well!

You look absolutely fine to me.

Go rule your country or something.

Just a few games of billiards.

No.

I command you to play at least three games of billiards.

I refuse.

You will play with me or I shall be forced to take extreme measures.

Bite me.

Fine, just a game then.

Sorry, I have prior engagements.

Like what?

Celaena sipped her third cup of ginger tea and smiled wickedly at the Crown Prince. Are you that desperate? Thats
pathetic, she sneered at him, and drained the cup. They often spent their time together, sometimes playing billiards
or cards, sometimes just sitting side by side, reading. He had decided to ignore his fathers warningassassin or no,
he was not about to turn aside such a woman for lesser company! Even Chaol could not resist her charms.

Dorian glowered at the woman. He had come to her rooms expecting to spend the evening making a raucous over her
lack of billiard skills (which had failed to improve even a bit over the few months that they had known each other).
But she had refused, insisting that she was indisposed and could not be budged from her chair.

I take time out of my night to come visit her and she wont even raise herself for ten minutes to humor me!

Selfish wench, he snarled.

Bratty whore.

For someone who relies upon my good graces, youre awfully bold.
Hardly. Ive barely even warmed up.

Normally their spats were in jest, but this time, there seemed to be real edge to her retorts. Do you have a
headache? he asked.

No.

Stomach ache?

If youd like to call it that, then sure.

Oh. Oh Oh, shit.

What?

Dorian, catching the double meaning of his curse, laughed. I didnt mean it in that sense. I meant it as a--

I know what you meant, she barked.

You are really pushing my limits, arent you? Dorian took a seat across from her and crossed his legs. But I guess
that you can be excused for your bad behavior. I mean, its normal for a woman to turn into a raging bitch when shes
bleeding.

Profanities burst from her mouth like a volcanic eruption.

Calm yourself, woman! Your maids will hear you and die of shock and horror. Dorian clicked his tongue in mock
disapproval.

They can burn in hell for all I care, Celaena snapped.

He looked at her, his face a blend of amusement and boredom. How long do you plan on keeping up this bout of
unattractive wickedness?

Until I stop aching and start feeling lessfat.

Fat? Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Celaena pointed to where her belly would have been if the thick, brown blanket hadnt been wrapped around her like a
cocoon. Im as bloated as a drowned cow.

He laughed. Im sure you are.

She merely growled and called for another cup of tea to be brought.

They were silent until the tea arrived. Dorian watched the assassin squirm in her chair, and was thankful that he was
not a woman. From what hed heard, a womans moontime was not a pleasant affair. Theyd be indisposed for
several days and suffered such severe mood swings that husbands were known to go into hiding until the bleeding
stopped.

He personally didnt have a problem with knowing that a woman was menstruating; it was a perfectly natural thingit
just meant that sex was off-limits for a while. But since he and Celaena werent lovers, it didnt mean a thing to
Dorian DeHavilliardexcept that he should watch his back around her for the next few days.

Im surprised that youve stayed this long, your holiness, she said with false sweetness. Chaol nearly ran out of the
door when he found out that it was my moontime.

Dorian covered his smile with the hand that he was resting his chin upon. Of course Chaol would have lefthe didnt
know anything about women. Well, at least that gives us some time to be alone together, he said with a seductive
smile.
Her nose wrinkled up in a snarl. Go womanize someone else.

The Crown Prince chuckled and wiped the smirk off of his face. A month and a half ago, he had been determined to
keep his distance from her, to keep their relationship to barely more than a formal one

But it didnt work, did it? Youre a fool, Dorian DeHavilliard. I should be spending my time with other women...women
who are suitable brides. But I tried that, didnt I? I tried to sit through a night of their company two weeks ago and I
couldnt. I had to leave, gods above. I never realized how uneducated and shallow the women that I live with are. Im
a fool.

She stood up suddenly and shuffled, bent over like a hunchback, over to her bedside table, teacup still in hand. With
her spare hand, Celaena tossed a book at himwhich he thankfully caught before it would have smashed his nose in.
I read that today, she said and sat back down, encasing herself with her blanket once more. The nightgown that she
was wearing was as large as a circus tent. The Crown Prince suppressed another smile.

Dorians amusement faded when he looked at the cover of the book. He turned a shade of red. This isnt one of the
books I sent you! he exclaimed quickly in his defense. I dont even own books like these!

Celaena laughed and drank more of her tea. Of course you dont, your highness. I had one of the maids send for a
copy.

Trying to turn his face back to its normal color, Dorian opened the book to a random page and began to read aloud.
his hands gently caressed her milky-white br- he stopped reading as his eyes fell upon the following words and
slammed the book shut. Gods above, Celaena! You actually read this rubbish?

She stretched out her legs and placed her feet on the footstool. I thought youd get a kick out of that, she said with
a grin. You should borrow itits a nice break after delving into such a serious literary world.

Dorian opened up the book to another page and shut it once again, after his eyes had quickly taken in the subject of
the text. Dear gods, how many times do they make love? Once per chapter?

At least once every five pages. And they cheat on each other with about six or seven different partners--its sinful.

Dorian paled. I believe that Ive lost all respect for you.

She cackled and finished her drink. Just try reading it. Then your literary experience will be complete. And, the
assassin said with a nasty grin, itll give you some creative ideas of things to do with yourladies.

The prince hissed through his teeth and looked down at the book, making a sick face. I will not read this, he said
firmly.

Shrugging, she took the book from his hands, her face casual. Fine. Then Ill just have Chaol read it.

Dorian grabbed it back from her. Give me that, you swine.

Celaena laughed again. Menyoure all the same.

He glanced at the novel once more and then turned it over, unable to look at the title without blushing. They werent
lovers, but she insisted that he read this? Is she hinting at something?

Have you eaten? she asked, the subject of the controversial book over.

Yes, he replied. Cant you just play one game of billiards?

Your highness, I cant even stand up straight.

He yawned and stretched his arms up above his head. Dont you find it funny that you will call me such things as
bratty whore and yet you still use my formal title?
Calling you Dorian doesnt seem right.

And whys that? Curious, he leaned forward.

I dont knowyou just seemI really dont know.

His brows reached up toward his hairline. You and Chaol have a distant relationship, but you address him as Chaol,
when, in fact, you should be addressing him as Lord Chaol. You and I seem to be pretty casual about our
conversations and meetings, and you still like to use the long list of titles that comes with my rank.

If it pleases you, your magnanimous holiness, Ill call you by your first name. Despite the smile across her face, he
hoped that she meant it with due sincerity.

Magnanimous holiness? Is that even grammatically correct? It sounds like some ancient proverb. I would greatly
appreciate it, thank you, was all he said.

Watching the snow falling outside, they didnt speak for some time. It had gotten so cold lately that he had had to
order extra heating sent down to the kennels so that the litter of month-old puppies wouldnt freeze to death. They
were all beginning to show the energy of their breed, and the runt that he had declared as charcoal had actually
developed a beautiful fawn coat. Dorian often wondered if the pup had changed its color just to spite him. In any
case, charcoal or fawn, he had no use for the miscolored animal.

The future of the animal was still undecided.

What about Sardothien? Chaols suggestion sprung into the princes mind as he turned his head to look at the girl.
What use would she possibly have for a dog like that? She couldnt bring it to court, and she couldnt run with it
outside. It was a terrible idea.

But Yulemas was barely a week away and he still hadnt thought of anything to buy her. His motives for wanting to
give her a gift were a bit of a mystery to him, but Dorian was sure of the fact that a present was necessary. After all
they were friends, werent they?

Friend. Ha! I never thought Id be calling Celaena Sardothien a friend. Its strange to call her by that title, but it
somehow fits. Or maybe Im losing my mind.

He still hadnt figured out why he felt so drawn to her, why each touch of her hand sent shivers of lightning down his
spine. He had never known a woman for so long without bedding her by this point. Dorian stared at the young
woman.

Her creamy skin seemed to glow in the candle-lit room, her eyes gleaming like a kaleidoscope of sapphires and gold.
So beautiful

Had anyone asked to be her Yulemas lover? Dorian chewed on the thought. She hardly ever interacted with the men
of the court, but tradition was tradition: she had to say yes to the first man that asked her in the week prior to
Yulemas. But if the female was truly opposed to it, or claimed to not celebrate, she could say nobut the women
hardly ever did.

The week of Yulemas was supposed to be a time of relaxation, a time when women were free to wear their hair down
and wander around in dresses unshaped by corsets. Of course, none of the ladies in the palace dared to do it.

It was also a period of time when having an announced lover was acceptable. Carnal pleasure was not a thing to be
hushed up during Yulemas. It was a holiday where they feasted on the fruits of the harvest and the flesh. Naturally,
Dorian looked forward to it every year.

But this year, he had an uneasy feeling in his stomachwho would he ask? Since Sardothien had arrived, he hadnt
taken one court lady to bedhe was far too repulsed by them to even touch them. He couldnt ask a servant girl, for
it would be too embarrassing, but a noble would be too disgusting. Gods above, Ive gone two months without
bedding a woman. I really am losing my mind!

Is there something the matter?

Dorian realized that he had been lost in thought while staring at her face. Shes done something to my manhood!
Yes, there is something the matter! he exploded, in a borderline panic. Youve warped my thoughts! You did
something to me, you stupid woman!

Oops.

Stupid? Woman? her face turned into a fiery ball of hellfire, ready to rip out his throat with her teeth.

He felt his temper rise to meet hers, fueled by his own frustration and despair at the lack of appeal that the women in
his life now had to him.

Yes. You have managed to make every woman that I meet appear like an ape in a dress. You mock them all and
make them inferior in my eyes as well as yours! You have completely destroyed my

Manhood? Lust? Brutishness? she purred as she ticked off each word on a finger.

Do you know that I cant find a Yulemas lover, thanks to you? Yes! Me, the man who takes at least two Yulemas
lovers each year! Do you know how terrifyingly awful it is to suddenly lose interest in women like this? These are the
most beautiful women in the world and yet I cant even bring myself to kiss their hands!

Her face relaxed and she grinned as she leaned back into her chair. Its terrible to realize that the women youve had
on their backs all your life are nothing but painted, shallow, moronic pigs, isnt it?

Dorian could have hit her for the sneer that lay beneath her words. Thats exactly what Im talking about! You put
these lies in my head! he snarled.

She looked at her nails. Then youre a fool for believing them, Dorian. The assassin wielded his name like a weapon.
And besides, Celaena chewed on a hangnail, youre just letting your own sexual frustration and panic cloud your
thoughts. If you really wanted to sleep with one of them, my words would not hold you back.

But they do

I thought I understood women. But in the past two months, you have proven to be different than any female I ever
experiencedyou were what I was looking for, what I hoped for, what I dreamt of, and now that Ive found youIm
terrified of what will happen next.

He let out a deep breath and turned to the window, unable to look at her.

Dorian

He placed a hand against the cold glass and looked at the snowflakes dancing to earth. Why cant I be like them? So
cold, unfeeling, yet dancing so merrily with their frosty companionsmingling and melting together without second
thought.

Im the Crown Prince of Adarlan, I can have any woman I wantand yet my interest in them has staled.

But what about her? Is she truly as disgusted with my court as I am? Or does she consider me one of them? She
wouldntwould she? Shes only expressed dislike for Roland; and she doesnt appear to have any hard feelings
towards the men. What if she likes one of them? What if shes found a lover without my knowledge? What if shes
already taken for those cold nights ahead?

The thought seemed to burn through his mind, jealousy suddenly spreading like wildfire. What would he do if
someone lay claim to her? I dont want her, but the prospect of her lying in someone like Roland, or even Chaols,
arms

Dorian she repeated cautiously.

Will you be my Yulemas lover?

From behind him, he heard the sound of glass breaking.

Dorian whirled around to see her teacup broken on the floor, but what disturbed him was how white her face had
turnedand how fearful her eyes were.

Dont joke around like that, she hissed, regaining her composure. The girl ignored the shattered cup at her feet.

He quickly sought to find a way to lighten his requestto discover some way to ask her so that her face wouldnt look
soso frightened.

The Crown Prince grinned at her, trying to ease the mood. Seriously, Sardothien, I want to know if youd consider
accompanying me to our Yulemas banquet. Its nothing formal or bigjust about forty of our closest friends and
relativesand the court

If I just bring her to the feast, itll announce to everyone there (especially the males) that she is my lover, but she
doesnt have a clue what it symbolizes. Gods above, thank you for blessing me with this quick brain!

Just the banquet and nothing more? Her voice was suspicious.

He nodded his head. Its not fancyyou dont have to wear a ball gown or a corsetor even wear your hair up. Its
very casual. We gather in one of the dining halls with a massive fireplace littheres music and some light dancing and
singingwe roast chestnuts and do all of the usual Yulemas traditions.

Her eyes were still filled with a lack of trust.

I swear upon my kingdom, thats it.

Still no response.

Look! Ill even get myself an official Yulemas lover to prove it to you! He had no idea how hed pull that one off, but
if that was what he needed to get her to agree, the Crown Prince was willing to pull some strings.

Very well, she said. But if you put one move on me, and I mean even the slightest sensual touch, I will make you
wish you had never been born.

Ha! Id like to see you try to do anything to me. If circumstances hadnt been so pivotal and delicate, he would have
thrown that snide comment in her face, but since she had just barely said yes, Dorian kept it to himself.

So, youll go with me?

If you insist, she sighed.

Dorian stood up and ruffled her hair. Now no man would be able to have her for Yulemas. You wont regret it, I
swear. He picked up the book that she was forcing him to read and grinned boyishly at her. Knowing that she was
safe until the end of the holidays lightened his mood incredibly. In fact, he felt as if he could talk for two days straight
with any of the court ladies about their frivolous lives and not mind at all.

Right, she said dully.

Well, he said with a yawn and a stretch, Im off to bed! Rest up, Celaena Sardothien! Ill accept a rain-check from
you on our billiards game, but I will not be so kind if you decide to not attend our Yulemas banquet.

He strode to the door and looked back at her. She was staring out the window again, but the look of sorrow in her
eyes showed that it was not snow that she was thinking about. Dorian almost walked back to her to see what was
wrongalmost. But something told him that if the problem hadnt surfaced while he was there, she was in no hurry to
talk about itwith him at least.

Sighing, the Crown Prince left her rooms, heading for his chambers to be haunted by dreams of a beautiful woman
with lonely eyes

CHAPTER 20
Walking through the spacious halls of the palace, Celaena Sardothien and Princess Anuksun enjoyed each others
company. They had taken to strolling the palace grounds together after they were done for the day with their lessons,
and they often stayed out until after sunset. It was quite a sight: Celaena was dressed in mens clothes and Anuksun
garbed in the traditional style of her homeland. When they passed by, ladies looked the other direction and men
stared. Neither of the girls bothered to care.

The pains of her moontime were over, but she continued to bleed. Thanks to the thick cotton strips that lined her
undergarments, Celaena could now go to her lessons and walk around the palace with Anuksun on their daily
adventures.

Anuksuns language skills had greatly improved since her arrival two months agomaking verbal communication less
of a barrier between them. They were now able to converse without many obstacles, though she had to considerably
limit her vocabulary to make sure that the princess understood.

Despite this, Celaena was fascinated by the princess description of her countryand was also greatly sorrowed by
what it most has lost in wealth and pride when it was conquered by the legions of Adarlan.

The princess showed no remorse for her befallen countrybut if she possessed any bitterness of emotion towards the
empire, Anuksun dared not to express it while staying in Renaril.

I wonder how it feels to be the princess of a conquered country such as Eyputiusunn. I wonder if she even considers
herself a princess anymore

The assassin looked at Anuksuns beautiful face and pursed her lips. I wonder how it feels to be asked to go on an
important mission for the sake of the land that destroyed your country. Would you do it, Anuksun? Would you aid the
hand that strangled your home?

You have not been yourself forfive days now, Lithaen. Beside her, Anuksun stopped. Celaena halted her step and
turned with a sad smile towards the girl.

Lithaen. How would you react if I told you that my real name is Celaena Sardothien? Would you even know who I am?
Forgive my wandering mind, Anuksun. I have had much on it as of late.

Is there any help that I can do? the foreign girl had a face full of concern.

Im afraid not, but thank you for your considerate offer. Celaena touched the princess on the shoulder affectionately.

Anuksuns face turned thoughtful and she was quiet for several minutes before she spoke. I see much worries in your
face and I hear much worries in voice. You do not talk of worries, but we have friendship. When need help, Lithaen, I
will be here.

Celaenas throat tightened and she clasped Anuksuns hands in between her own. No one had called her a friend with
such meaning in a long time. No one would have dared. But here Here it is as if I have been born anew. It as if I
have begun life all over again, or stumbled into the life that was denied to me so long ago. Thank you, Anuksun.
Thank you for giving me a second chance.

The assassin looked into the womans eyes as she said with sincerity: Thank you, Anuksun. Thank you for your
friendship, thank you for your kindness, thank you for your trust. You are a true friend. Thank you for finding me

Anuksun nodded and they continued walking until they reached a part of the castle that Celaena had never been in
before. Where are we going, Anuksun?

The princess smiled at her. Dog houses. I show you little dogs that Prince show me other day.

The kennels? Its a sweet gesture, but why would the Lady Lithaen be interested in dogs? Are you sure that were
allowed to go in?

Anuksun pointed at herself. I am Princess of Eyputiusunn. I can go anywhere.

Celaena laughed and followed the girl through a large wooden door. The sounds of barks filled the air and it began to
smell like a barnyard. Wrinkling up her nose, Celaena walked past cages and stalls filled with dogs of all shapes and
sizessome were so large that they came up to Celaenas hip. Others had legs the length of her finger, yet their
bodies were as long as her arm. There were many more breeds, but the kind that fascinated and aroused awe within
the breast of Celaena Sardothien were the sleek hounds with arched bellies and long legs that were so thin that they
were no wider than half the width of her wrist.

Are these all hunting dogs?

Come, Anuksun said, and hopped over the gate of a stall. Celaena stopped at the wooden gate and looked down.
Inside were Dorian and Anuksunand four yapping puppies. All were exquisitely black. Then she noticed the fifth. It
was the runt of the litter. And the most beautiful. But its golden coat barely shone as it cowered in the corner of the
stall, hidden in shadows. Dorian must have rejected it already, she thought with a flash of anger.

Lady Lithaen. Its a surprise and pleasure to see you down here.

Celaena looked at Prince Dorian and tried not to glower. His words from the other night rang through her head,
causing her to forget her momentary contempt in an attempt to control the blush that rose to her cheeks. She had
been trying to forget that moment when he had said the words: Will you be my Yulemas lover? It was a moment in
which the world had spun in and out of focus. Everything seemed to be spinning and still at the same time. She hadnt
meant to drop the cupher hands just seemed to collapse onto her lap, losing sense of the object that they had been
grasping. The assassin had been dreading someone asking her to be a Yule-time lover, but to hear it from Dorian

I probably should have been flattered. But I just felt soso

Terrified.

That was what had scared her the most. For thirteen years, she had never feared anything. Before those six words
had been spoken, nothing had ever made her feel so helpless. Not even in the mines. Death would have been a
welcome visit during those two yearsfor I had no fear of it.

It would have been easy for Celaena to turn down Roland or any other man of the court, but to turn down the Crown
Prince, the man in whose hands her life layI could not have said no to him.

Its an absolute thrill to see you, your highness, she said, watching the two humans inside the stall. Anuksun was
being tackled by three of the puppies. I had no idea that you liked to roll around in the dirt with dogs.

Well, at least I now know that its not beneath you to do it either, he said with a sneer that matched her own.
Anuksun, unaware of the spat that was beginning, picked up an onyx-colored pup and stroked its head as the other
three animals played at her feet. How old until you train it? Anuksun asked.

Dorian turned his attention to the princess and ran a hand through his hair. Well begin after Yulemas.

Running dogs, no?

Yes, they are racing dogsbut theyre also used for hunting swift prey, like rabbits and foxes. Excellent animals.

Yes, we birth hunting dogs in Eyputiusunnbut noracing dogs.

Celaena sighed, drowning out their conversation, and climbed over the gate. She had never been too fond of dogs
especially ones that could hunt you down. But these were only puppies.

Sitting down against the gate, she held out her hand, waiting for a dog to sniff. How old are they? she asked.

Almost two months, Dorian replied, allowing for one of the animals to gnaw on his finger.

Wheres their mother? Celaena looked around the stall for the bitch, but couldnt find her.

Resting in her cageshe only appears to them at feeding time.

Celaena felt something cold and wet touch her fingers and she looked down. The fawn-colored runt had somehow
made its way through the throng of its excited brothers and sisters and up to her outstretched hand. It licked her
fingers, wagging its tail. The assassin smiled at the animal and stroked its head.

So, youve decided to stop hiding the dark? Celaena softly said to the dog and laughed lightly as it leapt into her lap,
trying to lick her face. Once she had succeeded in settling the pup down between her crossed legs, Celaena looked at
Dorian, who surprisingly had a look of bewilderment upon his face. What? Celaena said, taking the pup into her lap.

Do you know that that dog will not come near me or any of my breeders?

Celaena ruffled the pups short coat and looked down upon it affectionately. Thats because it knows youve already
rejected it before its had a chance to prove itself.

I have no use for a runt.

The assassin cocked her head to one side. You see? she said defensively, Thats exactly what Im talking about. But
it knows that I dont care about whether or not its colored correctly or if its as large as its brothers and sisters.

You give it too much credit.

And you give it too little.

Dorian glowered. Celaena snarled. Anuksun, still oblivious, was stuck under a mound of licking black puppies.

Celaena kissed the golden head of the animal. This runt and I are very similar creatures. Weve both been rejected
by higher powers at a young age and we both dont trust anyone except beings like ourselves. So, tell me, Dorian, do
you plan on sending this puppy to work in the salt mines of Endovier as well?

Take that, you bastard.

And youre both bitches, he purred in reply.

This time, both the assassin and the pup growled. For your information, she said, checking to make sure, this ones
a she paused, frowning, realizing that her joke wouldnt work. Girl, she finished dully.

My deepest apologies, my sweet lady.

Go jump in a lake.

Dorian chuckled and reached for the runt. It whined and tried to flee in the opposite direction, but Celaena held onto
it. Dont you touch her, she warned, holding it to her breast. You dont deserve an animal like this.

He leaned back and looked at the odd pair. Celaena ignored him as the pup licked her face, her soft tongue slimy
upon her cheek. All you needed was a friend to get you out of that terrible corner, she cooed. It settled back down
in her lap, resting its head upon her knee. Petting it with a mothers gentleness, the assassin beamed down at the
dog. Well, I will come to visit you every weekthat is, if you arent turned into a meal for your larger kin, she said
with a dirty look in Dorians direction.

Actually, he said, Im giving it away.

Her head snapped up and she stared at the Crown Prince in disbelief. Where are you taking it?

I dont know yet, but it cant stay.

What? Its of no burden to you!

I have no use for it.

How about a pet?

The dog hates me, Lithaen.

So? Give it to some palace boy!

Its too good a breed for that.

So, its not good enough for you, but its not good enough for someone else? Celaena barked, resting a hand
protectively on the dogs head.

Ive been looking for a home for a while he offered, his voice getting edgier.

Im sure you have, she snapped.

I raise these dogs for racing and huntingnot for cuddling. There were sparks in his voice.

She didnt know what to say to that. Damn him! Celaena tore away her gaze, reluctantly accepting defeat, and
cuddled the dog to her chest once again. Just make sure to find a place where it will be loved unconditionally, she
said quietly.

Celaena didnt see the look that crept into Dorians eyes after she spoke. In fact, she seemed to miss a lot of the
emotions that he expressed. Except for his tempershe noticed that. It was so quick to rise and fall, just like her
own.

But I dont know what makes him happy, what hurts him, what makes him affectionate. I hardly know anything about
him except that he loves books, these stupid dogs, women, pool, and arguing with me. Hes a complete mystery to
me, but I dont dare to investigate.

If you like, before I make a final decision, I will ask for your opinion.

Her eyes rose to his face. You would do that?

If you wish it, it shall happen.

Celaena smiled widely. Id be honored.

He seemed to calm down. So, Im not a demon from hell any more?

Celaena raised an eyebrow. Only an imp.

He laughed, the rest of his anger fading. Praise the gods.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

They stayed in the stall for an hour before departing. Celaena bid the runt farewell, kissing it several times before
Anuksun dragged her out the door.

As she lay in bed that night, the assassin wondered what kind of home the Crown Prince would find for the beautiful
animal.

It would have to be some place in the open, where it could race against the windand they would have to be people
that would pay it constant attention and make it feel loved. And it would have to be able to hunt whenever it liked
and

Before she could finish deciding upon the perfect home for the dog, Celaena drifted down the river of slumber with
dreams of a graceful animal running upon the back of the winds.

CHAPTER 21

What do you mean their heads have arrived?

Your highnessWendlyn sent back the heads of five of your naval commanders.

The parchment that the King of Adarlan had been holding in his hand was crushed into a compact ball. He had little
tolerance for ill newsespecially that regarding Wendlyn. Which ones? he growled, his voice deep and edged with an
impatience that was known and feared throughout his empire.

The officer paled and trembled slightly. Even his army officials were belittled in his presence. Mathais, Munroe,
Jusdar, Elphey, and Pargain.

Before the king could speak, the man extracted with a shaking hand a piece of parchment from his pocket. Andand
this came with the heads.

The officer handed the note to his ruler and took a few steps back.

Unfolding it, the king read the two words that were scrawled upon the yellow paper and ripped it to shreds. Those
barbaric beasts! How dare they do such a thing to me, King of the greatest empire the world has ever known? His
brown mustache vibrated above his lip as the king sought to keep himself from beheading the innocent officer.

You are dismissed, he said roughly to the man. After bowing, the man turned from his lord and left, shutting the
door firmly behind him.

The king looked at the remains of the note and slammed his fist down upon the desk at which he sat. His chancellors
would not be pleased by this. Their assault on Wendlyn had lasted for three yearsthree years of wasted men,
money, and artillery. His advisors were beginning to hint at dropping their pursuit of the country, but the king would
hear none of it. He needed to add Wendlyns proud crown to his collection. Only after he had conquered and reformed
the distant country would he cease.

But if his latest plan didnt work

It will work, my lord, his chancellors had advised him those many months ago. And by autumn of next year, you will
have the crown of Wendlyn in your trophy room. However, now they were having second thoughts about the plan
that had been so many months in the making. Now they were considering sending those entire girls home

It was out of the question. One of those girls would go and complete her mission, bringing back the key to Wendlyns
defeat. He had weekly reports about their progress and often observed their training sessions. The etiquette and
dancing nonsense mattered little to himjust as long as they were all able to kill, nothing would matter.

I know one of them is eager to be given written permission to slaughter once again. That one

When his son had suggested releasing Celaena Sardothien from the salt mines of Endovier, his father had thought him
mad. A trained assassin? Teaching her how to be a better killer? Are you out of your mind, boy? But his advisors had
agreed with the prince that Celaena Sardothien might be well suited for the job.

But what is to keep her from going to Wendlyn and never returning? How can we trust her? That had been his
excuse to keep the girl buried beneath the mountains. But once again, his son and chancellors had found a suitable
solution. We will make a bargain with her, fatherone that she cant refuseand well add in a few twists upon her
departure to Wendlyn that will make her come back. Consider her training more of a way to find suitable bait for the
lure that will bring her back home. His sons idea had been valid, and his advisors had pressed the matter upon him
so fervently that he had signed the release forms for the assassin. It was one of the rare occasions on which he
yielded to the wishes of his kin and councilhad the fate of Wendlyn not been on the line, he would have denied his
chancellors and reprimanded his son for being so foolish

That boys becoming more and more troublesome every day. Soon hell demand his own palace. Perhaps I should ship
him off to the army. No, thats no good. If he gains the friendship and trust of my menwho knows what he will do?

The King of Adarlan read the document in front of him and crumpled it up, deciding it to be another useless
amendment that the peasants were trying to get him to pass in their favor. Had they the opportunity, the worthless
beasts that worked at the bottom of the social ladder would probably try to destroy him. He had enemies all around
himboth in his country and beyond it, and safety was an issue of particular greatness to him.
Which was why he had guards lurking behind every corner that Celaena Sardothien turned. He knew that his son had
ordered them not to stand at all hours in front of her doors and beneath her balcony, so the king had commanded
Chaol to station his best guards (the ones that were left after those who were preoccupied with guarding their ruler, of
course) to lurk near her chambers whenever she entered them and to secretly follow her everywhere she went.

His sons fascination and developing relationship with the assassin was another thought that constantly itched his
mind. Was Dorian making an alliance? He wouldnt dare to go against me. The king had raised his son to follow in his
footstepshe had raised his son to fear and respect him. And the boy did.

While the king was an ugly, large, muscular man who greatly resembled his cousin, Duke Perringtonn, Prince Dorian
had the handsome face and slender body of his mother. The young mans only physical relations to his father were his
strength and height. Until Dorians body had begun to mature in his early teens, the King of Adarlan had been
ashamed and irritated that his son, the future heir of his vast empire, resembled a woman. He knew that his son had
no control over his looks, but the king found it hard to not take out his disappointment and embarrassment on the
young prince, often verbally abusing and humiliating the young boy. Only rarely did the king hit his own sonbut it
was hard not to when the spirit that he had been trying to bend to his will refused to break.

Hes grown out of that girlish face, but his determination to be a pain in my side hasnt lessened. He will have to learn
someday that to stand against me is to try to stand against the very fires of hell.

In truth, Prince Dorian very rarely stood against his father, for he did fear him immensely, but the king seemed to
single out and savor the moments when the young man overcame his fear and planted his feet against him.

That Sardothien wench isnt making it any easier. He should be looking for a wife, not playing pool and reading books.

Reading had never been an issue with the King of Adarlan. In fact, once Dorian had started to resemble the man that
he would become, the King had encouraged the literary world, buying his son a library of books for his fifteenth
birthday to enhance his mind.

But when he had walked into Dorians room five nights ago and found him reading a raunchy-titled book, the king had
been more than surprised. He knew that his son was a favorite amongst the court ladies, but to be actually reading
womens books?

The words that had come from his sons mouth still made the king boil with anger. OhSardothien lent it to me.
Shock turned to rage in a split second. He had wanted to hit his son in that momenthe had wanted to hit him, burn
the book, and hang the assassin, but self-control had won out in the end.

You should be ashamed of yourself for reading such rubbish.

The son had smiled sheepishly at his father. Thats what I told her, but it turns out that this book isnt half as bad as I
first fancied it to beif you like, I could lend it to you once Im done with it.

With the option of giving a beating or leaving, the king had chosen the latter and left his sons room without a word.
Even with obligations to his country, the Crown Prince seemed to have too much time on his handstoo much time to
read trashy romance novels lent to him by deadly women.

There was a loud knock on his door and the king bid the person outside to enter. In walked Duke Perringtonn, his face
red as always and his small eyes gleaming beneath his bushy eyebrows.

My lord, he said, kneeling down upon a knee.

The king nodded his head. Duke Perringtonn.

The large man rose and sat down in one of the green leather seats facing the kings desk. Have you heard of the
heads, my lord?

The King of Adarlans face darkened. Yes, he said, his voice like thunder rolling across the sky. I got their note as
well.

Their note? Where is it? Duke Perringtonns eyes narrowed, causing them to barely show beneath the orange hairs
of his eyebrows.
Its gone now, but it contained only two words: Love, Wendlyn.

The Duke grasped the arms of his chair, his eyes wide. They dared write that to you?

The king smiled evilly. They will pay for it once their throne is beneath my bottom.

The man relaxed and leaned back into his chair. They will pay for many things once we are through with them, my
lord. And once we are through with this plan, you will have yourself the woman that you have desired for so long

The king looked at his cousin and raised an eyebrow. How is Kaltain Rompier doing these days, Duke?

The Duke smiled widely, displaying the large gap between his front teeth. The Lady Kaltain is very well in general,
your highness. Though I am afraid that she is quite distressed with the assassin girl.

The King of Adarlan raised a dark eyebrow. He was always looking for an excuse to punish that damned girl. What is
Celaena Sardothien up to?

The Lady Kaltain says that the Lady Lithaenfor she does not know who the girl truly isis constantly insulting and
humiliating her. During their lessons, the assassin taunts her with snide remarks and has, on occasion, threatened
her. My lady believes that the Lady Lithaen is merely being this way to win the heart of your sonand you know how
much the well-being and friendship of the Crown Prince means to the Lady Kaltain. She is constantly looking out for
the lad, bless her heart, and if she believes that Celaena Sardothien, or the Lady Lithaen, is having a bad influence
upon him, I believe that some measures should be taken.

The king nodded. Kaltain Rompier was a beautiful and pleasant girlwho had the Duke wrapped around her finger.
But she did not ill-treat him and the king had to admit that she was very kind towards his son, and always inquired
after his health. Had the Duke not been infatuated with the woman, he would have favored a match between the girl
and his heir.

I will look into it, Duke Perringtonn, the king said with a solemn face. If what Kaltain said was trueif Celaena
Sardothien was trying to bewitch his sonextreme measures would have to be taken.

Key to Wendlyns defeat or not, he would not have his son under the control of the deadliest assassin that Adarlan
had even known.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael sat before a sea of black puppies, trying to keep his face clear of the four wet tongues. The fifth pup
was asleep in a corner, a black-tipped nose the only part of its body that was not hidden by shadow.

The Crown Prince sat across from him, smiling at the excited animals. Yulemas was but a few hours away and Chaol
still didnt know whose bed the Prince would be warming. He had been observing his friend at dinner and other courtly
activities and, frankly, Dorian showed little interest in any of the women there. There were no suggestive glances, no
secret petting, and absolutely no flirting. Something was wrong

Unless youve come to your senses and stopped gorging on the women around you. But you would never do that

Reigning in his curiosity, Chaol scratched the heads of a few of the pups and looked at the Crown Prince. There didnt
seem to be anything different with him.

Did you get anything for her? the Prince asked, noticing his friends stare. Chaol knew instantly of whom he was
speaking. What other women did he associate with but Celaena Sardothien?

Of course not, Chaol said gruffly. Shes an assassin on an extended visit from slaverywhy should I give her a
Yulemas gift? She wont be offended, will she? No, shell understand.

I thought that you were her friend, Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.

Chaol coughed. Hardly! It wouldnt be fitting for the Captain of the Royal Guard to be on such intimate terms with
Adarlans assassin.
Chaol disliked the frown that he saw appear on Dorians face. Its not fitting for the Captain of the Royal Guard, but it
is fitting for Chaol Wydrael to give Celaena Sardothien a gift.

Sometimes youre a fool, Dorian DeHavilliard. You know how much this position means to meyou know the reasons
why I took it. Im not going to allow for some woman, especially Celaena Sardothien, to threaten what Ive fought for.

Either way, Chaol said, its too late now. Besides, I dont even think she celebrates Yulemas.

The Princes frown did not vanish. His gaze darted constantly to the cowering pup in the corner and finally, it decided
to rest there. Chaol distracted himself from the awkward silence by playing with the yapping dogs.

After he could stand no more licking and pouncing, Chaol turned his eyes to Dorian once again. The Crown Prince was
still staring at the runt. Was there something wrong?

Dorian, if theres anything thats bothering you he began, pushing the puppies aside so that he could more clearly
see and communicate with his companion.

I asked her to be my Yulemas lover.

For a second, his heart stopped beating.

It took Chaol a few seconds to react to the sudden pain that had gripped his heart in a tight fist. Sardothien?
Laughter began to break from his throat. You asked Sardothien to be your lover? This isnt happening to me

What will the King say?

His laughter ceased as he saw the open glare that Dorian was giving him. It looked almostdangerous.

And she said yes? Chaol said cautiously. Dorian, stop giving me that look

She broke a teacup when I asked her, the Prince said glumly. But then I softened it a littleI just told her to attend
the Yulemas banquet with me.

Chaol didnt dare to laugh. Not after he had seen the expression on Dorians face. You basically tricked her into
saying yes?

Dorian ran a hand through his black hair. In a way, I did. When I bring her to the banquet, it will say to everyone
there that shes mine for the next two weeks. But to her it will just benothing.

So to everyone but her, shes your lover.

The Prince nodded. Exactly.

Dorian, Dorianwhat have you done? She cant be your lover! Shes

Your father is going to kill you. Chaol stated.

Ill explain it to him.

Youre determined to do this then?

Dorian gave Chaol a weighing look. Unless you have any objections to my claim on her, he said slowly.

Only to save myself from a tongue-lashing from your father. Why else would I have any problem with it? You idiot!
How could you think that there would be anything like that between her and me?

The composure on his friends face didnt change. I thought that you fancied her. I was sure that you would want her
as a lover.
Then why would you ever have claimed her before I had a chance to ask her? It came out before Chaol could think.
He hadnt meant to say thatespecially not in such a challenging manner. Please dont let this become an argument
over Sardothien

Thankfully, Dorian shrugged his shoulders and looked at the runt once again. I dont know, the Crown Prince said
softly, almost in a whisper. I dont know

CHAPTER 22

Celaena Sardothien awoke on Yulemas morning to silence. Pure, fresh silence. The light in her room was a soft gray,
colored by the gently falling snow outside. There was ice lace on all of her windows, each pane filled with thousands of
different intricate designs with borders of stranded snow. It was as lovely a Yulemas morning as she could possibly
imagine.

A smile on her face, Celaena turned over to bury her face in her silk pillows, but something got in her way. It was
crinkly and harsh against her face and smelled like

Candy! she exclaimed delightedly and sat up. To her great pleasure, a large brown paper bag was filled to the brim
with Yulemas candies of all sorts. Not checking to see whom it was from, Celaena stuck her hand into the bag and
pulled out a handful of the sweets. It had been so long since she had eaten candytoo long.

With a jolly laugh, she crammed it all into her mouth. It took her several minutes to chew the sticky candies, and by
the time the last one was down her throat, her jaw was quite sore. Naturally, this minor inconvenience didnt stop
Celaena from taking several more handfuls of the candy before stoppingalmost ten minutes later.

She emptied the bags contents out on her bed, ignoring the sugar that poured out with it, and clasped her hands
over her mouth in joy. All of her favorite sweets were in there: flavored bean-shaped chews, chocolate-coated bear-
shaped gummies, sugar-covered strips ofsomething, the fruity-tasting berry-shaped Yulemas suckers, and, most
importantly, chocolate. Not just cheap chocolatereal, expensive chocolate.

Celaena took one of everything plus two extra chocolates and stuffed them into her mouth. Someone, she said in
between chews, is very good to me.

Who had sent them? Chaol? No, he doesnt celebrate Yulemas. Maybe Dorianor Anuksun. I wonder

Miss Sardothien!

Celaena turned her head to see Farana standing in the doorway, her mouth open in shock. The assassin grinned and
held up a chocolate-covered gummy. Want one?

Faranas face turned red with anger and she stormed up to the bed. Miss Sardothien, your teeth are red! The
woman pointed at her mouth.

Celaena blinked and ran her tongue over her teeth. She looked down at her candy. Damn those Yulemas suckers!

Miss Sardothien, you have gotten sugar all over your bed! Look at this mess! Look at your face! It is coated in
chocolate! How much candy have you eaten? The maid was clearly about to blow a gasket.

Celaena laughed and swung her legs out from underneath the covers, spraying sugar into the atmosphere. Dont you
ever take a break, Farana? Its Yulemas. I havent eaten candy in three years! Celaena stuffed a few more candies in
her mouth. Shed just brush the stains away later. Besides, she continued with a red-colored grin, I dont need you
this morning. I dont have to wear a corset or a fancy dress or do my hair or anything like that. So, just lay out my
green velvet dress and matching cloak and Ill be fine. Oh, and make sure that you leave out that red-beaded head
circlet too.

Farana shook her head, deciding not to argue (or considering quitting her job), and left Celaena to her glorious food.

Beaming like the first ray of sunshine, Celaena popped a few chocolates into her mouth and headed off to her dressing
room.
 O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena walked beside Anuksun (who had not sent her the candy) in the ankle-deep snow, trying to keep her poor
feet from freezing. Her teeth had remained reddespite the intense scrubbing that she had done in the hour before.
It was difficult to keep your mouth shut while your teeth were chattering like a kettle about to burst. The temple
where the Yulemas ceremony would take place was inside the palace grounds, but it bordered the game park that was
located on the other side of the palacetoo far away from my chambers.

Anuksun was merrily trotting along, her fur-lined boots keeping her feet warm and dry. Celaena, on the other hand,
was wearing the silly green slippers that she wore every day, and her feet were now soggy, frozen, and beginning to
go numb. Of course, she had been in worse situations. Working in the freezing depths of the mines of Endovier
without anything but a few rags to clothe her was number one on Celaenas list of terrible cold-weather scenarios.

There were several other people walking in front and behind them, some were being carried in litters, but most of
them traveled by foot. The cowl of her emerald cloak kept her hair from becoming coated with snow, but the damn
dress was now soaked in six inches of snow and slush. I should have worn something more sensiblebut since we are
to sit with Madam Tulrouse and the other girls, I think that I would be hanged by the old bat if I were to walk into
that temple with mens apparel on me.

Two male nobles walked by them, nodding to the princess and her green-clad companion as they passed. Celaena
merely bowed her head in acknowledgement. Praise the gods that this is a society that adores silent women. If they
saw my teeth, theyd think I was a cannibal.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Seated in a pew that was towards the back of the spacious temple, Celaena Sardothien looked out across the crowded
room. It was a grand temple: built entirely from glass, save for the stone altar and platform that stood in the front of
the room. They were from the remains of the original temple, which had been built from limestone and then destroyed
when the king had decided to replace it with a more impressive glass structure.

It was impressive, but Celaena thought that it was a bit too showy for a building of religious purposes. But then again,
those who used the temple were the ruling elite. They were used to such extravagance.

Two rows of about a hundred pews stretched three quarters of the length of the temple. It was a massive piece of
architecturethe high, glass vaulted ceiling let in so much light that no candles were needed during the day. Snow
was piled upon the clear roof, casting strange patterns of light throughout the temple. Since the walls were also made
of glass, it made the stained windows appear to be merely hovering in mid-air.

It was incredibly beautiful, but just too distracting for a building used for worship.

Celaena stood up from her aisle seat on the hard wooden bench and peered over the heads of the hundreds of people
sitting in front of her, instantly spotting the royal family seated in the first pew. Dorian was chatting to somesome
girl.

Is that his Yulemas lover? Celaena squinted to get a better view. Shes not very pretty. Perhaps shes a cousin

Lady Lithaen, sit down at once! The service is beginning!

Celaena hid her scowl and dropped back onto the bench. All around her were faceless nobles who were dressed as if
they were going to a ball. How ridiculous. This is service of worship and reflectionnot dancing and gossip.

The High Priestess walked out onto the raised stone platform and raised her hands above her head, the folds of her
gossamer robe falling around her like the snow cascading from above. She was old, yet her face was lined with
wisdom, not wrinkles. The eight-pointed star that was tattooed upon her brow was freshly inked in midnight blue: its
deep color and straight lines contrasted with the flowing river of silver hair that fell from her head.

Welcome all and may the blessings of Yulemas be upon you, the High Priestess said, her voice echoing across the
massive chamber to reach even those seated in the back. Normally the High Priestess led the attendees in Yulemas
prayers, which was then followed by a sermon and finally the procession of the gods. It only took a few hours, but to
many people, it felt like a lifetime.
Today is the day on which we celebrate the end and the beginning of the great cycle. Today is the day on which the
Great Goddess conceived the seven gods of the earth in her womb. Darkness and light meet on this day to form life
for the year to come. As we celebrate life-encouraging light on Eostar, today we celebrate the darkness from which we
all came and to where we will return in the end

Celaena felt a weight begin to press down upon her eyelids. She was so tired from all that walking

Darkness is often regarded with fear for we are without the sense that we most rely upon: sight. Yulemas is the
longest night of our yearbut tonight we will not fear the darkness; for tonight the gods are with us. Tonight, we will
replace our sight with our other senses: hearing, scent, taste, and feeling. Tonight we celebrate the gods and our
bodies, for those are the sacred temples that were given by our higher powers. I ask that you all join me now in the

Unable to help herself, Celaena felt her eyes close as she drifted off to sleep.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Lady Lithaen, awaken yourself immediately!

Celaena opened her eyes and sat up with a jolt. How long had she been asleep? Madam Tulrouse was opening glaring
at her from down the pew, and several of the girls were laughing silently. Celaena shot the old woman an apologetic
look and turned her gaze to the altar. The sermon of the High Priestess was closing, and the procession of the gods
would soon begin.

How long have I been asleep? she whispered to Anuksun. The princess grinned. One hour and one half.

Celaena smiled, but then covered her mouth to hide her red teeth. Why didnt you wake me?

I was sleepinguntil Madam Tulrouse awake me one minute ago.

Both girls hid their grins behind their hands.

And so, in closing, I would like to wish you a fruitful Yulemasmay the darkness receive and guide you through the
year to come.

Celaena nodded her head like the rest of the congregation and looked down the aisle eagerly for the procession of
gods. Each year, seven children were chosen to represent a god. They would be costumed, blindfolded, and then let
loose upon the gathered group in the temple. If a child stopped before you, you would receive the blessings of that
god or goddess and would also receive a small gift that symbolized your deity.

The sound of many footsteps filled the room.

Celaena stood up with the rest of the congregation and watched as the procession of the gods began to unfold. Seven
tiny people divided and walked down the three aisles. Farnor, the god of war stopped in the second rowat Duke
Perringtonns pew. Lumas, the god of love walked straight past her. The elegant representation of Deaenna, the
maiden goddess, also known as the Huntress, was approaching.

Celaena held her breath as the girls footsteps slowed, wishing suddenly that she hadnt taken the aisle seat.

To her dismay and embarrassment, the girl stopped right in front of Celaena and removed her blindfold.

The young girl was prettyher brown hair hung down in thick curls and her green eyes reflected only the life of the
forest. She is the living reincarnation of Deaenna! The girl smiled and reached up to touch Celaenas forehead.
Celaena could feel hundreds of eyes upon her.

May Deaenna, the Huntress, bless and keep you this year. On her behalf, I bestow to you this golden arrow as a
symbol of her power and fortitude. Merry Yulemas! The girl smiled again and walked down the aisle, leaving the
golden arrow in Celaenas hands.
The assassin looked down at the arrow with raised brows. It couldnt be used, of course, because it was far too heavy
to fly. But it was very pretty. With a shrug, Celaena tucked the arrow into the folds of her cloak and waited for the
service to end.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

After Celaena had eaten the massive meal that always came after the Yulemas ceremony, she returned to her rooms
for a napher stomach near to bursting. She and Anuksun had consumed a bit of everything on the table at which
they and the other five girls had sat (for Kaltain had gone off to eat with Perringtonn), and it had taken Celaena
almost a quarter of an hour to get to her room because she was so full.

Since corsets and fancy hair were not required, Celaena selected a lovely, shape-hugging red velvet dress and blue
circlet of beads to show off the color of her lustrous locks. By the time there was a knock on her door, Celaena was
more-than ready. In fact, she was almost nervous.

Opening the door a crack, she looked out and saw Dorian standing in the hallway, a rather smug expression coating
his face. Unable to do anything but step out into the hallway, Celaena found that she could not hide the frown that her
nervousness brought about. It was just a ballnot even a ball. It was a gathering of friends to eat food and sing
stupid songs. She shouldnt be worried about anything. Except for meeting the nobles

Dorian burst into laughter as she closed the door behind her.

I dont believe it! he exclaimed, shaking his head.

The frown turned into a full-faced glower. I dont see what you could possibly be laughing at, Dorian DeHavilliard.

He didnt stop chuckling. You, he said breathlessly. You actually wore a dress without a corsetand your hair the
laughing ensued.

Isnt that what Im supposed to wear? she asked coldly, putting a hand on the doorknob in case she had to retreat
into her rooms to avoid humiliation.

Dorian thankfully caught this subtle gesture and stopped his hysterics. Of course it is, the Crown Prince said swiftly
and flashed a handsome smile in her direction. He then pulled her forward and guided her down the hall with a hand
on her back to keep her from running away.

Its just, he said after they had descended down a flight of stairs and two corridors, not most, in fact, none, of the
women here actually follow that tradition.

Before she could slice of his head, Dorian threw in another sentence. But, its not a problem if you actually dont get
dressed upin fact, I think the court will be impressed.

If you make me look a fool, Dorian DeHavilliard, I will

You will do absolutely nothing. He linked elbows with her. Now, wipe that scowl off your face and make yourself
presentable. Were almost there.

The butterflies that had been fluttering in her stomach now turned into a swarm of angry bees. Maybe I should just
go back to my rooms for the night, she said quickly, trying to slow down her pace.

Dorian looked at her from the corner of his eye and grinned slyly. Youre not afraid, are you, Celaena Sardothien? I
never knew you to be a coward.

Coward? COWARD?

You son of a bitch! You wretched boy! How dare you even hint at calling me, me, Celaena Sardothien, the greatest
assassin that ever lived, the most powerful woman in Adarlan, a coward? I should hang you by your toes and skin you
alive! I should chop you up and feed you to that hound runt! You, repulsive, disgusting, womanizing pig!
Celaena dug her nails into Dorians arm, smiling sweetly at him. You really do adore me, dont you? Youre so
desperate for me to be seen at your side that youd actually stoop so low as to call me a coward. If you want me, just
tell me, she purred and dug her thumbnail deep into his wrist.

He winced and glared at her, shaking his arm free of her evil grasp. As if I would waste the time and energy to court
you. I have a thousand women willing to take their clothes off for me at any time of the daywhy should I favor you?
Even Lumas couldnt seduce you.

Touch.

They neared a massive pair of glass doors and the sound of music and laughter filled their ears.

Now, he repeated again, his voice filled with no hint of amusement, make yourself presentable. Were about to
enter a room filled with my court and family. If you look like a pot about to explode, theyll hate you. If you look like
an angel, theyll adore you. Dont say anything witty or their brains will implode.

She couldnt help but laugh.

They passed through the glass doors and walked into the room, standing atop the small set of stairs. It looked lovely
in a corner there was a massive Yulemas tree decorated with candles, berries, and sparkling ornaments and
trinkets. Wreaths of holly and spruce lined the walls, and a massive buffet of Yulemas foods and delights lay against
the back wall. The sound of bells was in the air and a small orchestra was playing Yulemas tunes in the corner across
from the Yulemas tree. There were long tables scattered throughout the roomthe center one reserved for the
immediate royal family. Celaena hid the grimace that wanted to rise to her face when she saw Kaltain Rompier seated
at that table beside Duke Perringtonn.

Merry Yulemas, your highness!

Celaena turned her gaze to a young man who was standing at the foot of the stairs. He was youngnot yet thirty,
and his face was merry and shining. He looked like a pleasant sort of fellownot one who youd like to have an
intellectual conversation with, but the type whod make you smile when you were sad or lonely.

And the same to you, Benau, Dorian replied, motioning for Celaena to follow him down the stairs.

Wait! Benau cried, holding his hands for them to stop. All couples who pass beneath the mistletoe must exchange a
kiss!

Youve got to be Celaena began, but was stopped by a sharp pinch on the arm from Dorian. What sort of party is
this? Yulemas party indeed! More like a form of legalized prostitution!

Her face was turning embarrassingly red. In fact, it was on fire.

Dont blush so much, Dorian muttered. Her stomach did flip-flops as he turned to her and lightly kissed her cheek.
His lips were soft against her skin and

Oh, thats not a kiss! Dorian DeHavilliard, give that girl a real oneon the lips!

Are you fu Celaena started, her eyes flashing, but once again, Dorian pinched her to the point where her extreme
curse was stopped before it was actually formed into anything.

Another man joined Benau and smiled up at the two at the top of the stairs. If this lasted any longer, theyd have a
whole crowd staring at them. Celaena looked at Dorian and found his eyes upon her face.

My face is going to be burnt off!

She turned her gaze from him and looked in the other direction, her eyes upon the floor. My face is so hot

Come on, he said with a sigh and took a step down. Celaena followed him, always a step above him, not daring to
look at the nobles as she descended. She wished that she were back in bed, eating at her glorious candy.
Dorian, you dont really mean that youre just going to give that girl a kiss on her cheek? the other man said, his
jaw open in shock.

Yes, he is, you philandering piece of shit.

More objections were made by the time they reached the bottom step, and Celaena thought that she was home free.

But then

So, Dorian DeHavilliards lost his nerve and his balls?

Something must have gone through the Crown Prince in that moment that only a male could have understood. It
caused him to stop in his tracks and whirl around, his face filled with such cold fury that the assassin ceased her
walking.

It happened so quickly that before Celaena could stop it, his lips were upon hers, kissing her so fiercely that she was
breathless.

She wanted to hit him, oh gods above how she wanted to hit him, to make him stop, to make him feel ashamed and
disgusted with himself. But, for some reason, she couldnt. She could see people staringshe could see them
laughingCelaena closed her eyes and waited for it to end.

This isnt happening

For the first time in her life, Celaena Sardothien was under the complete mental and physical power of another being.
All that she could feel were his soft lips, which were now not as fierce as they had been moments before, but rather
gentle and warming

And, before she knew it, Celaena was kissing him back.

Then it stopped.

Dorian withdrew and stared at her face. Celaena, her eyes still closed, took several strengthening breaths before
opening her eyes. The world felt as if it had gone into a daze. Nothing seemed to be working right. Her feet wouldnt
respond, her eyes werent registering anything, and her ears refused to hear.

Seeing her state, Dorian hooked arms with her again and led her away from the two men, towards the massive
Yulemas tree.

Im sorry, he whispered to her. I truly am. If they hadnt said thatif they hadnt challenged me like that, I never
would have. I know what you said about me touching youI know that you dont want me to. Please, dont let this
come between us. I cant apologize enough.

Celaena stared dumbly at the Yulemas tree and raised a hand to her lips, brushing their red surface as if to make sure
that they were really there. He kissed me

Celaena, Im sorry. I didnt want to kiss you.

It clicked in that momentit clicked what had happened and how it had felt. Anger swelled through her, almost too
painful to bear within her. Celaena turned her eyes to him, her hand dropping to her side and she opened her mouth
to speak, but couldnt find the words. He had kissed herthey hadfor a momentit was like

Celaena, dont look at me that way. It was just a silly Yulemas traditionIve done it thousands of times.

From the look of disgust and repulsion that filled her eyes, the Crown Princes words were clearly not the right ones.
As much as she hated to admit it, the kiss had meant somethingit had felt like something.

But this was not the time and place for such confusing and rage-filled thoughts. She was standing in a room with
people that thought she was one of thempeople who thought that she was Lithaen Gordaina. It would not do to blow
her cover over such a stupid thing.
Fine, she whispered coldly. You just caught me off-guard. It was nothing but a surprise.

Then she turned from him, walking towards the table on which all of the food was displayed, and missed the look in
the princes eyes that reflected so many of the conflicted feelings that she had experienced moments before. She
missed the way that he watched her as she walked away.

Most of all, she missed the way that for the rest of the evening, he was only looking at her.

CHAPTER 23

Kaltain Rompier watched in rage-filled agony as Lithaen Gordaina and the Crown Prince of Adarlan sat at the end of a
table, sharing a meal together. That whore had managed to weasel her way into being Dorian DeHavilliards Yulemas
lover! She should be at his side, not some no-named harlot! You stupid slut, Ill make you pay for this.

A hand stroked her arm timidly and Kaltain hid the snarl of disgust that rose to her face. Turning to face Duke
Perringtonn, Kaltain batted her eyelashes and looked down at the table in false modesty as she turned her blush of
anger into one of a simpering maiden.

The Duke had asked her to be his lover at the earliest time possibleand she had accepted, but had made him swear
that they would not engage in fornication unless she were ready. Until she had the Crown Prince under her thumb,
shed have to heed Duke Perringtonns requests and desires. But still

Kaltain innocently removed her arm from him, and looked up into the large mans eyes with a flash of phony conjured
youthful desire. Just enough to keep him biting her line. Before she could see his reaction, Kaltain rose and left the
table, trying to quell her nausea. Despite her continual self-assurance that she had the Duke wrapped around her
finger, Kaltain was still afraid that there might come a time when even her modest pleas and maneuvers might not
hold sway with the man.

Her mask of innocence vanished as she approached the buffet table near which the prince and Lithaen Gordaina were
seated. It was nearing midnight, the hour at which the King and Queen would enter the room and bestow their
blessings upon all withinand give permission for the Yulemas lovers to make merry in their own rooms.

As Kaltain poured a glass of the Yuleberry wine for herself, she watched Dorian and his whore from the corner of her
eye.

The girls face was blushed, her eyes were bright, and there was laughter pouring from her mouth. The Crown Prince
looked bewildered, but amusedhis eyes only on his partners face. He didnt even glance at the young women who
were so obviously parading before him.

A vicious smile spread across Kaltains face.

While Lithaen had bewitched Dorian DeHavilliard with her supposed intellect, Kaltain Rompier was sure that in
physical beauty, they could not be matched. The dark-haired girl considered her own face above all mortal contest
and the visage of a nobody like Lithaen Gordaina could never surpass her own.

The woman took a sip of the wine, clearing her face, and slunk over to their table, her eyelashes batting as they had
before with an air of sweet disposition. Kaltain stopped before them (for they were sitting at the edge of the table)
and leaned against it seductively with her back to Lithaen, looking at the Princes handsome features.

How long had she desired him? How long had she wished for the touch of his lips against her own? How much longer
would she have to wait to get that crown upon her head? Kaltain smiled slowly at the young man. Merry Yulemas,
your worship, she said huskily.

There was a snort, followed by the sound of contained laughter, which then burst into a full-fledged cackle. Kaltain
whirled to stare upon Lithaen Gordaina, and did not hide the venom in her glare. The woman seemed to take no
notice and continued to laugh, throwing her head in between her crossed arms on table to hide her face.

There was another fizzing noise and to Kaltains horror, she saw the Crown Prince burst into hysterics as well,
covering half his face with the arm that he had propped upon the table. Humiliated, but too proud to leave, Kaltain
stared at the laughing pairand then noticed the eight or nine wine glasses that littered the surface in front of them.
Gods above, theyre drunk!

The Prince mastered himself and looked up at the fuming woman with a suppressed smile. My apologies, Kaltain.
Merry, his face contracted from his attempts to keep from laughing, merry Yulemas to you as well.

More laughter from Lithaens side of the table.

With a final scowl that turned into a delicate smile as she looked from Lithaen to the Prince, Kaltain raised her
eyebrows. Im afraid that I have missed the joke, your highness. What could possibly be so amusing to you both?
Has something happened? Who has looked the fool before you?

You, Lithaen said into her arms as her body heaved up and down with laughter.

The Princes lips quivered.

Merry Yuuuuuulemas, your wooorship, the blond girl said mockingly, her voice deep in an extreme exaggeration of
Kaltains words and tone. The Prince burst into fits of laughter once again, and Kaltain fought down the urge to slap
Lithaen across the face.

How dare she insult me in such a way? Just you wait, Lithaen Gordainayoull get your just rewards soon enough.

Kaltain stood in front of them until their laughter subsided and both of them were able to look her in the face without
laughing. That wench had made a fool of her in front of the Crown Prince! Kaltain looked at Lithaens casual attire and
her eyes gleamed. It was time for pay back.

I notice that you actually dressed according to Yulemas tradition, Lithaen Gordaina, Kaltain looked at her own waist
and then looked at that of the woman. Now I can see where all the food that you consume goes.

The smile on Lithaens face wavered.

Unless, Kaltain continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness that belly is not from food, but from There was
a nasty pause. Roland, perhaps?

The Crown Prince stiffened in his seat.

Lithaen exploded into laughter and once again buried her head in her arms. The woman had lost her wits entirely.
How many glasses of that Yuleberry wine had she drunken?

She watched the Crown Prince from the corner of her eyehe seemed to have gotten over his drunken antics pretty
quickly. He must not have drunk as much as his lover. Better to plant the seeds of mistrust now when he has his wits
and she doesnt

What say you, your majesty? said Kaltain with faux intellectual curiosity. Do you think that Lithaen Gordaina is
carrying Rolands child? Or maybeChaols?

Lithaens laughter increased in volume. Chaol? Lithaen looked up, her face lit with amusement. Chaol wouldnt go
near me for all the world! More chuckling. Im too dangerous for himmmmm, Lithaen said, her tongue dragging out
the last word.

Dangerous? Kaltain watched Lithaen lay her head upon her arm and stare up lazily at Dorian DeHavilliard.

But, you see, the girl continued, her speech blurred with alcohol, Dorians not afraid of meeeno, he and I read
naughty books together. Yes, very naughty bookseseses. Its funny: you want him so badly, but he wont even look at
you! All you get is a ball of lard like Duke Perringtonn to warm your bed! How is he, by the way? Can he find his
manhood amongst his rolls of fat? Can you both even fit into a bed together? She pounded her fist upon the table as
she howled with laughter. Anyway, she slightly regained her composure, whats even funnier is that dear Dorian is
at my beck and callhes desperate to sleep with me! And I dont even want him! He wants me over you. You want
him, but you cant have himI dont want him, and I could have him at any time I desired! Isnt that hilarious? Me,
an as
At this point, Dorian DeHavilliard had reached across the table and covered the womans mouth, silencing her. Kaltain
could hardly contain herself. No one, not in the entirety of her life, had ever spoken to her with such disrespect and
vulgarity. And in front of her future husband!

You fool! Kaltain heard the Crown Prince hiss at the girl.

Good. Slap her around for a bit, Dorian. Put the wench back in her place. Kaltain felt her outraged mood softening. If
the Crown Prince was reprimanding the girl, then there would be no need for her to derive the pleasure from doing it
herself.

Gather your wits, you drunken idiot! he continued, shaking her shoulders. Hit her, damn it!

Lithaen Gordaina laughed in his face and grinned slyly. I thought you promised not to touch mebut thats of no
consequence, I dont mindyoure too handsome for me to mindmy lovely, beautiful Doriannnnnnn. Will you kiss me
again?

Kiss? KISS? You slut, you whore! How dare you touch my fianc? Kaltain felt an urge to throw her wine glass at the
girl, but decided to let the Crown Prince handle her unruly behavior.

If you do not come to your senses, I shall toss you into a fountain. A cold bath will do you well.

And hit her! Dorian hit her!

Lithaen Gordaina brought her face dangerously close to his. Will you be bathing with me? I can wash you, and you
can wash me.

Celaena, you are to Dorian DeHavilliards eyes grew wide and he stopped speaking.

Celaena? Kaltain asked aloud, her eyebrows high on her face. Who is Celaena?

Lithaen looked past the young man and smirked. Want to know a secret?

Lithaen, if you tell her about Celaena, Ill kill you. His voice was so dangerous when he was angry

But

Celaena? Who is Celaena? Some lover? Some other whore for me to compete with?

But Dorian, dont you think she should know? She should at least know who shes waging war against.

Celaena is another lover of his! Who was she? A servant? No one of this court went by the name of Celaenaperhaps
she was some peasant. Or maybe a very distant noble. Either way, she must be destroyed.

The prince stood up from his seat and practically shoved Kaltain out of the way as he yanked Lithaen out of her chair.
Kaltain fought to keep from hurling herself upon the babbling idiot named Lithaen Gordaina.

But the prince, once again, beat her to the chase. Youre going to your rooms. Now. Despite Lithaens protests, he
managed to lead her away from the table. Youve had too much to drinkI knew that I shouldnt have listened to
your lies about your high tolerance to alcohol. Youll be lucky if you can even walk straight tomorrow. He barely
turned his head to say Good evening, Kaltain.

Dorian DeHavilliard pulled Lithaen after him, heading towards the stairs.

Then the clock chimed midnight. The Crown Prince froze as two figures appeared in the doorway, each wearing a
crown upon their head. It was the King and Queen.

Kaltain wanted to clap her hands together for joy. When they saw the condition that the Princes lover was in, theyd
despise Lithaen and forbid him to consort with such a woman. A lady was never drunkwhat moron had brought this
barbarian girl into their castle? She should be sent into the mines of Endovier to work with the rest of her kind!
The royal couple descended down the stairs and paused at the bottom, smiling and staring out at the assembled
crowd of their family and friends. People cheered and called out Yulemas greetings.

The Crown Prince and Lithaen Gordaina did not move.

Kaltain watched with growing interest as the eyes of the King fell upon Lithaen and his face turned from one of
merriment to one of disgust and hate. His wife continued to dish out Yulemas greetings, she and the rest of the
assembled unaware of the silent confrontation that was going on.

The color had drained from Lithaens skin completely, leaving her so pale that the snow outside would appear brown
beside her complexion. The girl trembled.

I see that it is not beyond Lithaen Gordaina to fear her superiors. Perhaps the King will destroy her for me.

But that hope was broken when Kaltain saw the Crown Princes hand tighten around Lithaens wrist. Would he defend
her from his own father? Youre more of a slave to her evil will than I thought. You leave me no options save one,
Lithaen Gordaina.

Excuse us, father, the young man said softly, and gently went past his parents, dragging a shaken Lithaen Gordaina
with him up the stairs and out of the hall. Kaltain watched them until they were out of sight.

Yes, go bed him to your hearts content, Lithaen Gordaina. Enjoy your wretched plans for the moment. For, in a few
days, you shall be mine

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena awoke the next morning to the surprise and horror of something licking her face. Her eyes flew open and she
stared in dumbstruck awe at the snout of the fawn-colored runt. It licked her cheek and stepped on her chest, causing
her to shove it off with a pain-filled Oof!

Someone laughed.

Turning her head, Celaena found that Dorian DeHavilliard was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching the puppy leap
about around her. She frowned, remembering the manner in which she had ended last night.

She had been drunk, that she remembered with blurry memories; but what stuck out in her mind was the man who
she had been dreading to meetthe man who had buried her alive.

Her terror had overwhelmed her to the point where the alcohol in her blood had vanished from her clouded mind. She
saw the King of Adarlan with piercing clarityand Celaena Sardothien knew that he was not pleased by what he had
seen. Celaena could understand why; shed be upset if she found her son associating in public with a dreaded assassin
who should be locked upshed be furious if she found her son with that same assassindrunk. Of course, no one
knew that she was an assassin except for the King, Dorian, Chaol, her maids, and a few of the guardsit was a well-
kept secret. But in either case, Celaena could understand why the King of Adarlan would be furious with her, his son,
and probably the Captain of the Guard.

The pup pounced upon her again, and Celaena fought from being coated in wet kisses. It was much heavier than she
remembered it, and the assassin had quite a hard time dislodging it permanently from herself.

I thought youd enjoy waking up like that, the Crown Prince said with a playful grin. I was almost afraid of losing
my arm to this beast from all the fuss that it caused getting up here, but once it caught your scent, I had trouble
holding it back.

Celaena wiped the slobber off of her face and rubbed her eyes as she sat up. The dog sat down upon the bed, its tail
still wagging, and rested its head upon her lap. Isnt it a bit early for such a wake-up call? Couldnt you have waited
two more hours? she grumbled.

Its past two oclock already! According to your maids, youve slept like a log all morning.

Celaena looked at his face and was surprised to see no trace of sleepiness across it. Arent you tired?
He put a hand against his chest in mock surprise. Tired? Me? Never! Why, I only had about thirteen hours of sleep
last night!

She smiled at him sleepily. And you dont have a splitting headache?

I wasnt the drunken oneIm surprised that you arent flinching at every word I say.

Actually, Im surprised as well. She had no trace of a headache whatsoeverwhich she had fully expected this
morning.

I guess seeing my father was better than any cold bath we might have shared, eh?

Celaena raised an eyebrow. What was he talking about? Cold bath? Shared? What went on last night? Im relieved to
see that youre still in one pieceI thought for sure that your father would kill one of us, she said dryly.

Actually, he didnt do anythingyet.

The runt yawned and Celaena reflexively scratched its head.

Its yours you know, the Crown Prince said quickly with a nod in the puppys direction.

What? Celaena couldnt believe her ears. What use would I have for a dog?

Consider it a Yulemas present from me to you.

What the hell am I going to do with it? she blurted out, unable to control herself.

His shoulders slumped down in disappointment. Then you dont want her? he asked gloomily.

Ack! I cant reject a gift like this! Of course I want it, you buffoon, she snapped.

Dorian smiled and regained his posture. So, youll take her?

Celaena played with the folded, fawn-colored ears and twisted her mouth in a crooked smile. You know what they
say: birds of a feather flock together.

The Crown Prince chuckled. You two will probably terrorize every lady and lord, servant and maid, and animal in this
kingdom.

And eat everyone out of house and home, she added.

In amusement, they exchanged one of those peaceful smiles that rarely passed between them.

Dorian looked around the bedroom and returned his gaze to her with a dumbfounded expression. Wheres all the
Yulemas candy I sent you?

Celaena patted her stomach and grinned mischievously. In my belly.

The Crown Princes eyes nearly leapt from his sockets. You ate all of that candy in less than a day?

Was I supposed to save it?

There was at least five pounds of candy in that bag!

So?

He smacked his forehead in exasperation. So, I wanted some!

You never told me that.

I didnt expect you to consume all of it in less than a day!

That just shows poor judgment on your part, doesnt it?

You pig; it just shows that you have no self-control!

Pig?

Yes, pig.

Womanizing good-for-nothing.

Go eat twenty more pounds of sweets.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Grow up, Celaena.

Go sleep with some duchess.

Why dont I just sleep with you?

Excuse me?

You heard me.

Not for the world on a silver platter.

Oh, really? From what you said last night, I thought you were on the verge of bedding me.

Celaena blinked, the momentum of their conversation stalling. What?

The Crown Prince coughed and ran a hand through his hair, obviously embarrassed. I didnt mean to say that.

Celaenas face colored and her eyes grew wide. Gods above, what did I do last night?

You mean you dont remember anything?

Not before I saw your father.

A lazy smile spread across Dorians faceone that Celaena did not like. Well, first you took off your clothes.

Youre kidding me. A knot of worry began to form in her stomach.

No, Im not. In front of everybody, you took off your clothes and danced upon a table before me.

If youre lying to me, Ill slaughter you.

Gods above! This cant be happening to me! I danced NAKED upon a table? I want to die, I want to go back into the
minesoh, gods above, save me! Make this not true!

No, it gets better. After you danced for us for a while, you took several of my close male friends and me into a room
and gave us each a personal, nude Eyputiusunn-inspired dance.

Her heart stopped beating. She felt nauseated. Gods, please strike me down nowhave mercy and end my life!

And then the Crown Prince began to laugh.

It was not a bitter laugh of one amused by the misfortune of another, but one of grand amusement and merriment.

Every ounce of mortification, disgust, and shame that had been building within her turned into consuming hatred and
rage. The pup whined and backed away from the assassin as she hurled herself with a scream at Dorian DeHavilliard,
intent on gouging out his throat, eyes, and mouth.

His laughter increased and he grabbed her wrists, holding her attack off as she bellowed her incoherent wrath at him.
As hard as she struggled, Celaena could not break free of his grasp to hit him across the face, strangle, or tear him to
bits. Instead, she retreated to verbal assault.

You son of a whoring bitch! You worthless piece of shit! You foul, wretched boy! How dare you tease me like that? Do
you have any idea how much that scared me? Do you have any idea what went through my mind? You thoughtless
jackass! I wanted to die when you said that! I should kill you! I should rip you into pieces! Aghhhhh!

Dorian tossed her back onto her bed roughly and continued to laugh and she sought to sort herself out. The runt was
pathetically whimpering from behind two of her pillows, her tail the only part of the body that was showing. Celaena
growled and, turning to the pillows that were not occupied by her new pet, beat down upon them with her fists,
imagining that each blow was instead bestowed upon the Crown Prince.

Im sorry, he breathed out, clutching his stomach. But youyou deserved that.

WHAT? The pillow became unsatisfactory and she lunged at him. To her humiliation and frustration, her flight from
the bed wasnt as successful as she would have liked. Celaena Sardothien somehow managed to get her feet tangled
in her blankets, sending her face-first into the carpeted ground as the rest of her body was draped over the edge of
her bed. She snarled viciously and slammed her fist into the side of the bed, openly glaring at the young man.

He was on the verge of tears now, and needed a hand on the table beside him to support himself from falling to the
ground.

Oh! Oh, my dear Celaena! He could scarcely speak. They say that laughter makes you live longer, but if I laugh any
more, I believe that I shall live forever!

If you laugh any more, youll only be alive for about two more minutes.

This seemed to calm Dorian to the point where he dared to approach her again. Come now my sweet lady, you could
never bear to harm me.

Celaena reached out to scratch him, but he dodged her blow swiftly. Want to make a bet on that? she barked.

Let me untangle your legs for you, he purred, nearing the bed.

Im not letting you near my legs.

Such a pity are you sure that you dont prefer women to men?

All that the Crown Prince got in reply was a pillow thrown in his face. He laughed and tossed it back on the bed.

As mad as she was, Celaena was still relieved that she hadnt made a spectacle of herself last night. But ratherwell,
what had she done?
You still havent told me what I did last night.

If you promise not to cook me alive, Ill tell you.

Very well, Celaena pulled herself back onto the mattress and sat up.

Dorian sat back down on the side of her bed and smiled sweetly. If you must know, you did nothing. You may have
said a few stupid things to Kaltain, but they fit in the moment. You have nothing to worry about. He picked at his
well-kept nails. The court loved you, by the way. I awoke this morning to a pile of notes from lords and ladies asking
me who was the charming, vivacious young lady that I had with me last night. Ill have a great deal of trouble making
up lies about

They liked me? Why, I barely talked to them! Celaenas spirits began to lift.

I can only suppose that they liked what they saw.

Even when I was drunk?

I dont even think they noticed.

Really?

No.

Damn you.

No, they didnt notice, Celaena. If they had, I doubt I would have received such high praise from them.

Youre positive?

If you ask me one more time, Ill give you the other answer.

Celaena glowered at him, and then turned to soothe the puppy out of its hiding place. Once it had succeeded in
resting on her lap, she returned her attention to the Crown Prince.

I really dont know what Im going to do with this thing, the assassin said with a frown. Ill wreck my rooms, wont
it?

Dorian chewed on his lip. I knowI considered that. Which is why Ive decided that during the day, while youre
occupied with other things, the pup is to train with its siblingsat least until the obedience training is complete. In the
evenings, she will stay with you. I will arrange for a servant to pick up and drop off your dog for you.

Isnt that a bit much for a present?

Its the easy way out, actually. Itd take far too long to find a suitable ownerand since the pup had only positively
reacted to you

And you also hadnt gotten me a Yulemas present.

You expected one? the Crown Prince raised an eyebrow.

No, but it fits into the story perfectly. And youre positive that she wont pee all over everything? And tear apart my
furniture and clothes?

Its already house brokenas to room destruction, I cant exactly promise that it wont. It will grow out of it, after a
time.

Celaena sighed and picked up the pup, looking into its young face. Its you and me, dog. You wont be too naughty,
will you? It licked her face in response. She smiled weakly. A dog was a bizarre gift. It was a beautiful animal, and
obviously had character. Butwould she be suitable for the dog? Its tongue wiped her face again. Why not give it a
try? Youll be a good companion, she said aloud, her decision made. Especially when you grow to your full size.
Youll be nice to have when Im alone in the night, and awaken to be terribly frightened.

Celaena set the dog down on the bed once more and ruffled its fur.

Raising her eyes, she looked up at the Crown Princes face. His blue eyes reflected the light of the afternoon sun so
brilliantly that for a moment she was held in awe. For a moment, there only existed those aquamarine orbs, shining
like stars within their own white galaxies.

Thank you, she whispered, her gaze never leaving his face. It is a wonderful gift.

He smiled at her, his perfect features lighting up in the sunshine. Youre welcome, Celaena Sardothien, he said
softly, his eyes burning into her own.

You fool, why must you be so handsome? Where did you come from, Crown Prince of Adarlan? From which star did
you fall? Or perhaps you have yet to fall from your celestial perchperhaps you still shine with unwavering majesty.
Will you give hope and direction to those who are lost? What will your fate be, my blazing star of the future?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Will be a good dog when it is oldvery good for hunting.

Thats my problemI dont hunt.

Princess Anuksun laughed. I teach you to huntI teach you when all is over, and we will ride across great grasslands
of Eyputiusunn with dog following behind. And then we eat great meal of meat to celebrate success of hunt.

Celaena couldnt help but grin. Anuksun, you may try to teach me, but I am afraid that I will be horrible at hunting. I
am horrendous at riding, and I suspect that to ride and hunt at the same time will have quite disastrous affects.

No, no! I teach and you learn good!

The assassin chuckled. Very wellyou will teach and I will learngood.

The princess nodded, satisfied and stroked the pups fur.

They had retired to Celaenas rooms after their days worth of training, the assassin eager to show the princess her
present. After two days free of Madam Tulrouse, Celaena had reluctantly returned to the courtly world. Fortunately,
five of the women had been asked to leavewomen who Celaena had never bothered to know. There were four of
them remaining: Celaena, Anuksun, Jodra, and Kaltain. Celaena was well aware that the training length had been
shortened due to the Kings growing impatience, an action that made the assassin more and more uneasy. In beauty,
Celaena had been told that it was an intense contest between herself and Kaltain Rompier, but in assassination
skillsWould she lose her freedom to Anuksun?

You will come to visit me in Eyputiusunn when all done?

Once free, Ill probably go to live with you in Eyputiusunn. That isif I even get to Wendlyn and back.

I would be honored to visit you in Eyputiusunn, Celaena said with all due respect.

The face of the princess fell and the girl looked away. Is not so much of honor anymore. When crown was broken
when crown taken from Eyputiusunn, honor is no longer part of land, her voice became quiet and she struggled to
continue. Fight to survivefight to keep traditions. No more royal house proudcrown gone and honor lost. Shame
is in royal house. Only way to keep glory is to keep Adarlan happy. Only way to keep happy is to become part of
Adarlan. Soon Eyputiusunn name no usesoon just Adarlan. Soon no more hunt, soon no more grassland. Soon only
factories. Soon no more, the voice of the princess broke and Celaena was terrified to see the girl in such a state of
emotional turmoil. So, the princess did hate Adarlan for conquering her country.
But what could she possibly say? What words could be found to comfort such a colossal loss? The princess had
confided in her the secret feelings of her landhow could she react? The amount of trust that Anuksun placed with
Celaena was heart-warming. To be able to trust another after being so terribly wounded was astounding to the
assassinto be able to live from day to day with that kind of sorrow

Anuksun Celaena began, knowing her path. She could offer no words of comfort, but she could meet Anuksuns
secret with one of her own. The princess looked up.

What is wrong, Lithaen? I no mean to sadden you with wordsjust silly talk

Celaena took a deep breath and considered her decision once again. Soon no more the words of her friend rang
through her head.

Anuksun, my name is not Lithaen Gordaina.

The girl opened her mouth, but Celaena raised a hand to silence her. My name is Celaena Sardothien. From the lack
of recognition on the princess face, Celaena knew that some explanation was in order.

I am also called Adarlans assassin. I am a professional assassinor I was three years ago. I killed people for money,
Anuksun. For six years my name was a source of fear and hatred in Adarlan. I was the best assassin the worldI
never failed.

What happen three years ago? Anuksuns face was calm, and she showed no signs of fright. Please, gods above, let
her understand

I was caught. A trap was laid for mea trap that I did not see. I was sent to work in the mines of Endovieras a
slave. If you do not believe me, upon my back are the scars from whippings. I worked for two and a half years in
those minestwo and a half years without seeing the sun. I saw men and women take their lives every dayI was
beaten and humiliated to the point where I wanted to kill myself as well.

But then Dorian DeHavilliard saved mehe took me from the mines and brought me hereto train with you, to go to
Wendlyn on their mission. And in exchange for doing their dirty work, I shall receive my freedom. I will be free if I
succeed.

I am Celaena Sardothien, Anuksun. I have no love for Adarlan either.

The princess was silent for some time. A silence that was more terrible than any whippings or beatings that she had
endured, for the fate of a friendship that mattered so much to her rested upon a scale that could be easily tipped in
either direction. Nothing could be said until Anuksun spokenothing could be done until she made her decision.

Finally, she spoke. Names are not important to me. Lithaen Gordaina, Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans assassin: all
same. You are your spirityou can possess many names. You say that you want to die in mines; you say that you get
beaten and whipped; you no see sun, you live in underworld. But you are alive. You not die. You have many names. I
have a name for you.

The Princess of Eyputiusunn leaned forward and traced her ebony fingers across Celaenas forehead. I name you
Elentulyai, she said softly and kissed the assassins brow. You treat me very great here in Adarlan, Elentulyaiyou
friend to me when I alone. You treat me great when you no need, and so I now give you name of Eyputiusunn. I give
you name that you use with honorI give you name to use when other names too heavy. I give you name for new
life. I name you Elentulyai: spirit that could not be broken.

Celaena was held in place. Her voice seemed to shut down.

You have accepted me into the innermost chambers of your heart, Anuksun. You trust me without questionyou give
me your friendship. In these past months, you have been a demonstration of what the world should bewhat it used
to be. You are a living representation of the earth before Adarlan: an earth where a little kindness can wipe away a
past of darkness. You are meant for a place better than this wasteland of a world. You and I are both meant for
something better than this.

Thank you, was all Celaena managed to get out from the whirling emotions in her mind. Thank you, Anuksun, she
repeated again. Anuksun nodded, and embraced the assassin, somehow understanding completely.
CHAPTER 24

And youre positive that you cant go wrong? Kaltain Rompier looked at the man in front of her and fought to keep
her excitement locked within her. The day of Lithaen Gordainas destruction had finally come. Tomorrow morning,
nothing would remain of the girl that would possibly get in her way.

The man smiled, revealing large gaps where more of his green-colored teeth should be. His sparse, oily brown hair
slithered in the dancing candlelight. Nothing could happen that would make this go wrong. As long as she stays out in
the gardens, Ill be able to finish the job without a problem. The informal way that he addressed her annoyed Kaltain
to no end, but the woman held her tongueshe had had enough trouble finding a suitable assassin in the first place.

After weeks of preparation and secret meetings, the killer who called himself Graev was ready. Her servants brought
him in through the back passages and stairwells that they used daily and he had been waiting in her rooms since
sundown. Graev was repulsive to look athis skin a sickly pale color and the whites of his eyes were dusted with
yellow, making their black irises gleam like the oil in his hair. His clothes were as dirty as his hands and the smell that
leaked from him was almost unbearable. But he didnt ask for much money, he had never been caught, and he had
never failed to kill those he was paid to destroy.

Kaltain ran an eye over the assortment of weapons Graev had strapped to his rail-thin body. She raised an eyebrow.
Shes a strong womanshe wont go down without a fight.

He ran a dirt-stained hand along the pommel of one of his daggers like a lover caressing its mate. The way I plan it,
he said with a slippery grin that made her want to cringe, she wont even have time to scream before her throat is on
the ground.

This was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. If anyone linked the death back to Kaltain, she would be ruined and
probably hanged. An uneasy feeling built within her stomach. Was it worth the risk?

Will you kiss me again? The drunken words of Lithaen had been haunting her thoughts these past three days. If they
were already on such intimate terms, drastic measures were necessary. She was born to be queenit was her
destiny. And no one, especially Lithaen Gordaina, was going to get in her way.

Her confidence came pouring back into her. When the Crown Prince learned of his beloveds untimely and brutal death
he would be distraught. She would be there, of course, to help him pick up the pieces of his broken heartshe would
be there to make him see that she was the one meant for him and that Lithaen had just been a waste of his time. Oh,
yes. The crown of Adarlan would soon be sitting upon her brow.

She and her friend are out in the south garden, Graev. Find a way to get her companion far enough away that the
girl will be unable to receive help. Shell be wearing fine clothinga fancy cloak perhaps. Dont leave a trace of your
presence or mine, or I will see to it that you are hanged. She pointed at the door dismissively and then turned back
to her mirror. Yes, this would all work out perfectly.

Behind her, Graev rose and drew his grimy coat around him, concealing his weapons. I will do as you wish. His voice
quivered with sick anticipation as he headed for the door.

Oh, and Graev? Kaltain called over her shoulder, pausing him in the doorway with her words. Lithaens drunken
insults ran through her head. Kaltain Rompier smiled viciously. Dorian was hers now.

See to it that she dies in the most painful way possible.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien strolled along the snow-coated paths of the south garden with Anuksun, using the moon as her
lantern. It was past dinner, but neither of them had cared to notice. The cold was an issue; the princesss sleeveless
shirt was so poorly suited for the cold that Celaena had given the girl her cloak to keep warm. To make up for the
freezing temperatures, their conversation had been stimulatingon one side at least. Anuksun had been busy asking
the assassin about her past lifeand Celaena had been occupied with evading most of her answers.

She had explained everything that had occurred in the past few months to Anuksun. She had explained everything
that had happened in the mines and her life as an assassin. But, in truth, there was much she didnt know about her
life before killing became her profession; which was a fact that Celaena did not like to dwell upon. There were too
many unanswered questions that the assassin kept at bay in the recesses of her mind. If they rose to the surface,
they would awake too many problems. There were things that she did not care to remember, things that she
regretted doingthings that she was ashamed to speak of.

They came to a fork in the path: one road led to her chambers, the other to Anuksuns. The girls smiled at each other,
embraced, and parted.

She reached the palace without problemonly stopping in the gateway to realize with a flourish of curses that
Anuksun was still wearing her cloak. With a turn of reason, she shrugged off the momentary burst of possessive
panic. Shed get it in the morning; it wasnt as if she needed the warm folds of fabric now.

Rubbing the warmth back into her hands, Celaena Sardothien made her way up to her rooms and then delighted in a
sinfully long bath.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Princess Anuksun walked down her own path, humming a hunting tune merrily to herself. There were only a few more
months until she could return home to Eyputiusunn. She didnt intend on going to Wendlynshe never had. Especially
now that Celaena Sardothiens freedom depended on it.

Anuksun hummed louder and lightened her step. Shed lose on purpose. Shed make a vital mistake before Madam
Tulrouse or one of their other instructors. Celaena Sardothien would win.

Once her friend returned home from Wendlyn, shed see to it that Celaena was welcomed into the royal house of
Eyputiusunn. Adarlan was not a country for Celaena Sardothien to live in anymore. It was a place that should be
occupied by no one but wretches like Kaltain Rompier and their wicked king.

However, she had hope for his sonshe had lots of hope for Dorian DeHavilliard. He was not like his father; he was
not yet corrupted by power. True, he was corrupted by many other things, but a lust for absolute authority was not in
his blood. He had a heart. How could he not? He cared for her friend as much as she did, if not more.

There had been many occasions on which the Princess of Eyputiusunn and the Crown Prince of Adarlan had spoken of
their assassin; and Anuksun had not missed the light that came into his eyes when they did. She also had not missed
the way he came alive around Celaena. While language had been a bit of a barrier for Anuksun in Adarlan, it had not
prevented her from reading situations like a book. It had not prevented her from seeing the obvious truth.

Perhaps Celaena would remain in Adarlan after all. Perhaps she would at last find happiness and peace within these
very grounds. Anuksun felt a sad sort of joy come over her at the prospect. Yes, perhaps Celaena would open up the
secrets in her heart to the man who so desperately loved her.

There was a crunch of snow behind her and Anuksun turned her head to see who it was. No one was in the gardens at
this time of nightespecially in this weather.

Before she could react, something cold and hard pressed itself against her throatsomething sharp. Her body seized
up in terror as the foul voice of her assailant filled her ears.

Scream and you die.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael stared at the pair of oak doors before him. He could hear the voice of Madam Tulrouse from within. His
heart was hurling itself against his chest and he felt sick to his stomach.

How could this have happened?

Images flashed across his vision and Chaol covered his face with his hands in an attempt to keep away the mortifying
sights. If this had been any ordinary crime, he wouldnt have been worried. It happened all the time. But to a
princessin a palace? The political world would explode into a tempest. This could end in a war. Or worse: he could
lose his job.
But, somehow, the prospect of war or disgrace seemed minimal to the task that he had at hand. Somehow, her
reaction would turn this heinous act into a reality. It all seemed to rest on her.

He had been standing outside the doors for the past five minutes, staring blankly at the wood. The world seemed to
be numb, but once he spoke her name aloud, once he saw her facethen it would hit him with full force.

He should have sent someone else to fetch herhe should have sent one of his guards. He could still do it, he could
still return without a companion to that room that smelled of death and pain. But he knew that he had to bring her
with him. She had to know sooner or laterand perhaps she might know something: a clue or connection that might
prevent a revolution from rising.

Youre the Captain of the Guard. Snap out of it.

Gathering himself together, Chaol opened the doors with surprising strength. Three heads turned towards him. Not
four. The room was so empty.

He looked at a spot on the wall as he enteredhe could not bear to watch her face. Chaol held the door open and
turned to look at the hallway from which he had just come. Lithaen Gordaina, please come with me.

You coward, you pathetic coward. But, despite his self-reprimand, Lord Chaol Wydrael could not bring himself to look
at her face.

He heard the sound of a chair moving and he felt a figure walk past him into the hallway. Chaol motioned her to
follow, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him.

They got some distance before she spoke, and her words fell around him like an avalanche. The images that he had
seen fifteen minutes ago burned into his eyes until there was nothing else that he could see.

Whats wrong? she asked softly, as if she already knew the answer, but was afraid of hearing it. She couldnt know.
Unless she was involved. But why would she want to do something so horrible how could anyone do anything so
horrible? Why, in the name of all thats good and pure, would anyone rape and slaughter Princess Anuksun of
Eyputiusunn?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien read Chaols face like a book. He didnt reply to her; he just led her down passageways and up
staircases in a mood that resembled a trance. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Chaol was never beside himself
like thishe never failed to answer her.

Sick anticipation welled beneath her skin. Anuksun hadnt showed up to their lessons this morning. Something was
wrong. She could feel it.

Her dread ate away at her strength, devouring all other thoughts and emotions. Was she sick? Had she hurt herself?
No, Chaol would have told her. But what else could possibly have occurred within the safe walls of the palace?

He stopped in front of a door and stared at the handle, as if by looking at it, he could open it. Was this the door to
Anuksuns room? There were voices insidemale voices. Doctors? GoodAnuksun would need the best help for her
mysterious illness.

You go in. Ill be with you in a minute, he said so softly that she almost didnt hear him and walked away. Celaena
stood before the door for a moment more, gathering her strength, before she opened it and walked inside.

Her eyes first fell upon Dorian DeHavilliard and the other four men in the room. Then she saw what was lying on the
table before them.

The world shattered from around her.

Her heart stopped beating, her body stopped working, and a state of numbness settled over her as she stared
unblinkingly at the corpse.
On the long, wooden table laid the remains of Princess Anuksun of Eyputiusunn.

Her beautiful black hair had been chopped off, leaving it cut closely to her head like a doll mercilessly mutilated by a
wicked child. Where there should have been two shining black eyes there were only twisted holes of ravaged skin and
blood. The thick lips that had renamed her were frozen and lifeless. The throat that should have been breathing was
goneripped from her body. Her breasts were bruised and cut deeplyone sliced off entirely; the heart that should
have been beating beneath was gone too. And where there should have been a taught stomach, there was a fountain
of defrosting organs pouring from a black pit.

Her fingers were all smashed, and upon closer observation, her toes had all been destroyed as well. But perhaps the
most horrific sight was her broken knees and elbowssnapped in two so badly that they were bent in the opposite
direction. Her clothes had been ripped from her, and from the bruises and cuts on her thighs, Celaena could tell what
other violation had occurred. Never, not in all her life, had Celaena seen such a dismembered and ravaged body.

In the recesses of her mind, she heard Dorian DeHavilliard order the men to leave the room. She heard him speak her
name. But she didnt acknowledge it. All that she could see was the corpse: frozen from the cold, the very
representation of the world that Celaena had left behind her.

The carcass burned into her skull. It burned until it hurt to look upon it.

Celaena

Celaena ignored the Crown Prince and took a final look at the body.

Anuksun

Then, without a word, Celaena Sardothien diverted her eyes from the corpse and left the room, taking with her all of
the horror that she had just seen.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard stared at the door through which she had just left. Not a single reaction. Her face had been
expressionlessher eyes had turned hollow and void of emotion. He had expected her to react, to cry, to scream, to
try to kill someone, but, in the end, she had just stood there like a statue, unmoving and unfeeling.

Two guards had found Princess Anuksuns body this morning, frozen in the gardens, her blood and organs staining the
snow around her. Her heart had been protruding from her mouth and her eyeballs were placed in the hole that was
now her throat.

When he had first seen the body, Dorian DeHavilliard had been so overwhelmed by the horrific sight and stench that
for ten minutes straight, he did nothing but hurl up his breakfast.

But Celaena had done none of that. No questions, nothing.

Something was wrong.

He left the room as fast as his feet could carry him and asked the physicians outside which way the girl had gone.

Following their directions, he followed after her in a panicked frenzy. What if she did something? What if she tried to
kill anyone? Or herself? Would she do that?

She came into sight and the Crown Prince stopped. She was walking, but very slowly, her hand on the wall beside her
as support. Every step seemed to take more effort than the last. Then, with a moan of emotional agony, she
collapsed.

He was running before he even noticed that his feet were moving. The sound of her pain-filled sobs filled his ears like
war drums. Dorian reached her and knelt down on the ground beside her. He had never seen a woman cry before. He
never thought hed live to see Celaena Sardothien fall upon her knees and weep.
But she was doing so now, her sobs little less than screams. She fiercely clenched and unclenched her blond hair with
her hands and her face turned an unattractive shade of red. Her breath came quickly, in deep gasps, and she looked
as if she were going to make herself sick.

Dorian cautiously touched her shoulder. Celaena? He watched a mix of fright and curiosity as her tears splashed
upon her dress.

She didnt respond.

Celae

Do you have any idea what terror she must have experienced before she died? she said, her voice shaking like a leaf
caught in the wind. That trapped helplessness? To die in such violated sha her voice broke and she sucked in air
with such force to steady herself that for a moment, Dorian was afraid shed pass out from her corset bindings.
Shame, she finished, her voice trembling so badly that it broke the word into several syllables and octaves.

She, Celaena grasped her hair so firmly that it appeared that she would rip it from her scalp, she didnt even want
to be here. She wanted to help her country. Sheshe, Celaena groaned in misery and, despite her corset, buried her
face in her lap.

He touched her shoulder and almost retreated in fright when she brushed his arm away savagely. You killed her! she
screamed viciously as the revelation came upon her.

Dorian felt for his sword. She had gone insane.

She raised bloodshot eyes to his face, her hair in such disarray that she looked like a madwoman. You killed her,
she snarled. You and your father and your country. You destroyed her country. You destroyed her hope. You brought
this upon her. All because of p-p-pow-- her voice was overcome by sobs again and she covered her face with her
hands.

Dorian almost sighed in relief. She wasnt going to try to kill him. She was just taking this all at once. From the
extremity of her wailing, he could tell that this was the first time she had wept in a while. This wasnt just Anuksuns
deaththere were several other things behind her tears.

SheGods above, why her? Celaena moaned. What did she do? If I hadif I had He had never seen anyone in so
much pain before. What should he do? Adarlans assassin was weeping before him, almost mad with grief.

He looked at the flow of tears falling onto her dress. No, not Adarlans assassin. Celaena Sardothien, who despite her
occupation was still a capable of cryingshe was still a human being.

She was a woman in agony who didnt know what to do deal with the pain other than to cry. She was a woman who
he cared about more than he liked to admit. She was the woman who he

He reached out suddenly and pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly. Her friend was deadno, not dead,
slaughtered. What would anyone do in this situation but provide comfort? He stroked her head and whispered
soothing words into her ear, grateful on many levels to find that she had no objections to being held by him.

I told her who I was, Dorian, she said after some time, her voice much more stable. I told her my real name. And
and she didnt care. She didnt seem to mindshe liked me despite my bloodstained hands. SheOh, gods above,
Dorian, why her? What did she do? Her strength began to slip again and her words stumbled and staggered. Dorian
tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head fiercely.

Why wasnt it me? Why wasnt the bastard waiting down the path I took? Why didnt I take an extra minute to speak
to her?

Dont blame yourself, he said softly, though he meant it with all the earnestness in his heart. It was not your fault
a minute more or a different path wouldnt have mattered: if you had been there, you would have been killed too.
Take it as a gift; take it as fate that you took the different path. Take it to mean anything you like, but do not blame
yourself. His grip on her body tightened to emphasize his words.

Her only response was to bury her face in his chest and let her sorrow consume her once more.
 O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Hours later, Dorian DeHavilliard stared at her face as she slept. She had wept herself into a heavy sleep in the
hallway, requiring him to carry her back to her rooms. Of course, he hadnt left. No, not when she was in this
condition.

Her color had returned to its normal shade of ivory, but her tangled and messy hair was a tribute to the anguish that
she had gone through that morning. His guilt for having taken so long to try to ease her pain held him glued to her
bedsideshe wouldnt have hesitated to help him if he had been in her position. Hed make it up to her.

You have transformed, my assassin. You have become mortal. But I like you this way. I like you this way very much.
You, who can hold me captive with your words as well as your beauty. You, who would befriend a princess not
because of her title, but because she was a girl tormented by others. You, who would cry like an infant at the loss of a
friend. You who would spit in Deaths face if he came your way. You, who fell from heaven, yet have now redeemed
yourself to the celestial company of the stars. You, my beautiful, wonderful Celaena Sardothien.

As if in response to his thoughts, her eyes opened. They were not filled with pain or remorse, but rather a deadly
calm. However, these were not eyes on the verge of breaking. These were eyes that were at peace with something
eyes that were filled with a purpose. He didnt dare to breathe.

Without raising her head from her pillow, she stared at the Crown Prince with those wretched eyes. I have a favor to
ask of you, your highness, was all that she said.

CHAPTER 25

Celaena Sardothien stalked through the streets of Renaril, cloaked in darkness. To the ordinary passerby, she might
have been nothing more than a caliginous shadow cast across a dimly lit street. To the more observant, she would
have appeared as a person not to be trifled with; a person who would have no qualms about bringing you into her
dark cocoon with no intention of letting you leave alive. In either case, Celaena hunted with no interference.

These back streets were the epitome of filth. Sewage and puddles of excrement lay beneath almost every window;
and the cobblestone streets were in need of serious repair. The buildings were cracked and misshaped like smashed
stones, and candlelight was a rare commodity. The drunken antics of the unfortunate souls who lived within this
broken world could be heard from every direction. At this time of night the cheap taverns were filled to the brim with
those who sought to drown their problems away until the sun rose through the bars of their prison, turning this hellish
nightmare into a real one of rotting stone and flesh.

Even as Adarlans assassin she had avoided this part of Renaril, taking heed to the admonishments of her mentors. In
the past three years the crime level had gotten worse, but none of that mattered right nowthis was where her
quarry nested.

Celaena knew that whoever had committed the crime did not live in the palaceno one there, no matter how corrupt,
was that skilled or ruthless. For an aristocrat or worker, a few stabs in the heart or a slit throat would have done the
job. What had occurred was a twisted form of artworka sick practice that she had once taken a part of. It had
occurred to Celaena that this might be some form of punishment for her previous heinous crimes, but she had not
allowed the idea to outweigh the task at hand.

She knew that once given the permission to slaughter, an assassin was left up to his or her own devices. If it had
been a while since their latest kill, they would take longer and delight in it, being as efficiently creative as possible.
Since her capture, the assassin market had stalled considerablynone dared to hire and no assassin wanted to put
their services up for sale. In that sense, her enslavement had had the effect that the King had wanted: it had scared
many out of their professions and had put many out on the streets, yearning for gold and blood. No one had risen to
her empty throne in the past three yearsinstead they had all crumbled to pieces.

Now, in this spoiled spot of earth, all the cutthroats, impoverished, and outcasts of Adarlan were gathered, living
together in a world where each day brought about more pain and horrorforever trapped in an ashen prison of misery
and despair.

It was here that she would find what she had been seeking for the past few hours. It was here that her first step at
revenge would be taken. The assassin responsible for the murder was skilled and had probably received a haughty fee
for his services, which would eventually lead him to a tavern. She knew at which ones he would be foundthings had
hardly changed in a few years. The assassin wouldnt have left Renariloh, no, of course notespecially now that the
market seemed to be opening up once again. If there was one rich person that was willing to pay for the assassination
of a helpless princess, there might be more, many more, which had been waiting for a long time

Celaena turned a corner and looked down the street in front of her. Yes, this was the one. Candlelight and drunken
laughter leaked from the few windows of a tavern that was buried between two slanted houses. A few drunks littered
the street outsidedead or simply asleep she did not know.

She emerged from the shadows as nothing more than a wisp of some hellish demon, seen and then gone in the blink
of an eye through portal of light.

The tavern smelled strongly of ale and unwashed bodies. It was lit strategically: bright near the front tables and bar,
but dim in the back for those who sought not to be seen.

As the black figure strode into the tavern some laughter halted suddenly afraid that whoever was hidden beneath
those folds of black cloak and shadow might be after them. But she paid them no heed and stalked over to the bar,
her eyes upon the man behind the counter.

The bartender was a fat and pale man with sparse hair; and his color became even more pallid as the stranger
approached him. He tried in vain to see beneath the cowlto try to catch a glimpse of the face of this nameless fear
that had appeared, but his eyes only found the darkness of the night lurking within. Nothing about this person
revealed anything save that they had come to his bar for something more than a drink.

In truth, that was how Celaena had wanted it. She had dressed entirely in black, from the ends of her boots to the
black cape and cowl that hid her face. To ensure that her face was not seen (and possibly recognized), she wore a
black mask beneath her hood, making her more demon than human, even to herself. Lost within her flowing cloak
was an assortment of the tools of her crafteach more vicious than the last, each selected with one purpose:
revenge. However, none of these weapons or dire clothing could compare to the cold fury that had encased her heart.
It consumed her, blinding all other thoughts from her mind save one. But, in the end, Celaena knew that this was the
only way that she would be capable of seeking revenge. It was with this attitude that she had become Adarlans
assassin those many years ago.

The tender gripped the edge of the counter to keep his hands from shaking. Surely this was some servant of the dark
god sent to drag him to an eternity of torture!

Those seated closest to where she stopped moved away silently.

Celaena stopped and leaned over the edge of the bar, causing the bartender to step back in fear. He kept a dagger
beneath the raised table, but he somehow knew that a dagger would not work on this creaturenothing could
possibly save him from this cloaked shadow except the light of the sun.

I have come to inquire after a man, she said slowly, her voice scratchy and deep from behind the mask. A man who
recently earned a large sum of gold for the assassination of a young woman. Where might I find him?

The few who had heard the sexless voice exchanged worried glances before they felt for their weapons. Officers of law
were not welcome within this part of Renaril.

The bartender shook all over, his fear taking control of him. I-I know n-nothing, he stuttered, using his bar like a
barricade, going so pale that he appeared to be a ghost unwilling to be taken away by the god of death who stood
before him.

Celaena reached a hand into a hidden pocket and drew forth a fistful of jewels and gold that glittered wickedly in the
light of the bar.

Allow me to repeat my question, bartender.

Graev fled through the streets of Renaril, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Something was following
himsomething not human. He turned down the maze of streets, desperately seeking the slanted building in which he
made his home, but in the process of trying to lose his hunter, he had managed to lose himself. He cursed himself for
bringing that large bag of gold with him to the bar tonightit had attracted too much attention and these days a man
would do anything for just a days worth of bread. Even kill.
He couldnt hear footsteps, but he knew that someone was behind him, melting in and out of shadows and mist. Since
he had killed that bitch two days ago, his nerves had been on overdrive. It was only after he returned to the light of
his room and examined the trophies that he had brought with him had his worries started. The hair that should have
been blond was ebony and the skin that was still attached to certain parts of her body was a creamy chocolate. He
had killed the wrong girl. What if this hunter was sent from Lady Kaltain? Or even worse: the Royal Guard. He had
heard of their merciless fighting techniques

His trot turned into a run as he frantically attempted to shake his stalker. Graev turned swiftly down a street and was
halfway down it before he realized that it was a dead-end.

His eyes wild with anticipated terror, the man shifted to face to the open street behind him. Blue mist drifted by
silently and there was no sign of the hunter. Perhaps he had lost him.

And then the figure appeared. It came through the fog like a ghostly vapor, itself barely more than a shadow of
darkness, and it did not appear to be stopping. Graev turned on his heel and fled towards the end of the street, only
stopping once he had slammed into the stone. It was too high to scale.
His body began to shake violently as he turned to face the evil being. PleaseI can explainif its gold that you want,
Ill give you everything.

The demon said nothing and pulled a wicked-looking dagger down from the air around it.

Graev felt his legs go weak. All that he had was a throwing knife and what good would that do against this demon?
Mercy, I beg of you! he whined, throwing himself upon his knees. Ill do anything. Have mercy! He clasped his
hands together and trembled.

Mercy? You dont deserve mercy. Its voice was almost as terrible as its appearanceleaving no doubt in Graevs
mind that this was indeed the dark god come to punish him. Graev felt tears of fright slip down his cheeks as the
monster took a few steps forward.

The last thing he saw was his lifes blood spraying up into his eyes.

Dorian DeHavilliard stared at the message on the wall and turned away, determined to keep his stomach down this
time. He had been called down this morning with Chaol to examine the murder sceneto see if it had any connection
with the death of the princess. Even though it had occurred in the slums of Renaril, it was of such a grotesque and
violent nature that it had everyone talking. The body still lay as it had been found, yet masses of people, rich and
poor, flocked to the site, determined to see the carcass and the warning which had been so clearly inscribed upon the
wall behind it. But perhaps what fascinated and drew fear into the hearts of all who lay eyes upon the crime scene
was the final touch of the murder, the icing that topped the cake. Protruding from the heart of the dead man was a
single golden arrow.

Those who saw the arrow knew in an instant who had been responsible for this. Some whispered to rush to a temple
to confess their sins. Some clutched each other or wept in fear.

Deaenna, the Huntress, was riding through Renaril.

The wrecked body of the man dwarfed the ruins of Anuksun by far. There was not one piece of his corpse intact, but
perhaps this was due to the fact that most of it lay splattered and nailed upon the stone wall of the dead-end.

There, upon the soiled stone, was a written message out of the victims skin, organs, bones, and blooda message
that had engraved itself upon his mind.

Around every corner, under every stone Ill be waiting. The time has come to repay a debt long in the making. The
time has come for the silent to find a voice. Soon, you too will learn the meaning of agony.

He had no doubt in his mind who had written those words. He had given her permission to hunt down and kill the
man, but to this extent

Dorian glanced at the circle of innards that surrounded the man and gagged. She had written another message out of
the mans blood in a patch of snow near his head. This one, while more pleasant to look at than the variety of body
parts on the wall, effected him just as much.
Mercy, was all it said.

How could Celaena, his Celaena, have done this to someone? How could she possibly have committed this crime? This
was not the Celaena he knew. He

Dorian felt fear clutch his stomach in a tight fist. He had given her permission to do thisgiven her written permission
that for a week she was free to hunt down and kill all who she saw responsible for the murder of the princess. She
had worded the document specifically and now he knew why. She wasnt just going to kill Anuksuns assassin.

She was going to kill all of Adarlans assassins.

What had he done? If his father found out

To worsen the situation, Chaol approached him and glared at the young prince openly. Chaol was hardly ever angry
with him, but Dorian knew that now was one of those rare occasions. Chaol knew.

Youre a fool, Dorian DeHavilliard, the Captain of the Guard growled. An absolute fool. And with that, Chaol left the
alley, several of his guards following behind him.

Dorian took one more look at the ravaged body and the golden arrow that glinted like a ray of sunshine in the fog. It
seemed to shimmer with its own brilliance, as if it really were an arrow of the Maiden Goddess. The Crown Prince
observed the faces of those gathered near the corpse. Out of all of them, he noticed and remembered one. A girl, no
older than twenty, was smiling at the golden arrow.

Her smile was not filled with malice or evil, but rather the oppositeit was gentle and somewhat sad, yet subtly
glowing with a sense of victory.

Perhaps to one person this was not a slaughter of the grossest degree. Perhaps to one girl the shining arrow was a
sign that she had long desired and hoped forher savior had finally arrived.

Over the course of the next week six more murders occurred. While none of them were as terrible as the first, they
each had their own distinct warning. By the fourth day, there was such an influx of criminals begging to be put in jail
that the prison was filled to the brim from bread thieves to rapists. They turned themselves in by the dozens,
preferring the safety of the prison to the uncertain freedom of the streets. To them, they were just as liable for
gruesome murder as any other scumespecially now that a maniacal murderer was lose and bent on vengeance.

The unknown avenger of evil deeds became somewhat of a legend and hero amongst the defenseless of Renaril. It
was a well-known fact that those slaughtered were notorious rapists and killers who had long evaded the sword of
justice.

From this, women gained confidence, some even dared to walk alone at night. They appropriately named their savior
The Huntress, and it came to Dorians knowledge that the women of the city were now using her name as a warning
to men: whatever happened to the women of the city came back upon their abusers tenfold. Somehow, The Huntress
always found those who needed to be punished. Somehow The Huntress always knew where they were hiding.

Some said that The Huntress was Deaenna herself and that she could be seen riding through the streets of the city
with her hounds close behind. Others insisted that The Huntress was the ghost of the princess who had been so
brutally murdered. But only a select few dared to suggest that The Huntress was a person a flesh and bloodand
worse than that: a woman.

But none of this frenzy would have happened if the smile of that anonymous girl hadnt had a profound impact upon
the Crown Prince. It was so marked in his mind that he allowed for Celaena to continue on with her contract, hoping
that some good might come from the terror that she spread throughout Renaril. Thankfully, he had been right.

His father, while he had suspected Celaena of the murders, had been too busy dealing with Anuksuns mother and
father to do any serious investigating. The king and queen of Eyputiusunn were consumed with sorrow and were
naturally pointing all fingers at Adarlan for her death. Day after day, the King of Adarlan dealt with them before his
council, rarely requiring his sons attendance and hardly having time to think about the murderer loose in the city.

Hopefully, The Huntress would have ridden off into the sunset before his father had time to throw Celaena Sardothien
back into the mines.
Chaol had been more of an obstacle than his fatherand in the end, Dorian had resorted to what he always did when
things didnt go his way: ordering Chaol to not speak a word of this to his father or his guards. Naturally, Chaol
always took commands seriously, but even his friend had trouble with this one. Dorian knew that Chaol was torn
between his duty as Captain of the Guard and his duty as a companion of Celaena Sardothien. In the end, the latter
had thankfully won out.

Dorian hadnt seen her since he had signed the documenthe hadnt the courage to look upon her face just yet. Not
until today at least. He was now waiting for herto make sure that their deal was complete. Dorian hoped that this
warped form of murder and vengeance was her way of coping with her friends deathand that after tonight she
would be at peace with whatever desires and pain still burning within her chest.

Seated within her drawing room, Dorian DeHavilliard glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing three in the
morning. He had been here since midnight, hoping that her last night out would be a short one. But, as it seemed to
have turned out, Celaena Sardothien had other plans on her mind.

Perhaps shes decided to kill more than oneto catch the remaining ones on the streetsOr perhaps A disturbing
thought burst into his mind. What if shes been caught? What if shes lying in the gutter or splattered on a wall?

His heart began to beat faster and anxiety took over his nerves. What if that this moment shes being torn to pieces
by some criminal who was too hard to kill? What if shes dead? To lose Anuksun and Celaena in a weekto lose
Celaena

Dorian propped his elbows up on the table and held his head between his hands, closing his eyes in an attempt to
shut out the terrible thought. You cant be dead. Id know if you were dead. Id feel it.

The sound of a doorknob being twisted clicked through the air, sending Dorian flying to his feet. She was alive! She
wasnt dead! Oh, thank you gods! Thank you!

But the figure that came through the door was not Celaena. No, it was a creature of the nighta monster of pure
darkness and shadow. It closed the door silently behind it, and did not notice the Crown Prince until it had taken a few
steps into the room. The caliginous person halted its step and stood perfectly still, like an immortal being of old.

Was this what she looked like when she was on the killing edge? Clothed entirely in black, her face hidden deep within
her cowl? Her victims never saw the face of their killerhow disturbing, to die only seeing darkness towering over
you

What are you doing in here? she asked, her voice warped so severely that it sounded subhuman. How can you
manipulate your voice like that?

She was terrifying to look athe could barely stand the sight of her, but male pride refused to allow him to lower his
eyes. I thought Id wait up for you, he said slowly.

Celaena threw back the hood and revealed her secret to a lack of a facea black mask. She removed it and unbound
her shimmering hair, regaining some amount of her humanity. He could regard her face now that it was normalnow
that it did not belong to the night.

But her eyesChills went down his arms. Her eyes were so cold and bleak, so void of feeling or life. This was not the
Celaena he knew. Where was that sparkle; that soft sorrow buried beneath that wild joy?

You shouldnt have, she replied curtly and tossed her mask on the table. Her voice, while back to normal, was as
empty as her eyes. He had never heard her speak this way; he had never seen her so distant. Youve changed.

Dorian shifted on his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. Where was the Celaena that he knew? Who was this woman of
merciless ice? Even her posture had changed to that of an aloof and frozen grace. The angles of her face appeared
sharper, and her long white neck gave her the air of a swan.

She seemed to be taking no heed of him and was in the process of removing her black leather gloves from her hands.
Dorian, slightly irritated by this, cleared his throat.

I take it that youre done with your nightly escapades? he said bluntly, raising an eyebrow impatiently.
Celaena turned her face towards him slowly, so slowly that when her eyes fell upon him it felt as if he were standing
before the Great Goddess herself on his judgment day.

I was given one week. My task is done. Her commanding tone seemed to melt all of the fear within him into
impatience and irritation. How dare you take that tone of voice with me, the Crown Prince of Adarlan? While you may
have purged the streets of filth, you are not above me, Celaena Sardothien.

You certainly found a suitable way to warp my words to your own desires, he snapped.

She shrugged and raised her chin, beginning to unfasten her cloak. I did what was necessary, the assassin said
coolly.

You abused the power I gave you, he growled.

Celaena gave him another icy stare, her hands pausing at the strings of her cloak. If I did, it was for your countrys
own good. How did she manage to keep her voice so calm? Who is this woman?

His temper was only fueled by her lack of emotional involvement. You have no right to do anything for the sake of
my country. I gave you permission to kill one person, perhaps two, not seven or only the gods know how many youve
sliced to pieces!

With a haughty noise, she returned to her cloak. I dont see why youre getting so worked up, your highness.

Your highness? Ever since Anuksun died, youve called me that. Are you distancing yourself from me? Or have you
just returned to your old ways? No, if you had, you wouldnt be here right now. Youd be long gone.

You should go to bed, she said, not as a suggestion, but as a dismissal. She, Celaena Sardothien, who was at his
mercy, was commanding him!

Whats wrong with you? he burst out, taking a step towards her. He knew that it was dangerous to do soespecially
when she was armed and on the killing-edge. But something was wrong with hersomething was amiss with his
Celaena

Wrong? she asked and shifted her body to face him. Her face was so deadly calm, so void of anything but ice
Theres nothing wrong. Why is your voice so dead?

You arent yourself, he snarled.

Perhaps this is my real self, Crown Prince. Celaena cocked her head to the side and raised her brows
condescendingly.

His fears, aggravations, and doubts came falling upon him like a waterfall. They filled him with such terror and despair
that he couldnt keep the fire of his passions out of his voice. Every pent-up worry that had sprung to his mind in the
past three hours went flying from his throat in the form of his words.

No! This isnt you! he roared. You arent like this, Celaena! Gods above, I know you! You arent like this! You
youre none of this! Youre none of this killing and fighting and hating! Youre above that! Youre not like them! You
told me yourself you only did it to survive! You only did this to avenge Anuksun! You dont belong in this worldyou,
you and I, we belong somewhere else! Celaena, Celaenaoh, gods, this isnt you! Just tell me whats wrongjust let
me help you! His voice dropped to a moan. Celaena, pleasethis isnt you

She raised her brows. How would you possibly know what Im like, your highness? Why would you possibly care?
Her voice was so distant, so cool, so awfully void of feeling.

Dorian, on the other hand, was at a complete opposite. His mind and heart were spinning with emotions that he could
barely contain. From this helpless disposition, he finally began to understand. Realization dripped into his heart like a
dam about to burst open. It was all beginning to break free

Because II His tongue stalled as his heart beat wildly, so afraid of this new revelation that he felt like vomiting.
That nauseated feeling only increased when she spoke her next words.
Oh, she said softly, her voice like cold fire as she read his face. Celaena stared up at him and smiled darkly, her
eyes like frozen lakes. The room seemed to drop a few degrees as she said with sudden savagery, You are the Crown
Prince of Adarlan; I am Adarlans assassin. In what world could we ever have existed?

The blow was far worse than any physical wound she could have ever inflicted upon him. It was with these words that
the dam of the feeling that he had kept at bay for so long burst open, drowning him in it. His breath caught in his
throat and her words repeated themselves through his mind, catching him in a whirlpool where two dead eyes awaited
him at the bottom.

His body beginning to tremble, Dorian turned from Celaena and fled.

He ran from the room and down the hall, running so fast that soon doors and hallways all began to look alike. He was
trying in vain to escape ithe was trying to escape her.

Dorians feet pounded against the marble floors as he flew up flight after flight of stairs, heading for the tower that he
made his home in. No matter how swiftly he ran, it was always at his heels

Dorian reached the top flight and flung open the door to his rooms. His manservant must have heard him coming for
the poor man was standing by the door, waiting to help his master to bed, but Dorian told him off with a wave of his
hand.

The Crown Prince flew into his bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind him before he threw himself down
upon his bed, burying his face in his pillow.

Words, faces, and images roared through his mind like a raging river. He could scarcely breathe.

This isnt happening to me. This cant be true.

In what world could we ever have existed? Her words sliced at him, causing such a fierce pain to grasp his heart that
he touched his chest to make sure that it was still beating.

Oh, gods above, make this not true.

The universe seemed to be crashing in all around him: his bed set adrift in a whirling sea of chaos. He couldnt hold it
back any longerhe couldnt fight what he had been battling for weeks now. Or had it been months? How long had it
been?

His heart writhing in agony, Dorian DeHavilliard bit down on the pillow to muffle the tortured scream of despair that
burst from his throat. Hot tears slipped down his cheeks.

He, Dorian DeHavilliard, was in love with Celaena Sardothien.

CHAPTER 26

Thunder boomed in the night sky, sending its explosive roar throughout the world. Rain and wind beat on the glass
windows like a demon against the door of a place in which his evil demeanor would not permit him to enter. The air
inside the house was tinted a midnight blue and filled with such electricity that made those beneath the roof of the
house turn over uneasily in their sleep.

There was one, however, who did not sleepone whose large eyes were clenched shut so tightly that her whole body
shook beneath the safety of layers of blankets. The monstrous battle cry of thunder racked her body and mind,
causing her to bite down on the hand of the doll that she clutched to her chest to keep from screaming aloud. Even in
the darkness of her blanket-enshrouded world, the evanescent lightning still managed to flash its stark-white fury.

Thunder crashed again, shaking the entire house. Unable to control herself, the girl burst like a bat out of hell from
beneath the blankets and into the hallway, her heart mercilessly hurling itself against her chest. She flew down the
corridor, lightning flashing so brightly that it stunned her momentarily. Shadows and monsters lurked everywhere
some moving, some waiting for an unwary victim to fall into their claws. The house moaned and wailed, wishing it
could give into the storm that sought to destroy it so completely.
The girl stopped at a door she had seen thousands of times and her small hand reached out to grasp the handle. Her
fear of the storm finally mixing with her terror of the sure disappointment that awaited her from those inside, her
tensed muscles and heightened anxiety burst from her like a dam. Unwanted sobs of horror slipped from her throat as
she pushed open the door, the bedroom inside momentarily illuminated by another sheet of lightning. Two figures lay
sleeping in a large canopied bed, each lying as still as

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

With a gasp, Celaena Sardothien awoke from her dream. Her insides shaking as much as her hands, she fumbled in
the dark for the matchbox that lay on her night table. Once she had found it, it took her several tries to get it lit.

The assassin looked at the room around her, trying to calm her beating heart with deep, assured breaths. It was as
still as death, a place eerily preserved by the solitude of the night. There was no rain, there was no thunder, and
there was no lightning. Beside her, Fleetfoot, the runt puppy who had been given to her by Dorian DeHavilliard,
stirred and burrowed her head under Celaenas arm reassuringly.

It was only a dream.

But it wasnt just a dream, was it? Celaena knew the answer, and perhaps that was why her nerves refused to be
calmed. She had had this dream beforemany times, in fact. It was never finished, but the assassin preferred it not
to be. She knew how it would end.

Watching the dim light of the candle glow weakly throughout the room, Celaena burrowed back under the covers and
watched caliginous shadows dance until sleep overtook her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Kaltain Rompier turned over in her bed, unable to fall and remain asleep. Dreams of terror and rage hunted her, and
the burden of her thoughts was so heavy that it outweighed even the sleep pressing upon her eyelids.

Kaltain opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. The bastard had killed Anuksun Ytger. No, she had killed
Anuksun, and the person that had slaughtered Graev knew. It would only be a matter of time before The Huntress
came after her.

How could Graev have possibly gotten Lithaen and Anuksun confused? This was a catastrophe.

Dorian DeHavilliard was further away than he had ever beenAnuksuns death had brought him straight into the arms
of Lithaen. If she hadnt been the one who had hired Graev, Kaltain would have suspected Lithaen of being behind the
princess death. After all, who knew what that wench was capable of? Her ego is probably sky-high right now. She
thinks that because shes been called in for questioning before the Royal Council, shes a person of importance.
Importance indeed. Once Im on the throne, Ill have her shipped off to work in the mines of Endovier.

Kaltain smiled. The thought of her crown was always a calming one. It had always been. After her mother had died,
Kaltain somehow had begun to realize that she was going to exceed her mothers beauty and charm. She knew that
she would gain what her mother had always sought in vain to be: Queen. At the age of eight, dreams of a crown and
a title became the replacement for a mother she had barely known. Kaltain Rompier was more attached to the idea of
royalty than she was to any person or possession on the earth.

Which was why, when Duke Perringtonn had offered to bring her to the palace, she hadnt said no. The prospect of
being near Dorian DeHavilliard and his court for a long period of time fulfilled her wildest fantasies. Who cares about
some quest for Adarlans glory and power? Going to Renaril would mean shed be able to court Dorian DeHavilliard
and inevitably win what was her birthright.

Kaltain could barely even remember what she and the remaining women were competing for. What had Perringtonn
said those many months ago? Something about Wendlyn and training andKaltain turned over on her side, unable to
get comfortable, and frowned. Why were they learning about swords and weapons and all of that stuff that she
couldnt find a name for? Why was she, Kaltain Rompier, spending her time with manly, uncultured women like Jodra
Nustrom and Lithaen Gordaina? Why had she been asked to compete with them? Surely Perringtonn didnt consider
her to be on the same level as those brutes!

No, he couldnt.
But what am I doing here then? Ive watched girls disappeartheyve been narrowing the list down. Now that there
are only three, one of us will be chosen soon. But for what? I was too hasty to accept Perringtonns offer before even
understanding why he was asking me to go. These past few months Ive been so busy with courting the Crown Prince
that Ive hardly questioned the monotonous training routinesespecially the physical requirements. If I didnt know
better, Id say that theyre looking for a bride for Dorian DeHavilliard. But he doesnt like rough, fighting women! He
likes delicate flowers, like myself.

But, if Im doing swordplay for half the day, doesnt that mean that they dont see me as a fragile lady! But its not
my fault my father taught me how to use a sword! That doesnt mean Im not delicate and graceful like a real noble!
No, Dorian cant see me as someone like Lithaenhe sees me for the gentle creature that I am, Im sure of it.

Kaltain had begun to wring her hands so badly that by the time she came out of her thoughts, her hands were
throbbing and red. Hissing her frustration through her teeth, Kaltain flipped over onto her other side. She could
practically hear Lithaen laughing at her.

The longer Lithaen Gordaina remained alive, the more damage she did to Kaltains chances of being Queen. To
attempt hiring another assassin would be too riskyespecially so soon after Anuksuns death. And besides, after
killing another human being, did she really have the stomach to do it again? It had scared her enough the first time.

When Lithaen Gordaina had walked into Tulrouses room the next morning, Kaltains world had almost cracked. At
first she had thought it was a spirit sent from the dead to kill her, but when Lithaen took her usual seat (as far away
from Kaltain as possible), Kaltain knew that something had odd had happened. The thought that Lithaen had killed
Graev occurred to her once or twice, but when Princess Anuksun had failed to arrive, Kaltain knew that something had
gone terribly, terribly wrong. Since then, her nerves had been on edgeand she would have lost it once or twice if it
were not for the crown that was always hovering in the back of her mind.

But what else could she do to tear Lithaen away from Dorians side?

Something creaked in her room and Kaltain sat up straight. Was someone in her chambers? What if it was The
Huntress? Her heart began to pound. The matchbox was too far away. Panic filled her veins and Kaltain felt her breath
come faster. She didnt want to die.

Her hands clenched the blankets in her lap as she scanned the room. Nothingonly darkness and shadows. What if
the killer was already in her room? What if the killer was just lurking on the other side of her bed

In a series of frantic movements that resembled a seizure of sorts, Kaltain buried herself beneath her blankets, and
jammed her head beneath two pillows.

Please, dont let me die! Gods, I beseech you! Save me!

Silence.

She didnt know how long she stayed awake beneath her pillows, shaking in anticipated terror and death, but at some
point her nerves gave out and Kaltain Rompier slipped into an uneasy sleep.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona

As they walked through the halls of the palace, Chaol Wydrael took a glance at his companion and frowned deeply.
Something was wrong. For the past five days, the Crown Prince had been lost in thought and terribly aloof. Dorian
barely ate, he barely spoke, and from the looks of it, he barely slept.

It was nearing lunchtime, but his friend showed no signs of heading towards the dining hall. In fact, they didnt seem
to be headed in any direction.

Chaol had been patienthe had been waiting for Dorian to tell him what was wrong, but the Crown Prince either had
no intention of speaking of his problems or he didnt even notice Chaols company.

Chaol didnt even know where to begin guessing at the causes for his friends slump. With each reason that seemed to
rise into his head, common sense knocked them back down. At first he had suspected that the Crown Prince had
gotten into another argument with his father, but after Chaol realized that the King was acting as he always did
towards his son, the Captain of the Guard had crossed that possibility off the list.

He then considered the possibility that Dorian had been rejected by a loveror, by some warped twist in fate, he
couldnt find one. Normally, it only took the Crown Prince a couple of hours to get over something as petty as that
not five whole days.

Your highness! someone called out from behind them. Chaol hid the scowl that rose to his face. It was Kaltain. As
Chaol slowed to a halt, he stuck out his arm across Dorians path, preventing further movement from the prince who,
by the way he bumped into his outstretched arm, obviously hadnt heard (or cared). It was better to get their daily
meeting with Kaltain over with.

Dorians face remained as blank as both boys turned towards the extravagantly dressed woman who had caught up to
them. Her pearly smile made Chaols skin crawl.

Good day to you, your highness, she batted her eyes at the Crown Prince before turning to the Captain of the
Guard, Lord Chaol. Kaltain then nodded and curtsied to them both. Obliged by protocol, Chaol bowed to her. Not
surprisingly, Dorian didnt do the same. However, his sapphire eyes were resting dully on Kaltains face.

Chaol blinked and restrained himself from rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Dorian never looked at Kaltain. When forced to
communicate with her, the Crown Princes eyes often rested on a spot far, far away from her face. But now

Gods above! Whats wrong with you? Come on, Dorian, snap out of it!

May I ask why the two of you were lurking around this part of the castle? she said with such implied sweetness and
modesty that Chaol wanted to scream. Unfortunately, Kaltain continued. Surely you two werent trying to bump into
mesince this is the time of day that I normally go from Madam Tulrouses lecture to dine with my Lord Perringtonn.
Youre too kind, honestly! Why, if I had suspected that you two were coming, Id have blah blah blah blah blah

She kept on talking, twisting her words and the situation at hand to fulfill her own sick fantasies. Zoning her out,
Chaol shifted his eyes to Dorians face. Were it not for the clouded expression in the princes eyes, he would have
thought that Dorian was paying attention to the yapping woman.

Blah blah too kind! How is blah blah blah blah? Oh, you blah blah blah!

On and on she chatted with herself, answering her own questions as if there was more than one person participating
in the conversation. Its almost a form of schizophrenia. He would have laughed aloud at this thought, but Dorians
emotionless demeanor dragged down any sense of humor that arose within Chaol.

Kaltain mistook Dorians dead daze for one of interest and her talk began to head towards bolder ground.

and Im surprised that you arent waiting for the Lady Lithaen! Her flirtatious giggle echoed in the hallway. Why, if
I didnt know better, Id say you liked that classless, brutish wench! Why, did you see what she was wearing today?
She looked hideous! Someone should honestly just cart her up and ship her off to the mines of Endovier!

Chaol sensed his friends change in mood seconds before the storm hit.

What? Dorian snapped, his eyes suddenly lighting up in anger. He had come out of his dazehe was being
responsivejust not in a positive way.

Kaltain stopped laughing. Chaol looked at the womans shocked expression and realized that it probably mirrored his
own. Where did that come from?

A cold fury had filled the Crown Princes face. Kaltain turned slightly pale.

I was just Kaltain started, trying to regain her position.

Go dine with Perringtonn, Kaltain, Dorian snarled at her.

The Crown Prince had always been tolerable of Kaltain (to her face at least), but somehow the woman had crossed the
line.

You better take his advice, Kaltainget out of here before he throws you out himself.

But before the young woman could comprehend the dismissal that she had just received, the Crown Prince turned on
his heel and headed away from them, his walk filled with far more purpose than it had possessed minutes earlier.
With a shrug to Kaltain, Chaol followed after his prince, feeling slightly bad for the wretched woman who was probably
on the verge of tears.

They didnt get far when they ran into another person who Chaol wasnt quite intent on seeing for a few more days at
least.

Celaena Sardothien. She didnt slow her pace, and she barely even acknowledged them as she passed, her eyes
shifting to give them an icy glance.

Chaol halted his step, shocked by this transformation. He turned his head towards Dorian and saw that the Prince had
stopped completely, but had yet to turn around to watch the assassin stroll away. Dorian seemed to be frozen in
place, staring straight ahead with a pent-up energy that cried out to be released. Chaol waited for Dorian to turn
around to look at the young womanbut the prince didnt. It wasnt until Celaena rounded a corner and disappeared
from view that the shoulders of the Crown Prince relaxed. There was a moment then, a moment during which Chaol
was sure that Dorian would turn and run after Celaena, but he didnt.

With a deep breath, Dorian regained his countenance and continued forward, his step back to the melancholy pace
that it had recently developed.

She did something to you, didnt she? Is this whats bothering you? Celaena Sardothien is the cause of this miserable
state that youve fallen into?

Chaol grabbed onto Dorians arm, unable to control himself.

Dorian, I demand that you tell me what this wretched mood is about. Youve been like this for five days, five days!
Youre the Crown Prince of Adarlan, you cant afford to act so ridiculously. I insist that you tell me whats wrong.

Dorian shrugged off Chaols arm and smiled viciously, his eyes gleaming wildly. Nothing is wrong. Everything is as it
should be, I can assure you.

Chaol felt his temper rising. But you

If youll excuse me, I have to go meet with King Adebambou about his late daughter. Before Chaol could reply,
Dorian turned and walked in the direction that Celaena had gone, his footsteps echoing sharply in the hallway.

Chaol stared after him until he vanished out of sight and sighed in frustration. If Dorian wouldnt tell him what was
wrong, he knew someone that wouldor could at least be ordered to.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien stood in front of the pair of fogged glass doors and tried not to be nervous. It was seven oclock
and she was supposed to be meeting with Anuksuns parents, but their prior meeting had seemed to run overtime and
now all that the assassin could do was wait. What would they ask? Did they suspect that she had killed the princess?
Should she tell them about her nightly adventures in Renaril? Did they already know that Lithaen Gordaina was really
Celaena Sardothien?

Celaena began to pace. Without warning, the doors opened and Celaenas stomach leapt into her throat. Dorian
DeHavilliard walked out of the chamber and stopped abruptly when he saw her, his surprise getting the better of him.

Idiot. Get out of my way.

May I go in now? she asked coldly, looking past him and into the room beyond.
Yes, but he began slowly, his tongue slowed by whatever he was feeling. Move, damn you.

But what? she interrupted sharply, pushing past him. If you have something to say, out with it. I dont want to
keep their majesties waiting. Celaena looked around suddenly. Wheres Chaol?

Dorians eyes flared. Hes not my governess, you know. Im fully capable of walking around my palace without guards
around me all the time.

Celaena smirked wickedly. After all of this, I thought youd have more sense, your highness. Who knows what might
be lurking around every corner? Shall I call a guard for you?

For a moment, something like doubt and fear crossed the princes face. It was just a brief expressionmost people
wouldnt have caught it, but she did. And for some reason, it hurt.

If youre thinking what I think you are, she hissed, go to hell. How dare you think that? How dare you even think
that for a moment? You bastard, why would I possibly ever think of doing that?

Come in, please, called a voice from inside the room before Dorian could defend himself. Celaena glared at the
Crown Prince one final time and strode inside, shutting the doors firmly behind her. Her nervousness had turned into
blinding rage. How could he even think, even for a second, that she had killed Anuksun? Why would he even think
that she would kill him?

Celaena came out of her thoughts and stared at the two people in front of her. When her eyes fell upon the woman,
her throat tightened up and her began to pound and ache. It was the mirror image of Anuksunher mother.
Anuksuns father had the same proud jaw, an air of strength, and wise eyes, but the woman beside him had the
delicate features and flowing grace of her late friend. Celaena couldnt think of anything to say. Images of Anuksuns
exotic beauty and the state in which her body had been found kept on flashing through her head.

The world began to spin uncontrollably. Mutilated corpses and proud, ebony eyes glowed and burned across her
vision. Celaena tried to swallow, but her throat felt dry and thick.

Please, sit down... That accent

I Celaena began, but her memories overtook her and all that she could see was Anuksuns lifeless, ravaged body
lying on the table. All that she could hear were her sobs from when she had collapsed outside of that wretched room

Celaena put her hands on either side of her head in an attempt to squeeze the thoughts out and clamped her eyes
shut, gasping for breath. The smell of death filled her nostrils. She could hear Graev begging for his life, she could
hear all of those men begging for their lives.

The sound of a chair moving and footsteps faintly sounded in the back of her mind. Celaena felt as if she were going
to be sick. Strong, calloused hands helped her to sit down, taking the weight off of her shaking knees. Her hands were
gently removed from the sides of her head and in between them was placed a cool, smooth goblet.

Drink this, it will help. The voice was deep and rich and it seemed to have a calming effect on her nerves. Celaena
lifted the glass to her mouth and drank from it greedily. It was waterit eased her throat and brought her spinning
world back to a sudden halt. She took another sip from the goblet and opened her eyes. The former king of
Eyputiusunn was kneeling in front of her, his dark eyes filled with concern. Celaena raised her stare and found that his
wife was standing not too far away, the same worried expression mirrored on her grief-stricken face.

The king put a hand on her knee and stared into her blue eyes. We have heard many tales in a few days, but we
have most wanted to hear your tale, Celaena Sardothien.

Her stomach tied itself in a knot. The king smiled sadly. The Crown Prince told us of your real name and real self
despite his fathers wishes. I somehow know that Anuksun also knew of your real name. I see it in your eyesyou
told Anuksun and my daughter did not fear you. In Eyputiusunn we believe that a soul can have many namesand
Celaena Sardothien is only one of yours. When we asked the Crown Prince, he did not know, so we ask you now to tell
us what name our daughter gave to you. Celaenas eyes widened in surprise. The king chuckled, and continued on,
his accent thick, but his grammar surprisingly perfect. In Eyputiusunn, we also believe that the eyes are a window to
the soulthat is how I know. You have the eyes of a woman who has seen all aspects of lifeand you bear the mark
of one who has been named by our people. We are soul-readersold magic from another world. I can tell much about
you just from your eyes, Celaena Sardothien, and it would do my soul good to hear the last name that my daughter
ever gave to a living person. It would tell me that my magic is not wrong in assuming that you had nothing to do with
the death of Anuksun.

Celaena swallowed several times to moisten her throat, but her words were still cracked and hoarse when they came
out. Elentulyai, she said, she named me Elentulyai.

The kings eyes filled with sorrow, but he smiled despite it. Yes, he said slowly, yes, that is a proper name for you.
He rose and took his seat behind the desk at which he had been sitting before, his wife following suit. He took his
wifes hand and squeezed it hard. Celaena found it difficult to look at themand it took all of her might to keep the
images and sounds of that horrible week at bay.

Now please, he said after a moment of silence, tell us everything.

Draining the rest of the goblet that was in her hands, Celaena looked at the parents of her beloved friend with moist
eyes and began her tale.

CHAPTER 27

Roland DeHavilliard sat up in bed and looked down at the woman sleeping beside him. In the dim light, her naked
body was reduced to a mound of soft flesh and curves. But, even if they had been in the harsh brightness of daylight,
that was all that she was to Roland. She wasnt pretty, she wasnt even interestingshe had been a sure thing, which,
in his failure to seduce Lithaen Gordaina, was something that Roland DeHavilliard was in desperate need of.

Since the murder of Anuksun Ytger, he had hardly seen the mysterious woman. When he had seen her, she had
looked so distant and cold that he had found himself unable to approach her. There were some boundaries that
couldnt be breachedeven by him.

And apparently, even by his cousin, Dorian. The Crown Prince hadnt been seen with the woman for three weeks now,
and for the past two weeks he had been moping so sullenly and had lashed out so furiously when questioned that
nearly all of the court was staying away from him. Only Lord Chaol, being the pathetic dog he normally was, kept at
the princes side, desperately trying to find a way to get the Crown Prince out of his terrible mood.

Even the King was starting to take an interest in his sons sulkiness. Roland didnt know where Dorians slump had
come from, but he could clearly tell that it was not due to one of the court ladies or his cousins father. The death of
Anuksun Ytger couldnt have affected him that muchtrue, Dorian and the princess could, on occasion, be found
together, but they had never been on intimate terms. He never spent the night in her room.

There was only one person who he knew could have had such a direct emotional effect on the Crown Princeand that
was probably the most troubling thought for Roland DeHavilliard. What kind of a woman could wield such power over
a man? Especially hold such sway the Crown Prince of Adarlan? Lithaen Gordaina had either knowingly hurt him or she
had caused this out of her naivet.

Either way, she was bound to snap out of her emotional daze at any time now, and with the Crown Prince
conveniently out of the way, Roland would be waiting

The woman next to him made a soft noise and opened her eyes to look up at him. They were dull and full of stupidity.
Was this the best he could do? This lesser noble was little more than a serving wench. No, he had bedded serving
wenchesthey were far more satisfying than this woman had been.

Slightly disgusted, Roland managed a weak smile before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to pull
on his clothes. The woman began to object, manipulating her simpering voice to try to woo him back to bed. Roland
glared over his shoulder at her, becoming more and more dissatisfied with the way he had spent the last several
hours. Had he been drinking when he had agreed to let her into his chambers? No, his head didnt feel fuzzy or thick
at the moment.

He put his boots on and got up to find his shirt. The woman stretched herself out over the bed, his bed, in an attempt
to draw him back to her. This only repulsed him more. Shimmying into his billowing white blouse, Roland tugged on
his jerkin and looked back at the woman. He couldnt even remember her name.
I want you to be out of here by the time I get back, understood? I dont want my servants or my mother seeing you
in here. Try to get out as quietly as possible and dont go bragging to your court ladies about this. He hadnt meant
to sound so irritated and cold, but he just couldnt keep his temper back. She had been a waste of his time. Good
night, lady

Lingrayne. My name is Lady Lingrayne, she said meekly, her face flushing in shame as she gathered the blankets of
the bed up to her chest. But her sudden showing of modesty had no effect on him.

He nodded his head curtly. Good night, Lady Lingrayne, he purred and picked up his sword belt as he left the room.
He closed his bedchamber doors behind him, hearing a faint sob as he did, and turned to his manservant, Gael.

I want you to see to it that shes out of there within the hour. Take her out the servants entrance, will you? I dont
want anyone to see the kind of wench Im reduced to bedding.

Gael smiled and bowed to his master. It will be done within a quarter of an hour, my Lord.

Roland tossed his hair out of his eyes and fastened his sword belt around his slim waist. Im going for a walkif
anyone comes for me, tell them to see me in the morning. I have someone important to see now.

Gael nodded and departed through the bedchamber doors that Roland had just exited. With a grim smile, Roland left
his rooms and strode down the empty hallway, his boots echoing in the silent halls. It was just past midnight, but he
knew that the one he sought wouldnt be asleep.

No, the Crown Prince of Adarlan rarely slept these days.

Roland strode through the hallways and up staircases, the stone foundations of the castle quickly fading to those of
glass, proof of Adarlans magnificence and skill. Roland nodded to the guards posted outside of the entrance to the
Crown Princes staircase as he began to the long climb upwards.

The princes rooms, despite its shimmering, incredible surroundings, lay at the top of the tallest stone towera relic of
the original castle of Adarlan. Although he could have had far grander chambers, the Crown Prince had chosen to take
his rooms within the ancient, cold stone walls. Personally, Roland would have chosen one of the rooms made from
glassthey were so much more interesting than stone (and only reserved for the highest of nobility and guests
mainly the King, Queen, and other foreign rulers), but since he wasnt offered a choice when he had come to the
palace those months ago, he was stuck with the stone rooms of the old castle.

He climbed the winding stone staircase that led to Dorians rooms, growing faintly dizzy with the circular motion in
which he was ascending. He found the sound of his footsteps echoing around him to be slightly alarmingit enhanced
the atmosphere in the dimly lit area. Roland had been to his cousins room several times, yet he still found that his
chambers were slightly eerie. If in the right mood, they could be seen as seductive, but while trapped in the slender
winding corridor, seeing no beginning or end, Roland found his pace slightly quickening.

He moved quickly to reach the end of the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. He was almost out of breath by
the time he reached the top, and paused to collect himself before entering through the large oak doors that opened
into the Crown Princes chambers. Roland had no doubt in his mind that going up these stairs every day was certainly
a factor in Dorian DeHavilliards wonderful physical condition.

He knocked once before entering, knowing that the Crown Princes servants had long gone to bed. Despite his
preference for glass over stone, Roland found the princes rooms to be quite pleasing to the eye and comfortable.
They were five rooms in total: a bedchamber, sitting room, study, bathing chamber, and a recreational room in which
the Crown Prince kept all of his toys and games. The Crown Prince spent most of his time locked within his study
surrounded by books on all sides, each wall coated in bookshelves and displays. Dorian never took women up hereit
was almost a sacred space to him, and though the Crown Prince loved the pleasures of the flesh almost as much as
Roland did, he had never been able to have a female presence soil the atmosphere.

Roland strode into the study, nodding at the servant who had appeared in his nightclothes to see who the intruder
was. The Crown Prince was seated at his massive redwood deskhis head in his hands as he stared down blankly at
the desk. Beside him were several empty glasses of wine and a barely-touched plate of food. Clearing his throat,
Roland approached the desk.
The Crown Prince slightly raised his head from his hands, his eyes turning in Rolands direction. What is it? he asked
in a monotone voice.

Roland leaned against the desk, staring down at the Crown Princes haggard face. I just wanted to see how you
were, he said, his voice like oil. You havent been yourself lately.

Im fine, Dorian swiftly snapped in response. He was silent for a second before he released a deep breath, his
shoulders drooping and his hands slipping from his face to beneath his chin (which he then rested his head upon).
But apparently, Dorian continued, his voice sagging with weariness, my father doesnt think so. He sent a handful
of physicians up here about three hours ago, each frantically trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I had quite
a time convincing them to leave me be. He let out a bitter laugh.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Rolands lips. This was the opportunity to delve in the direction that he had wanted to
go. So, the young lord began, it is not a physical ailment? I see Roland edged closer. Then perhapsits an
emotional one?

The Crown Princes eyes darted to his cousin, and then back down to the wooden desk, saying nothing in response.
Roland hid the triumphant sneer that rose to his face and continued onward. And, what, pray tell, might be the
source of that illness of the psyche? An argument between kin? An untimely death? Or, Roland paused, letting his
question fall like water released from a dam, a lovers quarrel?

Dorians head jerked upwards and he looked and Roland in the face with such accusation and anger that Roland knew
in an instant that his last question had hit home. I see, Roland purred. The Lady Lithaen is also

There is nothing between the Lady Lithaen and I, Dorian snarled. A feral look came over the Crown Princes face and
Roland, had he not known that it was he who was the one in power here, would have run from the room. But,
knowing that he had his prey where he wanted, asked the question that would either make his efforts here fruitful or
wasted. Nothing? Then Lithaen means nothing to you? he asked slyly.

She is nothing to me, he snapped. Nothing at all.

A smile of satisfaction spread across Rolands face. So if she were to be with another man you

Wouldnt care in the least, Dorian finished dismissively. His current mental condition was making his words
impetuous.

Roland slid off of the table and patted the Crown Prince on the shoulder. He made a few comments about the
condition of the social world below before he squeezed Dorians shoulder and took his leave. Roland smiled all the way
down the winding staircase, humming to himself as he headed towards the prize that lay waiting for him to claim.

It wasnt until Roland was long gone that Dorian, the Crown Prince of Adarlan, realized with terror that he had just
handed over Celaena Sardothien to another man.

Celaena Sardothien sat in her sitting room, idly reading a book. At her feet slept Fleetfoot, her long-legged hunting
hound, curled into an oblong shape. Celaena looked at the clock that stood against the wall. It was well past midnight,
but it didnt mattershe hadnt been sleeping much lately.

Even in her waking hours she was haunted by ill thoughts and imageswhispers of a disturbance that had started
long before Anuksuns murder. Celaenas thoughts were a jumbled mix of the past, future, and present; and
sometimes she became so confused between the three of them that she lost all sense of being and could barely
remember who or where she was. These flashes of displacement only lasted for a few seconds, but it was enough for
her to keep her distance from everyone. There were other reasons for her cold composure, but even she, the keeper
of her own soul, could not fully comprehend them.

To keep her mind from dwelling on her present state for too long, Celaena Sardothien surrounded herself with books
more books than she normally read. She would lose herself within their pages, forgetting her troubles and forsaking
reality. It didnt matter what the book was aboutas long as it distracted her, it was perfect.

There was a knock on the doorsharp and almost arrogant in its swift rhythm, and Celaena looked up from her book.
It was unusual for her servants to bother her at this hour. It must be a guest
A frown rose to her face as the door opened. She couldnt have been more surprised to see Roland DeHavilliard. He
smiled sweetly at her, running a hand through his blond hair, and he took a seat at the table at which she was sitting.
She suppressed a growl of dislike, but was pleased that it wasnt someone with whom many complications arose.
Fleetfoot lifted her head once, and seeing that it was just another human and nothing to chase after or eat, fell back
asleep.

Its a bit late for visiting, she said flatly, hoping that he would only be here for a quick word.

He grinned, his handsome features lightening. You never had a problem with the Crown Prince visiting. He winked
roguishly. Celaena felt a groan of impatience coming up. If he had come to talk to her about Dorian DeHavilliard, he

Celaena felt a shock pass through her as she saw images flash before her eyes. Blood-covered hands, screaming,
pleadingDorian DeHavilliards terror and disgust at seeing her

It was over in a second, but still her heartbeat quickened. Even Roland DeHavilliards presence brought up bad
memories. She looked at the youths face, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. He hadnt noticed.

You kept your door unlocked, he purred, you must have been waiting for someone to visit

I never lock my door, she said bluntly and looked back down at her book.

Ah, he said, amusement in his voice, so youre open for business around the clock?

Celaenas head snapped up so fast that her neck hurt. If this was why he was here

Anuksuns body, broken and violatedher thighs bruised and bloodied

The images hit her with such force that she was left breathless. A wave of nausea overcame her and she felt her
strength seeping out of her. Celaena stared at the table, trying to regain herself before Roland could notice. All that it
would take to get him away were a few words

Anuksun fighting, strugglinghelpless in the snow

Celaena felt herself beginning to slip. She heard the sound of a chair sliding back and felt Roland come over to her
side of the table. Dont worry, he crooned into her ear, so am I. His hand slid over one of hers, his fingers gently
stroking her soft skin.

Anuksun naked, her eyes cut outher bones snapped in the opposite directionthe smell of death

The smell of death transformed into the scent of Rolands body as the young lord leaned in to kiss her lightly on the
cheek and then her bare neck.

Deathshe had visited its House before. She was a frequent visitorshe had always been. It was a wicked and dark
house, its fence made from human bones, its walls made from flesh and sinew, its rooms heated by the vaporized
screams and blood of the deceased

Celaena closed her eyes, trying to shut out the images that had taken control of her body.

Two bodies lying beside each other. A servant dead on the floor, a dirty finger outstretched towards the open door,
pointing at the danger

Time lost its hold on her and Celaena stood on a plane of three eras, utterly lost.

Running, screaming through the woods

Anuksun silently dying in the garden

Rolands free hand roamed down her arm, caressing her skin.
Dorian dead, dismembered and destroyed like Anuksunhis beautiful face melting into the front of the House of
Death. Bloody snow

Hoof beats pounding the dark earthAnuksuns rotting fleshChaol and Dorian gonecorruption seeping through the
land

Fallingfalling

Celaenas eyes flew open and she trembled, her mind spiraling downward, triggered by Rolands words and actions.
He took no heed, taking her expressions to be those of pleasure and intimacy, and continued his physical seduction.
His hands stroking and petting her, his lips kissing her face

Ice, liquid iceso cold that breathing wasnt an optionicy blood, seeping in through her mouth, filling her lungs,
stopping her supply of air as she went underthe House of Death laughing mercilessly. Drowningdrowning in blood

With a bang, the door burst open and Dorian DeHavilliard flew in, his eyes blazing like two newly born stars. He took
one look at Celaena, her eyes wide with horror and her mind utterly lost to the outside world, and leapt upon Roland
before his cousin could comprehend what had just happened.

Dorian slammed the young lord into the wall behind Celaena, his hands clenching Rolands shoulders so hard that he
could feel the bone beneath cracking.

Fleetfoot, sensing something was terribly wrong, stood up and growled, positioning herself between the two men and
her mistress, her shackles raised and her teeth barred.

I told you, Dorian snarled, his words edged with such anger and wrath that Roland was temporarily seized with fear,
never to come near her. He slammed Roland into the wall again, his face as terrible as the dawn. Roland smiled.
Dorian, his rage taking a hold on him, slammed his fist into Rolands face, crunching bone beneath it, hitting him so
hard that Roland staggered sideways and fell onto the ground, clutching his broken nose as blood poured forth. Dorian
looked at his bloodied fist and then down at Roland.

If you touch her again, he growled, Ill kill you.

He stared at Roland for a moment more, knowing that this encounter would easily have direct effect upon both the
DeHavilliard family and the fate of his country. There was now turmoil where tolerance had once barely existed, yet
Dorian did not balk from the consequences of his actions. He had known what they would be and had accepted them
the moment he had left his room minutes before, flying down the stairs to save his beloved assassin. He now turned
to her and Fleetfoot, seeing that he meant no harm, put her tail between her legs and placed her head on Celaenas
lap, hoping for some response from her mistress.

But Celaena was still lost inside her memories, still struggling against the images that choked her psyche. Dorian, not
understanding what was happening to the woman, approached her like an unarmed man sneaking upon a sleeping
lion.

Lithaen he whispered, eyeing Roland. Lithaen he hissed louder. He expected her to be in some sort of shock
which was naturalbut nothing prepared him for the look that he saw on her face. Her body was trembling all over
and her eyes were wide with unseen horror. Her mind wasnt in the room. Using a false name would not call her back.

Dorian looked back at Roland. His cousin was struggling to get up, busy with his own state of affairs. Celaena, he
whispered urgently, a bit of panic rising up within his stomach. What was wrong with her? Celaena, snap out of it!
he hissed again. But she continued to shake and stare at the table.

He put a hand on one of her own and squeezed it tightly. Maybe I should call a doctor

Celaena, please! he urged her quietly, his hand tightening.

A flicker of recognition spread across her eyes and she blinked. But then she was set adrift again in the terrors of her
dream world and she was lost. Encouraged by this, Dorian pulled her chair from the table to face him and he knelt in
front of her, taking both of her hands in his. He held them tightly and repeated her name again.

Roland was making his way towards the door, clutching his bleeding nose.
Celaena! Dorian whispered loudly, confident that this was working. Roland stopped in his tracks, and turned back to
them slowly.

Dorian watched as her lips moved, her vision still gone. No sound came from her throat at first, but she soon found
her voice, and though she stumbled over the words and sounded like it was coming from far away, Dorian understood
her.

Dorian? she mumbled.

He squeezed her hands tighter. Yes, Im here, he said gently.

She shook her head, her eyes glazing over. No, she said. No, youre dead. I saw you. Youre dead

A shudder went through him. What could she possibly be witnessing in that mind of hers that would make her say
that? Dorian looked at her disheveled clothing and suddenly understood. Even he often looked back at the image of
Anuksun Ytgers ravaged body. It often took over his thoughtsall that he could see or think about was the destroyed
and violated body of the princess. Killing those men had not been a form of therapy for Celaena Sardothien. It had
heightened the sorrow and fright that she felt at the death of her friend. What she was probably seeing now were
horrific images of Anuksun, her bloody past, and perhaps her bloody future. Another thought swept through him, but
he brushed it away, knowing the unlikelihood of it.

No, he said, squeezing her hands, Im here. Im alive.

Alive? She sounded so lostso alone. How he longed to take her in his arms and hold her! But, fearing that her
reaction to physical contact might trigger another response similar to the one she had had to Roland, Dorian
controlled his impulse.

Yes, Im alive. Youre alive. He had no idea what he was sayinghe had no idea what to do. Please, he said, his
voice quavering at the sudden hopelessness of the situation, please come back.

Where? Not to the Housenot there! Her breath quickened and her chest began to heave. Please! Not back there!
her voice was almost in a scream. She was gasping for air, and Dorian saw her retch. In his sudden alarm at her
helplessness, he moved forward, taking her by the shoulders, and shoved her back into her chair. He grabbed her face
with one hand, forcing it to stare upwards into his. She didnt seem to notice ither eyes were unchanged.

Youre not going back in there, he snarled, one hand keeping her pinned to the back of the chair, because youre
coming here.

No, her voice wavered like a dying bird. No, because you live thereyou went into the House and youre not
coming back. Youre dead, youre

I am not dead, he growled. Im alive. Youre alive. Leave that place, Celaena, leave it now. Come back to me.

Celaena? she asked, her eyes clearing for a second.

Yes. Celaena. Thats your name.

My name

Celaena Sardothien.

ImCelaena Sardothien.

Yes, he urged her, trying to keep his excitement and relief out of his voice.

And youre DorianPrince Dorian.

Yes
And Chaol?

Shit. Dorian knew that the words not here, and gone, wouldnt be good, so he lied and said, Chaols right here
beside us. Cant you see him? Her question had stabbed something deep within him, wounding him more than he
liked to admit.

I cant see anything, she sighed. Its all getting dark. The woodsand the horsemanand the servantand the
garden her voice began to get louder as her breath began to quicken again.

No, he said. Theyre not here. Its only meand Chaol. Were both here. Please, Celaena. Please, come back.

Back where?

Back home to Adarlan.

She stopped trembling. Terror left her eyes, and in its place, angerrage filled them. She stared right at him, her
eyes glowing in hate, and said the three words that would haunt his thoughts for weeks afterwards.

Adarlan killed me.

And then, before anything else could be said or done, her anger faded, her face cleared, and her eyes came into
focus. She blinked several times, and he took his hands away from hers so that she could touch her face. She had a
look of disbelief on her face. Celaena lowered her eyes, to the face of the Crown Price, suddenly understanding.

There was a moment thena moment where it was only the two of them in the world; a moment where she looked at
him with eyes that told him everything he wanted and needed to know; a moment when, had she asked, he would
have given up everything for her. But, as all moments do, it passed, and her eyes became hard and cold once more.

Before any words could be said between them, there came a low chuckle that increased to a loud cackle of triumph.
Both the prince and the assassin turned to the source of the laughter and saw, in shock and dismay, Roland
DeHavilliard, his nose broken and bleeding. He had seen and heard everything.

Roland stopped his laughter and stared at them unflinchingly, his eyes gleaming with malice. Youre both fools, he
hissed, wiping his bloody face on his sleeve. Fools for everything, but especially for finding each other in this
miserable world. He glared at them with open hate.

Neither Dorian nor Celaena said a word, each awaiting the judgment and sentence that Roland would bestow upon
them. Roland laughed bitterly as he headed towards the open door. He stopped in the entranceway and turned
towards them. Dont worry, he said with a snide look upon his face, your secrets safe with me, Celaena
Sardothien. Though I had heard the rumors that you were a woman, I never believed them to be true. You certainly
are quite a piece of a work, arent you? Its no wonder that Dorian is drawn to youwhy, not only are you remarkably
different from the ladies of this court, but youre something that his father hates and therefore are something to be
coveted and worshipped! He certainly doesnt have the nerve to go against his father, but youwhy, Dorian can live
vicariously through you! He laughed again, and looked down at his bloodied hands and shirt. He smiled wickedly.
But, dont worry, my two fine companions. I wont tell anyone. I wouldnt want to upset the ladies. And with that,
Roland DeHavilliard strode from the room, his laughter following behind him.

Celaena looked at Dorian, who was still kneeling at her feet. A whimper sounded behind her, and a ghost of a smile
appeared on her face and she reached out to reassuringly pet Fleetfoots head. She ran her fingers through the faun-
colored fur, seeking strength and support.

Dorian got to his feet, brushing off his clothes. Her eyes met his. He didnt say anything. She could feel his misery,
feel the questions that he was dying to ask, but she kept him pinned beneath her cold gaze, not giving him any room
to do so. He turned from her after a minute, and stopped a few feet away, looking back at her over his shoulder. I
think you should know that in a few days my father and his council will be making their decision, he said dully. But,
before they do, youll have to prove yourself to them in the form of a duel with the other two contending girls. You will
fight them with your weapon of choicethe one to win two out of three matches will be the victor. While this may not
be the deciding factor of their choice, it will play a heavy part in it. They will be looking for skill, resourcefulness, and
strength. He stared at her one final time. Good luck, Celaena Sardothien. May the Mother guide you.
Celaena watched him as he left, leaving her alone in her room again. He hadnt said a word about what had
happened. He hadnt asked her if she would be all right, but Celaena suspected that if he had thought she was, no
cold look or attitude of hers could have made him leave her side. She didnt know what had happened between Roland
and Dorian, but from the young mans broken and bloody nose, Celaena could tell that, once again, Dorian had put his
own neck on the line to help her.

He saved her from the death that had awaited her in the mines, and now he had saved her from the endless terror of
the cage of her mind. Celaenas fingers touched the newly-bruising spots on her cheek where his hand had gripped to
pull her back to reality. Celaena closed her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could still smell his scent lingering in
the air

CHAPTER 28

The King of Adarlan stared at his son mercilessly. Hot rage and fear coursed through his veins and his lips quivered
with restraint. His son had assaulted a member of his household in order to defend Celaena Sardothien. Duke
Perringtonns worries had been correctthe assassin had his son wrapped around her bloody finger. Extreme
measures had to be taken.

You drew blood in your own house, the King of Adarlan said, his voice like volcanic murmurings.

Dorian DeHavilliards stared at his fathers feet. He was in the midst of forcing himself upon her, he said softly, but
strongly.

Too bad he didnt get through with it, the King snapped, his temper getting the better of him. It would have served
the bitch right.

Dorians sapphire eyes flashed and a snarl appeared on his sons lips as the temper that he had inherited from his
father rose to the surface. The King of Adarlan felt his anger rising in response. His son never looked at him like that.
His son wouldnt dare to look at him like that. Assassin or not, Dorian growled, she is still a woman.

His sons face glowed with unbridled fury. He had seen that face oncelong ago in another empire. It had been for
similar reasons that the King of Adarlan had come to see that expressionthe male had been defending what he
honored and loved, and was willing to defy anyone and everything in order to preserve it. A sick feeling settled over
the King of Adarlan. The only way he had been able to quench that defiance had been to execute that manand his
family.

Shes a criminal, and youre a fool for seeing her otherwise, he said, his hands aching to find someplace to lodge
themselves on his sons face or body.

A lazy, arrogant smile spread across Dorians face and a sleepy look came into his eyes. The King of Adarlan had
never seen his son on the killing-edge, but now he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of the Prince of
Adarlans fury.

It only took a split second for the king to feel his rage slipping into panic; and as his sons blue eyes stared at his face,
he struggled to maintain the anger and control that had been so apparent moments before. When had he taught his
son to do this? When was his son able to command his fear? When had his son turned from a concern into a threat?

You know, Dorian said quietly, too quietly, everyones been telling me that lately. He looked down at his nails and
then up at his father again, his face so dangerously close to open-rage and violence. But, his son said, his bored
expression taking hold once more, Im beginning to think that you are the fools.

Killing-edge or not, this was still his son and he would not be spoken to in such a manner. The king felt his temper
returning. She has her claws deeply attached in your mind, boy, the king said with venom, standing up from the
glass throne on which he had been seated. Do you remember what she did to Lord Frivall? What about Lord Joden?
No woman who does that deserves to be called human. No creature that does that deserves to be treated with
kindness and respect.

She did it to survive, his son snarled at him.

Laughter of disbelief burst from the kings throat. Survive? His eyes grew wide in rage and shame at his weak-
minded fool of a son. Shes a killer, boy. She could have done anything other than killing, but she chose it. She has
you wrapped around her finger, doesnt she? Yes, yesshes smart enough to know what a weak-willed bastard Ive
raised. Shes smart enough to know that you are foolish enough to fall for a pretty face.

A deep-throated growl came from Dorians throat. I am not wrapped around her finger.

A wicked smile spread itself across the kings face as his eyes filled with an eerie light. Then I suppose you would
have no qualms about me signing her execution sentence?

Without warning, the windows of the room exploded, glass and wood shattering and flying in all directions as wind
burst through the room, howling in rage.

The king, in shock and terror, fell back onto his throne, covering his head with his arms to protect himself. What in
the name of Hells Gates was this? He could hear glass shattering and breaking, flying all around him. The end was
coming

The doors flew open as guards poured in, armed and ready for battle. It was then that the wind disappeared as
quickly as it came and a silence settled over the room as the guards halted, lowering their swords. The king raised his
head from his protective self-embrace and looked around, dumbstruck, his rage forgotten.

The floor-to-ceiling windows that lined half of the chamber had been entirely blown out. Deadly debris now littered the
entire floor and the two remaining walls, glass and wood spikes protruding dangerously from their glass surface.
Furniture lay toppled and torn by glass shards.

Standing up with shaking knees, the King of Adarlan motioned for his guards to get someone to clean up the mess.
One of the dangers of building his glass palace so high into the air were the strong winds that whipped at it from time
to time. The king had never believed that anything could ever break the glass of Adarlan, but these winds had now
proved him wrong.

His heart was pounding in his chest like a drum. He could have been torn to shreds. What a disgraceful end that would
have been to the greatest monarch of all-time--destroyed by unruly winds. How shameful. To think he had been
scared by something like this! Calming his nerves, the king placed a heavy hand down upon his breast, but quickly
withdrew. Protruding from his thick jacket was an oblong shard of glass, barely centimeters from his flesh.

Without conscious reason, the King of Adarlan looked at his Heir. Dorian was still standing before him, unmoved and
unmarred by any of the destruction. His face was blank, yet his eyes

The king stared at the princes cold, frozen eyes, the world seeming to hold its breath. He found himself locked within
that gaze, slowly being drowned by the cold rage that lay inside. His heirhis son

And then Dorian simply turned on his heel and left, without a farewell word or bow, the crowd of immensely confused
and relieved guards parting for him to pass.

The King of Adarlan stared down at the glass shard that still lay imbedded in his surcoat. With tensed fingers, he
removed it, carefully avoiding the sharp edges. Laying it on the palm of his hand, the king examined it with slight
curiosity. A bit more force and it would have cut through to his heart.

The King of Adarlan raised his eyes to where the Prince of Adarlan had been standing moments before.

A circle, not more than four feet in diameter, lay on the floor where his son had stood, void and clean of any debris.

Dorian DeHavilliard leaned against a stone wall of the palace, far away from the glass spires above, his hands shaking
wildly, glad to feel the security and strength that the stone offered him. What had happened?

Moments earlier, his temper had ascended to new levels, making him openly challenge his father both mentally and
physically. A reckless sense of rebellion had surged through his veins as he had stood his ground, defending both his
pride and the woman who, despite everything, he still loved. He had never risen to the killing-edge in his fathers
presence. He had never dared.

But now
What happened in there?

Dorian winced inwardly. When the King of Adarlan had mentioned executing Celaena Sardothien, something in him
snapped. Something had burst free from within him. He had wanted to lash out and kill his father; he had wanted to
kill everyone and everything for every reason that he could think of. It took less than a second for these feelings to hit
himand in that second, it had happened.

The windows had exploded, the room was torn apart, and he

Dorian closed his eyes put a hand against the cold stone wall, taking in its sturdy, ancient strength.

And he had been untouched.

His fingers sought out and grasped the crooks and holes in the stone, wishing that it could envelop him completely.

He didnt want to think about the possible source of that destructive windhe couldnt acknowledge it. Not now.

Dorians stomach clenched. He thought about it.

Magick in Adarlan had been absent too long for it to now make an appearance and be accepted. Magick was a threat
to the technology of Adarlan. Magick was from another age, another timenot now.

Dorian felt sick.

He could feel that reckless power still lurking in his blood; he could feel it waiting

He saw the shard that was sticking from his fathers breast.

He could feel it in his veins, and was disgusted at how his body embraced the pollution; he was disgusted by how it
seemed to fit so entirely into his being.

Dorian covered his mouth with one hand and clutched his stomach with the other, hoping to quell the nausea that
filled him.

A perfect circle, untouched by glass and wood.

Magick.

Gagging, Dorian rushed to the nearest toilet, where he was violently sick for the next half-hour.

Lord Chaol Wydrael stood outside of the room once more, staring at the doors with a furrowed brow. In two days,
shed face them. In two days shed either live or die.

It didnt matter to him; he was the Captain of the Guard. It didnt matter at all. She was an assassin; she was a
criminal. So what if theyd become acquainted in the past few months? He didnt

Stop fooling yourself.

Chaol sighed, his face relaxing, and leaned against the wall adjacent to the room. Itd taken all of his self-control after
hearing about it to not rip out Rolands throat. Was she all right? He had actually tried to

Shes Adarlans assassin, she can handle it.

Dorian hadnt hold him anything about what occurred with Roland, and because of it, Chaol had walked into the kings
chamber unaware of the verbal lashing that he would receive. Naturally, the king blamed Chaol for his sons bizarre
behavior. He blamed Chaol for allowing the assassin to get too close. He had called him a damned incompetent fool,
plus many other things that the Captain of the Guard did not care to remember. The king had reprimanded Chaol
many times before, but now
There was something more, something almostfearful in the kings words. There was urgency, some desperate need
to have his sons wrongdoings be corrected and put out of mind.

Chaol had heard about the wind-encounter earlier that day. Half of his men were whispering like foolish court ladies
about the possibility of something other than wind being the cause of it. Chaol didnt know or understand what could
have caused such destruction other than the wind, but he had been so busy trying to figure out the source of his
kings distress that he hadnt bothered to ask.

Chaol knew that the King of Adarlan didnt respect or love his son. He knew that the king feared what would become
of Adarlan when Dorian took the throne. It was because of this fear that Chaol had been driven to push the king to
allow him to become the Captain of the Guard. He wanted to be close enough to Dorian to keep him free of his
fathers corruption. He wanted to give Adarlan, when the time came, a better future than what it had now. Chaol
never told anyone this, he didnt dare. It was borderline treason, and went against everything that he had established
himself to be, but it was something that he believed in and hoped for with every fiber of his being.

He had let the king think that he wanted to be Captain of the Guard because the life of a noble wasnt meant for him
which was partially true, but it was still for false reasons that Chaol Wydrael had handed his birthright over to his
younger brother and had picked up the mantle of Captain of the Guard.

Chaol liked to believe that because of his sacrifice and his friendship, Dorian had not yet been polluted by his fathers
tyrannical madness. Though he had many faults, Dorian was too much of a free spirit to take in what his father had
tried to spoon-feed him his entire life. True, he could be arrogant and selfish at times, but that was natural for a
prince.

But for the past few months, Chaol had feared another kind of corruption. Celaena Sardothien.

He didnt fear her influences the way that the king did, but he did fear what the king would do to both his prince and
the assassin when those influences came into the open. He was afraid that she would make him reckless with his
fatherand end up paying the ultimate price. His fears were now beginning to come true.

Dorian had attacked a member of his court and then faced his father for her sake.

Chaol glared at the door in front of him.

The Crown Prince had grown a lot in the past few months, but he had recently taken a turn for the worse. He barely
spoke, he barely ate, he barely slept, and now he was openly challenging the King of Adarlan to try to do something
against him. It was too much.

She had done too much damage to Chaols plans. If she had never come, Chaol would have continued to keep the
Crown Prince safe from his fathers whims (somehow), and they would have waited until the king was on his deathbed
to show signs of discontent with himand then the repairs to Adarlan would begin, but now

A deep-throated growl rose from Chaols throat and he brushed his brown hair out of his emerald eyes. Now his job
and his hopes for Adarlan were on the verge of destruction. He didnt know what would happen if the plans for
Wendlyn worked outmassive war would probably break out on the open seas, and the king would probably force
Dorian to go to the battlefield, sending Chaol with him, which, after one experience like that in the past, was a very
foolish idea. Chaol winced as he remembered Dorians first reaction to being on the battlefield. He had been just as
violently sick as his companion. Neither of them had expected that Adarlans idea of war was cold-blooded massacre.

Chaol did not want to be a part of that again.

But if the plans with Wendlyn didnt work out

Chaol took a step towards the door.

Shed die.

But she was ruining everything! It was incredible how a woman such as Celaena Sardothien could have the fate of
Adarlan in her hands. Did she know it? Or was she as oblivious to it as she was to everything else around her? She
fascinated and scared Chaol, which was why he took another step towards the door.
Even months after first meeting her, he still didnt know anything about her past. He barely knew her. He didnt know
where she came from, how she became an assassin, or why she was acting so strangely lately. It had something to do
with the Crown Prince. It had to.

If Dorian didnt snap out of this reckless daze soon, Chaol knew that neither the prince nor the assassin would come
out intact. And because the end was so near, Chaol felt obligated to help out the woman, not the assassin, before
walking into the lions den.

He approached the door and walked in, drawing in a deep breath before entering. She was sitting at her table, as
usual, her head hanging between her shoulders, utterly immersed in the contents of the book before her. Chaol
looked at the veil of golden hair that hid her face; he looked at the long ivory fingers that caressed the edges of the
book, itching to turn to the next page. He found himself admiring the way the honey-colored candlelight flowed across
her smooth skin, her thin, broad shoulders victim to the seduction of shadow and light.

He cleared his throat and she glanced up. There was no warmth in her gaze. He didnt understand why she was acting
this way to him, but it disturbed him nonetheless. Her cold, delicate features examined him, and Chaol found himself
hoping that he passed whatever judgment she was making.

Eventually, she returned her gaze to her book, and Chaol took it as an invitation to sit. She appeared to be ignoring
him, but, upon looking at her eyes, he found that they were not moving. Figuring that he had her full attention, Chaol
strummed his fingers once on the wooden table and then began to speak. There were lots of things he wanted to tell
her, but the most important matter rose to his throat.

Youre going to fight them in two days, you know, he said, his emerald eyes scanning her face.

I know, she said in a monotone voice, still gazing blankly at the page.

Are you ready? he asked. Stupid question. He knew she was ready. She had been ready for this for weeks, for
months, for her whole life.

Yes, was all she said.

Say something to her, damn it! Say something interesting! You know that Madam Tulrouse found you to be the most
socially eligible woman, right?

Yes.

And that if you beat Kaltain and Jodra, youll go to Wendlyn?

Yes.

And are you going to say anything other than yes to me? he snapped.

She looked up at him and stared at him coldly. Yes, she said slowly. There was a moment of silence before she
spoke again. I need to ask a favor of you.

If youre going to suggest going on another killing spree, Ill cut your throat.

Yes? he asked with raised eyebrows, smiling at how the conversation had been flipped over.

There are severalthings that I need to see to in Renaril before I fight. Loose ends that need tying.

Go on, he growled, not liking the way that this conversation was heading.

I dont intend to kill anyone this time, Chaol Wydrael.

Emerald met sapphire as the two stared at each other, their handsome faces barely more than statues in the
candlelight.
I have accounts that need to be settled and closed. There is someone I need to seethere are places that I need to
visit. I wasnt given the chance to do these things the last time I was thrown into the mines, so Id like to take the
opportunity to do so before I die.

Who said youre going to die? he snarled, his eyes flashing.

A wry, bitter smile spread across her face. I think that its very obvious that your king does not want me holding the
fate of his country in my hands.

Dorian would never allow it, Chaol snapped, his words bursting free before he could restrain them.

A flicker ofsomething appeared in her eyes for a split second, and then was consumed by the eternal winter that had
found a home within them.

Either way, she said dismissively, ignoring his comment, I need to be allowed to conduct my business in Renaril
tomorrow.

Can I do that? Do I have the power? Of course I do, damn it. Im the Captain of the Royal Guard, shes under my
protection. But the king

Hell never know.

Ill have to monitor her actions carefully, though. Ill have to send someone with her who knows what hes doing,
someone who wont have any qualms about spending the day with Celaena Sardothien. As much as shes a mental
threat to Dorian, shes still a physical threat to Adarlan.

Chaol nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Ill send someone for you at nine tomorrow. Is that sufficient?

She told him it was and then bid him good night. She stood up from the table and headed in the direction of her
bedchamber. There were many things he still wanted to tell her about, but her distant mood and behavior told him
that he would not get the answers that he desired from herfor now, at least. He stood up and was about to leave the
room when she called his name.

Surprised, he turned around in time to catch a massive, heavy black sack. It was so heavy that he wondered how she
had been able to throw it from about halfway across the room, but his pride forbade him from putting the wretched
thing down. Unfortunately, his muscles didnt, and with a grunt, Chaol dropped the bag onto the stone floor. The
sound of metal clanging against stone filled the air. With raised eyebrows, Chaol looked at the assassin, but her back
was already to him, walking into her bedroom where she shut the door firmly behind her.

Chaol opened the bag, curious to see what she could possibly be giving him.

His mouth dropped open when he saw what lay inside.

Swords, knives, arrows, darts, spiked chainsevery kind of twisted weapon that he could think of. Where in Hell had
she gotten all of this? How long had she had this?

A smell rose from within the sack, and Chaols nose wrinkled in response. It was metallic and sharp and

Chaol saw the ornately carved and painted wooden box that lay amidst the weapons of chaos and carefully pulled it
out. The smell became almost nauseating, but his curiosity fueled him to open the lid. Before he could take in what
lay beneath it, Chaol picked up the note and read it.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Chaol swiftly closed the lid and threw it into the sack before he could get a good look at the other object that lay
within.

He left her room and dragged the heavy bag down the hall, metal and cloth scraping on stone as Chaol Wydrael tried
to ignore the presence of the rotting heart that lay within the box.
Roland DeHavilliard sat in a corner of the large common room of the palace, taking in the heat of the massive glass
fireplace that loomed before him. He sat in an overly stuffed armchair, his feet resting on an ottoman and his chin
residing in an elbow-propped hand. His nose ached, and he looked ridiculous in the bandages that the court physicians
had put on it, but it got him plenty of attention and sympathy from the women of the palace, so it was well-worth it.

Roland sipped at his brandy with his spare hand and glowered at the fire. That bastard.

He had told everyone that the injury had resulted from a playful duel with his cousin, and they had believed his
explanation easily enough. The Crown Prince had been known to break more than noses in duels.

He drained the glass and set it down on the table beside him. He hadnt told their petty little secret, he knew that the
king would have him skinned if he did. The fact that she was Celaena Sardothien explained a lotwhy the prince and
Chaol had been so protective of her, why she was so foreign to court manners, why she had stayed away from him

Celaena Sardothien. In the palace. Unguarded.

He would have been afraid were it not for the heavy amount of brandy in his bloodstream and for the fact that she
had known him for a couple months and hadnt yet killed him. Was she tame?

A disturbing thought rushed through his mind.

Did she kill Anuksun Ytger? That would explain a lot of thingsher bad mood, the Crown Princes bad mood

No.

Roland had enough of a heart to understand that Celaena Sardothien wouldnt have killed the girlthey had been
companions. But what if it had all been a guise? What if Sardothien had been paid to gain the princess trust and then
brutally murder her?

No.

That was his fear talking.

If Dorian DeHavilliard or Chaol Wydrael had suspected Celaena Sardothien of being the murderer of Anuksun Ytger,
they would have hanged her, regardless of how they felt for her.

But those murders in Renaril

A shiver passed through Roland. Several weeks ago, nearly every assassin and high-profile criminal in Renaril had
been wiped out by what some called The Huntress. Roland had seen the body of the first victim, the golden arrow
protruding from the chest, and he remembered the arrow that Lithaen Gordaina had received on Yulemas. Putting two
and two together, Roland felt his stomach clench in fear.

For a week, the Crown Prince had allowed Adarlans assassin to hunt again.

You look like youre going to be sick, a pampered voice crooned. Roland looked over his shoulder to see Kaltain
Rompier standing beside him, her eyebrows high on her forehead. She was a beautiful woman, but so fast that she
took all the fun out of bedding her. Roland had never bothered to sleep with her, he found watching Duke Perringtonn
drool over the woman, who was clearly repulsed, to be much more amusing.

Roland motioned to a servant for another brandy. He looked up at her face. You dont look too well either, he said
with a twisted smile.

She whisked a hand through her ebony hair and sighed dramatically. Ive just been dealing with the Duke.

Ah, Roland said, his smile expanding, is loves blossom in full bloom? Roland knew perfectly well that the only
thing Kaltain wanted in life was Dorian DeHavilliard and the crown of the queen on her head.

Kaltain gave him a piercing look. For the bastard it is, but my love blooms for only one man
Let me guess, Roland said dryly. Dorian DeHavilliard.

The servant handed him his refilled glass of brandy and Roland gulped most of it down, his nose throbbing in pain.
Bastard. Damned bastard.

Well, Roland said, wiping his mouth ungracefully with the back of his hand, it doesnt look like youll be getting
anything more than a thank-you-for-coming note from your beloved prince. It seems to me that he has his eyes and
crown set on Lithaen Gordaina.

From beside him, he heard Kaltain hiss menacingly. Oh, yes, he also knew how much the woman hated Lithaenalso
known as Celaena Sardothien.

That bitch has ruined everything, Kaltain snarled, taking a seat on the ottoman. She looked at his broken nose, her
eyes bright with anger and jealousy. And I have a feeling that your wound is far from playful.

Roland pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and emptied the glass of brandy. He wanted to get drunk. Very drunk.
His broken pride and nose were almost unbearable. The bastard punched me in the face, he snapped, not caring
who heard him.

Kaltain took the glass from his hands and set it down on the table. You shouldnt be drinking like that in here, she
said quickly.

Youre only saying that because you dont want to be seen associating with a drunkard.

Im only saying that so that the king wont kick you out of here.

Roland raised an eyebrow, suddenly cautious. What have I ever done to you, Kaltain that would make you look out
for my reputation?

She smiled, her pretty face gleaming with malice. A little bird told me that youve been hunting Lithaen Gordaina for
a while now

Roland began to object, cursing violently, but Kaltain held a hand up, silencing him. And I have long been hunting
what is innately mine. A wicked smile bloomed across her face as she purred, I believe that it is time, Lord Roland,
that we finally joined forces.

Roland watched her, his brain beginning to be fogged by the two glasses of brandy that he had downed in the last five
minutes. She was just a stupid assassin, not even a threat any more. Chaol had a leash tightly around her; nothing
would ever happen to him if he tried anything. The Crown Prince would never know

What do you suggest? he asked, wondering why there was two of her. Dorian couldnt do anything to him. No one
could touch him.

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward, brushing his blond hair back with her fingers. She smelled lovely

I havent thought of anything yet, she said, still caressing him, igniting his body on fire, but I will soon. Her fingers
traced down his smooth cheek, running down his neck where they played with his collar. Come, Lord Roland, she
crooned, Take a walk with me in the garden.

The garden. Anuksun. Dead. Nine murders in Renaril.

Roland opened his mouth to protest. Theres something about Lithaen Gordaina that you need to know, Roland said,
rising shakily to his feet. Bastard, stupid bastard.

Tell me later, Kaltain whispered into his ear. She linked an arm in his and helped him across the vast hall, making
for the nearest garden.

Roland, lost to brandy, wounded pride, and hate, gladly obliged.

Celaena Sardothien strolled through the streets of Renaril, admiring how clean and pretty it was in the daylight.
Beside her was one of Chaols elite guards, a man by the name of Sorin Deille. He was slightly handsome, the
majority of his appeal coming from his impeccably fit body, and he was a good head and a half taller than Celaena.
His shoulders were broad and strong, and his uniform fit him wonderfully. Were it not for the sword and dagger that
hung at his waist, Celaena might have tried to flirt with him.

Being out of the palace and walking around with a stranger had a calming effect on herSorin didnt bring up any bad
memories, and it was easy to forget the drama and tense atmosphere out in the fresh air of the city. She could smell
the salt water of the estuary, and she breathed in a deep, refreshing breath.

They were on their way to the bank, where Celaena hoped to make sure that her account was still active. There were
some things that she needed to do, debts that needed to be paid.

People bustled past them, occasionally looking at the finely dressed beauty and her companion, assuming them to be
nothing more than mistress and bodyguard on a shopping excursion. Chaol had insisted on Sorin wearing a uniform
that was not embroidered with the special symbol of one of the elite Royal Guard, which had been a blow to Sorins
pride, but in the end the guard had seen the reasoning behind it and had willingly changed into a (lesser) uniform.

It was cold outside, the world still locked in the dregs of winter, and Celaena shivered as she pulled her cloak tighter
around her, then adjusted her gloved hands.

It was stupid of you not to wear something warmer, Sorin said, slightly amused, slightly condescending. Sorin
Deille knew exactly who she was, but he hadnt been phased by it in the least, which was why Chaol had selected
him to escort her today. The man was brave, resourceful, smart, and Chaol had once told her that if he were ever to
resign as Captain of the Guard, hed hand over his position to Deille.

Sorin seemed to know enough about her behavior in the palace to understand what she wouldnt try to do anything,
not when freedom was so close at hand. He was friendly, for the most part, and, for the first time in weeks, Celaena
was willing to talk to someone without cold civility.

I hadnt anticipated it being this cold, she said through gritted teeth.

Thats probably because they pamper you too much, he replied cheerfully, rubbing his hands together to generate
some warmth. They do that with all the court ladies. They dont let any of you experience what real, cold life is like.

Celaena snorted. I know exactly what real, cold life is like.

Oh? Sorin raised a dark eyebrow, his brown eyes glittering with amusement. Chaol had told him to treat her like a
lady, still using the name of Lithaen Gordaina as a cover.

I spent the majority of my life growing up on the streets. I know what its like, she continued. I know what its like
to feel hunger and cold and fear. Ive known those all-too well.

Sorins amusement faded. What about the rest of your life? When you werent on the streets, that is, he asked
seriously as they turned onto a broad, tree-lined avenue.

Celaena shrugged. I dont care to remember that part of my life, she said simply.

Too young? Bad memories? he questioned her, finally putting his cold hands into his pockets.

Celaena just looked at him and said nothing.

I see, said Sorin quietly and looked away. Forgive me for asking, he apologized.

Celaena shook her head. Its nothing to be sorry about, I just dont like to look back on that part of my past. It brings
up too many complications that Id rather not have to face.

Sorin laughed uneasily. Your parents were that bad, eh?

Celaena stared at the white, clean street. There was nothing wrong with them, she said quietly, too quietly. They
were murdered.

Im sorry, he offered, his face full of pity. Celaena felt aggravated. She hated pity when it concerned her.

Dont be, she snapped, pushing back the images that were beginning to enter her conscious. Its not your fault
theyre dead.

Dont lose itdont let the images get a hold of you. Control yourselfcontrol

I was just

I know what you meant. I dont want your pity, she growled.

Celaena saw that Sorins hand had drifted out of his pocket and was making a steady course towards the pommel of
his sword.

Controlcontrol

She let out an irritated sigh. Its nothing to get all excited over, she said calmly, eyeing his hand. Sorin Deille
lowered his hand and placed it back in his pocket.

Celaena gave him a wry smile. I thought that Chaol would have told you that they filed down my teeth and claws.

Sorin seemed embarrassed. Hethe Captain, he said that he blushed and looked in the other direction.

Yes? she purred, amusingly interested in what Chaol had warned the young man about that might make him so
uncomfortable.

Sorin cleared his throat and straightened up, not to be beat by a shorter, weaker womanwho happened to be the
worlds greatest assassin and one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but that was all besides the point.
He said that I should look out for flowerpots, Sorin muttered.

Celaena choked on the air that she was breathing. Flowerpots? What the

Recognition flared in her mind and Celaena burst out laughing. It had been the first time shed really laughed in
weeks, and it felt wonderful. Oh, she said, gasping for breath as she continued to laugh, oh, oh, oh Celaena had
to stop walking to continue laughing

Sorin scowled at her, halting his step to allow her time to collect herself. Several passers-by gave them quizzical
looks, but continued on their way, not wishing to make more of a spectacle the Lady.

Celaena calmed herself and straightened up, wiping her eyes. Her stomach hurt from laughing. Her lips quivered with
amusement as she took a deep breath and picked up her pace once again.

Im sorry, she said to Sorin, trying to control her laughter. But you see, when I first came to Renaril, there was this
incident Celaena laughed again, though it was more of a chuckle now. Do you know of Kaltain Rompier, Sorin?
Celaena asked with a wicked grin.

Not surprisingly, Sorin Deille let out a groan, grimacing.

I feel the same way, Celaena said dryly. So, when I first came to the palace, I was out on my balcony and
overheard Kaltain talking below, insulting another girl behind her back. Im sure youll understand when I tell you that
it was only by accident that I knocked the flowerpot off of my balcony with my elbow, hoping that it would crack her
skull open.

What happened? Sorin asked, his face slightly pale, but his lips smiling.

Celaena grinned wickedly. I missed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Sorin Deille tipped back his head and laughed loudly.

Celaena stared at the bank accountant and tried to keep her temper down to a minimal level. What do you mean I
cant access them? she said, her tongue whipping the end of every word.

The bald man nervously wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a handkerchief. I dont know if you, as a convicted
criminal, are able to access your accounts.

Celaena let out a long hiss through her grated teeth and clenched her fists, trying to leash her anger. At least the
accounts were still there But what was the use of having them if she couldnt use them?

In the contract, I dont recall ever reading that I couldnt access my vaults on the terms that I became a criminal.

The mans pudgy hand grasped as his collar, trying to loosen it. Was it hot in here? She hadnt noticed.

Rules change, the man said weakly.

I signed that contract before they did, so you can either let me access my accounts or Ill simply withdraw them from
your bank.

You cant, the man whined, writhing with unease in his seat.

Im Adarlans assassin, she snarled, I can do whatever the Hell I want.

From behind her, she heard Sorin Deille take a step forward, and she didnt need to turn around to know that his
hand was resting on the pommel of his sword, waiting to draw it in case of any physical aggression.

I could kill you both if it pleased me.

The poor accountant was shaking like a leaf in his chair, his face as pale as the white wall behind him, his hands
grasping some hidden item beneath his desk, probably a dagger that was used for defense.

But the rules the man tried, his voice wobbling as much as his flabby body.

Screw the rules, Celaena snapped. She needed to access her accounts.

The man stammered something, but Sorin cut him off, approaching the desk. On behalf of the Captain of the Guard,
I think its best that you do what she wants, he said slowly.

The bald man stood up so suddenly that his chair almost fell over behind him, saying something almost incoherent
about talking to his boss. He scuttled around the edge of the desk farthest from Celaena, practically pressed against
the wall. She followed him with her eyes, basking in the fear that emitted from him. It was pleasant to know that her
name and presence still had such a charming effect on people.

It only took about half a minute for the president of the bank to appear. Unlike his employee, the president smiled at
her and took a seat at the accountants desk, cool and collected. He was old, his tan skin wrinkled and weathered, but
he was still filled with vivacity that was apparent in his sparkling blue eyes.

He steepled his fingers and leaned back in the leather chair. I understand that youre having a bit of a difficulty, Miss
Sardothien.

Let me access my goddamn accounts, she hissed at him, growing more irritated by the moment. If he had come to
politely tell her no, he had another thing coming to him. She felt the heavy hand of Sorin land upon her shoulder, a
silent reminder that he was still in the room.

I fully intend to let you do so, Miss Sardothien, he said quickly. However, before I do, I would like to remind you
that making emotional mincemeat out of my employees is not something that I will allow for you to do. His eyes
twinkled as he said this, and Celaena felt her temper easing.
Its not my fault he got himself into such a tizzy, she muttered, her muscles relaxing.

The old man winked at her. I believe the words Im Adarlans assassin, I can do whatever the Hell I want,
constitutes as your fault.

Celaenas mouth popped open in surprise.

The old man chuckled to himself. Come now, he said with a witty smile, you dont actually think Id send one of my
workers into a room with you and only a single guard?

Sorin straightened at this, taking obvious offense at the idea that his skills were not enough to restrain her, but the
president didnt seem to notice.

The wall to your left, the president said to Celaena, motioning to it with a jerk of his chin, is made out of glass.
Celaenas brow furrowed in confusion. It looked just like the other walls of the room!

Allow me to explain, the president said, still smiling. Its a special kind of glass used for security purposes. Its
made to blend in with the surroundings perfectly. You cant see through it, but from the other side of the wall, we can
see and hear you clear as day.

She was impressed, but also taken aback. Oh, was all that she managed to say.

I was hoping that my executive could handle you, but I realized when he burst from the room and could only say
some incoherent jibberish about you, that I would have to deal with you myself.

He took out a piece of paper from the desk and pulled out a glass pen. Now, he said, tell me what you want to do
with your accounts.

Celaena and Sorin sighed again in relief, though for different reasons, and the young guard removed his hand from
her shoulder.

I want to know how much I have left, she began. The president scribbled something down on his paper. And out of
what I do have, I want you to send five thousand of it to this person. Celaena leaned forward in her chair, taking the
pen and paper from the president, and wrote down a name upon the parchment. The president took the page and the
pen back from the assassin, looked down at the name written on the piece of paper and nodded.

I also want you to transfer the gold from my other account into my main one. And when youre done doing that, I
want you to change the name of my account to this She took the pen and paper again and wrote down another
name.

Is that all? the president asked.

Celaena shook her head. If someone should come inquiring about my account, only give access to this person.
Another name was added. Youre only to give him this much, she continued, writing down the sum for the president,
taking control of the pen and paper. Celaena scanned the page over and bit down on her lip, thinking of any other
things that needed to be done. Ah, yes, she said, picking up the pen once more, I need you to take fifteen hundred
out and give it to this association. More writing.

Celaena sighed, considering her last choice, and then gave in. Theres a young writer, she said slowly, barely into
the writing world Celaena wrote the name down. I want you to keep an eye on him. Hes not rich, and can barely
afford to buy his own paper. I want you to, if youd be so kind, assist him financially until hes able to support himself.
Im granting you full access to my account to do so anonymously. Keep the costs within reason, Mr. President, Id like
to have some money in my account when I return.

Celaena wrote the statement down, signed it, and then began writing another. Which brings me to another thing.
Should Inot return, meaning should I go back to the mines of Endovier or be killed in any way, Id like you to give
my fortune equally divided to these people. She finished the will, hoping that it would suffice, and signed it again. Is
this all right with you? she asked the president with raised brows as she pushed the paper and pen back towards
him.

The president examined the page for a moment and then nodded. Its all within reason and easily doable.
Celaena rose from her seat. Its been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. President.

He stuck out his hand across the desk, and Celaena shook it firmly. The pleasure, Miss Sardothien, he said with a
twinkle in his eye and genuine kindness in his smile, has been all mine. Ill see to it immediately that what you
requested is done.

Releasing his hand, Celaena nodded her thanks and left the room, Sorin following closely behind her.

Celaena the assassin and Sorin the guard walked through the streets of Renaril once more, though this time they
were headed for the poorer neighborhoods. She had tied all of her loose ends but oneone that had to be settled in
person.

Sorins body was tense with unease as the clean, white streets faded into dirty, gray, cracked ones. He probably
suspected that she was leading him into a crummy neighborhood in hopes of killing him and then escaping. His hands
kept on drifting to the weapons that were sheathed at his side, but he never drew them.

She didnt have to go far into the slums of Renaril to find what she had been hoping still existed. It was a corner
crowded with playing children, and against one of the street walls stood a sullen-looking, dirty child, glancing at the
group of youngsters around him. It was a boy no older than twelve, and she had never seen him before, but Celaena
knew immediately who he was.

The children ignored the Lady dressed in finery that pushed past them, their shrieking games far more interesting
than another snot-nosed noble pressing where they werent wanted. Celaena and Sorin approached the boy, whose
eyes widened at the sight of her, but said nothing.

She drew close enough to him and muttered a few words into his ear, subtly pressing a gold coin into his hand.

The boy pocketed the coin, but looked up at her with suspicious eyes. That was the old password, he said bluntly.

Celaena hissed through her teeth in impatience for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and cocked her
head to one side. I dont give a damn whether or not its right, its a password and youre going to fetch him for me.

Give me another gold coin and I might consider it.

I might consider starting at your feet and ending at your neck, breaking every bone in between.

The boy gulped, the insolence of youth disappearing in a second. Celaena grabbed the boy by the collar, and yanked
him off of the wall. Thinking that the Lady would fulfill her promise, the youth pried himself from her grasp and
staggered back a few steps, glancing at Sorin with hopeful eyes. The guard only looked blankly at the boy, proving
that he wouldnt hesitate to let the woman do as she pleased with him.

Do you know who I am? she softly asked the boy.

He shook his head, his eyes wide with something that resembled a mixture of fear and awe. Celaena looked away
from him and stared at the group of playing children.

Tell your master that Celaena Sardothien wishes to see him.

She heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by the scuffling sound of boots against cobblestone, and when she
turned to look at the boy once more, he was gone.

Celaena smiled to herself as the figure emerged from the shadows of the alley. It a large man, strong and powerful
though past the prime of his years, and he walked the streets with a feline grace that Celaena had known her entire
life. Before he had come into the light, Celaena had known what she was to expect from his physical prowess.

He had red hair that was flecked with silver and was beginning to wane around the temples, and his nose was crooked
from being broken three times. He had a finger-length scar that stretched from an inch above the left side of his jaw
to two inches down his neck, plus a thin, short one directly below his right eye. There were interesting stories behind
these marks of age, but Celaena didnt bother to think of them. From one of his ears hung a slender golden hoop, and
despite that roguish feature, he was impeccably dressed in finery that only nobles and first-class citizens could afford.
His gray eyes widened as he saw her, but he quickly hid his surprise and whatever other feeling he felt behind a mask
of iron and stone. Youre alive, he said in his deep, smooth voice.

Im surprised that you are as well, she purred, stepping forward.

A smile would have appeared on his face if he hadnt seen Sorin behind her. The guard was watching the stranger
with intense curiosity, grasping his pommel like he normally did when he felt threatened. Looking at the other,
Celaena watched the man drop his hand to hang loosely at his side, a sign that he as about to

Hes not here for that. Not this time anyway, she said quickly. Hes here as an escortfor me.

Trusting her word, his hand drifted upwards until his arm draped across his middle casually, and his other arm
propped up on it to support his chin.

Its been a long time, Arobynn Hamel, Celaena said quietly. Care for a stroll?

Lady, it would be my pleasure, he said smoothly, bowing gracefully before he took her arm in his. They walked out
of the miserable neighborhood and onto the bright, clean avenue of the wealthier parts of the city, the glass castle
looming to their right and Sorin trailing behind them like a shadow.

You look well, he said finally. I thought that youd be dead by now.

A couple months ago, I practically was, she said dryly.

He raised a fiery eyebrow. Our beloved leader had a change of heart?

Celaena snorted. Lets just say that he decided that my sentence would be better spent for his own benefit. Ive been
allowed out of the cage known as the palace for one day to tie some things up. Tomorrow my fate is to be decided,
and I thought Id pay you a visit. Ill be leaving whether I pass judgment tomorrow or not, but what matters is what
direction Ill be leaving in.

Arobynn nodded in comprehension, but frowned. Have they been taking good care of you?

Celaena shrugged. In comparison to those bastards in the mines, of course. They still treat me like a wild animal, but
then again

But then again, you do have claws and fangs, Arobynn finished with a smile. It pleases me that my pupil continues
to instill fear and dread in the hearts of thousands.

You saw to it that it did.

And I still continue to do so.

Celaena gave him an amused, quizzical look. So that was why I received such a warm greeting from that bank
executive.

Darling, he said with a flourish of his free hand, Im not referring to the bank. Im talking about the whole goddamn
world.

I have a sick feeling that if it werent for you, I might have gotten off with one life sentence instead of four.

If it hadnt been for me, you would have been dead before you reached your ninth birthday. Besides, he said
dismissively, you did all of the wonderful work. I just spread the news.

They were quiet for a few minutes, as they walked down random streets, no location in mind. Celaena surveyed her
companion. This was the man who had turned her into what she was today. It still surprised her that such an elegant
yet flamboyant, excited yet calm man could be the head of an elite underground assassins guild. He had taught her
everything, how to handle weapons, or how to turn an ordinary object into one. He had arranged for her first jobs, he
had sheltered and clothed her and saved her from the grim fate that had awaited her as a child. He was the only
father figure in her life.
Hows the business? she finally asked, breaking the silence.

An expression of discontent spread across his lined face. After you were captured, it went downhill. No, it didnt even
go downhillit just disappeared. No assassins wanted jobs, no one wanted to hire; the risks had become too great.
We were all ruined, he said bitterly.

Im sorry, she offered, feeling guilt for the devastation she had caused to the man who had put everything on the
line for her.

Its not your fault, he assured her. It could have happened to any of us, it was just a pity that it had to happen to
you. You, who reached the top and still had more potential to give

Im still capable of killing, you know! she snapped, unable to control herself. She was not ruined.

He stared at her with that condescending look that had, at times, driven her into a bout of red-hot rage. She hated
being talked or looked down upon, especially by him. She had surpassed his skills! She had paid her debts to him!
She didnt owe him anything but loyalty for saving her life!

Loyalty

Anuksun. Chaol. Dorian.

Celaena looked at Arobynn. Here was her past. Celaena glanced at the glass castle shining in the sun. There was her
future. What did she owe this man but gratitude?

For remembrance, as a reminder.

She owed her future everything. She owed it to Anuksun not to slip back into the past. She owed it to Chaols future
as Captain of the Guard not to get involved with Arobynn again. She owed it to Dorian DeHavilliard

Are you? Arobynn asked quietly, noting where her eyes fell in the distance.

Celaena lowered her gaze to the pavement in front of her. She was Adarlans assassin, wasnt she? She was still the
worlds greatest assassin, right? She was

Celaena, I wont think any less of you if you dont come back.

She whipped her head over in his direction and stared at him. Had he read her thoughts?

Arobynn ran a hand through his rust-colored hair. I should have given you the choice before, long before you became
Adarlans assassin and were sent to the mines. If you hadnt been caught, I would have eventually done it, but now
that youre here He let out a long sigh.

Celaena, with your past, you could

I know what I could do, she interrupted, not wanting to hear the words. And I wouldnt do it. It wouldnt work, not
now, not ever.

But if they just knew

If the king knew, hed execute me on the spot.

His son

Celaena laughed bitterly. Dorian? Oh, Dorian wouldnt be able to handle it. His whole world would fall apart.

Isnt there anyone?

No, she barked, theres no one here, no one in Trasien, no one anywhere. That path is not for me, Arobynn.
He shook his head sadly and stopped at a large intersection, turning to face her fully. You never did realize your full
potential, even at the height of your career. For someone who recently purged Renaril of some of my finest guild
members, you lack an incredible amount of courage.

Her face darkened. She hated it when he critiqued her. Courage? she asked him, her voice like ice. If your
definition of courage is equal to suicide, then I know a fair number of people who are just as cowardly as I am.
Those men needed to die, Arobynn. They had all gone too far.

How would you know? he snapped, his gray eyes churning in anger like the sea. You havent been around, youve
been replaced. How would you know who was in need of judgment? Who were you to give it to them? A sneer spread
itself across his face, revealing a set of crooked teeth. She hated it when he was angry with her

Or did your precious prince take you out of the mines to do just that? Does he have you wrapped around his finger,
Celaena? Does his pretty face confuse and enamor you to the point where you cant think for yourself? The market
was just starting to come back and once again you have shoved us down. Damn you, Celaena Sardothien. Damn
you.

The icy river of Death sweeping her away

No, stop. Controlcontrol

For remembrance, as a reminder.

He killed my friend, she said, looking away from his face.

Who killed whom?

Her name was Princess Anuksun Ytger, she said with a strained voice, and that bastard Graev raped and butchered
her. I had to kill him. I had to kill them all. For remembrance, as a reminder.

The castle reflected the light of the sun radiantly, and it seemed to glow like spiritfire in the fading afternoon light.

There was no pay involved, Arobynn. Only justice.

His silence was proof of his acceptance of her words.

The crowds continued to flow past them, unaware of the life-altering conversation that was occurring between them.

Good-bye, Arobynn Hamel, Adarlans assassin said and turned away. Celaena Sardothien began to walk in the
direction of the castle, assuming once again the cold air that she had embraced for the past few weeks.

Arobynn Hamel stared at the young woman as she strode away, the guard following behind her, his heart filled with
guilt and pity. He had done terrible things in his life, but none were so terrible as to what he had done to this
wretched creature. But he had been young and angry then, angry with the government that had consumed his
beautiful country. He had wanted to forge a weapon that would hurt its invaders more than any sword or arrow or
army. And he had succeeded.

Behind her, the sun was setting, its rays reaching out with long arms to embrace and ensnare her once more, but she
paid it no heed. She kept on walking towards the glass castle, towards the golden light that poured from it, her head
high and her will like cold iron.

He had created this

Tomorrow, she had said, tomorrow her fate was to be decided. Tomorrow shed do whatever she had been saved from
the mines to do or shed return to the death that awaited her. Tomorrow the future of the country, though she did not
know it, would be sealed.

Arobynn Hamel took one last look at her and smiled as she faded into the distance.
She cast no shadow, the light of the setting sun and the reflecting dawn of the glass castle hitting her with the same
force on both sides. She walked onwards in this golden, blazing light, showing no sign of stopping. As he turned to
walk back to his apartment, he saw an image, an image that he took as a sign from above, and it eased the guilt and
aching in his heart.

All around her head, light bounced off of her golden hair, creating a halo, a crown of shimmering stars that stopped
several people in their tracks as they saw it. The crown burned with the strength of the sunset and the sunrise, the
past and the present, and it burned with a strength that was all its own.

A tear ran down his scarred cheek. A tear of joy, a tear of despair, a tear of hope that those who also saw the blazing
crown would understand it for what it was and find strength and courage in it.

Good-bye, Celaena Sardothien, he whispered to himself as he walked away into the night, not bothering to wipe
away the path the tear had forged.

Good-bye

CHAPTER 29

Kaltain Rompier stood before the King of Adarlan, a feeling that bordered between fear and delight swelling within her
chest. It was a great honor to be requested for a private meeting with the king, but it could also be a very bad sign.
What if he knew about the princess? Shed be executedand shed never be Queen.

In a moment of despair and right, Kaltain raised her eyes to the great mans face, looking for the sentence that was
surely to be bestowed upon her. She saw no look of anger or ruthless wrath. Relief flooded through her. He didnt
know about Anuksunor if he did, he wasnt going to do anything about it.

Rising from her curtsey, Kaltain briefly glanced over at Duke Perringtonn, who was standing beside her. She watched
the two masterful men exchange smug expressions before they turned their attention to her. What was going on?

One of Kaltains small ivory hands grasped onto the folds of the skirt of her dress, displaying the nervous feelings that
were still lurking inside of her though she had visual confirmation that she would not be punished for the death of the
princess. But what if she had unknowingly done something else? What if someone had overheard her conversation
with Roland a few days ago? What if they knew what they were planning?

Ill find out whoever did this and skin them from head to toe.

Lady Kaltain, the King of Adarlan said with the kind smile that he always reserved for her. Her nervousness eased
once again. He wouldnt address her like that if she were going to be punished. Maybe she would be rewarded! Its
about damn time.

Do you understand that come tomorrow morning, you will be facing off Jodra Nustrom and, the King of Adarlan
paused, his face writhing with dislike, Lithaen Gordaina.

You mean Celaena Sardothien. Kaltain had been shocked at first to hear who the wench really wasshocked, then
terrified, and then suddenly the pieces had all come together.

The prince had been spending so much time with Celaena Sardothien to keep her from thinking about killing Kaltain!
It was so simple and wonderful that Kaltain couldnt help smiling as she thought about it. The prince had been
neglecting her to save her from Celaena Sardothien. Why, it was obvious that the assassin was madly in love with the
prince, and if she knew that Dorian and Kaltain were secretly meant to be together, she would probably go mad and
kill everyone! Oh, my prince, you never cease to amaze me. What wit, what charm, what courage! To put yourself in
dangers way to keep me, your beloved future Queen, safeSoon, my darling! Soon we will be together

Duke Perringtonn tells me that your skills with a sword have greatly improved in that past few months, Kaltain.

Kaltain blushed with shame. It was so unladylike to have those wretched lessonsit calloused her hands and made
her sweat and smell bad, andwhy was she doing it again? Something about Wendlyn?

Should you defeat both other girls, you know what will happen, correct?
Ill marry the prince! Of course, your highness, she said huskily.

The king sighed darkly. There is something that the Duke and I thought we should warn you about, my dear Kaltain.
The Lady Lithaen Gordaina is not whom she appears to be. I dont want to frighten you, Lady, and do not be alarmed
when I tell you that Lithaen Gordaina is really Celaena Sardothien.

You clod, of course I knew that. Oh! she gasped, feigning surprise. Oh, myI knew that there was something
wrong with her Kaltains brows knitted in false concern. But the prince! He surely knows, doesnt he? Why would
his majesty spend time with such a lowlife criminal? Why would he endanger himself like that? she said, putting a
hand to her heart as she batted her long eyelashes furiously.

A sad smile spread across the kings face and she heard Duke Perringtonn click his tongue approvingly. I dont know,
my sweet Lady, but your concern warms my heart. Youve always been very caring about my son, and Im sure that
one day your worries will be well-rewarded. A look passed between them that only Kaltain and the King of Adarlan
could catch and understand.

Kaltains heart nearly burst out of her chest for joy. The King of Adarlan had just given his permission and consent for
her to marry Dorian DeHavilliard! Fighting the instinct to throw her arms around the king and hug him, and
remembering that Duke Perringtonn was still in the picture, Kaltain kept a straight face.

Because both his majesty and I are puzzled and alarmed by the princes behavior, weve decided that some drastic
measures must be taken, my Lady, the Duke crooned, sounding more like a simpering walrus than a love-struck
man.

The king nodded in agreement. Which is why, Lady, we believe it to be acceptable to say that should you go further
than trapping Celaena Sardothien at killing-point, no harm would come to you.

Kaltain Rompier blinked. Was she getting permission to

I know that killing is not one of your natural instincts, the king offered gently, but it has become the only option for
us. Celaena Sardothien is a criminal and a poison to this countrys well being. While Im held to my word not to harm
her until this contest is over, you, Kaltain are not.

Kill someone? She had never actually killed anyone with her bare handstrue, she had hired an assassin and had him
butcher an innocent girl, and true she had had men hanged by her father before, but it was different when she had to
do it herselfespecially against Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans assassin. How could she, an innocent flower, withstand
the destructive killing instinct of a thorn-bush like Celaena Sardothien? How could she possibly kill her?

Kaltain bowed low to the king before making her reply, her hands clenching her skirt once more. Shes Celaena
Sardothien, she said, her voice trembling. Kill herhow could she do that with her bare hands? Just run her through
with the blade? Where? How would she die the fastest? What if she didnt die?

Which is why weve decided to give you as much of an advantage as possible, the king said. You see, each of you is
to bring your own weapon into the fighting ring tomorrowif you do not bring one in by the chosen time, you fight
with your bare hands

Seeing that Kaltain was still not catching on, the king sighed and continued. No one has told this to either my son or
the captain of the guard. No one is going to.

Kaltains eyes lit up with understanding. So you mean for Celaena to go into the ring unarmed?

It will give you the best advantage, the king smiled. Plus, well have her worn down by Jodra Nustrom firstshe
may not even beat Jodra, but either way, you will fight her with the greater advantage.

Fighting Celaena Sardothien unarmed was like fighting a lion deprived of its teeth and claws. It could still fight with
sheer muscle, but when tired and possibly injured, it would be like slaying an infant. A wicked smile bloomed across
Kaltains face. Once Celaena Sardothien was dead, the path would be clear to Dorian DeHavilliard. All that she had to
do was run Celaena through with her swordit would take one movement and less than three seconds for Kaltain
Rompier to win a duel and a crown.
Kaltain curtsied, bowing her head so that the king and the Duke could not see the look of triumph that had unrolled
itself across her features. It will be done, your majesty, Kaltain purred, with pleasure.

She was running again. Running through the skeleton woods of her dreams. Hard, thick roots reached upwards from
the cold, moist soil to grab onto her ankles and bring her down. She leapt over them with coltish legs, stumbling and
staggering with speed. The sound of hooves pounded in her ears like the drums from the army of Hell. As she fled
from the beat, everything around her was darkeven the air tasted black in her aching, dry throat. She was running,
running

Spidery-limbed braches grabbed at her dress and whipped her face, ripping and tearing and biting. Run! Faster,
faster

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Hurry!

Faster, move!

The shrill cry of a sword being drawn from its sheath echoed through the night.

Gods above, run!

Dead, dead. Everyone was dead. Faster, faster! Escape!

The black horse appeared from behind her, bursting free from the trees and into the clearing she was in the process
of running through.

Fly, fool, fly! Hurry! The bridge!

She fled faster, screaming in terror as Death charged after her on his steed, his silver sword poised to strike her down
with one blow.

Run

Dead

Escape

There was roaring now, a roar that drowned out Death, and the ground became mud that tried to hold her feet fast in
its embrace. She flung herself through it, losing both of her tiny slippers, her arms flailing around in the air to keep
her upright. What was that rushing noise?

Darkness everywhere

Ah, dry soilrun faster!

Roaring, beating, drums, faster

A light in the distancea housethe bridgefind the bridge! Tired, so tiredachingRun! Fly! Faster! Hurry!

Death closing in

Pounding the soil beneath

Roaring, angry, consuming

And then falling.

Fallingfalling
Ic

Celaena Sardothien awoke with a gasp; one hand grasping her throat and the other clutching at her chest. Her eyes
stared up at the ceiling wildly as she panted, trying to settle her nerves. There was a sharp intake of breath to her
left. Her heart leaping out of her chest in momentary surprise and fear, she turned frantic eyes to see Chaol Wydrael
standing over her, his hand poised above her shoulder as if he had been in the process of trying to wake her up. Relief
and then irritation flowed through her and she sighed and looked back up at the ceiling, attempting to calm her
pounding heart. Just a dreamJust a dream

I was just trying to wake you upI didnt mean toI mean, you were having a he tried, somewhat embarrassed.

She shook her head dismissively. It was just a dream, she said quietly, sitting up and running shaking hands
through her hair. It was just a dream

Fleetfoot picked up her fawn-colored head from the pillow beside the assassin, sniffed once in Chaols direction, and
upon deciding that nothing of interest or concerning food was going on, fell back asleep beside Celaena with an
exaggerated huff.

Chaol ruffled Fleetfoots silky coat, causing the animal to open one eye in agitation and then shut it again. The young
man looked back at the woman laying in front of him his brows crossed in worry. Youre pale as a ghost, he said,
straightening up. Do you want some water or tea?

Strong, something strongStop shakingBrandy, she moaned, clutching the sides of her head, frustrated at her
own frightened body. Get me a glass of brandy.

Thats not the best thing to drink at this time of day, he said with a raised eyebrow, Especially when you have
something as critical as these duels going on in an hour.

Thats why I want it, she said coldly, lowering her hands into her lap. Get me a snifter of bran

No, he said flatly. Drink some water. Ill not have you falling all over yourself and making a mess of everything.

Why wouldnt her hands stop shaking? It was just a dream, just a nightmare, nothing that could hurt her anymore

She hissed through clenched teeth and got out of bed, arranging her twisted nightgown. Just a dream

If youre not going to be helpful, she growled stalking towards the door, then get the hell out. I can fix my own
drink if you wont.

The only problem is: you dont have any brandy, he said smugly. I only saw tea and pastries out in your sitting
room, and I doubt Farana would be pleased if you

Farana can burn in hell. Get me something strong, damn you.

Have you ever even had brandy?

Dont question me, just get me some.

Tea will do just fine.

I want brandy.

Well youre not going to get it.

Celaena gave Chaol a venomous look and strode out of her bedchamber. It wasnt just her body that was feeling
shaken right now. In an hour, just an hour, her freedom would be decided. She almost felt as if shed trained her
whole life for this, but then realized that this was just another step on the roador her last. She hadnt waited to do
this her whole life, but rather her whole life depended on this. It was terrifying.
If Anuksun had been around, she would have felt

Blood, snow, ice

Stop it.

Celaenas step faltered as she approached her dining table, the images in her head fighting to control her once more.
She grasped the arm of a chair and clenched her eyes shut, holding onto reality for dear life.

The House of Death, screaming, demanding, crying

Fight it

Anuksun butchered. Dorian--

Celaena? Chaol appeared from behind her, and very cautiously put a hand on her shoulder. Are you he stopped
short, his brows bunching together with worry as he saw the look on her face.

Running, flying, falling

No, noNot here

I she gasped, fighting it with every ounce of will in her body.

Dead, dead, everyone was dead

Please!

His grip on her shoulder tightened, almost painful.

Life

The bridge, the light

Escape

And then, just as swiftly as it had come, it vanished. Her tensed body relaxed and she collapsed down into the chair,
using the plate in front of her as an anchor to the real world. As long as she could see and sense that plate, shed be
fine

Chaol released her shoulder and took the seat beside her. She could feel his eyes upon her face. Shame and
humiliation flooded through her. She had lost control in his presence. She, Adarlans assassin

Graevs heart

The plate, the plate.

Celaenas hands whipped forward and she grabbed the painted glass plate. She had thought that getting rid of the
heart would rid her of the images; she had thought that it would help

The duelsjust think about the duels. It will all be over in a couple of hoursit will all be over

I have to get out of here.

Sardothien

I need to leave.
Celaena Chaol reached forward, and to her surprise, removed one of her hands from its grip on the plate and took
it in both of his.

Bastard.

She wasnt a weakling; she didnt need his pity or concern. Celaena yanked back her hand and raised her eyes to his
face, leaving the safety of the plate. She clutched her hand as if it had been burned, her lips curling upward in a snarl.

I know youre worried that

Missing eyes, missing breast, missing heart

No!

Get out, she barked.

Chaol looked taken aback.

Get the hell out, she growled, still clutching her hand. Her nails dug into her soft flesh, hoping that physical pain
would provide the strength that she needed to remain in reality. Leave, she hissed at him.

Chaol stood up; his green eyes filled with anger. His expression quickly changed to worry when he saw the droplets of
blood forming where her nails were piercing her skin. Here was a woman who was fighting desperately maintain
control

Chaol hid his concern, learning from past mistakes, and stared at her for a minute longer. Her teeth were barred in a
snarl, but her eyes

There was a speck of something in her eyes that told him that the control she was trying to hold onto had nothing to
do with anything physical.

A spark of momentary frustration and annoyance flared in Chaols heart. He could do nothing to help herand if he
could, she would sooner die than accept his help. Keeping his face blank, Chaol slowly turned and left the room,
pausing at the doorway to tell her where and when she was to meet for the final competition.

Celaena watched him go, ignoring the five miniature streams of blood that were pouring down her right hand.

Keep them at a distance

Keep them all at a distance

Keep them safe

With a sigh, Celaena released her deadly grip on her hand and stared down at what she had done to herself. Was this
the price of safety? Her eyes fell to the drops of blood that had fallen on the marble floor.

I dont know

Celaena Sardothien looked at the designated dueling area and felt her stomach clench. It was a wide, open rectangle
of black and white marble located in some distant part of the palace; one side facing a set of shimmering twenty-foot
glass windows, another lined with a massively long table, and the other two sides exposed to the snow-frosted
garden. Why they were having the competition outside was beyond Celaena. Didnt they want to keep this thing
private?

She shivered slightly at the cold, wishing that she had worn something warmer than the doeskin pants and undershirt
she had chosen. It felt great to be wearing sensible clothing once again, but it would have been nice for Chaol to have
told her that shed be forced to fight in the snow.
Celaena looked up at the sapphire sky and clenched her teeth as another gust of wind hurled itself at her. She
watched with borderline amusement as pages and servants scurried all around and across the arena, chasing after
flyaway papers and other objects. The wind was unnaturally strong today.

Just what I need. Another obstacle.

Celaena looked at the long table adjacent to her and frowned. The thirteen seats were beginning to be filled. She
noted the throne at the center of the table, and knew who would be seated there. The other twelve seats remained
unknown to her, but she could only guess that the kings advisors and foreign ministers would be placed there.

Where were Jodra and Kaltain?

She had never fought Kaltain beforeit had always been a goal of Celaenas to stay as far away from the wretched
monster as possiblebut she had sparred once or twice with Jodra and had found the girls strength to be above
average. Thankfully, the redheads skills were not nearly as impressive as her brute force, so Celaena was confident
that she could easily outdo the girl with whatever weapon she was given.

But Kaltain

Despite Kaltains meek appearance, the girl had both strength and skill on her side. Kaltain suffered the title of having
experienced the most improvement while training, and she was now something of a threat to Celaena. Where the
horrible woman got that skill and strength was beyond the assassin, but Celaena didnt care to puzzle it for too long.

Almost as if summoned from her thoughts, both Jodra and Kaltain appeared on the far end of the court, their faces
scrunched up against the howling wind. With a quick glance at their attire, Celaena grimly noted that someone had
told them about the weather conditions.

With a frown, Celaena leaned against one of the glass windows and watched the men who began to seat themselves
at the table. She noted Anuksuns father; and with an inward smile, she watched two aging men cast anxious, worried
glances in her direction before seating themselves. Lord Urizen and Lord Garnel. Two power-hungry bastards that
owed their current positions to her dirty work. For the sheer pleasure of it, she flashed them a wicked smile. They
each caught the expression and paled, their clumsy hands managing to knock whatever lay in front of them over onto
the table. Shed keep their dirty secretjust for the sake of her name, but if push came to shove and she needed an
extra vote to get out of this hellhole

Celaena winked at both shaken men and then turned her gaze to another.

The King of Adarlan.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She watched him bellow orders to servants to secure the papers on the table with stones, his large hands pointing in
several directions. This was the bastard who had thrown her into the mines. This was the bastard who had

You should have worn something warmer. It was Chaol. Celaena glanced at her punctured hand and then up at his
handsome face.

No one told me Id be doing this outside, she snarled. The wind whipped at her hair, knotting it between its rough
fingers.

The last of the kings judges seated themselves at the table and the King of Adarlan rose to his feet, putting a hand in
the air. Chaol nudged Celaena forward with an elbow, motioning for her to go stand before the table with Kaltain and
Jodra. She hated the feel of those many pairs of eyes on hershe hated feeling like an animal in a zoo.

But there was one pair of eyes she didnt feel. Where was Dorian DeHavilliard? Celaena looked at the table and saw
that the Crown Prince was not seated on either side of his father. As she approached the table, she scanned it twice
for a sign of the Crown Prince, but didnt see him in any of the seats.

She came to a halt ten feet in front of the judges table and stared at the King of Adarlan, her insides shaking.
Freedom or death lay at this table. Her past and future lay seated before her on a glass throne.
There was movement in the right corner of the room beside the table, and Celaena turned her eyes to see the Crown
Prince squeeze out of a window. He swiftly walked to the opposite side of the room, where he took his place beside
Chaol.

Looking at Dorian and Chaol had a calming effect. However, Dorian looked awfully pale What had happened to him?

The cold wind burst past her, causing her to take a step back to balance herself. Celaena caught a glimpse of another
two figures on the other side of the rectangle. Anuksuns mother, and, from the looks of it, Anuksuns younger
brother. He was a boy on the cusp of manhoodhis dark shoulders were broad and strong, and his face held the
grace and pride of his country.

Ruined, all ruined

Stop it!

Celaena dragged her vision back to the King of Adarlan, and focused on the throne behind him, knowing that his face
would not be a suitable anchor for her mind. He began to speak in his booming voice, his words echoing across the
rectangle.

Out of the twenty women originally chosen, you are the remaining three. In you lies the hope and future of Adarlan;
on you we must depend

The throne, the throne, the throne

An empty throne.

I would like to thank all of you fine ladies for making it this far, and would like to congratulate you for it too He
went on and on about what an honor and privilege it was to be doing this, but Celaena heard none of it. Images were
shooting past her like comets, blazing and bright with all of lifes energy and power.

They were all the sameshe had seen them all beforebut somehow they werent controlling her. She chose to see
them this time; she chose to see them instead of the King of Adarlan, because she could now identify their source.

Him.

Had he not existed, had some merciful god or person slaughtered him in the cradle, none of these images would have
come into existence.

Butchering bastard.

Death danced around her, an endless waltz of pain and misery, and she welcomed it into her heart. She took in all of
the images that had been chasing after her for so longfor she now understood why they had been hounding her so
mercilessly.

Celaena shifted her eyes to the face of the man who had birthed such a wretched world, seeing him with stark clarity.
The wind stopped.

On my life or death, she swore, her fists clenching at her sides, I will kill you one day. Not now, not in a week, or
maybe even a year, but one day you will feel my wrath as I have long felt yours. One day you will understand the
crimes you have committed. One day you will pay. Butchering bastard.

which leads me to wish you all the best of luck, and let me now state for you the rules of this competition.
Celaenas ears picked up the kings voice once more. You will face each other, one on one, with one weapon. The
winner will be the first to get their partner into a position of sure-death, the King of Adarlans eyes suddenly stared
into hers, and she met them with every ounce of hatred in her soul, as he said, no further.

Jodra Nustrom and Lithaen Gordaina: draw your weapons and prepare to fight at the sound of the bell.

Celaena turned her head to see Jodra accept a sword from one of her handmaidens as Kaltain walked off the
rectangle. Weapon? What weapon?
She whipped her head over towards Chaol and Dorian, who had strode forward from where they were standing on the
sidelines. Where was her weapon? Were they going to give one to her? From the look of it, both young men were as
confused as she was.

No one told you to bring your own weapon? Chaol asked quietly, his brows lowered.

In case you didnt remember, she snapped, Im not allowed to have one. This wasnt happening

No one told me he said, clearly puzzled. Dorian, on the other hand, had approached the table and was clearly
giving his father a taste of his opinion. Concern wriggled like a fish in her belly. He shouldnt be doing that to his
father, especially in front of all of those men

The rules were simple, the king boomed above the whispers and the growling of his son. Each contestant was to
bring their own chosen weapon into the matchif you didnt bring one, youll have to face your opponent bare-
handed. The king gave her an oily smile, his eyes gleaming with malice.

Chaol stiffened beside her, and Celaena watched with interest as his right hand flexed and unflexed at his side, edging
towards his sword. Dorian turned on his heel and strode towards them, subtly shaking his head at Chaol. Whatever it
meant, it worked, and Chaol, with a sigh, let his hand hang limply at his side.

Dorian stared at Celaena with a look of apology and shame, his sapphire eyes reflecting the brilliance of the sky
above. Theres nothing that we can do, he said softly, lowering his gaze to the marble floor. You understand what it
would mean if we were togive you our weapons, dont you?

A feeling of bitterness swept through Celaena. Of course, she crooned with sweet venom. He was willing to spend
time with her and treat her as a friend and equal in private, but in public, he balked and cowered before his fathers
judgment. Court-trained puppet.

Well? the king barked. If you dont have a weapon, then just use your handsIm sure that you can manage easily
enough. He grinned at her again, and Celaena felt her temper rising. Bastards. They had planned this. She, good as
she was, couldnt face steel with flesh.

Dorian gave her another sympathetic look and walked back off to the sidelines. Chaol, however, didnt move. Celaena
looked at him, staring deep into his green eyes, and for a moment felt some kind of connection between them. Here
was a young man who had given up the life of the court. Here was a young man who didnt like or appreciate what
kind of world they were stuck in. She had never understood why she had liked Chaols company, but now she was
beginning to

Clear the field, Captain, the king growled. The Lady doesnt have a weapontheres nothing you can do. Now, clear
off.

Chaols hand was twitching again, and Celaena saw why. He was considering giving her his sword, the symbol of his
power. And if he did, it would mean

Get the hell out of here, she hissed at him. I can manage.

Its not fair, he said, his eyes wide with disbelief. I cant believe that they would

Get out before you lose more than your title, she snapped. It wasnt fair, he was right. It wasnt fair at all. She
didnt understand why they would do this, she didnt understand their motives in the least

Youyou know that I didnt know that you had to

I said, the king growled again, get out.

Celaena, I Chaol began. He couldnt do anything to help herthe duel was about to begin and she would face off
against Kaltain and Jodra with her bare handsit wasnt fair

The sound of a chair being pushed back from the table echoed across the floor, and Celaena turned in time to see the
former king of Eyputiusunn rise suddenly from his seat and vault something into the air towards Celaena. She
watched it as it flew towards her, slicing the sun in two as it passed, and she shot up an arm to catch it, her fingers
snatching it from the air. Her hand tightened around the smooth wood and she gave it a few experimental sweeps in
the space around her, Chaol stepping back in surprise. The sound of charms and bones against wood tinkled in the
morning air. Celaena looked at the dark-skinned king and then down at her weapon, relief, sorrow, and pride building
in her chest.

In her hand lay Anuksun Ytgers spear.

She could feel the lingering oil from Anuksuns hands; she could smell her friends scent on the wood. Celaena looked
at the assortment of charms that lay at the tip of the spear, each one a reminder and representative of the great
person that had once held the weapon. Celaena idly fingered a lions tooth that hung from a string of claws, relishing
in the sharpness and strength she found within.

Is this satisfactory? she asked the King of Adarlan, who was busy glaring at the king of Eyputiusunn (who just gave
him a dismissive shrug and sat down again). The king turned hate-filled eyes to her. Very well, he snarled.

Jodra Nustrom stepped closer to Celaena, her broadsword gleaming in the sunshine. It was a large and heavy
weapon, and Celaena looked down doubtfully at her weapon.

Chaol touched her shoulder, his emerald eyes filled with some emotion she couldnt put a finger on.

For remembrance, he whispered so that only she could hear, as a reminder.

Then he strode off of the dueling area, his shoulders back and head held high, ignoring the looks that followed him
from all directions.

The king was beside himself for a moment, furious that four of his subjects would show such open defiance, but then
he quickly raised his hand again, motioning to the page off to the side, and bellowed at the assassin and Jodra:
Begin!

Jodra nodded briskly in the direction of the assassin, and Celaena followed suit. She then steadied herself, wielding
the spear like a sword in front of her and Jodra raised her weapon. Celaena clenched her teeth, preparing to meet the
force of Jodras strength with a defensive maneuver that could easily render the girls powerful blow useless.

Jodra charged at Celaena, faster than the assassin had anticipated, and brought her sword down upon the spear with
staggering force. So strong was the blow that Celaenas hopes for any kind of defensive technique were immediately
squashed when the harsh sound of steel meeting wood sung out. The blade sunk into the spear, jarring Celaena with
the sheer impact of it. Before Celaena could recover, Jodra had pulled away and charged again, and Celaena once
more had only time to block the blow.

Grunting, Celaena pulled away with an effort of skill and force and nimbly swept forward towards Jodra, switching
from defensive to offensive in a matter of seconds and muscles. Jodra parried Celaenas attack with a swift brush of
her mighty blade, moving backwards as Celaena brought the wooden spear down upon the blade again and again,
splinters flying upward in the process.

All that she could hear was the beating of her heart in her ears and the sound of wood against steel. The weight and
feeling of the spear was foreign to Celaenas hands, but she wielded it to the best of her ability.

Faster and faster, stronger and stronger Celaena came at Jodra, her wrists and forearms bestowing blow after blow to
the redhead, who could do nothing more than block the womans assaults.

In a moment of awkward positioning, Jodra rose to meet Celaenas blow, her face as red as her hair. Celaena stared
into the womans doe eyes, noting the beauty, as well as the strength of will that lay beneath, and wished that she
had gotten to know her better.

Youre good, Jodra gasped in between breaths, very good

Celaena smirked, her arms shaking with the force of holding the wooden spear against Jodras blade.

Jodra laughed, which came out as a mere two gasps for breath. But not good enough, I think! she said, and
disengaged, thrusting forward in a burst of speed that sent Celaena back into defensive position.
As much as she liked the womans spirit, Celaena wasnt about to let the womans words or actions get in the way of
victory. However, it seemed that her spear had a different opinion.

She took each of Jodras blows full on, waiting for an opportunity to strike back or riposte, but none came. Each
impact was felt in her bones, and the splintering, cracking wood groaned in protest. Celaena didnt know how to use a
spear in close combat like thisthe spearhead was practically uselessand the assassin was forced to rely on the
strength of the shaft to take and bestow blows. The spear cracked further along the middle as they met again.

Screw technique to hell.

Jodra slammed her sword down upon the spear again, seeing that Celaenas weapon couldnt hold out much longer,
but Celaena was ready. Before Jodra could move again, the assassin shifted her body and flew forward with a sweep
of the spear, flinging every ounce of power and strength into the assault.

In a moment of horror and pain that felt like a lifetime, the spear snapped in two, and the armed end flew across to
the other side of the arena, leaving Celaena with a foot of useless wood. It took a mere breath for Celaena to gasp
and drop to a knee from the pain that burst from her right shoulder as it dislocated and tried to relocate upon impact
with Jodra.

The pain was almost blinding. Jodra paused, allowing Celaena a moment to collect herself. Celaena gasped for
steadying breaths, humiliated, aching, determined to win

Freedom or death.

Celaena took the shaft of broken wood from her useless right hand and held it in her left, unsure of how she would
manage to fight with a hand that she barely used.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Shed find a way.

Celaena rose to her feet and whipped the wooden rod before her like she would a full-length sword. Her shoulder was
throbbing and pain was shooting all over her bodyshe felt so weak

Light or darkness.

Her grip tightened on the remains of the spear.

But no strength could have kept the spear in her hand as Jodra Nustrom, with innate strength and swiftness, swept
her sword across Celaenas outstretched weapon and knocked it away. Celaenas wrist snapped back, and her right
hand instinctively reached across her body to cradle it, her shoulder wailing in protest.

Jodra Nustrom, seeing victory was at hand, raised her sword above her head to bestow the blow that would win her
the duel.

Life. Death. Light. Darkness. Freedom. For remembrance, as a reminder.

Celaenas knees bent and she suddenly raised her face, her eyes wild with defiance. A snarl ripped from her throat as
she prepared to launch forward to take down Jodra, despite her dislocated shoulder and aching body, despite the fact
that it all was over

Jodra leapt forward, her sword singing through the air as it neared Celaenas head

But it never did.

A gust of wind, more mighty than any that had ever come before it, slammed into Jodra Nustrom so hard that the girl
was thrown backwards and onto the ground ten feet away.

The wind howled all around, screaming its rage; and Celaena, her pain consuming her, dropped to her knees,
clutching her shoulder as she felt despair wrap its hand around her heart. She couldnt fight like this
From the far end of the arena, it shot forward like an arrow, spinning towards the assassin, causing all that saw it to
stare in disbelief and fright. Though the wind pushed it, it seemed drawn to Celaena with magnetic forcea life all its
own.

Something inside Celaena awoke in that moment; something that told her what was coming and made her pain
vanish. It neared her, twirling like a deadly compass arrow, and her right hand shot out to the side, grasping its
handle without even needing visual reassurance.

Dorian DeHavilliard stared in open-mouthed shock as the broken end of Anuksun Ytgers spear raced forward towards
Celaena Sardothien. He heard gasps to his right and knew that Anuksuns mother and brother were thinking the same
thing. Dorians hands trembled as the spearhead spun on the floor at blinding speed towards the assassin. Dorian
watched as something shifted in the assassin. She didnt even look at it before her hand whipped out to the side to
grab onto it. It was as if she had become somethingor someone else entirely.

Chaol, he whispered to his companion, his eyes never leaving the sight that unfolded before him, do you believe in
life after death?

Celaena Sardothien slowly rose to her feet, the front half of Anuksuns spear gripped tightly in the right hand that
hung from her limp arm.

She felt something inside of her, a power and a force that took her bruised and battered heart into its hands and gave
it strength and healing. She felt the rich breeze of twenty golden summers spent riding across the great plains of
Eyputiusunn on her face; she felt the warmth of a loving family and country; she felt everything that she had missed
and wanted in her life that her dear friend had had. She took those memories, those tender, gentle feelings into her
heart the way she had taken the bad ones in just minutes ago. She let them become her; she let the strength of her
friend flow through her.

Celaena stood to her full height, her broad shoulders and tall frame becoming as menacing and deadly as any weapon
she could have wielded. The wind, so rough with others, gently caressed her face, and swept her hair out behind her
like a billowing sheet of liquid gold. Her sapphire eyes were filled with a feral gleam that caused all who watched the
duel to catch their breath in their throats. Never had any of them seen such wild, contained beauty, grace, and power.
Never again would they ever see the combined forces of two half-tame spirits inhabiting one body. It was a moment
in which, years later, bards would sing with the full force of their voices and instruments. It was a moment when the
true potential of Celaena Sardothien was realized.

Jodra Nustrom stood up and raised her sword again, hoping to catch her opponent off guard once more.

But Celaena, and whatever force that had taken control of her, was ready.

In the second that Jodra exposed her chest by lifting her weapon high, Celaena struck. The assassin shot forward like
an arrow from the bow of Deaenna herself, almost too fast to watch, and thrust her right arm forward towards Jodras
exposed heart and body.

Before Jodra could understand what had happened, Celaena was pressed up against her, the cool metal of the
spearhead lying against her white throat.

She had won.

Celaena smiled darkly, though panting, and she felt whatever had filled her leave with the wind that had suddenly
vanished. The pain crept back into her body, but she held it at bay long enough to hiss into Jodras ear with sweet
venom, But not good enough, I think

With that, the bell rung, ending the duel. Celaena stepped away from Jodra, and doubled over, trying to catch her
breath and ease the pain in her arm.

She had won. She had won.

Every breath she took in seemed to say it. She was just one step away from freedomone step away from going to
Wendlyn

Dorian rushed over to her and raised a goblet of water to her lips.
Drink this, he said to her. Ill see what I can do about getting your shoulder looked at. He tipped the goblet and
Celaena drank greedily from it, not noticing the water that escaped from both her mouth and the cup and ran down
the sides of her face. She drained the glass in seconds, her throat moistened, and straightened up. Dorian stared at
her for a moment, his eyes filled with both pride and concern.

You, he began, blushing slightly, you were

But before he could finish his compliment, the booming voice of the king drowned out everything. Next!

Celaenas eyes filled with dread and disbelief. She was going to fight now? After she had barely had any rest? Her
shoulder was dislocated, her left hand was aching

Apparently, Dorian DeHavilliard thought the same thing. It took a while for Celaena to realize that the words he was
yelling at his father and the judges were the exact ones that she was thinking.

But, once again, the King of Adarlan would hear none of it. I said next. You will face Kaltain Rompier or you will
forfeit the duel, he growled at Celaena.

Dorian began to object, but Celaena nudged him with her good elbow. Ill be fine, she breathed, feeling the weight
of the spear in her hands. Ill be fine

His eyes flashed. Here, he said, putting a hand on his sword, take it. Use it. II dont care any more. Just take it
and use it.

She shook her head. Its too heavy to use nowII can do just fine with this. She gave him roguish grin, the first
sign of character and affection that he had seen from her in weeks. Besides, Im Adarlans assassin. I could kill her
with a hairpin.

He gave her a weak smile, taking to heart her sudden vivacious behavior, and caressed a lock of her golden hair
between two of his fingers before leaving the fighting rectangle.

Kaltain stepped onto a black square of marble and smiled wickedly at her.

Begin! The king bellowed, and the bell rang.

In a flash and whine of steel being drawn, Kaltain whipped her sword forward and boldly thrust at Celaena. The
assassin, biting down on the pain in her shoulder, shot towards her as well, and she felt dizzying agony at the force of
their weapons colliding and then sliding past each other.

Kaltain stopped a few feet after their initial contact and turned around swiftly, waiting for Celaenas next offense; but
to her delight, she saw the young woman stagger slightly and then turn around to face her slowly. The king had been
right in assuring her that the assassin would be thoroughly worn-down.

Kaltain began her assault, her rapier singing and swinging through the air to be weakly blocked by Adarlans assassin.
This was the bitch that had stood in her way of a crown

Kaltains feet danced on the marble floor and she lunged forward, throwing the strength of her legs into the attack.
Celaena parried, snarling as she riposted, beating back Kaltains blade. The assassin, her heart beginning to pick up
its pace once more and adrenaline overcoming the pain in her body, feinted twice and Kaltain bought it, her sword
swinging wildly to the side, just barely parrying in time to prevent Celaena from making a touch.

Celaena smiled, knowing that she had taken the offensive and possibly victory. However, while the elements had been
kind to her in her last battle, they proved to be against her in this. In a sudden change of angle and direction, Celaena
found herself facing the full-force of the noontime sun. Celaena momentarily blinded, Kaltain swept forward, using the
opportunity to her full advantage, and slammed into the assassin with such force that her blade sunk half an inch into
the wooden spear.

They grappled with each other, Celaena trying to shift so that she could see once more, but Kaltain would have none
of it.
Youre not getting out of this so easily, the raven-haired woman hissed.

The adrenaline in Celaenas system was slowly transforming back into pain and weakness. She couldnt see

You stupid bitch, Kaltain whispered, did you honestly think that he would want you?

Celaena shoved at Kaltain to free her weapon, but the woman held fast, pushing her blade deeper and deeper into the
spear.

The sun

Celaena squinted her eyes, but the sunlight was too strong. Why was everything always against her? It wasnt fair

Say something! Kaltain barked, and before Celaena could react, the woman had raised her free hand and slammed
it into Celaenas face, sending the assassin flying sideways.

It wasnt fair at all.

Celaena turned around as fast as her failing body could handle, but it wasnt fast enough. She met the full force of
Kaltains thrust with her spear; and her hand, weakened and aching, seemed to lose its sense of purpose as it let go
of its only form of defense.

Celaena staggered backwards, wondering why she couldnt fight better than this, not fully understanding that she was
going up against Kaltains ruthless fighting skills with only her bare hands. Her cheek was swelling from where the
woman had hit her, and her shoulder

Freedom, life, escape

She dodged out of Kaltains way, and scrambled to pick up her broken weapon. Kaltain was upon her a second later
like a cat after a mouse, and Celaena had to roll out of the way to avoid Kaltains sword cutting her in two. The
assassin cried out in pain from the force she placed on her shoulder, but then silenced it as she leapt upwards and
back onto her feet. Kaltain wasnt just trying to win, she was trying to kill her.

Celaena lunged at Kaltain in a sudden burst of speed, pain, fear, and reckless determination. And she missed
completely. Kaltain stepped out of the way so fast that Celaena and her spear shot straight into open space, leaving
her back expos

Something slammed into Celaenas back so hard that the assassin fell forward onto her hands and knees, breathless.
The blow rattled her spine, her stomach, her insides

Celaena coughed, trying to get air back into her lungs, but her body, in a confused state of panic, objected. A metallic,
slippery taste filled her mouth. In a nauseated lurch, Celaena Sardothien spat a mouthful of blood onto the white
floor.

Before she could recover, something hurled itself into her ribs, and the assassin slid sideways on the floor, feeling
something crack.

Not like this

In despaired fury, Celaena pulled herself upwards, looking for the weapon that had disappeared from her hand. She
saw itnot five feet awayand then she saw a slippered foot land on top of it and kick it behind. Celaena glared at
Kaltain, her eyes filled with hatred and shame.

She was Adarlans assassin

Fight, damn you, fight! Youve faced worse than this! Your body can recover! Fight! Please! For freedom, for
everything!

She couldnt feel her shoulder any more. She couldnt feel anything.
Not like this, you idiot! Not like this! Not by Kaltains hand!

Celaena took a step forward towards Kaltain, but she suddenly felt her will and body give out. It hurt too much

Kaltain smiled in pleasure.

Do you honestly think that you can beat me in your current state, Lithaen Gordaina? Kaltain flew forward, and
Celaena, in an attempt to dodge Kaltains lethal weapon, slipped in the puddle of her own blood, losing balance.
Kaltain grabbed her opponent by the shoulders, causing Celaena, half-delirious with pain, to cry out. Kaltains
embrace didnt last longonly a secondbefore she hurled the assassin into the hard glass of the nearby window.
Celaena slammed into the window, her right shoulder and arm crunching beneath her. The world blackened for a
moment and then relit itself as the assassin slid to the ground and lay in a crumpled heap.

Or should I call you Celaena Sardothien? Kaltain spat, not caring who heard her.

Celaena took a look at Kaltains face and then lowered her eyes to the ground. The woman was consumed by her own
bloodlust and jealousy. Nothing, not even Celaenas skills could stop that

It was over.

Not like this, please! Fight it; fight her! Youve got to! You cant go backyou cant go back to that endless darkness!

Yes, I can.

No, damn you, you cant! Dont you realize what lies ahead of you?

Nothing. Nothing ever did.

You stupid fool, didnt you listen to Arobynn? He said with your past, you could

Its over.

Celaena looked at the black and white marble. Light and darkness. Life and death. Where do I fit in?

Im sick of you, Kaltain yelled at her, drawing Celaena. Ever since I met you, youve been in my way. You corrupted
everyone you came nearyou stupid assassinthey should have let you die in those mines! Youve nearly ruined
everything Ive worked so hard for!

Kaltain slammed her foot into Celaenas mouth, drawing forth blood. The assassin didnt even feel it. She was drifting
away, accepting everything for what it washer dreams and ambitions giving way for a weakened, dying body.

Youve been in my way from the start, Kaltain repeated, panting in her exhaustion and anger. But no longer. I
know who you are, Celaena, and Im not afraid of you. I wasnt even afraid of you when I thought you were Lithaen
Gordaina! You are nothing in this world! Kaltain was shrieking now, lost to her rage, and she brought her foot down
upon Celaenas left wrist with a crack.

Nothing

Anuksun. Chaol. Dorian.

Nothing

Just a dream

All dead

I should have killed you myself, Kaltain bellowed, her eyes burning with hatred.

Across the open space, the King of Adarlan smiled, pleased with the way things were going.
I should have killed you long ago Kaltain seethed.

All gone

Life, death, light

Darkness. Only darkness

Falling, falling, falling

I should have done it myself instead of hiring that bastard Graev to do it! I should have made sure that he killed
you instead of that disgusting savage! But nownow that will all be corrected! Kaltain cackled with berserker glee.

Something inside Celaena snapped. Days, weeks, years, decades of compressed sorrow and rage and fear burst free.
Kaltain had hired Graev. Kaltain had hired Graev to kill her and he had instead made a mistake and killed Anuksun.
Kaltain had done it. Kaltain

Pain fled from Celaenas body. Kaltain Rompier had done it.

Celaenas head snapped up, her eyes blazing with an inner fire that was entirely her own. She saw Kaltain steady
herself to drive the sword into her heart. She saw Kaltain Rompier, the murderer of her friend.

A cry of rage burst from Celaenas throat that was so inhuman and wild that it froze the blood of everyone within
hearing range. The assassin hurled herself upon Kaltain, ignoring the sword in the womans hand, and wrapped her
arms around the womans middle as she brought them both onto the ground. Kaltain, out of shock and fear, dropped
her sword and began to scream. Celaena straddled the woman, pinning her to the ground, and thudded Kaltains head
against the cold marble floor.

Kaltains screams were fuel to the assassin as she raised a bruised and bleeding fist and pounded it into Kaltains face.
The woman screamed louder, her hands flying upwards to stop Celaena from hitting her. Every skill, every lesson she
had learned as an assassin came back at her with full force.

Celaena broke Kaltains wrists as easily as if they were twigs.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Celaena punched Kaltains face again and again, breaking bones and teeth where she saw fit. In between sobs of pain,
Kaltain was shrieking for help, but none of the men watching dared to move. Who would dare to when Adarlans
assassin had gone beyond the killing-edge and was now assaulting someone in cold-blooded fury?

Celaena grabbed Kaltains bloodied face in one hand and snapped her jawbone in two, not needing more than a breath
to find the pressure points. Kaltains screams were ear-shattering now, and they began to annoy Celaena.

With a snarl, Celaena Sardothien slammed her elbow down onto the center of Kaltains face, feeling the womans nose
crack beneath the hard bone of her joint.

Kaltain stopped screaming, blacking out for a moment from pain, giving Celaena the time she needed to dismount the
woman and grab her by the hair.

A butchered, wrecked corpse. Hair chopped off, eyes gone, heart stolen

Celaena dragged Kaltain by her black hair across the floor to where Kaltains sword lay.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Celaena Sardothien flipped Kaltains sword up into the air with her foot and caught it in her right hand. Kaltain gained
consciousness and screamed in terror as Celaena brought the sword down upon her ebony hair, just barely missing
her scalp. Kaltain fell to the ground with a thud, and Celaena shook off the black hair in her hand in disgust.
Butchering bastard.

Kaltains whimpers filled her ears and the assassin watched in sadistic pleasure as the woman touched her hair-free
scalp with broken hands.

Not broken enough.

Celaena savagely pulled Kaltain upwards, yanking the womans shoulders out of place with the force of it and
snapping four more of her fingers.

Pplease Kaltain stammered, her broken jaw hanging at an odd angle.

Celaena let out a laugh and hurled Kaltain into the glass window, enjoying the bloody imprint that the woman left
behind after she had collapsed to the ground.

Kaltain, barely able to maintain connection in the conscious realm, turned to face Celaena, tears streaming down her
bloody, broken, and bruised face. Celaena looked at her exposed breast and tightened her grip on Kaltains sword.

Graevs heart was not enough.

Kaltain shook her head wordlessly, her eyes wide with terror.

Celaenas legs tensed, and then released, sending her flying forward at the woman, sword reaching for her heart

For remembrance, as a reminder.

But when would the killing end? Where would it stop?

The sword drew nearer to Kaltains heart.

Why did Kaltain deserve this quick end?

Celaena!

The assassin, whether by her own thoughts or by the voice that commanded her, halted her sword an inch from the
womans chest. The reckless anger and hatred was dissolving

Why did Kaltain deserve to suffer for only a few minutes and then die? Why did she deserve anything so quick and
painless?

Celaena Sardothien looked at the shaking, broken woman with hard, cold eyes.

You arent worth the energy that it would take for me to drive this into your heart, she spat at Kaltain, her sword
still held out at the woman. You arent worth anything in this world. I would kill you here and now, but thats not a
judgment for me decide or to deal out.

Celaena stumbled over the words, her emotions beginning to take a hold of her as pain and fear and sorrow returned
to her once more. Ive had my fair share of killing, Kaltain Rompier, and I know that there will now be at least three
people who would like an opportunity to do so. You deserve as much pain as you have birthed into this world,
Kaltain.

Disgusted and repulsed, Celaena threw the womans sword at her feet. Youre pathetic. Youre a monster. I hope you
feel every moment of terror and agony that she felt. I hope you live with the guilt and pain that you deserve to bear.
Celaena paused, her final words to the woman falling like a guillotine. I hope you live a very long life, Kaltain.

And with that, Celaena Sardothien turned from her and walked in the opposite direction, ignoring Duke Perringtonn
and Chaol as they rushed past her, towards Kaltain. She ignored the King of Adarlan, Anuksuns family, the kings
councilmen
It wasnt fair

Celaena made it thirty feet before her legs gave out beneath her. She crawled another five before her feelings
slammed into her mind with full force. But it only took Dorian DeHavilliard two seconds to rush from where he was
standing to where she had collapsed.

Before she knew it, she was crying, crying as hard as she had the day Anuksun had died. If the wounds she bore
didnt tear her in two, her sobs and mental anguish were sure to.

Dorian, not hesitating this time, took her wrecked body into his arms and held her with all the love and strength in his
heart, ignoring her injuries. He buried his face in her hair, stroking her back, trying to make out what she was saying.
He had seen the despair and the pain in her eyes as she had fought with Kaltain, he had seen that all turn into a field
of ice and death when she had turned the tables, and now he saw her transform back into the woman she had been
those few weeks agolost and alone in the world, miserable and hurting.

Celaena couldnt think, she couldnt breathe: all she could do was feel. She felt every ounce of pain she had ever felt
in her life, and she hated it all.

Why, she sobbed into his chest, why is it always killing? Why is it always death and hate and darkness? Why me?
What did I do? What did she do? Why is there so much killing in the world? I cantI just cant do it any more, she
gasped, shaking like a leaf. Dorian kissed her head and held her tighter. I cant keep on killing and dying again and
again and againI just cant

She let out an anguished wail. She didnt even care that she had won the duels. Her freedom was hers

But there was so much death

I thought, she stammered, choking on the words, I thought that if I killed them, the pain would stop. I thought if I
made them suffer like she did, like I did, it would all stop. But it didntand I, oh gods above, please just make it
stop she moaned. I kept you at a distance to keep you safe, I kept you all at bay so that you wouldnt get hurt,
but it just turns out that I was the only one at riskI was the only one who was wanted dead. I should be dead. I
should have died. I should have died instead of her, I should have died seventeen years ago

The rest all came out in a jumble that was incoherent to everyone but Celaena. Those who watched the prince and his
assassin were filled with pity and sorrowto be in such pain would indeed make you a wretched creature like Celaena
Sardothien. To be surrounded by hatred and killing all your life would probably do the same thing to you. Of course,
no one admitted this to anyone but themselves, but it was the first time that any of them had considered Celaena
Sardothien to be a real human being.

But to those who had already known her to be alive to the world of human emotion, it was heartbreaking. She had
been cold and distant to them only to protect them from whatever killer she thought was after Anuksunshe had
thought that if she acted indifferent to all of them, then the person who was trying to get to her wouldnt hurt those
she had come to care about

Lost to bitter tears and gaping, harsh emotions, Celaena Sardothien buried her face in Dorian DeHavilliards warm
chest and wept until both her body and mind gave out to misery, fatigue, and agony.

At the opposite end of the room, Chaol Wydrael was dragging Kaltain Rompier to her feet. Kaltain Rompier, he
growled, handing her over to the captain of the group of royal guard who had arrived, you are hereby under arrest
for the murder of princess Anuksun Ytger. The rest of what he said was all traditional nonsense about her rights, but
the first sentence was all that Dorian and Celaena both needed to hear. Now that Kaltain had openly admitted to the
murder, she couldnt get off of a trial and punishmentespecially when Anuksuns family had heard it. It had been
stupid of the woman to let her rage control her in such a manner that she had lost any restriction on her tongue, but
it had been beneficial.

Kaltain Rompier, half-dead and barely breathing, looked over at the prince and his beloved as she was escorted from
the room, and a wretched sense of truth came over her. The prince had never been protecting herhe hadnt even
tried to save heronly when it had been to save the reputation and fate of his beloved whore had he stepped in to
help. The prince had been protecting Celaena Sardothien this entire timehe had been protecting her from his father
and from everyone else and in the process of doing so, he had come to love her. Celaena Sardothien didnt know that
he did, she didnt even recognize it for what it was. But one day she would
Despair settled in Kaltains heart. The Crown Prince of Adarlan was going to marry someone else.

Her childhood and lifelong dream shattered, Kaltain Rompiers knees gave out from beneath her, and she collapsed to
the floor. It was a matter of seconds before two guards picked her up; and between them, carried her from the
dueling area and down a long set of stairs, headed for the darkness of the prison that awaited her.

CHAPTER 30

ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona ditona

I see no reason why you shouldnt send her, your majesty, the Minister of Trasien said cautiously, his tongue darting
out to wet his dry lips. She has proven herself time and again to be fully capable of handling the task.

The King of Adarlan frowned, his hands clenching the arms of his glass throne. He looked around the circular table of
men who made up his councilministers, advisors, former kings: they were all under his thumb.

But then why was the Minister of Trasien now questioning his rulers motives?

After seeing her emotional escapade last week, I dont think the wench can be trusted to handle such an important
task, the king said, irritated that he had to explain his reasons to the lesser man.

The Minister of Trasien nodded his head respectfully, but his gray eyes sparkled with the passion and fire that was
common in his countrys people. The woman has been coping with an incredible loss, your highnessany person,
even an assassin, would buckle beneath such an emotional burden.

The king looked at his other council members, but none of them showed any sign of response and instead became
immensely interested in the piles of papers in front of them.

She cant be trusted, the King of Adarlan growled.

Your son doesnt seem to think so, the minister replied briskly, but then added in subserviently: your majesty.

The King of Adarlan felt anger heave within his breast. His son

Scheming little bitch.

Your highness, the Minister of Trasien inquired gently, hoping to ease his kings temper to a safe level and then
quickly change the subject, I can honestly see no reason for Celaena Sardothien to not go to Wendlyn. Kaltain
Rompier cannot go, and the other girl, Jodra Nustrom, left as quickly as she could when she found out that it was
Kaltain Rompier who had hired the assassin to kill Princess Anuksun Ytger. The Minister of Trasien ignored the flame-
drenched glare Duke Perringtonn was giving him and continued. Neither girlwell, none of the girls who we brought
to the palace were of the assassinating sort. None save for Celaena Sardothien. We should have hired her immediately
those many months ago without wasting so much time and gold on this ridiculous thing. I suggest that we not waste
any more time and send her as soon as shes fully healed.

Shes a monster, the king snapped.

Then more the reason for her to do a good jobshe wont have any qualms about her assigned task, the minister of
Trasien said quickly, wielding his silver tongue like a weapon. Shell know what to do and how to do itshell be
home within two months. Besides, he said with a twinkle in his eye, should she go, shell be far awayvery far away
so far that her influence might fade from these shores he trailed off, the words he had left unsaid having the
impact upon the king that the minister had hoped they would.

The king looked at the Minister of Trasien suspiciously, but the man held his lords gaze with the steadfast strength
that dwelled within his steel eyes. With a frustrated, angry sigh, the King of Adarlan broke his stare and looked at his
other ministers. Well? he barked at them, his face reddening in anger, causing them to jump in their seats and sit
erect. Do you agree with him?
All but Duke Perringtonn nodded their heads vigorously. The Minister of Finances raised a jewel-encrusted hand and
spoke in a frill-covered voice. I do believe that the minister of Trasien is correct, your highness. There are no others
to whom this task can be trusted and completed with finesse. Celaena Sardothien is our best and only choice.

Several others voiced their agreement, and within two minutes, they were all set on sending Adarlans assassin across
the sea.

The king turned his gaze back to the Minister of Trasien, his eyes filled with mistrust. What was this mans part in
this? What was his interest in Celaena Sardothiens welfare? Surely the man wouldnt be plotting to

Of course not. That was a preposterous idea. But still

Hed still have to keep an extra-close watch on the actions and words of the Minister of Trasien.

Then its decided, said the King of Adarlan, Celaena Sardothien shall go to Wendlyn. He cast an official vote. All
except for Duke Perringtonn agreed to send Celaena Sardothien to the shores of Wendlyn. The king, trusting in their
wisdom, followed the ruling of his council; and sent for a page to inform the assassin of their decision.

After an hour or so more, the King of Adarlan dismissed his council, but held back Duke Perringtonn, waiting until the
Minister of Trasien was long out of earshot.

You and I, my dear duke, the king said with a smile, have quite a lot of planning to do.

Duke Perringtonn twirled an end of his long, sweeping moustache around a fat finger and gave his king a questioning
look, sitting down at the table once more. Yes, your majesty?

The King of Adarlan pulled a piece of parchment from his jacket pocket and looked over the things written down upon
it before looking at the duke once more.

It is time, my old friend, to drop the anchor that will keep our pretty little assassin from drifting out to sea forever

Celaena Sardothien laid on her massive bed, propped up by endless rows of down pillows and enshrouded by heavy,
stuffy blankets. She closed her eyes, half out of fatigue, half out of frustration, and let out a long sigh.

Am I boring you? Dorian DeHavilliard said with a raised eyebrow, looking up from the book that he had been reading
aloud to her.

Celaena opened an eye and motioned for him to continue with her free hand. No, nokeep going, she said
dismissively. She lowered her hand and idly fingered the silk sling that held her right arm. It had been a week since
her duel with Kaltaina week of waiting, recovering, and worrying. When Dorian had told her that his father was
somehow set against her going to Wendlyn, she wasnt surprisedbut it had frightened her nonetheless.

In fact, it had worried her so much that Celaena failed to show any signs of healing in the first four days after the
duels. It had taken Dorian DeHavilliard an hour of questioning and prodding to figure out why her body refused to
heal, and since then he had insisted on keeping her company (when he could) to distract her from the worry that
gnawed at her and made her condition worsen. Despite how much she hated to admit it, in the past three days, the
bruises on her face and body had faded and her body had begun to heal with almost excessive vigor.

Since she couldnt use one of her arms, and occasionally her left hand, and because she had suffered from a bloody,
swollen face, it had made reading almost impossible to do. So, to keep both of them stimulated, Dorian had decided
that reading aloud to her was the best form of entertainment.

It was greatly amusing to hear and see him act out the novel that they were currently readinghe had a distinct voice
for each character and often got so wrapped up in a scene that it was like watching a great play being performed. He
was immensely amusingso amusing, in fact, that Celaena forgot to tell him that after two days of being read to,
she had recovered enough to read on her own.

He would read to her for hours on endpausing every hour or so to get a drink or have a snack or a mealand often,
Celaena fell asleep to the sound of his voice. Hed, of course, wake her up as soon as he realized that the sounds she
was making were snores, irritated that shed fall asleep during such a spectacular performance. Shed yell at him for
disturbing her and hed end up yelling back, getting so wound up that hed have to leave her bedchamber for ten
minutes, have a glass of brandy, and then come back and resume reading once more, pretending nothing had
happened.

In general, her recovery was turning out to be the most luxurious, lazy, pampered, and entertaining time of her life.

Dorian cleared his throat and began again, his eyebrows high on his head. Hamil smiled broadly and let out a laugh
as he took Julienne into his arms and

Wait! Celaena blurted out and her eyes snapped open. Celaena looked at Dorian, her eyes narrowing.

The prince squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, but managed to look at her and ask innocently: Yes?

Celaena gave him a dirty look. Since when is Hamil taking Julienne into his arms?

Dorian looked up at the ceiling. Umyou fell asleep during the part when

Celaena reached for the book with her bruised left hand. Give that to meI dont believe you.

Dorian moved the book out of her reach, twisting in his chair. No! Absolutely not!

You cut out the love scenes, didnt you? she howled at him, trying to raise herself out of bed.

I did no such thing! he insisted, standing up from his chair alongside her bed and edging away from her.

If you had kept them in, you wouldnt being making such a fuss!

I told youyou were asleep.

Youre just being a coward, she snapped, still trying to move to the edge of the bed, but her heavy blankets and
bandaged body were putting up quite a fight.

Theyre just love scenesnothing interesting or

Thats the best part!

Youre deranged. I think Kaltain kicked you one too many times in the

Just let me read it on my own if you wont read it aloud!

This isnt reading material for a lady.

You wretched boy, you and I both know Im no lady! Now, give me the book or Ill

Youll what? You cant even get out of bed without someone helping you up! You cant do anything to me!

Ill tell Chaol that you read Sunsets Passions.

Dorian stopped, his eyes widening and his mouth popping open. You wouldnt dare, he hissed.

I think I would, she sneered. Now, she said with sweet venom, give me that book.

Dorian threw the book at her, purposefully missing, and stalked out of the room, muttering something about getting
another glass of brandy. Celaena picked up the book to the best of her ability and leafed through the pages, skimming
for any words like kiss or love. Soon enough, she had found the climactic love scene, and quickly understood why
Dorian had refrained from reading it aloud.

Imagine thatyoure blushing, Dorian jeered as he walked back into the room and sat down in his chair again. And,
why, Ill be! he said with false surprise and enthusiasm, You can read all by yourself now.
Celaena smiled sweetly at him. Me? Read? Celaena did her best to look like she was having difficulty closing the
book. With an impossibly pathetic and helpless little yelp of pain that was so blatantly uncharacteristic of her, Celaena
knocked the book towards him with a flimsy hand.

Thats pathetic, he groaned, picking up the novel. If you enjoy my reading so much, all you had to do was tell me,
he said with a roguish grin. He leaned forward onto the bed, his sapphire eyes twinkling. Besides, he said, if you
really want, we can always act out the love scenes

Celaena jerked her chin at him and snarled. In your dreams.

Come on, he crooned, picking up the book and opening to the explicit lovemaking scene. This is classic, original
materialsurely you have an appreciation and desire to see it come to lifeJust listen to this brilliance: He kissed her
as if the world around them were coming to a brilliant end, his hands exploring and caressing

Not with you.

To her surprise, Dorian stiffened and leaned back in his chair, a lazy, arrogant look coming into his eyes.

Then with who would you like to enact such a scene? he asked softly.

Celaena snorted. Thats none of your business.

Is it? he asked quietlytoo quietly.

Celaena raised an eyebrow, his sudden shift in mood making her uncomfortable.

Dont be daft, she growled at him. I dont understand why youre getting so pricklyhow many glasses of brandy
have you had? Speaking of brandy, will you get me some?

No, he said bluntly.

Chaol wouldnt let me have any the last time I asked, she said with false disappointment.

Fine, Ill go get you a glass, Dorian snapped, and stood up, leaving the room once more. Celaena smiled to herself.

He returned a moment later, and handed her a half-filled snifter.

So little? she asked with a frown.

Be grateful youre getting any at all, he grumbled.

Celaena stuck out her tongue and looked down at the glass. She had had brandy once in her lifemany years ago,
and she couldnt remember how it had tasted or what it had done to her. It couldnt be that bad, could it?

Celaena raised the glass to her lips, her nose crinkling at the smell, and took a swig.

It felt like drinking sewer acid. It burned and smelled and hurt and

Celaena tried her best not to spit it out, but her pride caved in and she spat what she had in her mouth back into the
glass, bursting into a coughing fit. Water, she wanted water

Dorian was laughing, his head tipped back as her eyes watered and she coughed up her lungs. Waterwater.

..ater.. was all she managed to get out, as she continued to cough and sputter.

To her shock and dismay, he just continued to laugh. Finally, he said to her: For what you said, Im content to let
you suffer. Besides, its your fault for drinking it.
Celaena felt like throwing the mixture of spit and brandy in his face, but her failing strength got the better of her and
she simply glared at him.

She was about to supply him with a witty, rude retort when a page burst through the door, a piece of parchment in
his hands. He looked at the Crown Prince, then at the assassin, and paled slightly, but hurried to the bedside and
cautiously handed Celaena the paper before scurrying out of the room.

Celaena took a look at the seal on the top of the paper and felt her stomach clench. It was the royal emblem of
Adarlan.

Her eyes briefly met those of the prince, and the assassin read what lay on the parchment.

She let out a long hiss through her teeth and then looked at the Crown Prince of Adarlan. Your father, she said
slowly, has decided to let me go to Wendlyn.

Dorians eyes brightened and he leaned forward. The council convinced him then! HeyouCelaena, dont you know
what this means? Gods above, youre free.

Free.

She was free. Shed go to Wendlyn, do the kings dirty work, return to Adarlan and be free to live her own life without
fear of being thrown back into the mines. She could start over and build her life againfar away from Adarlan, far
away from everyone and everything

It was an overwhelming thought. She didnt know what to say. She didnt know how to react. Shed be freefree of
everything. She had received a note a day earlier from the President of the Bank telling her that she had more than
enough money in her bank accounts to pay the sums that she had requested tenfold. She could live off of her fortune
until old age. She wouldnt have to kill; she wouldnt have to do anything

Freedom.

Celaena looked at Dorian DeHavilliard, her eyes moist.

But what would she be leaving behind?

They were silent for a long minuteeach mutely asking the same question of the other.

Her heart was strangely beating much faster than it normally would be. She could hear her blood pounding in her
ears. Would she miss him if she left for good? Would he even miss her?

What does it matter? Hes the Crown Prince of Adarlan. Its not as if we were

It doesnt matter at all.

I need to get out of this castleI need to get out of this country. Thats much more important than a friendship

Isnt it?

His beautiful face was filled with a bittersweet expression that only made him look more attractive.

Who would be there to comfort her when she was lonely or sad? Who would be there to hold her and read aloud to
her when she didnt have the strength to herself? Who would be there at all?

A thought flashed across her mind that shook her so badly that she almost gasped aloud.

It cant be. Its not true.

Its utterly impossible.

Celaena, I have to

Im not feeling well, she cut in sharply. I want to sleep for a while. Thank you for reading to meI greatly
appreciate it.

She turned over on her side, ignoring the burst of pain from her right shoulder as she leaned on it, her back to him.

No, no. Its impossible. He cant thinkthey cant think thatI cant

No, no, no, no, no.

She heard him let out a long sigh before walking to the door and closing it gently behind him.

Celaena stared blankly at the walls of her room, fighting a desperate battle with her own thoughts until sleep
overcame her.

When she awoke, it was to one of her servants gently prodding her awake. She heard the woman telling her
something about a minister, but she was too tired to fully understand the servant until she saw an old man enter the
room.

Celaena sat up in bed, her face a blank mask. Who was this?

The man smiled at Celaena and took a seat in the chair beside her bed. He greatly resembled the president of the
bank in appearance and aura, and there was something vaguely familiar about him

He smiled kindly at her. Forgive me for intruding on your reposehad I known that you were resting, I would have
come at another time, but your handmaiden darted off to wake you faster than even my tongue could halt.

Allow me to introduce myself, Lady. I am the Minister of Trasiena representative of the country that serves in the
kings council.

Where did she know him from? Had she ever

I hope I didnt kill anyone you knew, and if I did, Im sorry, she blurted out, wanting to get the awkward idea out of
the way.

The man chuckled and shook his head. Far from it, Celaena Sardothien. He paused, his eyes filling with an emotion
that she couldnt pinpoint. You never did kill any of us from Trasien, did you? he asked gently.

There was something so familiar about him, something that put her at ease. No, she replied quietly, staring at the
bed, never Trasien.

And for that, we thank you, Lady.

Celaena looked up at him, her eyes suddenly full of suspicion. Who are you? she asked, her eyes narrowing. Where
did she know him from? It was almost maddening.

The man was silent for a moment, but then finally spoke. My name is Tiryn Doval. I used to be an advisor and friend
to the old king of Trasienbefore Adarlan took over. I knew Trasiens king and his family quite wellbefore they met
their untimely deaths.

Celaena stared back down at the bed, her face neutral.

I came by to make sure that you received your message from our almighty ruler, he offered. I know that its
bizarre for a stranger to visit your bedside, but I felt obligated to make sure you were still breathing and had received
the good news. I understand that should you return from Wendlyn victorious, youll be granted your freedom. I
congratulate youyou have earned it more than anyone I can think of. You were fabulous in the duels a week agoI
was impressed by your skill and determination. It has been a long time since I have seen that kind of fightingalmost
eighteen years in fact.
Celaena dully nodded in response, pushing back old memories. She knew what he was hinting at and she chose to
play dumb.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, his expression becoming serious and deadly. But the longer you stay here, the
more danger you put yourself in, Lady. You must leave soonbefore its too late again. Before he finally catches
you

She didnt reply. She didnt want to acknowledge that fear that had always dwelled within the core of her heart. She
didnt want him to say any more. Who was he to come and stir things up like this?

Celaena, with your past you could

I know what I could do. And I wouldnt do it. It wouldnt work. Not now, not ever.

But if they just knew

She stared at the bed blankly, her final conversation with Arobynn Hamel repeating through her mind again and
again. An ache began to build within her chesta feeling of guilt and sorrow and fear. She couldnt deal with this
nownot when she was so close to escaping

The Minister of Trasien sat there for a moment longer before standing up again.

But, as he turned to leave, she spoke, breaking past a barrier of fear and memories. There was a question she needed
answered. Her thoughts were clouded with many concerns and unanswered questions already, so why not try to
reduce iteven if it was only by one?

Celaena Sardothien stared at the never-ending pattern on her bedspread, her voice seeming to come from far away,
from a deep chamber of her heart. If you loyally served the real royal family of Trasien, why are you here now?

She still didnt look at him. She didnt dare.

She could feel his gray eyes upon her, but she kept on staring at the bed, afraid to see his face.

For the same reasons you are, he said quietly, and then left the room.

With empty eyes, she turned her head and stared in the direction that he had gone, her mind working furiously. How
much did he know? How could he know?

It was a long time before Celaena Sardothien slipped into an uneasy sleep.

CHAPTER 31

Celaena Sardothien swam the length of her bathing pool, pulling hard with her right arm to ease out the tense
muscles in her shoulder. She relished in the smooth feel of the water against her bare skinloved the way she felt
weightless and sleek and unconstrained.

It had been three weeks since the duels, and she had recovered wonderfully. The pain of her dislocated shoulder was
now but a bad memory and an irritatingly stiff joint. She swam every day to loosen up her muscles and to keep in
shape.

It had taken her two days after her encounter with the Minister of Trasien to get herself out of bed and moving again.
Since her legs had felt alarmingly weak and useless, every morning she walked the palace grounds with Fleetfoot at
her side, sprinting when a wild spirit entered her; but she mostly took to idly strolling and throwing sticks for her
canine companion to fetch.

Celaena had a basic routine that she took comfort and strength in. After her morning walk, shed drop Fleetfoot off in
the kennels, and then head upstairs to have breakfast. Following that, shed either read or visit with Anuksuns
parents and brother for a few hours until lunch. Once her noontime meal was finished, shed meet with the King of
Adarlans council or Madam Tulrouse for last-minute training and plans for her voyage to Wendlyn. It was only after
this that Celaena could find the peace of mind and energy to swim for an hour or so in her thirty-foot bathing pool.
She was swimming awfully late for her normal routineshe had been so busy with the council that she had only
arrived in her rooms at sunset. Her boat was scheduled to leave in two days. Just two days.

Celaena was nervousnervous about many thingsand swimming was a way to keep her mind off of those things.

Unfortunately, it was not proving to be a good distraction tonight.

She reached the end of the pool and flipped around, swimming hard in the other direction.

Ill be leaving them all in two days.

Just forty-eight hours until escapeescape from this country, escape from its king, escape from everything that
constrains me.

Celaena hit the other end and turned back in the direction that she had come.

I can leave themI can leave them all behind.

Arobynn, the king, Adarlan, Chaol, Dorian

Dont think about him.

Dorian DeHavilliard, though their conversation had become increasingly tense, kept in constant contact with her. Hed
visit her after dinner or during breakfast, or in any moment he could spare from his duties and obligations. Of course,
he didnt read aloud to her any more, but to replace it, he had insisted on dragging her into the game room for hours
of pool. Even in the months that she had been in Renaril, the assassin still could barely pocket a balllet alone hit the
cue ball.

Celaena smiled as she took a breath of air.

She always had a good time with the Crown Prince of Adarlan.

No, stop it.

Celaena stroked so hardly with her right arm that a shock of pain went through her. Gritting her teeth, she sought to
ignore the thoughts that were entering her head, but failed to do so and instead fought them with others.

Chaol. She had barely seen anything of Chaol since the duelsthe Captain of the Guard was overwhelmed with work
concerning Kaltain and her scheming plots. He had rarely came to visit herbut when he did, it was with surprising
good cheer.

Who will you miss more?

Neither. Im not going to miss either of them.

Dont be daft. Youre going to miss the Crown Pr

Breathe in. Breathe out. Water. Air. Need air.

Celaena was swimming so hard that she found herself gasping for breath with a raspy throat, breathing every other
stroke.

Faster, faster

Do you remember when he checked to make sure your ribs werent broken? Do you remember the way his hands felt
on your body?

Breathe, just breathe.

Escape

You liked ityou wanted more.

Just the body. More air

Hes beautiful, hes smart, and he cares about you. What more could you desire?

It frustrated the assassin that the opposite wall of the pool approached her so quicklyshe could barely get three
strokes in before she had to turn around again.

You know he careshe cares too much. Remember what he saidremember what he said after Anuksun died? You
dont belong in this worldyou, you and I, we belong somewhere else! He would have said it then. If you hadnt been
so stupid, he would have told you then and there.

No.

You knew then. You knew and you threw him in the dust because you were scared and angryjust like you are now.

Its not true.

You wouldnt have turned away so many times if you knew it wasnt. You know ityou damn well know it. And it
terrifies you.

No.

Yes, you idiot! It scares you because youre afraid you might feel the same thing for him. It scares you because you
know what it will meanto you, to him, to the world.

II wont believe it.

Hes done everything in his power to keep you alive and still you doubt how he feels?

Its not true.

It is true, damn you! Youve known it foreveryou just kept on pushing it away. You push it away like you push
everything away. You pushed away your past, and now youre pushing away your future.

No. It cant be.

But youre getting this one chance nowyoure getting one chance to take everything back that youve thrown away.
All that you have to do is show him. You know it.

Its not true.

What cant you understand? What cant you believe? Are you that inhuman to comprehend it? Or are you a coward?
Will you run from your future like you ran from your past?

I cant let this happen.

He loves you, Celaena.

No.

How can you say that when everything hes done for youevery action, every word tells you that its true? He loves
you, not anyone else.

Breathejust breathe
Dont run from him like you ran before. Youre tired, Celaena. Youre tired of fighting and killing and everything evil
and wrong with this world. Do you really think that by going to Wendlyn youll escape all of that? Do you think youll
be any better off if you escape? Youll be leaving behind the person whos offering you a chance to stop running. He
can stop everythinghe can end it. He can save you.

He doesnt love me. I dont love him. End of story.

Its just the beginning.

Go away!

Wake up, Celaena! Wake up and find yourself before you lose everything once more.

I said go!

Open your eyes before its too late

STOP DECEIVING ME.

Stop deceiving yourself.

GO AWAY!

Celaena stopped swimming, dropping below the surface of the water, and screamed in frustration, despair, rage, and
self-hatred. She screamed until the air bubbles stopped coming from her throat and she had to break the surface of
the water to get some oxygen into her lungs.

Youre in l

Celaena submerged herself and screamed beneath the water once more, clawing at her arms and body with her long
nails in an effort to drive the small voice in her mind away. After a while, it stopped talking to her. After a while, she
found her mind in the eye of a storm. She stood up from the water, swam the few strokes to the edge of the pool, and
hurled herself onto the cold stone floor, panting. Her muscles were sore, but her body felt relaxed and lazy. Standing
up shakily, Celaena wrapped herself in a thin silk bathrobe and dried her dripping hair with a towel.

She left her bathing chamber and entered her sitting room, grateful for the roaring fire that Farana had gotten going
in the massive fireplace. She called once for Fleetfoot, but the dog didnt come. Assuming that her hound was not yet
back from her day in the kennels, Celaena sat down in the large armchair before the fire, warming her body. Even
after doing such rigorous physical exercise, she found the room to be slightly chilly.

Celaena stared at the leaping flames in the fire, watching them dance and melt with one another in a feral celebration.
The heat from the fire slightly stung her face, but she enjoyed itshe basked in the burning colors as she had basked
in the calm of the water.

He couldnt love her.

It was impossible.

He doesnt think that I love him, does he? He cant. I havent given him any sign of it . And besides, I dont love him.
Hes the Crown Prince of Adarlan. Im Adarlans assassin. Thats like mixing apples with orangesyou simple cant do
it.

But what if he thinks that I love himeven though I dont? What if he does something foolish like try to kiss me or
propose or

He wouldnt think that Im in love with him. Hes not that stupid.

Because Im not in love with him. I care about him, but I dont love him.
The flames in the fireplace burned brighter and more strongly, exploding upwards and entirely consuming the pile of
logs.

Butwhat if he thinks that I love him? What if other people think that I love him? How can I prove that I dont?

Its so awfulhow could I possibly have let this go on?

She sat like thatbrooding while her hair and body dried in the heat of the firefor the better part of an hour. She
had to find a way to convince everyone that she didnt love the Crown Princethey shouldnt even be suspecting that
she did. Because she didnt.

Thankfully, the Crown Prince of Adarlan didnt show up that evening. Instead, his best friend did.

Celaena Sardothien looked over once to see Chaol Wydrael standing in the doorway of the room, and then continued
to plot. She had to find a way to convince everyone. She just had to.

Youre looking awfully pensive, he said, leaning against a table. Celaena barely heard him.

How can I possibly prove to Dorian that I dont love him? How can I prove to anyone that I dont love him?

Her blue eyes flicked towards him and then flicked back to the fire.

He doesnt think that I love Dorian, does he? Chaol would know better than to think that

Almost in response to her thoughts, Chaol said with a mischievous grin: Get into a fight with your beloved prince, did
you?

Celaena stood up so fast that it hurt. She did not love him. She couldnt love the Crown Prince. They were all idiots for
thinking that she did.

Shed prove that she didnt. Shed prove it to the prince, to Chaol, to anyone who thought she loved Dorian
DeHavilliard.

I dont love him. I dont feel anything towards him but companionship.

Chaol raised his brows high on his forehead and crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

Bastard. Ill show you.

Celaena strode towards Chaol so swiftly that he barely had time to blink before she was before him.

I dont love him.

Grabbing Chaol Wydrael by the shoulders, Celaena Sardothien violently pulled him forward and kissed him.

Chaol Wydrael didnt know how to react except to shove her away. Had she lost her mind? She was kissing him. She,
Adarlans assassin. It waswas it wrong?

He stared at her, stared at the determination and fire he saw within her sapphire eyes, and couldnt believe what he
was seeing. Was she actually serious? Didnt she care for Dorian, if not love him?

Maybe she was drunk. Maybe she had just gone insane.

What the hell do you think youre doing? he asked her, his eyes still wide with shock.

Her only reply was to come at him again, her lips mashing into his.

Everything seemed to pause for a moment as a stream of thoughts entered and left his mind in less than a second.
She was either insane or had finally come to terms with some emotion and desire that she felt for him that she had
kept secret from everyone. Perhaps, because she was due to leave in two days, she figured that now was as good a
time as any to come forward

He was going to miss her. Hed miss her dry humor, her smile, her sparkling eyes, the way her face made all of those
funny expressions when she was reading to herself

Chaol didnt even know if shed come back from Wendlyn alive. She could very easily fall into a trap and be caught
and executed. This could be the last time hed ever see her like thisalive and well (for the most part). She meant
something to himthough not what he believed she meant to the Crown Prince. She was a frienda very beautiful
friend.

Chaol was suddenly aware of the very thing, very revealing bathrobe that she was wearing. He knew that lay
beneath

No, no. Shes Adarlans assassin. Keep it distant, keep it blunt.

But hadnt he been willing to put all that aside three weeks ago at the duels?

There was much left unspoken between themmost of it aggression and hard feelings left ignored. It was these
feelings that made them argue so often to the point where he felt like hitting herand she him. Chaol, as
inexperienced with women as he was, knew that there were two ways to relieve that tension: violence andwell, the
other option.

She would be leavinghe might not ever see her again. Hed rather do this than fight her. If this was how she wanted
to cope with the unspoken physical tension between them, it wasit was fine. She was beautiful and smart and
everything he wanted in a woman. But she was Adarlans assassin. No romantic relationship he could have with her
could be long lasting. It was impossible.

But, for the sake of friendship (and his life), he could do this. If she really wanted this, he could do this.

She was so beautifulher body was slender and softHe could feel the smooth silk of her thin bathrobe against his
skin

All of those thoughts rushed to Chaols mind as soon as Celaena kissed him, and it only took a heartbeat for him to
make his decision. He was, after all, a male.

He pushed her back, staring at her for a moment. So beautiful

He felt heat rising to his face as he took in all of her beauty: physical and spiritual.

He didnt want her to leave.

A feral snarl ripped from his throat and he roughly pinned her against the wall, holding her by the wrists as he kissed
her passionately.

Her body tensed, in fear or excitement he didnt know, but she was kissing him as furiously as he was kissing her.

The feel of her lips

So soft, so warming

He suddenly couldnt get enough of her. He couldnt hold himself backhe wanted her all for his own. He had met her
firstshe was his.

Her wrists broke free of his hands and she grabbed onto the back of his neck, pulling them closer.

Shes Adarlans assassin you fool!

He didnt care.

Chaol wrapped his arms around her slender body, feeling her curves and the silk of her robe, wishing that it would get
out of the way

She smelled so good

He broke away from her mouth and buried his face in her neck, kissing her smooth skin.

It had been so long

He kissed the place where her shoulder and neck met, kissing hard enough to leave a mark. Good. He wanted to
cover her in markshe wanted everyone to see that she was his.

Moving away from the wall, he guided them towards her bedchamber, not caring if anyone saw them. His hands
explored and his mouth roamed all over her neck and face.

All his

Every part of his body seemed to be aching with desire. He didnt know when they entered her bedroom, but it didnt
matter. All that he wanted was to feel and hold her and make her his ownhe needed to. She was so warm and soft
and beautiful

Her bathrobe slid from her body and rippled upon the floor in a white heap. His hands caressed and stroked her body
with a need all their own; and Chaol kissed her deeply once more. She ran her hands through his brown hair,
submitting to her own desires.

He didnt want her to leave She was his So warm and soft Chaol kissed herand kept on kissing her until the
world around them spun wildly and turned red and black and white, and they were utterly lost to their passions.

Chaol Wydrael opened his eyes to the yellow light of the early morning and almost jumped into the air when he
realized where he was and whom he was holding in his arms.

They had

Chaol took a deep, steadying breath. Taking a look at the young woman, he was relieved to discover that she was still
asleepher face peaceful and calm. It had been a while since he had allowed for his passions to control him like that
a very long time.

And apparently, he thought with a wry smile, it had been a very long time since she had as well.

He hadnt anticipated going so far as spending the night in her bed, but once his body had awakened to its needs and
senses, he had lost all will to maintain some kind of reasoning about why he shouldnt have slept with her.

He had been with two or three women in the pastbut he never remembered enjoying it quite as much as he had last
night. He normally surrounded himself with work and his obligations as the Captain of the Guard, putting women and
the wants of his body far down on his list of priorities. But here was a woman who he interacted with every dayhere
was a woman who had managed to slip around that barrier of duty and flash her pretty smile at him.

He ran a hand down one of her smooth, ivory arms. He didnt love her, but he cared for her. There was a difference
a big difference. In a rare moment of clear understanding, Chaol looked at her face, and knew that she didnt love him
either. Sex without love was certainly acceptable to Chaol Wydrael, but when it was used as a form of denial and
proof against your feelings

Chaol shook his head and snorted. She was an idiot for thinking that by sleeping with him, shed forget all about
Dorian DeHavilliard. She was an idiot for assuming that if Dorian heard about this, hed halt his advances and leave
her alone. Chaol smiled. If Dorian heard about this, hed just push harder to win her over. Or hed kill them.
What would the Crown Prince do when he found out? It was fortunate that Dorian had had to meet with his fathers
council last night. If the prince had walked in on them Chaols gut tightened just thinking about it. What if the king
found out? He felt like vomiting.

Celaena made a soft noise and unconsciously caressed his smooth, muscular chest with her fingers before slipping
into deep sleep once more. For some reason, this eased the nervous feeling in Chaols gut and made him relax.

It was so hard to believe that this beautiful, sensual woman was Adarlans assassin. If she had been anything but
anything but one of his kings greatest enemieshe probably would have loved her and wanted her for a wife. Chaol
stared at the few white lines that remained on her back, reminders of what she had been.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

There were so many meanings to those five words.

Chaol covered up the lines with his free hand. He didnt need to think about those right now.

She was leaving tomorrow. Hed miss her company; hed miss their conversations and everything about her. But at
least shed be getting out of the palace. As much as Chaol cared for Celaena, he loved his country more.

Out of sight, out of mind, Chaol hoped. Dorian DeHavilliard, once the assassin was gone, would hopefully return to the
semi-submissive state that he normally had around his father, and Chaol could begin to repair the damage that his
friend had done to made the king begin to suspect and fear his son.

Chaol lifted his hand from her back and looked at the thin white lines.

Last night he had slept with Death herselfand he had enjoyed it. He didnt regret it because he knew that whatever
tension they had had between them these past few months was now gone, but he was slightly afraid of the
consequences.

With a sigh, Chaol closed his eyes and slipped into the land of the half-awake.

Celaena Sardothien slowly drifted awake; the first sense that returned to her was the sound of a constant, strong
heartbeat. She then felt smooth, soft skin, and then hard, well-toned muscles that held her. She smelled the nostalgic
scent of a sleeping bodyyoung and fresh like dew lazily covering a meadow. Her lips gently kissed the flesh on which
her head was resting and she tasted the remnants of sweatsalty and sweet at the same time. It was only after she
had blindly identified the person in her bed that Celaena opened her eyes and saw Chaol Wydrael sleeping, his brown
hair plastered to his head and his tan skin still slightly gleaming with sweat. He had a handsome face, but in
comparison to Dorian, he was

Who was she to be comparing him to Dorian? Chaol had just given her his body for the night; she could at least have
the consideration and respect not to bring another man into her mind

But hadnt she initiated this whole thing by the thought of another man? Hadnt she kissed Chaol because she wanted
to prove to herself that she didnt love Dorian DeHavilliard?

Had it worked?

Celaena looked at Chaol Wydraelyoung and strong and filled with life and power. She caressed the rippling muscles
of his stomach with one of her hands, admiring his firm, fit body. How many women would kill to be in her place right
now? How many court women had batted their eyelashes at him only to sleep in an empty bed at night? How many of
them craved him and wanted him for perhaps more than a lover?

She had used Chaolthere was no doubt in her mind about it. She felt guiltybut she did not regret it. A feeling of
female territorial pride came over her, and Celaena smiled to herself as she moved her hand to stroke his muscular
arms. She had spent the night with Chaol Wydraelone of the most desired and unattainable males in the castle. Her
charm and beauty had surpassed everyone elses and she had seduced him into

When youre done admiring, a good morning would be nice.

She blushed madly as she turned her eyes to stare into Chaols emerald ones. How long had he been awake? Had he
even been asleep? Staring into his eyes, she blushed even deeper as she remembered their encounter last night. It
had been a long time since she had been in bed with a manshe had forgotten how it could be so pleasurable that it
could almost be considered painful. She remembered his hands, his mouth, the way his muscles had flexed and
relaxed

Her face was slowly turning to ash.

Good morning, she muttered, and turned her face away from him, resting it on his chest once more.

Did you sleep well? he asked.

Despite how her face burned as she said it, Celaena managed to give him a retort. From the way I was moaning last
night, Im surprised you even asked.

Ill take that as a yes, he said dryly.

They were silent for a few minutes, and Celaena watched particles of dust dance in the rays of sunshine that streamed
into her room from between her drawn curtains.

He ran a hand down her bare back, affectionate, but not seducing. Celaena, I think you should know that he
paused, and she waited, watching the dust float around lazily. About how I feel he tried again.

He didnt love her, did he? No, not Chaol. Still, Celaena had a bad feeling in her gut.

You see, he stammered, still unsure of how to say whatever he was trying to say. II care about you. I dont

Love me, she finished for him, relief in her voice. Good. I feel the same way. I care about you, but I dont love you.
Youre a friend and I like being around you, but I dont want to marry you.

Yes, he agreed. Thats exactly how I feel.

They were quiet once more. She was immensely relieved that he didnt love her, but then why had he slept with her?
Just because his body had responded to hers?

Chaol, she asked quietly, if you just care about me, then why did you she trailed off, unable to voice the last
few words.

Her head and upper body were lifted into the air and back down again as he took a deep breath. Because, he said
with a smile in his voice, Im male, despite what you may say or think about how much duty and honor mean to me.
Besides, you can be very attractive when youre desperately trying to prove something.

Since when had Chaol been able to see through her? Celaena lifted her head up and rested her chin on his chest,
staring directly in his face. I dont know what youre talking about, she said.

He laughed and ran a hand through her blond hair. You and I both know why you kissed me.

Celaena lifted her chin and laid her cheek against his chest once again, gazing at the large bed.

Celaena he said warningly.

Celaena stared at the never-ending lines that made up the pattern of her bed. Was there any break in them at all?
Wasnt there any way to get free?

He loves you, Celaena.

It hit her like a thousand knives, but somehow it didnt give her any pain. I know, she said softly, closing her eyes.
I know.
He didnt ask her the follow-up question. Both of them knew that she couldnt answer it.

What do you think hell do when he finds out? she asked quietly.

Were not going to tell him, Chaol said bluntly. Theres no need for it. This was between you and Iregardless of
your motivesand I plan on keeping it that way.

She nuzzled his chest, smelling his lovely scent. You really only did it because you found me irresistibly attractive?

He laughed again. Also because if we hadnt done it, we would have ended up taking it out in some other form
probably a fight that would have resulted in at least one death.

Ah, she said with a smile. So instead of killing me, you slept with me? Bizarre, but sound reasoning. From a
physical perspective it certainly makes sense.

Come to think of it, she did feel a kind of ease between them now. It was soothing, and she liked it. So what if her
motives had failed? If Chaol knew that Dorian DeHavilliard loved her, then others probably did as welland they all
probably assumed that she loved him in return.

Which she didnt.

But that was beside the point right now. She and Chaol had come to terms and released a tension that had been
building from the beginning. It was comforting to know that at least one person would be on common ground with her
when she left Adarlan tomorrow.

Just one more day

For all she knew, she could die in Wendlyn. She could mess up and get caught and be executed

Would she want to go away to an uncertain fate on such terms with Dorian DeHavilliard?

Chaol, she said, staring at the stone walls of her room. If I dont return to Adarlanif I fail

I dont think Dorian will let the king harm you if you fail.

Im talking about dying, Chaol.

He was silent for a moment before he said: Youre not going to die.

Why? She asked, lifting her head to look at him. His eyes were upon the stone walls as well.

Because, he said, you have much left undone in this country.

He didnt knowhe couldnt know!

What do you mean? she asked blandly, keeping her face blank.

In the next twenty-four hours, I dont think that any life-altering confessions are going to be made between you and
him.

Why? she asked, genuinely curious and relieved that his words had meant something else.

Because hes as scared as you are, stupid.

What?

Chaol grinned and raked a hand through his short brown hair. Do you think that just because he sleeps around, this
kind of thing wont scare him? Do you think hes ever loved anyone before? Think about who you are and who he is.
Hes terrified of what it might mean to the rest of the world if he were to do something about his feelings; hes afraid
of what you might do if he does something.

You certainly seem to know a lot about this, she said dryly.

I understand him. He hasnt told me, but I know. Ive seen him with other womenIve seen him with many people
and never before have I seen him act as selfless and caring as he is with you.

She could accept that Dorian DeHavilliard loved her. She could deal with thatbecause she was leaving.

But if she

No, I dont love him.

So, you think that Im not going to die because theres some kind of confession that needs to be made between him
and I?

Chaol stroked her cheek with a finger. Much more than a confession, Sardothien. Im talking about a lifetime.

Marriage? Her mind almost imploded upon the thought.

IHe she sputtered, sitting up, not caring that she was nude.

Chaol shook his head and pulled her back down, pressing her against him. Ill let you go off to Wendlyn denying your
own feelings, but Ill be damned if I let you go believing that Dorian DeHavilliard isnt going to marry you when you
return.

Im not the marrying type, she snapped defensively, despite her wheeling mind.

Well see about that, Chaol said condescendingly.

His father wouldnt allow it.

I think, Chaol said with a touch of bitterness, that Dorian is beyond the point of giving a damn what his father
allows him to do or not do.

I cant be queen.

You cant or you wont?

Both, she barked, sitting up again and glaring at him.

Why on earth not? Isnt that every womans desire? A tiara and a throne and a handsome prince?

I dont want to be queen of this country.

Then pick one. Pick any country. Weve probably conquered it and have it under control. His emerald eyes sparkled.

Celaena looked away, frustrated. He was right. Every country, save for Wendlyn and the few countries across the sea
that bordered it, was Adarlans. I dont want to be queen at all, she said softly. Of any country.

Then what do you want? he asked as quietly as she.

Celaena shook her head, closing her eyes. I dont know any more, she said. I just dont know

He sat up and hugged her from behind, kissing her neck. Dont dwell on it too much, he said gently. If you try to
apply logic to your feelings and instincts, it will only confuse and hurt you more. Theres a reason why your mind and
heart are separatekeep them that way, Sardothien. Keep your intelligence in your head and your emotions in your
heart and just remember to breatheJust breathe, Celaena.
Calmed and moved by his words, Celaena opened her eyes and caressed his cheek with her fingers. Youll make one
woman very happy one day, Chaol. I hope Ill be around to see it.

He kissed her neck again. Dont worry, he murmured onto her skin, you will be.

CHAPTER 32

The King of Adarlan smiled. How convenient that Chaol had chosen now to submit to the lusts of his body.

Duke Perringtonn twirled one end of his moustache. With all due respect, your excellency, do you think that both the
assassin and your son will buy it?

Theyll have to buy it, the king growled deeply. Because either way, Ill cut the boys throat if she doesnt return.

Hes Captain of the Guard thoughhow would it look if you suddenly slew him, your highness? It would reflect badly
on your image

I wont be the one to kill him, Perringtonn. There are plenty of other assassins out there looking for a well-paying
job. And if we cant find one, which I highly doubt will happen, I believe that not even Chaol Wydrael will notice a vial
of poison slipped into his drink.

How can you be sure of the bitchs affections though, your majesty? Celaena Sardothien is a crafty wenchshe could
easily be using him for her own purposes.

The King of Adarlan laughed. As my son pointed out to me the other day, she may be an assassin, but shes still
human. Shes attached to both my son and the Captain of the Guard.

But

Chaol Wydrael spent the night in her bedroom two nights ago.

Perringtonns eyes widened, but he calmed himself quickly. That whore seduced him?

Hes a maleshes an attractive womanof course hed succumb to his bodys wants.

But your son

Knows nothing of it. Nor will he know anything of this, is that understood? the king commanded.

Perringtonn nodded his head submissively.

There was a knock on the door and a sentry walked in. Celaena Sardothien is here to see you, my Lord, he said. The
king nodded and motioned for him to bring her forward. The guard beckoned behind him and in walked the assassin,
her golden hair shimmering in the bright light of the chamber.

A feeling of repulsion swept through him. This was the first time he had actually had a meeting with her without his
council present. She was a monsterand she disgusted him.

The guard closed the door behind him and stared forward, his face blank and ears closed. Better safe than sorry.

The assassin approached his throne, gave him a very stiff bow (for she was wearing pants) and stood before him, her
hands clasped behind her back, ignoring Duke Perringtonn. Who was she to wear mens clothing, though fashioned for
a woman, in his presence? Who was she to stand in such an informal, condescending manner? Disgusting demon from
hell.

Your boat leaves in two hoursis everything ready? he snarled at her, his lips curling in revulsion.

Yes, she said bluntly, but quickly added in: your majesty.
He gave her a long, cold look. He saw some sort of emotion pass over her facefear, he hopedbut then she quickly
hid it behind a cool mask of indifference. He wanted to strangle her.

You understand that once you transfer boats, you are completely beyond our aid, correct?

Yes, your majesty.

Wendlyns Great Celebration as they call it is only four months from now. That gives you plenty of time to get there,
disguise yourself, and find a suitable place where you can secretly hear of the goings-on in the kingdom. Since
refugees are not allowed to carry more than ten gold pieces on them, I wont be paying for your food and board. That
means that youll have to work to stay alive there, assassin.

I know, she said with a bored tone that made him grate his teeth, Your council already told me that working as a
servant would be the most beneficial way to gain information and remain hidden. Pause. Your majesty.

The king sneered at her, feeling his temper boiling. Its about time you found a profession that suits you.

She said nothing, but he could see the anger flashing in her eyes. All she had to do was show any sign of physical
aggressionjust one sign and hed hang her.

Before or during the Great Celebration in Wendlyn, you are to retrieve Wendlyns defensive plans on paperand
fully exterminate their king. If you have time, kill his bastard son as well. The boy isnt much of a problemhe can be
easily conquered once his father is six feet below.

She stiffened, but said nothing.

Understood? he barked.

Perfectly, she said calmly.

Perfectly, your majesty! he bellowed at her.

Perfectly, your majesty, she repeated with sweet venom.

The king stood up, almost bursting with hatred for the young woman, and stepped down from the dais on which his
throne sat. He got within six inches of her before he stopped, intimidating her with his size. His cold, hard eyes stared
down into her bright sapphire ones. Now understand this, assassin. Should you fail to return, should you forget to
return, you will pay dearly.

She raised her eyebrows. If Im far away from your clutches, whos to say that you can harm me?

A shiver of pleasure ran down his body. It was time to bind her in shackles once more.

If you dont return within five months, Celaena Sardothien, Ill have Chaol Wydrael killed.

She paled then, her mask fading into open shock and fear. YouHow could you do that? Hes your Captain of the
Guard!

Hes easily replaceable. I have no use for a Captain of the Guard who sleeps with criminals anyway.

Her disbelief and hatred fueled him. If you do not return within six months, Ill execute Paulehmen Ytger, brother to
the princess. Seven months, Ill kill the former queen of Eyputiusunn. Eight months, Ill bury her husband beside her.
He smiled wickedly at her, his eyes gleaming with malice. You get the picture, dont you?

She clenched her teeth and bit back on a snarl that was trying to break free of her throat. Of course, your majesty.
Ill have Wendlyn on a silver platter for you in no time at all.

Her impertinence made him seethe with rage. He wanted to pound her pretty face into a bloody pulphe wanted to
break every bone in her body. But she was his only chance at securing Wendlyn. Stupid bitch.
Get out, he hissed at her, slowly stepping backwards up to his throne, never once taking his eyes away from hers.
Just one sign of aggression

Before Celaena Sardothien could do anything that would seal her doom, the sentry came forward and escorted her
from the room. The King of Adarlan watched as she left and then turned his attention to Duke Perringtonn.

Shell return, he said smugly, his anger fading. Shell return.

Duke Perringtonn frowned. But what then, your majesty?

The King of Adarlan smiled and sat back down on his throne, the glass creaking beneath him. Ill hang her, he said,
his voice echoing evilly throughout the glass chamber. Outside, the wind bellowed and blew as hard as it good against
the glass spire, but it could do nothing to break through once again.

Dorian DeHavilliard stared at the large box in his hands and looked down at his pocket to make sure that the smaller
one was still in there. He had run from the palace to the docks at the other end of the city, hoping to catch her before
she left, but there was no one there. The boat was still loading its cargo: people and boxes of imports waiting to be
transferred to Wendlyn.

His heart felt as if it were being squeezed to death. She was leaving. Shed go away for four months and she might
not come backhe didnt know what his father had said to her to make sure that she returned, but his threats were
nothing against the possibility of being killed in Wendlyn.

He didnt know how hed survive without her in the palace. He didnt know what he would do when he had a free hour
or sohe couldnt hang around the courtit was too painful, too disgusting. He had thought about going with her,
about getting onto this boat and sailing away with her, but it was such an insane idea that even he had laughed at
himself for thinking of it.

He didnt know why had had bought her the gifts that he didshe would probably hate them both. The first had been
ridiculously expensive, but they were representative of Adarlan and hopefully she might get some use out of them if
she attended Wendlyns Great Celebrationthree days and nights of dancing and drinking and celebrating the glory of
their nation. He had been a bit skeptical at first about how comfortable they might be to wearif theyd even hold
together for more than a second before shattering, but after the saleslady had tried them on and waltzed around the
room in them with ease and a pain-free face, Dorian had been conned into buying them.

The second gift, however, he had picked out all on his own. He hoped that shed wear it to remember him, to
remember what she meant to him, and to remember that there was more than freedom waiting for her upon her
arrival back in Adarlan.

Dorian felt his throat tighten. She couldnt be leaving him.

He had too much to deal with for her to leave him right now. He needed her strength and wisdom and her beautiful
face smiling at him

Magick had awakened in his blood and she was the one person who he could tell about it and know that she wouldnt
shun and fear him. He needed her beside himHe couldnt let her go.

He paced the length of the dock, staring at the blue-green water. Sometimes, when she was wearing a certain color,
her eyes looked like that.

He was dying. Thats all there was to it.

The Captain of the vessel approached him and asked him when the girl was arriving, insisting that he had to head out
while the tide was still with them. Dorian did his best to keep from snapping at the man, but couldnt help but keep
the bite out of his voice when he told him that he didnt know where she was and that hed just have to wait.

About ten minutes later, a carriage came flying into the docking area. With a pang of jealousy, Dorian saw Chaol exit
carriage, Celaena flying out behind him. She was carrying nothing but a small bag filled with an extra set of clothes, a
few provisions, and a small pouch with ten gold coins. Could he really send her off to Wendlyn like this?
Dorian looked down at the box in his hands and suddenly felt very stupid. What could she possibly use these for?
Where would she carry them?

Celaena and Chaol approached him, each looking a bit winded.

She took her damn time saying good-bye to her dog. Both of them were whining and crying so much that my ear
drums almost exploded, Chaol said with a grin. Celaena gave him a dirty look in response.

Dorian managed a weak smile. Hed take care of Fleetfoot while she was awayhed let the dog stay in his chambers
and hed feed it and train it and

Whats in the box? Chaol asked with raised eyebrows.

Dorian blushed. I he said, feeling immensely foolish.

Damn it all to hell, just give it to her!

Here, Dorian said, and shoved the box forward into Celaenas open hands. She blinked down at it in surprise, undid
the white ribbon that held the top on and slowly opened the lid.

Her eyes widened and she looked at him, her eyes filled with amusement. Just what I always wanted. Paperweights.

WHAT? PAPERWEIGHTS? STUPID WOMAN!

Theyre not for decoration, idiot! he bellowed at her. Theyre to wear!

She raised an eyebrow. Wear? Where? When? While Im doing servants tasks?

If youWhen youGods above, just give them back to me! It was a stupid idea and you dont like them, so give
them back so that I can get a refund! He reached forward to grab the box out of her hands, but she moved it out of
reach.

No! she said, putting the lid back on. I want them. Ill keep them.

Dorian blinked. YouYou do?

She shrugged. Sure. Theyre pretty to look at anywayI dont know when Ill need a pair of glass slippers, and I
dont know how I can wear them without breaking them in a millisecond, but if worse comes to worse, I can always
pawn them to make a few extra gold coins.

Dorian scowled. This wasnt the way that he wanted his gift to be used! Theyre made from Adarlans glass! Doesnt
that mean anything to you? She gave him a blank, dumb look.

My fathers palace is built out of glass! he burst out. If he can live and run a country from inside a glass castle, then
you can walk and dance in those glass slippers!

Celaena gave him an amused look. You know that I think theyre adorable. If possible, Ill wear them every single
day.

He frowned again, but before he could give her a sharp retort, the Captain called out, telling her to get on the boat.

Dorians heart clenched.

No

She couldnt be leaving. Itit wasnt possible.

With an aching heart, he saw Celaenas entertained expression shift into a serious, sad one. Putting the box in her
bag, Dorians chest throbbed with pain as she turned first to Chaol and embraced him. He watched his friend squeeze
the woman tightly, and the Crown Prince wondered for a brief, dark moment if the Captain of the Guard had ever
done that before.

It felt like an eternity before she released Chaol. Dorian held back a growl as his friend cupped her cheek in one hand
before releasing her and stepping back, giving the Crown Prince and the assassin space and privacy.

She was leavingthis might be the last time hed ever see her.

Oh, gods above he gasped, unable to deal with the pain within him. Before he could say anything more, she was in
his arms, embracing him with all the strength in her body. He held her as close and as tightly to him as he could
without hurting her, and he took in her wonderful scent one last time. He didnt know what to say to her

He loved the feeling of her in his arms, and wished that it wasnt only when something was going wrong with the
world that she was in them. He held her now to make up for all the times he hadnt held her; for the two years she
had spent in the mines, suffering and slowly dying; for the misfortunes in her past that had caused her to kill and
destroy and run from something her whole life.

He loved her so much that he felt as if his very soul was consumed by it. He loved her so much that he wondered how
he had ever managed to live or to even breathe without her around. He loved her so much that it felt like he was now
dyinghe wanted to die.

He held her until the Captain yelled down again and she pulled away. Her eyes were moist and sparkling like a jewel.
In the back of his mind, he heard Chaol yelling at the Captain to sod off, but all that Dorian could see or hear or feel
was the woman standing before him.

Dorian reached into his pocked and pulled forth the other box that he had brought with him. He looked once at it,
looked at her again, and then put it in her hands.

Celaena Sardothien looked down at the box in surprise, joy, and fear. It was small enough to be

With a sharp intake of breath, she opened the little box and looked at what was inside.

It was a ring. A tiny, silver ring with an ornately engraved band. In the center of the ring was a diamond-shaped ruby
no longer than her pinky nail; and on either side of it were two tiny pearls. It was beautiful. But was it

Its notits not what you might think it is, he said quickly. I mean, it is a ring, but its not ayou know,
engagement ring.

Something stirred within herwas it disappointment? No. Youre relieved that its not an engagement ring, fool!

Celaena smiled at Dorian and removed the ring from the box, sliding it onto the ring finger of her right hand. It fit
perfectly. Maybe one day her other hand would have a ring on it as wellbut not today. Celaena looked up at his face,
memorizing everything she saw.

She was going to miss him

Gods above, she was going to miss him

But not because I love him.

She embraced him again, holding him so tightly that it hurt, holding onto him because it was the only thing that she
could do to ease the ache in her heart. The Sea Captain, though Chaol had told him off for doing so, was yelling again.

Celaena withdrew from Dorian once more and held his face in her hands. He looked so pained, so sad

She might not ever see him again.

Good-bye, she whispered to him, releasing his beautiful face.

Celaena fought the urge to hug him again with her desire for freedom and determination to return to Adarlan
successful. She took a step back, her eyes never leaving his face. It was the most painful, heavy step she had ever
taken. It hurt her body, her mind, her soul

Breathejust breathe. Chaols words echoed in her head.

Celaena took a breath. Her legs found the strength to move. She took another breath. And another.

With a final look at Dorian DeHavilliard, Celaena Sardothien turned from him and walked up the steep wooden plank
onto the ship, taking no notice of the people around her. Once aboard, she placed her bag down and looked over the
railing, down at Dorian who was still standing where he had been seconds before.

The Captain called for the ship to cast off.

Around her, sailors scurried, untying and tying ropes.

Celaena stared at Dorian, her hands clasping the wooden railing so hard that the wood groaned beneath them.

I dont love him.

Dorian DeHavilliard darted forward as the ship began to drift away from the dock, spreading his arms and looking up
at her with eyes that were so filled with love that her heart felt like shattering. He loved her. She couldnt remember
the last time anyone had ever loved her.

Celaena, I

Celaena put a finger to her lips, motioning for his silence.

I know, she whispered to him over the railing as the ship left its port. I know.

A sense of peace and wonder overtook his face and he reached out a hand towards her despite the fact that she could
never possibly reach it. Not caring how stupid or pathetic it might look to anyone watching, Celaena repeated his
action, leaning over the rail to extend an arm towards him, her fingers reaching to touch his own as her eyes stayed
locked with his.

They stayed like that until it became useless to do so, but their eyes never left each other.

Celaena felt the free wind of the ocean upon her face, but she never stopped staring at the Crown Prince as her boat
got further and further away from the small dock. She stared at him until he was only a black speck in the distance
and took comfort in knowing that he was doing the same as well. She stared at him until there was only sparkling-
blue ocean for miles around. She stared at him until the sun dropped beyond the horizon and a star-speckled navy
blanket covered the sky.

It was only when her eyelids began to droop and the Captain insisted that she go beneath decks to her quarters that
Celaena Sardothien stopped staring at Dorian DeHavilliard.

The smell of salt filled her nostrils and a spirited wind whipped through her hair. With a hiss through her teeth,
Celaena Sardothien turned her back on Adarlan and walked towards Wendlyn, tasting bittersweet freedom at last.

HERE ENDS PART ONE OF QUEEN OF GLASS. PART TWO DEALS WITH CELAENA SARDOTHIENS ADVENTURES IN
WENDLYN AND THE GREAT THINGS THAT SHE ACCOMPLISHED THERE.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 1

For Laura

Part Two

I dont believe that I caught your name, my lovely lady

I didnt throw it.

Who are you?

It doesnt matter.

The man laughed drunkenly, beginning to unbutton his shirt. And why is that?

She looked around the room of the mans townhouse, listening for anyone that might still be awake. No one had seen
them enter the viceroys home togetherand no one would see her leave it.

Because youre going to be dead either way, she said with a twisted smile.

For a split second, the mans eyes went wide with initial shock, but then fear turned to amusement, and he let out a
loud chuckle. Youre quite a hell-cat arent you? I like that in a woman. He took a step towards her, his brain
muddled with the drug that she had slipped into his drink.

He hadnt been hard to spot at the dinner party that she had snuck into, pretending to be one of the anonymous
heiresses of Renaril. She had charmed him with her beauty and grace, just as she had practiced many times before,
and he hadnt even glanced at the drugged drink that she handed him under the pretense of a cocktail. The party had
been so crowded that no one had noticed her leading him out, ordering his chauffeur to bring them to his home.

For her first mission, this was going wonderfully well. Arobynn had been right about everything. He had taught her all
the he knew, but a lot of it had been theoretical teaching. Arobynn Hamel had never taught or known of a female
assassin, so in many ways, she was an experiment. Apparently, females could be more effective assassins than males
especially in a world where females were only supposed to reproduce, keep house, and cook.

Her nerves were slightly on edge, but Arobynn had said that it was natural for her to feel nervous. She subtly shifted
her left arm to make sure that the slender dagger was still strapped and hidden beneath her long, billowing sleeves.
Just a minute or two more

I dont often take young ladies home, but you were so lovely that I couldnt resist the ambassador was saying, his
speech slurred. He stumbled, but regained his composure, approaching her once more.

She stared at his face with cold eyes, a flash of hatred surging through her. The King of Adarlan had elected this man
to be viceroy of Trasien. Hed govern over Trasien as a puppet of the king, warping the country, her country, into the
corrupted world that Adarlan had become. Pampered, court-trained bastard.

He was within a foot of her now, his eyes repulsively shining with lust.

Her right hand drifted towards her left arm.

What right did he have to rule over Trasien? What right did the King of Adarlan have to rule over Trasien? She
imagined the viceroy sitting on the throne of Trasien, befouling it with

Dont think about that. Arobynn said not to think about that anymore

The man was so blinded by his lust and drugged mind that he didnt even notice the change in her emotions and
composure. This was it. This was the moment that Arobynn had told her to wait for. All that she had to do was draw
the dagger and slit his throat.

Just bite down on it, damn it. Swallow it and get it over with. Youve killed other things beforewhat difference does it
make if this time its a human?

The viceroy reached out a hand to touch her face, panting slightly, his breath reeking of alcohol. She took a quick look
around his room, taking in all of the finery and riches that had been bestowed upon him by his king. This pig-faced
slob was going to govern her country
As his hand brushed against her cheek, she drew her concealed dagger so swiftly that it seemed to appear in her
hand out of thin air. With a strong flick of her wrist, she slashed her weapon across his exposed throat. She looked
into his eyes during that brief moment, basking in the horror and disbelief that she saw there.

Son of a bitch, she hissed through her teeth as he fell to the ground, clasping his throat as his lifes blood spilled out
between his fingers and onto the richly colored carpet. Moving away from him, she watched the man die, loathing and
disgust coating her face.

She waited a minute to make sure he was really dead, and then looked down at her white-gloved hands. There was a
mild amount of blood speckled and spread over them. She took her dagger and, squatting down, wiped it clean on the
mans fancy jacket, smearing blood on the finery.

Adarlans assassin rose to her feet.

With a final look at the would-be viceroy of Trasien, she walked from his room and out of his house, concealing herself
with shadows and darkness. No one noticed her.

It wasnt until the morning that the servants found their master lying dead on his floor, his throat slit and his eyes
frozen wide with fear. The news spread like wildfire. Suspects were few.

The coachman said that the viceroy had gone home with an unknown womana noble probablybut he didnt know
her name. Those who had been at the party had seen the mysterious beauty that had charmed the viceroy of Trasien,
but no one knew if they had left together or not. No one knew her name. None of them had ever seen her before.

The search for the maiden went on for days, but no one could find her. Eventually, they all forgot about her, but they
subconsciously always kept a wary eye open for any strangers at elite parties and functions. A few months later, news
came of another assassinationin the city of Anielle. This time, Adarlans minister of war was dead. There were no
suspects.

The assassinations continued. No one knew if the assassin was hired or if they were doing it of their own free will. The
rulers and politicians of the country didnt know whom to trustthe security in which they have lived in was now
steadily eroding.

Months, then years passed. An endless line of politicians and aristocrats found themselves six feet under. The killings
became creative, almost a form of art in a twisted sort of way. No one knew where or when the phantom assassin
would strike againpanic was growing with each assassination.

A name emerged from the chaosSardothien. It was the name left lingering at every crime scene in some form or
another. Despite their efforts, authorities could find nothing on the past or identity of the person bearing the surname
of Sardothien. They didnt even know the sex of the assassin, but most assumed that it was a man. A rare few
suspected that the maiden who had been the last person to be seen with the viceroy of Trasien was linked with the
countless assassinations, but it was such an absurd idea that they never spoke of it.

For years, authorities searched, but they couldnt find the assassinno one could. They didnt know where to begin
looking. Those that hired Adarlans assassin only hired her through midnight meetings and messengers, arranged by
such a tangled web of communication that it would be impossible to trace it back to a single source.

Adarlans assassin hunted where she saw fit, taking jobs that pleased her, but never turning down a well-paying one.
The political field of Adarlan was dangerous and full of thorns. There were always people looking for someone to trim
the hedges.

The more countries Adarlan conquered, the more jobs there were for the assassin. Soon, Adarlans assassin had the
highest price on her head than any other criminal in history. But none of the creatures of the underworld were willing
to give her up. They all feared her and her companions too much to risk such a thing for a great sum of money.

And so the assassin went on assassinating, lurking in the shadows, playing in the dark, watching the world slowly
descend into Hell.

A select few knew who she really waswho she was beyond the name of Celaena Sardothien. They knew why she
woke from her dreams screaming. They understood the dreams that hunted her in the depths of her conscious, and
they understood the battle that was always being fought to keep her memories down at heel. But soon a few turned
into one.

Arobynn Hamel kept his protges past a secret that he would bring to the grave. He had trained her to hate
Adarlans kinghe had trained her to hate all those who followed his bidding. He had built on her hatred and shame
he transformed her from an innocent child into a ruthless queen of the night.

But he could never stop the dreams.

He knew that one day she would face themand hate him for what he had done to her.

She had been delirious when he had found her on the banks of the river, half-dead and practically frozen. She had
barely remembered anything, but when her memories began to kick in, and he had realized what she was, he had
forced her to forget most of her memories, and to instead use her remaining fear and loathing to kill and destroy.

But the dreams

He had made her into the Empress of Hell, but none of his training could keep away the wailings of memory and
unfulfilled destiny. For seventeen years, her dreams had stalked her as mercilessly as she killed.

But now

Now she would face them.

Now she would face all of them.

Celaena Sardothien strode down the long wooden dock with the rest of the passengers that had been on her ship, her
legs desperately trying to remember the feeling of solid ground beneath them. She swayed and staggered a little,
blushing and scowling furiously as sailors laughed and winked at her while she recovered from a bad case of sea legs.

By the time she reached the final plank of the dock, the ground had stopped swaying from side to side, and she was
able to walk forward without feeling as if she were going to slide in the opposite direction. Her hands were tightly
clutching her small sack to her chest as she took a look around.

Wendlyn.

After three weeks at sea, she had finally made it. A warm, tropical breeze ran through her golden hair, and Celaena
Sardothien basked in the lukewarm climate.

While Adarlan was trapped in a frozen state of winter, the climate in Wendlyn was such that even in winter it
remained at a comfortable temperature. As her journey had progressed, the weather had gotten warmer and warmer,
and within a week and a half of traveling, she had placed all of her winter clothing in the bottom of her sack. It still
got quite cool at night, but, for the most part, it felt like early spring.

Despite the lovely weather, it had been a long voyage, requiring her to change boats three times and to go through
an endless number of officials and immigration officers who questioned and prodded her about why she wanted to
enter Wendlyn. For the past three weeks she had pretended to be Ari Mauve, a servant looking for a better life in
Wendlyn. It had been the plainest name and background she could think of while being questionedand frankly, she
was glad to be rid of it.

Celaena stared at the tall cypress trees that lined the long avenue that stretched from the dock. It was like entering
into a completely other world. It practically was. The last time she had set foot on land, it had been in a cold, dark
and frozen country. But here

Celaena took a deep breath, taking in the richly scented air. It was like nothing she had ever felt or seen before.
Hovering on the borders of the town, opposite from the turquoise sea, lay an endless forest of emerald-green
mountains and rolling hills, speckled with freckles of little red-roofed towns and villages. Down from these hill-towns,
the sound of tolling bells drifted towards the city like clouds on that marvelous breeze, creating the effect that she
were standing in a vast, outdoor temple. Long ago, Trasien had once been like this

She could understand why the King of Adarlan would want this country under his belt. There was something in the air
here. Something that made her skin tingle and her senses awaken. It was an air of ancient mystery and traditionit
was filled with warmth and wisdom and yet it held a passion and vibrant flavor that made it feel as if it were fresh
from the bud of youth.

The air was alive. There wasnt any other way to put it. The land seemed to be as much of a character as the people
who inhabited it. She took another breath, tasting the air once more. It was so refreshingespecially compared to the
way that she had spent the last sixty minutes.

For the past hour, she and the other women on the ship had been interviewed by Wendlyns immigration officials,
waiting for permission to get off the boat, onto the dock, and away into freedom. It was a longer, more thorough
process than any she had experienced before, and it had required all of her memorization and lying skills to keep the
facts and character of Ari Mauve straight. By the time she had received her clearance pass to enter the country, her
patience was already tried to the point where she didnt feel like bidding good-bye to any of the other refugee women
on board.

But there were other reasons for that as well. Celaena hadnt bothered to befriend any of the women that had come
over with hershe kept to herself in her cabin (the one luxury that had been granted to her by the King of Adarlan)
and had found ways to amuse herself. The last thing she needed right now was another friendship.

But, without someone to talk to, the first two weeks at sea had been boring and bland. However, the last week of the
voyage had taken a different turn. The first dramatic change was when they began to travel only at night.

Twenty miles from Wendlyn, the immigrant women had switched over onto a guard ship that had been sent to bring
them the last leg of the journey. To keep enemy eyes from spying, the ship had moved through the endless coral
reefs under cover of darkness, pausing and stopping, and often changing directions completely. While Celaena might
have (under different circumstances) found this intriguing, the fact that she was on a tight schedule made her nerves
go taut.

Frustrated and slightly worried, she became impatient and snapped at everyone who approached her. The ship sat like
a duck in the water during the day, which at first had caused the assassin to pace and brood on the decks, despite the
fact that she was trying hard to act like Ari Mauve instead of Adarlans assassin. It wasnt until a courageous sailor
pointed out that the coral reefs in which they would be spending their days were far more interesting to look at than
the wooden planks, had Celaena calmed down slightly.

The sailor was right. There were lots of pretty fish to look atyellow, blue, purple, pink, greenevery color, pattern
and shape. They looked like little jewels swimming around in the turquoise water, and Celaena couldnt help but be
fascinated by these tropical creatures. Many times a day, a pod of dolphins or some other well-meaning marine
mammal would approach the boat to jabber and chirp and try to lure those watching into the water for a game of
toss-the-oyster, but they would soon lose interest when they realized that humans didnt share their bubbly sense of
humor.

But when they did decide to stay for a while, Celaena decided to keep them company. At first, she tossed them pieces
of hard bread and small oranges. However, she soon discovered that marine mammals found playing with the food
she gave them more amusing than eating it; a realization that came about when the assassin had an orange flipped
back into her face, resulting in an ugly bruise. After that, she kept her food to herself.

Despite their mischievous behavior, the dolphins were still wonderful creatures to watchintelligent, swift, and
sometimes possessing more character than people she knew.

She observed these children of the sea to keep at bay the loneliness that had begun to build within her chest the
moment her ship had drifted away from Renaril. Their grinning faces and high-pitched giggling and chatter were
infectious, especially when they were keen on getting her into the water with them.

Instead, she found a good use for her food again, and took to playing catch with them. To her joy and wonder, it only
took them a few moments to pick up the rules of the simple game and join in. More often than not, they would add in
their own rulesif she tossed it high, theyd throw it back with their tails; if she tossed it low, theyd use their long
noses to propel the orange forward. Each dolphin would have an individual set of rules, and Celaena had a difficult
time keeping track of which laws applied to whom.
It felt wrong to call them animalsthey were too smart to be classified like thatso Celaena instead secretly named
them. Each anonymous, just-passing-by marine mammal received an individual name. It was, if nothing, a way to
pass the hours.

The sailors on board the ship had laughed in wonder when they saw the young immigrant from Adarlan sitting on the
side of the ship, her bare feet dangling over the side as she tossed an orange back and forth between herself and a
dolphin. They mockingly called her a sea-sprite and a maiden of the ocean and asked her when she was planning on
slipping back into her sealskin and returning to her native realm. Of course, Celaena ignored themshe ignored all of
them.

When the sun dipped beyond the horizon and her nautical friends disappeared beneath the darkening waves, the
assassin returned to her rooms, falling asleep before her ever-growing misery could catch up with her conscience. The
cat-and-mouse game she was playing with her feelings was almost tiring for her, but Celaena didnt let herself dwell
on it enough for it to become a problem.

Besides, she had bigger fish to fry.

Now standing on the soil of Wendlyn, having finally received her immigration pass, Celaena Sardothien had no idea
what to do. She didnt know where the palace was located or where she might find work or where she even was at the
moment in relation to things. She had asked the Captain of her last ship and he had told her that they were going to
dock at Moselian Port. Of course, that meant nothing to her. She wished she had brought a map. It irritated her that
she felt and was so unprepared for coming over to Wendlyn. True, she knew what her ultimate goal was here, but she
had no idea how to accomplish it yet.

Her stomach in a bit of a knot and her temper beginning to mount like the morning sun, Celaena released her pack
from her firm grasp and swung it over her shoulder. She moved away from the docking area, and strolled down the
broad avenue with no direction in mind, taking in everything she saw. At least it was better than standing still.

Moselian Port, from the look of it, was a large, important seaside town. All along the waterfront were docks and cargo-
holding areas; massive three-sailed ships with their canvas sails pregnant with the wind; and a sand-frosted
boardwalk that was lined on one side with taverns, inns, and shops for as far as she could see until the bend of the
coast.

White seabirds flew like kites in the overhead blue sky, bobbing lazily on the flavored breeze. People bustled past her,
dressed in clothing that was more sensible than fashionable, though she did see a good deal of well-dressed people. It
was a city that much resembled the nicer parts of Renaril, but there was one key difference: everyone seemed to be
alive.

It was a strange idea to grasp, but in Renarilin Adarlaneveryone had seemed to be void of something. People
seemed to be broken and filled with either malice or despair. It was rare to see a smile or a glitter in someones eye
that was not from some ill-cause. But here

Celaena looked in awe at the joy and contentment she found in the faces of the people she passed. Their faces were
lit with the brilliant fire of life; and each person, from servant to master, seemed to be at peace with their world.
There was laughter and singing in the airand the sun seemed to shine down upon Moselian Port not to warm it, but
to feel the warmth that generated from the people and the land.

It was a place like none other. She felt as if she were dreaming; as if this were some sort of surreal paradise that
could spontaneously pop like a bubble if she approached it too fast.

Celaena was so taken aback by this mysterious country that she forgot she was even walking. She could now
understand how could the King of Adarlan wanted this for his own.

Everyone here seemed so pure, so much a part of the land

Her step faltered.

Celaena looked down at herself. She felt strangely guilty for being here. She felt unworthy of such a place. Did any of
them know who Adarlans assassin was? Had they even heard of her? Did they even have assassins in Wendlyn?

They do now.
Celaena stopped walking and moved out of the way of those passing down the street. She had to get down to
business. She couldnt dillydally through the city all daythere were things to be done and only a short amount of
time to do them. From what she knew, the capital of Wendlyn was no more than fifty miles from the sea, but she had
no idea where it was in relation to Port Moselian. For all she knew, it could be a thousand miles away!

Shit.

Momentary panic setting in, Celaena began to walk again, heading in the direction which she had just come from. She
needed to find a place where information could be easily found, and if she knew anything about that sort of thing, she
was certain that an inn or tavern would be the best place to find what she was looking for.

She chose a random tavern along the boardwalk and walked in, thankful that it wasnt too crowded or noisy. With an
unsure smile, she approached the man who seemed to be running the place.

Pardon me, she asked as sweetly as she could, but you wouldnt happen to have a map of Wendlyn lying around,
would you?

The man looked up at her with raised eyebrows, and silently pointed to the wall adjacent to where they were
standing. Turning, she saw a framed map hanging on the wooden planks that made up the wall. Thanking him, she
neared it and scanned it.

Using her finger, she located Moselian Port, and looked across the map for the capital of Wendlyn. She let out a sigh
of relief when she saw that the capital city was only twenty miles from Moselian Port. It wouldnt take her that long to
get there by foot, but what she would do while she was there was something of concern to her. Since the King of
Adarlan had barely given her any gold, she would need a job to sustain herself. But she didnt know the first place to
look. The world suddenly seemed very large and very complex. A scowl rose to her face. Stupid immigration laws.

Almost as if he were reading her mind, the manager of the inn spoke to her.

Yer an immigran arent ye? Aye, yer accen gave it awayand yer foreign clothin. But don worry, its not of any
issue or imporance ere. If yer lookin fer a job, there be a service fairye know, a job market of sortsgoin on righ
now in Hazel Bush Square. Id bet a pretty penny that ye will find the job yer lookin for thereits not just a
coincidence that yer boat docked today! Aye, aye, I know that yer freshly landed, ye still have the fresh scent of salt
air on ye. He gave her a toothy smile and pointed to the map on the wall beside the one she was looking at. It was a
map of Port Moselian. If ye can locate the circle on the map that says the Two Pigeons Tavern, he said, and Celaena
followed his instructions, then find the spot where it says Hazel Bush Square, then ye can find the route from ere to
there. It took her a moment to trace a path and memorize it, and then she turned toward the man.

Thank you, she said, suddenly aware of her own accent, I truly appreciate it. She smiled, thinking of how canny
Wendlyns employers were to initiate a job fair the day a large group of women immigrants came over from Wendlyn.
Not only would women take any position given to them, they would and could also be paid the lowest wages on the
market.

So Wendlyn is not all smiles and joyshe thought with dark satisfaction, feeling less alien already. However, the
mans next words slightly threw off her comforted feelings that the world here was slightly tainted.

Aw, the man said, winking at her, it be no trouble at all to help such a pretty lass as yerself! If ye ever need a hand
or anythin, be sure to call on ol Gus at the Two Pigeons Tavern! Anythin at all, mind ye!

She habitually thanked him again, bowing her head in gratitude, her mind running over her path once more, and left
the tavern, genuinely puzzled that such help had come at no cost.

The service fair at Hazel Bush Square was crowded and loud, but it was controlled and orderly, and people looked
calm and happy. Hazel Bush Square was large, yet kept as sparkling clean as other parts of the city, and at its center
there was an elevated hazel bush, in which several turtledoves sat perched, oblivious to the throngs of people around
them. Celaena Sardothien walked past the stands of possible employers, casually looking at jobs of all sorts in all
kinds of locations. Most of them were in places that she had never even heard of. She spent a quarter of an hour
looking for anything remotely near the capital city, and when she felt that her luck was finally beginning to wear out,
she saw the stand that made her heart relax with relief.
The castlethe royal castleof Wendlyn was looking for servants. Celaena couldnt believe her luckor why no one
else was approaching the stand. Maybe people just didnt want to serve in a corrupted court

Grinning, the assassin approached the large, blue-and-silver striped stand and looked at the man who stood behind
the counter. He was counting a large stack of papers, and it took him a moment to look up at her. He raised an
eyebrow.

Im here to apply for a job at the castle, she said with another smile, hoping that she had said the right thing. The
man continued to stare at her. Celaena flushed with embarrassment. Thisthis is the right stand, right? She looked
up at the banner above her. It says here that you

Didnt you hear the announcement a moment ago? the man interrupted, obviously irritated that she had intruded on
his counting. The stands closedweve got as many as we can take and then some. You should have been here ten
minutes agothere was space then. Better luck next year. The man shrugged to himself and went back to looking
through his papers, signaling her dismissal.

Next year? Next year! Ill give you next year, you pompous bastard! I cant wait that long! I need to get into the
castle!

Celaenas temper was risingand fast. Too fast.

I dont think you understand, she growled through clenched teeth, I need this job. Celaena was trying desperately
to keep from snapping the mans neck in two.

And so do a hundred other people, but that isnt my problem, is it? Its not my fault you were late, so you have no
one to blame but yourself. His proper, pompous accent was like nails on a chalkboard.

But I only just got hereIve got to get a job or else Im going to starve.

There are twenty-three other employers that you can bother about this then. If youll excuse me, Madam, I have to
get back to

Screw your paperwork, she barked, and several people turned to look at her. I need this job!

The man frowned. If you think that Im going to give you a job by using foul language, you must have been at sea
for too long. There is no room, and if there was, I would be inclined not to give it to someone of yourTemperament.

Temperament? Youyou

Her fists clenched and unclenched. It wasnt fairthis was the perfect job, the perfect way to get what she needed to
do doneand it wasnt available. Frustration and despair began to well up in her chest. Security to get into the castle
was top-notch. Youd either have to be a servant or a known noble to get init was surrounded with armed guards
day and nightsecurity was even worse than in Adarlan. True, she might be able to break past the gate or get into
the castle, but who was to say whether or not shed be shot down by arrows scaling the wall to the kings bedroom or
trying to enter the normal way? It was impossible.

Celaena let out a disappointed sigh, lowering her head, and turned away from the stand. If she didnt accomplish what
she came here to do in the set amount of time, Chaol would be killed. If she didnt get a job, shed starve. Everything
had rested on getting a job in or close to the castle, but now

Look, the man said from behind her, if you really need a job, theres a stand on the other side of the squarewith
the green bannerthat has been looking for someone all day. True, the womans a bit of a devil, but I think shes had
bad luck finding someone today and is about willing to take anyone.

Celaena looked at the man with a frown. Thanks, she said glumly, and walked away, heading towards the stand that
the man had pointed out. As she walked past the center of the square, the turtledoves that had been seated in the
hazel bush took flight, soaring into the sky above. Celaena watched them fly away, feeling guilty at the thought that
she might have scared them away when all the crowds couldnt do so. Celaena looked at the elevated square stone
basin in which the bush was kept and picked up a stray white feather that had been left behind, tucking it into her
sack as a keepsake of sorts. She then continued onwards.
Behind the counter sat a long-nosed, cold-eyed woman with impeccable posture and ridiculous amounts of finery and
jewels on her. The woman looked up at Celaena with dark eyes, and she could feel the woman calculating something
about her.

May I help you? the woman said with faux kindness, her eyes glittering in a way similar to that of Kaltain Rompiers.

That bastard thought that I could work for someone like this? That son of a bitch!

The man from the castle table sent me over here to inquire about a job opportunity. Celaena read the description
sign above the womans head. Servant neededfull-time, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, needs to be
proficient in sewing, cooking, cleaning, dressingthe list went on and on. This sounded more like slavery than
working. The only positive things about the job were the fact that food and lodging were covered in the wages, and
that the estate lay only two miles from the castle and capital city. But getting into the castle

The woman examined Celaena once more. I have need of another servantmy two daughters are preparing for
marriage and I need all of the extra help that my purse can afford. We spend a good deal of our time in court
Celaenas hopes raised suddenly, hearing the wonderful words and we may need a replacement on occasions for
some of our older servants who accompany us to the capital to help with our dressing and essentials like that. Of
course, because well be spending so much of our time in the capital in the next upcoming months, we really need
more hands to do the work at the chateau. It was too good to be true.

Do you have any experience in housework and court life?

Celaena considered the woman for a moment, her blue eyes staring down into the womans mercilessly. The womans
tone was so condescending that the assassin considered the idea that perhaps Kaltain and she were related.

Yes, Celaena said tonelessly. Ive had experience in both. It was a lie of coursethe only thing that she had done
in her life that had ever resembled housework was mining in the salt-mines of Endovier. However, she knew what it
was like to be in court, she knew the tricks and protocolin Adarlan at least.

If I hire you, I should hope that you would address me as mistress.

A bell rang from one side of the square and the woman frowned deeply. Time is almost upunfortunately, you are
the only one left to consider.

Celaena almost told the woman that she hadnt even offered herself yet, but the possibility of gaining such a lucky job
held her tongue still. If she worked for this woman, shed gain access to both the castle and to any stray news and
gossip from the castleTrue, working in the castle would have been better, but at least now she had some excuse for
being caught or entering the palace

I leave tonight, the woman stated. How much experience have you had? Do you have any recommendations?
Where do you come from and how old are you?

And where was I born and whats my middle name and how many cousins do I have on my fathers aunts side of the
family?

Im from Trasien, she told truthfully, but then began to invent a new persona to take on in the upcoming months,
but for the past five years Ive been working in Adarlan in the royal palace at Renaril, a position which I just left to
come over here to find work and asylum. If you doubt my capabilities, contact the Crown Prince of Adarlan for my
credentialsI worked directly for him.

The woman looked impressed for a moment, but then frowned again. Whats your age?

Does it make a difference? Twenty five.

The woman stared at Celaena for a long while, her beady eyes examining every inch of the assassin. Celaena stared
back at her future employer unblinkingly.

I suppose youll have to do. I cant go home empty-handed. Do you understand all of the requirements? The woman
said after a while, pulling out a piece of parchment with a contract written upon it.
Yes, Celaena said, scanning the sign again. Yes, I do.

Then sign here, the woman said, and prepare to meet me at the North Gate at sundown. I will have a wagon
waiting for you and my supplies. If anyone asks, tell them the Baroness du Tremaine ordered you to be there.

Celaena stared at the contract, reading it over twice. It was to-the-point and far from cryptic. In fact, aside from her
normal duties, which seemed to never end, she had a lot of freedom to do as she wished. With a final look at the
woman who would be in charge of her fate for the next few months, Celaena picked up the pen that lay on the
counter and signed the name that popped into her mind.

The Baroness du Tremaine picked up the contract and, squinting, tried to make out the name that Celaena had
scribbled onto the parchment.

How can you expect me to read this chicken-scratch? What is your name? Let me clearly print it below so that I dont
have to strain my eyes any further.

Behind Celaena, the turtledoves returned from wherever they had flown to, settling once more in the hazel bush.

For remembrance, as a reminder

Elentulyai. My name is Elentulyai Hamel.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 2

Celaena Sardothien sat in the back of the luggage wagon, crammed in between hatboxes and trunks of clothing.
Beneath her, the hard wood groaned as it bumped along the crooked and dusty road, the wagon rocking from side to
side. Her legs dangled off of the edge, idly swinging in the night air as she looked around at the passing countryside.

The fact that they were traveling at night frustrated Celaena, who believed she had had more than her fair share of
night traveling. Against the cloudy dark backdrop of the sky, the assassin could barely make out the outlines of
mountains; and she could only tell that they existed because of the firefly lights of the villages nestled into their sides.

It had been heavily raining on and off all evening, and she had dragged out her old green cloak, which was now
thoroughly soaked through. The Baroness du Tremaine had ordered a canvas tarp to be placed over her luggage, but
had failed to remember her new employee seated in the wagon that followed behind her ornate carriage. Celaena
wasnt surprised at being treated in such a mannershe was a servant now, and one under the order of a woman
whose physical and mental likeliness to Kaltain Rompier was unsettling.

Celaenas fingers fiddled affectionately with the ring that sat on her right hand.

I doubt a servant would be wearing something like this

She reached to pull it off of her finger, but stopped as she felt the warm metal of the band.

It can wait a couple of hours.

The muscles in her chest tightened for a second as a face flashed across her mind, and suddenly three months
seemed like an eternity. She wanted to be on a boat to Adarlan, to Renaril, right now. If she came back empty-
handed, hed protect her. He loved her; of course hed protect her.

Another face passed by and her hopes of giving up were suddenly suppressed by a heavy weight.

He might be able to protect her, but he wouldnt be able to protect him.

Rain began to fall again, and she pulled her cloak closer around her, flipping her hood back over her head. Despite the
warm weather and sunny day, it was freezing outside, especially now that they were driving through the mountains.
She had spent the remainder of her day seeing as much of Port Moselian as possible, spending what little gold she
had left on tasting new foods and buying a new pair of clothes. Celaena reflexively made sure that her sack was
carefully tucked beneath the safety of the canvas. Just to make sure
She had come so close to losing those glass slippers many times in the past few weeksmainly due to immigration
officials searching through her belongings and asking too many questions. They had let her keep them only when she
had faked a bout of hysterics, insisting through her tears and wailing that the shoes had been a gift from her dying
sister. It was so easy to con men into letting you have things your way when you had a pretty face and a flare for
extreme lying.

The assassin frowned. Shed have to keep track of her lies here. Shed have to remember her name, where she came
from, and all of the details of her new personality. Biting down on her lip, Celaena ran through everything that she
had made up today. It was hard remembering the differences between Ari Mauve and Elentulyai Hamel. Too hard.

Wiping the rain from her face, she carefully considered keeping the few lies that she had told the Baroness and
dropping all the rest that kept on popping into her head. Maybe she could just

Be yourself? Youre an assassin. Its impossible to be yourself without the killing and the fighting and crime Isnt it?

How much of who I am is Adarlans assassin and how much of who I am is me? Or am I only Adarlans assassin? Are
all of my other traits and likes and dislikes part of the whole that is Adarlans assassin? Or is Adarlans assassin just
another trait thats part of Celaena Sardothien, which is in itself just another faux identity, another lie

Celaena drew her soaking-wet legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, truly disturbed.

Who exactly am I?

II dont know. I dont know who I am at all! Deep down inside, or out in the wild abyss of the dark, what am I? How
can I be myself without knowing what myself is made up of?

Her eyes watched the lights of the little villages on the mountainsides in the distance, their golden balls of flame like
isolated and scattered campfires of an army waiting in the dark for orders.

Ill just have to take out the assassin in me around these people. Ill have to ignore my killing instincts and skills and
just be a normal person for a while. A person who never met Arobynn Hamel or never killed a man with a hairpin or
never played midnight games of pool with the Crown Prince of Adarlan

Does Dorian even know who I am? Does he love me as Adarlans assassin or as the person outside of that? Or as
both? But whats the difference between them, if any at all? What am I to him?

The rain slowed to a stop and a thick, wild-tasting air filled her nostrils. It was the smell of purity, the smell when the
blemishes and dirt in nature had been wiped away. The lukewarm haze on which it was carried caressed her senses
and gently cradled her face.

Why does he even love me?

Closing her eyes to feel the waves of the mist refresh her tired face, Celaena deeply breathed in the musky air, its
lullaby of scents seducing her into sleep.

I dont even understand why were here at this hour, Arobynn. It can wait until morning, Im sure. Celaena
Sardothien lit a cigarette and took a long drag, adjusting her red silk robe with her spare hand.

Umels been caught. It was a trap. Arobynn Hamel did not look happy.

Then kill him, she said bluntly, exhaling the smoke into the open space of the underground chamber.

What? Another assassin asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Celaena looked around at the gathered guild, scanning the uneasy crowd. It was the middle of the night, she needed
rest, and she was beginning to get annoyed at being called out of bed for such a trivial matter.

Its not that hard to understand, she said casually, flicking ashes into the ornate glass ashtray that rested on the
table beside her. Just send an apprentice to slip something into his food. Nothing painful, of course, just something
that will kill him before he has time to talk.
What if hes already talked? said an assassin named Symeth.

Then kill everyone who heard.

Celaena took another drag of her cigarette and stared at Arobynn Hamel. You really didnt need to drag us all down
here to decide this. It could have been settled in two minutes if

Celaena caught the look on Arobynns face and her brows suddenly knotted. What else happened?

Arobynn ran a hand through his red hair, letting out a shaky sigh. Bruno was killed.

A shock went through Celaena, but she kept it beneath the surface. How? When? Why? she snapped, her grief
coming out as irritation and frustration.

Bruno must have gotten involved somehowI dont know the details, but I know that hes dead. They found his body
near the prison.

Do you have it?

Arobynn stared back at her unblinkingly, and she saw through his storm-gray eyes that he was feeling the same
things she was. No, he said.

The other assassins in the room were looking at the ground.

Why in Hell didnt you get it? she barked at them all, feeling an urge to kill something rising up in her chest.

Dont you think it would have been a bit obvious if some of us had been seen dragging a mans body back through
the streets? It could have led someone right to us! Symeth snapped back at her, his young face flushed with anger
and shame.

Youre assassins, trained by Arobynn Hamelyoure supposed to be able to do something like that without being
seen!

If you had been there, you would have done the same thing! the young assassin snarled.

If I had been there, Bruno wouldnt be dead!

Who do you think you are? Just because youre a woman and you get paid more than we do doesnt make you better
than us! Look at you, ordering us, ordering Hamel around like youre our goddamn queen! He took a step towards
her.

Celaena stood up out of her chair, responding to his challenge, grinding her cigarette into the ashtray. Why dont you
come over here and Ill prove to you why Im better than you, Symeth? she said with deadly calm.

Why, you

SILENCE! Arobynn shouted over them, stepping between the two rivals. Both hot-blooded youths stopped in their
tracks, their daggers, which had been drawn from thin air, disappearing as fast as they had arrived in hand. You, he
barked, pointing at Celaena, sit. You, he said, turning to Symeth, that corner. Now.

Celaena and Symeth stared at each other, neither one moving. The other assassins in the room were tense, ready to
pry whichever of the two who attacked first off of the one who had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of the
assault.

I said now, Arobynn snarled, getting ready to physically force them apart.

Arobynn looked at Celaena, then looked at Symeth. No movement. He knew that they were rivals: naturally they
would be, since they were the same age and had both been trained together by Arobynn himself, but he also knew
which one of them would win this fight.
Arobynn took a step towards Symeth, pushing him back with a strong hand towards the far side of the room. The
youths eyes didnt leave those of the young womans. If this went on much longer

Arobynn grabbed Symeths face savagely, forcing the young man to look into his eyes. Calm yourself or Ill do it for
you, Symeth. Youre a fool for picking a fight with her tonight.

Arobynn knew what the young man really felt for Celaena Sardothien. Why else would he spend so much time trying
to get a reaction out of a beautiful girl who normally gave no reaction at all save an arrogant toss of the head and a
snide remark? It was only natural for him to be attracted to herand it was only natural that hed want to kill her as
well.

But while Symeth would hesitate to harm her, Celaena wouldnt think twice about killing Symeth. Her lack of
conscious regret and mercy made her a potent assassin, but it also made her a very dangerous woman.

Symeth took a breath and closed his eyes, the tension easing out of his muscles. When he opened them, he kept his
gaze to the floor.

Arobynn Hamel turned back to Celaena Sardothien and felt his heart shiver at the cold rage he found in her eyes.
Secretly, he was glad that for once her anger and wrath were not focused on him, but on some easily replaceable
youth. He knew what she could do when provoked to the killing-edgethe results could be catastrophic. He looked
around the room, at all of the tense faces, and guessed that they were considering the same thing.

If allowed to take out her frustration and anger, Arobynn guessed that she could kill everyone in this room in less
than two minutes.

Adarlans assassin did not take well to her friends being killed.

Celaena he began, his voice echoing in the silent room. No one dared to move.

She didnt take her eyes off of Symeth, who was trying to keep his eyes fastened to the floor.

Celae

I need a drink, she said suddenly, as she dropped her murderous gaze, snapping out of the killing-edge as if it were
nothing. She adjusted her red robe again and ran a hand through her blond hair. A very big drink.

She walked from the room, pausing in the doorway to turn to the assembled men. Dont forget what I said about
Umel. He cant be given the opportunity to tell the authorities where and who we are. I suggest sending out a novice
as soon as one can be dispatched. If you hesitate, Arobynn Hamel, it may mean the death of all of us.

She left then, walking up the spiral staircase to the large mansion above, leaving all who remained in the room in
shocked silence.

Celaena Sardothien awoke from her dream some time later when the rain began to fall again, instantly checking to
make sure that her bag hadntfallen off of the wagon. It rained for a few moments, then stopped again.

Her eyes scanned the area around them. They were out of the mountains, but if she looked hard enough, she could
still make them out. How long had she been asleep? It was only an eighteen-mile journey, so they should have been
there by now

They were traveling across a flat stretch of landto her left lay the beginnings of what seemed to be a very large
forest, but in the dark, everything can appear vast and intimidating. The air was humming with energythere was a
spark of lightning in it that left a kind of metallic feeling in her nostrils and mouth.

After a while of listening to the sounds of the night, they turned down a narrow dirt road lined on either side with a
column of high-reaching trees. Staring up at the branches, she could see things moving aboutthings that made her
skin crawl. They were flitting about from branch to branch, and when one fell from a missed jump, Celaenas eyes
followed it to find that there were more things moving about on the ground at the base of the trees. The light from the
carriage in front of the wagon revealed nothingonly grassas it passed, but every now and then, she caught a
gleam of reflected light in somethings eye that she knew did not belong to any kind of tree-dwelling rodent or animal.
The things seemed to have a kind of energy similar to the feeling in the air. It made her uneasy. Scooting herself
further into the safety of the wagon, Celaena Sardothien tried to stay as far away from the edge as possible. She
didnt want any little hands or paws or claws reaching up and grabbing her foot or leg

She could hear them making noisesnoises that sounded more like talking and exchanging of words than primal,
animal communication

Celaena didnt believe in spiritsshe barely even believed in the gods abovebut now all of the ghost legends and
warnings were rushing into her mind. She felt like leaping up over the luggage and making room for herself beside the
driver of the wagon (who had practically no room thanks to the excess luggage that had to be stored up front), but
pride kept her in place. The horses didnt seem bothered by the bizarre noises and creatures that were scampering
around, and she had heard somewhere that animals are always the first to notice supernatural things like that

What nonsense! She was Adarlans assassin! How ridiculous for her to be frightened of something that was probably
just the product of an over-active imagination! But still

Before she could be tempted to toss her pride into the wind and seat herself in the lap of the driver, they broke free of
the avenue of trees and came to a stop in front of a pleasantly sized chateau. There were lights on in the windows,
and Celaena had never been more relieved to see human civilization and warmth than in that moment.

A small side door opened and three people rushed outagainst the outpouring light, Celaena could tell that there
were two men and one woman.

They greeted their mistress, and without a further word, rushed towards the wagon. To avoid being mistaken as a
piece of luggage herself, Celaena hopped off of the wooden cart and stood awkwardly to the side as she stretched her
muscles while the servants began to unload the wagons contents. Should she help?

She opened her mouth to speak, but the woman-servant spoke first as she hustled by the assassin, carrying a very
heavy-looking trunk.

If you dont mind dear, just have a seat in the kitchenenter the open door over there, and make a left and its just
down that short flight of stairs the woman said in between puffs for air.

Celaena instinctively followed the woman towards the house, eager to get away from the trees and its denizens. She
liked the sound of the womans voiceit was cheery and proper and made her think of warm, thick bread with hot,
rich soup on a chilly day

If youll just give me a moment, the woman continued, Ill bring you out something nice and hotits been raining
on and off all evening and I suspect that traveling in it has not been pleasant! The woman chuckled to herself and
entered the house, the assassin entering behind her.

It was warmly lit, and she could easily tell that it was the servants section of the house by the old whitewashed stone
floors and walls and the common furniture. The woman made a right, passing through a door that obviously led to the
nicer sections of the house, and Celaena, following the womans instructions, turned left.

The kitchen was old and large, with an arched stone fireplace on one wall and a long wooden table that filled the
center of the room. From a hanging rack above the table dangled pots and pans and bouquets of dried herbs (which
gave the kitchen a rather pleasant smell). There were some pots simmering over the dwindling fire, and an ancient
black teakettle was beginning to throw a tantrum.

Celaena looked blankly at the hissing kettle, wondering if she should take if off of the fire. It was really beginning to
make a racket

She put down her sack on the wooden table and gingerly approached the open fire.

If she touched the kettle, itd burn her hands off!

The kettle continued to scream; and one of the pots beside it began to overflow withsomething.

Celaena clenched her teeth nervously and looked on helplessly as the pot and kettle began to have a fit that would
surely wake up everyone in the house.
Her head snapped to the right as she heard the sound of a door opening and closing. She found herself staring at a
back door of sorts, the kind that was able to open from the top half, bottom half, or both. Celaena normally found
these doors to be adorable and quaint, but when nothing was going through them and it was the dead of the night
and there was an avenue of haunted trees a hundred yards awayShe found it to be almost terrifying.

She turned to look at the other two doorways, but neither of them had doorshad she heard a door opening in
another part of the house? She strained her ears to listen and found that if it had been in another section of the
chateau, it would have been barely audible. Celaena turned back towards the barn-like door and stared at it
uncomfortably. It had been opened and closed. Maybe it was just another servant

It could have been her imagination, but as a log on the fire crackled and broke open with a shower of sparks, she
heard a distinctive giggle burst from the fireplace and then felt something push past her ankles as all of the pots that
had been hanging over the open fire swung wildly, banging into each other and spilling their contents.

Startled and frightened, she staggered back towards the table, her eyes furiously scanning the floor, but she saw
nothing. Celaena put her hand over her heart, which was now beating at a breakneck speed, and was about to bolt
from the room and insist on being brought back to Port Moselian when the woman from before walked into the door,
all smiles and cheerfulness.

She was an old womanher braided hair was like quicksilverand her tan, wrinkled face was warm and inviting. Her
brown eyes, like the Minister of Trasiens, were unclouded by age, but did not possess his distinctive spark of quick wit
and cunning.

The woman paused when she saw Celaena, her brows instantly knitting together in concern. Whats wrong? You look
as pale as a ghost!

Embarrassed, Celaena turned slightly and pointed silently at the still-swaying pots, then at the door, the bottom half
of which was now slightly open. Whatever had come in was now long gone.

The womans face crinkled into a smile. Ah, nothing to worry about! Just a little bit of kitchen mischief! Dont be
alarmedit wont hurt you! Things like that happen from time to time, especially when theres someone new around.
She winked at Celaena and pulled a heavy mitt out of her apron, then proceeding to take the angry pots off of the
fire.

Have a seat, the woman said from the fireplace, pointing with her spare hand at the table. Celaena obeyed and took
a seat at the head of the table, looking around the room once again.

Kitchen mischief? What the Hell is that? Some sort of supernatural hellion?

The servant woman stood up from the fire and walked over towards the counter (which was dangerously near the ajar
door) and set the kettle on the wooden surface, muttering something under her breath. Celaena felt inclined to tell the
woman that the wood was sure to burn and scar if she put hot metal on it like that, but she kept her mouth shut,
realizing that this woman had probably been doing this for more years than she herself had been alive.

She awkwardly watched the old woman tinker around the counter area, extracting bowls and cups from cabinets and
pouring things into them. She didnt know whether or not she should offer her help, but before she had the time to
work up the courage to ask, a cup of tea, a bowl of soup, and two slices of thick bread were in front of her and the old
woman was seated on the long bench beside her at the table.

Eat up! Im so sorry for the long wait, but Madam brought home more luggage than we had expected, so it naturally
took a little longer to bring all of that up to her rooms and get back here. The old woman smiled again, wiping her
hands on her apron. My name is Leighanna. Since Celaena had, by this time, taken a bite of the bread and was in
the process of chewing, the woman continued.

We expected that the Baroness would bring home more than just one! You certainly werent what I was expecting
either!

Celaena raised an eyebrow, still chewing.

Is that a bad thing?

Oh, dont take it the wrong way! Its just thatyoure soso pretty!

Celaena choked on her food, trying not to laugh. The earnest surprise in the Leighannas voice was almost as amusing
as her comment.

See, when I first saw you out in the dark, I thought that you were a noble lady friend of the Baroness! But then when
I noticed that you were soaked through and looked a bittired and sore, I realized that you probably were the new
hired help that the Baroness had gone to Port Moselian to get!

By this time, Celaena had finished chewing. Are you and those two others the only servants here? she asked
politely, looking around.

Leighanna blinked. Three servants? In this house? Good Mother, no! We have at least seven or eightI can never
keep track of the barn lads, they seem to come and go as they please! The woman laughed to herself.

Celaena took a spoonful of the soup and blew on it to cool it off. So everyone else is asleep I take it?

The woman shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink. I would assume so. Luca and Stephaenya may be up, you know
how young folks are, but I think most of them are asleep. Dont worry though, youll meet them all in the morning,
Miss

Elentulyai, she said casually. My name is Elentulyai Hamel.

Leighanna smiled sheepishly. Youll have to write that one down for me.

Celaena smiled. Its all right, I know its unusual. She finished off her first piece of bread. So, she said, not
bothering to finish chewing, how long have you been working here?

Leighanna shook her head. Too long. Ive only stayed because she paused, looking Celaena in the eye, because,
wellyou know how it is when you want to leave a place but the people keep you behind

Dorian

Yes, Celaena said quietly, I know what its like.

The old womans eyes grew wide for a second. Oh! I didnt mean to upset you! I know youve just come from some
placeyou must be missing your friends and family terribly! Oh, oh, its just that sometimes my mouth runs away
with

Celaena shook her head and laughed lightly. It was so bizarre to have someone be so considerate of your feelings

Its nothing to be worried about, I can assure you, Celaena said. It didnt upset me in the least. She smiled warmly
at Leighanna. Honestly, Im not as sensitive as you make me out to be! It takes a lot more than that to get me
upset! If this woman thought that Celaena was a pushover, she had another thing coming to her

Eager to prove herself after being judged so wrongly, Celaena looked Leighanna square in the eye. Do you need me
to do anything? Like clean or cook or something like that?

Leighanna looked surprised. Right now?

No, in a week. Yes.

Why would you ever do anything like that at this hour?

Because in Adarlan the servants worked around the clock.

Leighanna cocked her head to the side. Youre from Adarlan?

Would there be a problem if I were? Ive worked there for the pasttwo years. Two years, is that right? Is that what
I told the Baroness? But I was born in Trasien.

So youre not even from this continent?

Will you hate me if Im not? No, this is my first time on these shores.

There was a moment of silencea pause in conversation when Celaena was sure that Leighanna would react
negatively. Instead, the woman burst out laughing. That explains a lot! Your accent, your reaction to the little bout of
kitchen trouble! No wonder you looked so foreign and scared when I came in here!

Scared? I looked scared? How embarrassing!

Leighanna stood up from the table, still laughing. Come with meuh, Elentulyai, is it? Yes, come with me and Ill give
you a temporary place to sleepIm afraid the hay loft in the barn will have to do tonightthe extra bed in the attic
hasnt been set up yet.

Celaena drained her soup and took a swift sip of her tea, grabbing her sack as she stood up.

Youve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow! Youll need all the rest you can afford! Should you need anything, the
other servants and I sleep in the small cottage to the left of the barnwe would have you stay with us, but Im afraid
there isnt any room. Youll just have to stay withWell, youll meet everyone in the morning, I dont want to go about
confusing you at such an hour, especially when everything here must seem so strangeCome along then, this way!

Following Leighanna out of the kitchen, through the haunted door, Celaena darkly wondered if there was any thing
called Hay Mischief lurking in the barn. Hopefully, shed make it through the night sleeping in a place that was as
unprotected as a hayloft

The hayloft was positioned and built in such a way that at dawns first light, the blazing rays of sun burst through the
cracks and open spaces of the barn, lighting up the entire building like a sunroom.

Naturally, Celaena Sardothien didnt even notice. She had slept through the entire night as soundly as a rock, and
continued to do so through the dawn. It wasnt until something sharp and cold poked her ribs that she began to
awaken, but even then she didnt bother to find out what was incessantly trying to dig itself into her side

Hello! What have we here?

Celaena opened an eye to sound of the distinct male voice and for a joyous moment thought that she was back in
Adarlan. Then predatory defense kicked in when she realized where she was and that the young male standing above
her was not Dorian DeHavilliard, but some hay-tossing farm boy.

What the Hell dyou think youre doing? she growled, crawling backward to the far side of the hayloft.

I should like to ask the same of you, he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. You must
be the new girl. He held out his broad, calloused hand. Im Lucajust your average farm hand, prince-in-disguise.

Celaena raised an eyebrow and gingerly shook his hand. It was so earlyHer body was sore from sleeping on hay all
night and she was sure that she didnt smell too wonderful either.

Well, actually, the lad continued, Im more like a knight-in-disguiseYou know, just waiting for a chance to get out
of here and prove my worth in the world

Celaena rubbed her eyes. Arent you a bit old for make-believe? she asked sourly, turning her attention to her sore
ribs.

Luca scowled. Ill have you know that many men dont even become knights until theyve reached the age of thirty!

Are you even a squire?

No.
Thats sad, she said, rising to her feet and brushing herself off. Youre, what, sixteen? Fifteen? Say, was it you who
was poking and prodding me just now with something?

Luca frowned. I assumed that you were a stubborn piece of hay.

Well maybe you should be more cautious the next timeI could have been gutted by that thing!

I came up here because I was being cautious. Its your fault for sleeping so close to the edge anyway.

Pardon me for never before having the pleasure of sleeping in a hay loft.

Luca shook his head and began to climb down the ladder. You know, he said as he went down, Im not surprised
that youre from Adarlan.

Who said Im from Adarlan? she called over the edge.

Leighanna, he said bluntly.

I suppose that she forgot to tell you that I was sleeping up here!

Well, um, no. She told me loud and clear, he with a mischievous grin; and before she could hurl herself on him, he
had dashed out of the barn.

Minutes later, Celaena had assembled herself and was in the process of going back into the chateau. In the light, it
wasnt nearly as impressive as it had been in the darkit was slightly shabby and worn, its crme-colored walls slowly
chipping away, but Celaena found its charm in its age. Around its edges, vines of ivy climbed upwards, reaching with
green fingers towards the third-floor of the house.

Upon approaching the door, Celaena found its top half open and peered inside. She found Leighanna and a young
woman seated at the table inside, casually talking as they chopped up vegetables and meat for what appeared to be
the mid-day meal.

Celaena cleared her throat, unsure of how to undo the latch to open up the bottom half of the door. Both women
looked up at her with raised eyebrows.

She gave them a helpless look, flushing with embarrassment. The...uh, the doorI cant

Oh! The latch is justYes, right there! Just lift it up and shove it hard to the right! Leighanna said, resuming her
cutting. The young woman kept on looking at Celaena. She was prettyher doe eyes and soft brown hair gave her the
appearance of having an innocent and gentle temperament. However, Celaena was alarmed by the caution and wary
look that she found lurking in the young womans eyes.

Dropping her gaze, Celaena fiddled with the latch for a moment or two more and finally gave updeciding to climb
over the door instead.

This isElentulyai Hamel, correct? Leighanna said. Youre going to have to remind me until I get it right.

Celaena nodded her head and extended her hand to the young woman. Yes, my name is Elentulyai Hamel.

Stephaenya, the young woman said taking her hand and shaking it. Welcome to WendlynLeighanna said that you
were from Adarlan She had a quiet, gentle voice that reflected the softness of her features. She couldnt have been
more than fifteen.

Celaena released Stephaenyas hand and looked around the food-covered table.

Can I help with anything? she offered, looking down at her clothes with a frown. She wasnt really dressed like
anyone else hereshe was still wearing her fine pants and shirt, though they were a little dirty.
How lovely of you to offer dear, Leighanna said with a smileCelaena couldnt tell if the woman was being sarcastic.
The woman seemed too nice to be sarcastic, but she could easily have a cynical, sharp underside that she hadnt
shown last night

You can do the dishes in the sinkthats all for now. After that, Stephaenya will give you the grand tour.

Celaena gave Stephaenya a weak smile and headed towards the large stone basins that made up the sink in front of
the window.

She lifted the lever that appeared to release water from whatever water system they had, but nothing came out.
Puzzled, Celaena dropped it and lifted it up again, expecting the water to flow.

Youyou have to pump it, Stephaenya said softly.

Pump it? Celaena turned around and gave her a quizzical look. The girl blushed. Celaena felt awkwardly stupid.

Lift it up and down rapidly about forty times, Stephaenya said, looking down at the table.

Irritated that such a simple thing as running water required hard labor, Celaena pumped up the system. She had
taken so much for granted at the palace.

When she had been washing the dishes left from breakfast for about fifteen minutes, another person entered the
kitchen.

The girl had a strange air about hershe looked to be slightly disheveled, but there was a kind of wildness around her
that made Celaena stare. The young womans clear blue eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere, yet when they turned
to Celaenas face, they stared at her with alarming focus.

It was startling how much they looked alike. Both of them had golden blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and faces that
were so similarly shaped and colored that Celaena could have sworn, had she not been an only child, that they were
sisters. But while Celaena had a timeless, cultured beauty, the strange young woman possessed a feral quality that
resembled that of Anuksun Ytger.

They stared at each other for a moment, regarding their nearly identical, yet immensely different faces.

Oddly enough, the young woman then turned, breaking her piercing stare, and pulled something out of her pocket,
placing it on the table. Celaena looked with disgust and horror at what the girl had produced.

Jacques died this morning while he was dressing, said the girl sadly, stroking the mouses brown fur. Celaena tried
hard to not to look as disgusted as she felt. The mouses head hung in the wrong direction, but what she found to be
the most disturbing were the tangled limbs that had obviously been forced into the tattered red overcoat.

It was so strange to see a woman who was clearly the same age as her do something like this. Was this girl mentally
troubled?

Leighanna and Stephaenya smiled kindly at the strange young woman. Im sure that hes gone to a better place,
Cindrillion, said Leighanna.

Cindrillion.

Yes, well, Im sure that Gus will be disappointed to lose his new friendGus was counting on him to teach him how
to stay away from the cat, Cindrillion said mournfully. Was Gus another animal? Wasnt it the name of the man in
Port Moselian?

Gus isnt that much of an unusual name, idiot. Its probably just some pet of hersa live one, hopefully.

She looked at the faces of Leighanna and Stephaenya and then at the strange young woman in front of her,
immediately beginning to pick up on the way that Cindrillion needed to be treatedwith patience, kindness, and
understanding. She couldnt be sarcastic or cynical with this one This was the kind of girl that needed to be
sheltered, protected But why was she working as a servant?
Cindrillion, Leighanna said with gentle strength, say hello to our new guest, Elen

Elentulyai Hamel, Celaena interrupted, not wanting the old woman to mess up the accent again. Its very nice to
meet you, Cindrillion, Celaena said, extending her hand.

Cindrillion looked down at Celaenas extended hand, ignoring the gesture of greeting. Pretty ring, she said softly, her
eyes wide. Was it a gift?

Patience, understanding, kindness

Yes, Celaena said, examining the ring with a sad smile. It was a gift.

Dorian

As randomly as Cindrillions comment had come, her interests shifting as swiftly as the wind. The young woman
picked up the dead, half-clothed mouse and smiled at all three women.

Stepmother says Ive got to feed the animals nowthen wash the floors and the terrace. Cindrillion let out a childish
sigh. But I can tell that its going to be hot todayStephaenya, have you seen Luca today? I need him to take a look
at Jacquesjust to make sure that he didnt die from some diseaseI dont want to lose Gus and the others. She
lovingly caressed the fur of the dead animal. Celaena didnt know how to react.

Stephaenya blushed. No, not yethe hasnt come in for a snack or a drink today.

Cindrillion smiled warmly. The food smells wonderful today. Try to keep the hellions out of the kitchen; theyll be
wanting to taste the food with their sticky little fingers.

Cindrillion unlatched the kitchen door and picked up a loose bag of what appeared to be grain. As she walked out, she
stopped halfway through the doorway and leaned backwards to look at Celaena.

Welcome, Elentulyai Hamel, she said with perfect pronunciation and clarity and then she vanished through the door.

Stunned at the young womans behavior, Celaena looked out the window and watched Cindrillion head towards the
barn and stables, calling to the animals and humming an incoherent tune to herself.

Things in Wendlyn, though they appeared to be less miserable than in Adarlan, were certainly just as complex.
Needing to find something that didnt make her feel foolish or alien or awkward, Celaena returned to washing the
dishes.

PART TWO : CHAPTER 3

Celaena Sardothien looked down at the dress she was wearing and frowned. It was nothing like the finery she had
worn at the palace. In fact, it was the polar opposite. It was brown and plain and made her feel like a sack of
potatoes. True, she was grateful that the dress didnt have a corset of any kind, but she just felt ugly in this dress.

She knew it was wrong to complainshe should be thanking Stephaenya and Leighanna for taking time out of their
day to get her appropriate servants clothingbut she couldnt help but wish they had gotten her something that
wasnt so

Ugly.

She took the back of the dress and pulled it tight, trying to create some kind of a waist for herself. It was too bad that
she didnt know how to sew

Sighing, she released the fabric of the dress and picked up the large white apron that lay on the back of a nearby
chair, pulling it over her head. Tying the strings of the apron in the back as tightly as she could to give the dress the
illusion of having a drawn waist, and she quickly tied her blond hair back with a ribbon.

Celaena looked in the mirror again. The face was the same, but the dress
What would Dorian say if he saw this?

Celaena shifted around on her feet uncomfortably. The wool was scratchy. Too scratchy. In the back of her mind, she
had a feeling that the two women had given her this dress just to make her miserable. She didnt even know where
they had gotten it.

Probably the barn.

She couldnt wear this! She could just wear her expensive, flattering clothes from Adarlan

And I suppose those glass slippers while Im at it.

Celaena narrowed her eyes and chewed on her lower lip. Would it be rude if she asked for something nicer?
Something that wasnt so coarse and revolting?

Youve become so spoiled! Why, not even a year ago you would have killed for a bath and a piece of clothing that
didnt have more than one layer of dirt on it!

Celaena scratched one of her irritated arms.

It was too hot to be wearing wool! She clenched her fists in frustration.

Stop being so superficial!

The base of her neck was itching incessantly from the chafing wool. She was hot, and uncomfortable, and

In an outburst of fury, she scratched at her body furiously and then turned her anger on the dress, grabbing it at the
neckline and pulling hard.

She would have succeeded in ripping the dress in two if a bell hadnt begun ringing in the corner of the room. It was a
little bell, but the sound it produced was so teeth-gratingly loud and demanding that she felt tempted to tear it off of
the wall.

She didnt really know what the bell meantdid it mean that she was being summoned? Or someone else? And by
whom? There were four bells hanging on the wall, but there were no labels to describe their purpose. Within ten
seconds, the bell beside the first one began to ring furiously as well.

Celaena looked around the room, examining the small bed and cracked washbasin. She hadnt really noticed the place
in which she had been dressing for the past ten minutes; she had been too busy fretting about her own physical
appearance to take in any others.

When her eyes fell upon the windowsill and bed table, they went wide with shock and repulsion.

There were cages upon cages of trapped birds and micesome alive, some deaddressed in clothes fit for a tiny doll.
Some of the birds had broken wings, and most of the mice seemed to be missing a limb or two or were utterly tangled
and incapable of moving because of their restrictive clothing.

This was Cindrillions room.

Celaena felt very uneasy, but she couldnt stop staring at the poor creatures. She noticed that most of the cages
werent really cages at all, but small, oval mousetraps. Celaena assumed that most of the mice had probably been
found within the traps by Cindrillion and tortured for only the gods knew how long.

Should she set them free? Celaena looked at the miserable state they were in and realized that they wouldnt be able
to survive in the outside world. For some odd reason, it reminded her of the court in Adarlan.

The bells were still ringing. Her temper lashing out, Celaena approached the frenzied instruments, grabbed onto the
two long pieces of string attached to them, and pulled down hard. The users on the other end were clearly surprised
to have the string ripped out of their hands, and the bells were silenced.
Letting out a sigh, Celaena turned her back and was about to approach the mirror once more when both the bells
began to ring simultaneously once more. If someone needed something so badly, they could get it themselves.

Celaena slipped her slender feet into the plain black shoes that had been given to her and looked at herself in the
mirror once more, scratching her chest.

She looked so awful.

I cant get into the palace looking like this. Dont forget that while you need to get adjusted, youve got to remember
why youre here! Keep one eye and one ear open at all times

Ignoring the bells, Celaena left the room, heading down from the attic in which Cindrillions room was situated. She
came out of the tower (or so it seemed to be) and strode across the grand hallway, her feet falling softly on the dark
carpet. Leighanna had given her a tour an hour beforegiving her instructions and details and warnings about each
room in the house. Celaena hadnt remembered half of them, but she was sure to

Ive been ringing that bell for ten minutes!

A door had swung open behind her and Celaena turned to see a slightly large, really unpleasant-looking young woman
standing in the hallway in front of her open room.

Oh the girl said, her eyes going slightly wide before they returned to their squint, I thought that you were
Cindrillion. It makes no difference though. There are clothes in my room that I need washing and mending. I want
them back in an hour, understood?

Celaena stared at the young woman coolly. She had dark hair; flabby, blemished cheeks that were only accentuated
by her oily stub of a nose; a weak chin that seemed inclineddespite how the young woman tried to stick it outto
rest in a puddle of fat; and small dark eyes that were nearly covered by overgrown eyebrows that drifted towards
each other, eager to merge completely.

Celaena had never seen such a hideous person.

Dont just stand there! Get in there and do as youre told! Her voice had a combination of a whine and an arrogant
tone that she sounded slightly like a high-pitched donkey braying.

Celaena fought hard not to smile as she walked (squeezed, rather) past the young woman and entered into her room.
Celaena looked at the clothing-coated floor and raised an eyebrow as the young woman reentered the room.

Which of these do you need cleaned? she asked her quietly.

The woman plopped down on her oversized bed and examined her pudgy hands. All of them.

In an hour?

Dont talk back to me! Ill have you fired for being so insolent.

Youre just being impractical, thats all. Celaena didnt have time to deal with someone like this. Even if she was
supposed to be a servant.

The young woman turned a shade of maroon and glared at Celaena, her small eyes blazing with fury. How dare you
say that to me? Celaena was now trying really hard not to smilewith a red face, the young woman resembled a
raging bull. You will take all of these clothes and have them mended and cleaned within the hour or Ill see to it that
you have a lashing!

Celaena raised her eyebrows at the young woman and stood perfectly still. Was this the kind of pig shed have to
serve for the next few months? It might have been one thing if the young woman had been older, but to be ordered
around by someone who wasnt even twenty

Youre a servant, youre supposed to do these things.

Ill call my mother in here if you do not obey my orders immedi

Nothing is worth this!

Do it yourself, Celaena snarled and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

As she strode down the grand staircase, Celaena began to instantly regret what she had just done. She could lose her
job for thatshe could end up on the streets and be starving and

The fat cow deserved it.

She was supposed to be a servant, but the problem was that she didnt know the first thing about being a servant.
She didnt know if she could take the verbal or physical abuse. As she headed towards the kitchen, Celaena scolded
herself for not considering these things. But then again

When she had been in Port Moselian, she hadnt expected to have to serve someone like the Baroness and her family.
She had assumed that they would be somewhat like the people she had seen in the seaside city

She had guessed wrong. Were all the nobles in Wendlyn like this? Celaena felt slightly foolish for believing that the
aristocracy in Wendlyn would be different. Perhaps it would be good for Adarlan to toss them all out of their
positions

As she entered the kitchen, she heard the voices of Stephaenya, Leighanna, and what she assumed was Luca.
Celaena looked down at her dress, self-conscious once more. She slowed her step, pausing before the door, and
smoothed her dress out, trying to look as dignified as possible in a dress that tried everything to make her look
revolting.

Stephaenya was discussing something with Luca, her soft voice rising and falling as she spoke. The young woman
stood at the large wooden table with her back to Celaena, cutting and preparing what appeared to be lunch.
Leighanna was beside her, placing the food on ornate silver trays; and in front of the two women, Luca was idly
leaning against the table, staring up at Stephaenya, his head resting against his hand. His dark brown hair and tan
skin were coated in sweat, and it was apparent that he had come inside to take a break from working in the fields. As
she walked in, Celaena got a good look at the expression on his face, and she suppressed a smile. It was sweet seeing
the two young lovers.

No matter how darling it was to see them, she felt a need to ignore them as much as possiblethe dress sapped at
her self-confidence, and she felt a need to hide from their eyes as much as possible. What Celaena didnt realize is
that even with the dress on, her beauty could not be quenched.

Dashing her hopes of hiding in the shadows, the noon light was dazzling; it shone in from the fields with such force
that Celaena was momentarily blinded. The sun reflected against her golden hair so radiantly that she seemed like the
sun gods daughter herself, her pale skin glowing and her blue eyes blazing like blue diamonds.

Lucas head slipped from his hand as he saw her enter the kitchen and his eyes grew wide. Stephaenya, who was still
talking, noticed his shift in attention, and her smile faded as she looked over her shoulder and saw Celaena enter the
kitchen like a newborn goddess.

Celaena silently strode over to the sink, where she picked up a few dirty dishes and began washing them, writhing in
self-disgust and misery. She hated feeling so repulsive. She didnt feel like talking to them. She imagined that they
were staring at her out of disgustthey had to be. How could Dorian DeHavilliard ever have loved someone who was
nothing more than a fancy dress?

She scrubbed at the dishes angrily, splashing soapy water on her apron. Celaena was so focused on venting her
shame and anger on the dishes that she didnt notice Luca approaching her.

I never knew that the dishes could be so intriguing, he said with a smile, leaning casually against the counter. Water
flew up from the sink and splashed his front. He looked down at his damp white shirt, already see-though with sweat,
and raised his eyebrows. Something wrong, my valiant lady? he crooned dramatically. Though youre dressed in
rags, you have an air of queenly gra

Celaena silenced him with a dirty look.

Youre not still sore about this morning, are you? He asked lightly, running a hand through his hair and grinning.

Celaena scrubbed harder at the dishes. He was teasing her!

She didnt want to be here anymore. She wanted to be back in Adarlan. She didnt want to have to deal with wearing
an ugly dress and serving an oversized excuse for a human being and have to do menial work and

Celaena slammed a dish down on the drying rack so hard that it nearly cracked. Luca straightened up, his young face
contorting in confusion and worry.

Im sorry if I offended you, he said quickly, it was just thatWell, you look so angry and sad and, you know
Hasnt anyone ever tried to cheer you up?

Celaena didnt respond.

Luca, shes had a long journey, Leighanna said gently. Im sure that she needs time to adjustdont hinder her
with your antics.

Antics? he said incredulously. I was just

Im sure you were, Leighanna interrupted. Elentulyai, why dont you walk around the property a while? It might be
nice to get to know the countryside, especially after living in a place for a while

The pal Luca began, leaning towards Celaena. But Leighanna interrupted him.

Theres a lovely path through the woods, just walk past the fields and you cant miss it.

Celaena turned around and stared at the old woman. I feel fine.

You dont need any help withwith whatever youre doing? she grumbled, wiping her hands on her apron.

Leighanna smiled at her warmly. Weve gotten on without you for years nowwe can manage. Despite the kind-
hearted meaning that her words were supposed to have, Celaena was wounded by them.

Go on now, dont worry about the dishes!

Why was this woman so keen on getting her out of the kitchen? First the dress, now this

Celaena gave Leighanna a weighing look and walked out of the kitchen, finding the double door much easier to open
from the other side.

Be careful of her, Luca, Leighanna said when the young woman was long out of earshot. She worked in Renaril
directly for the prince, or so the Baroness tells me. Who knows what horrors she might have seenor come to
expect.

I doubt that shes

Just dont push her, Luca. If she doesnt feel like talking, dont talk to her.

If you treat her like shes a criminal, of course shes going to be like that! Luca snapped, his brown eyes filled with
frustration.

Leighanna is just trying to warn you, Luca, Stephaenya said softly, staring down at the food she was preparing.
Theres no need to get angry.

The youth stared hard at the young woman. I dont understand why both of you insist on making her feel unwanted
and foreign. Its not like either of you to exclude someone who just
Were not excluding her, Leighanna said calmly, but her eyes shone with worry. Its just that there seems to be
somethingoff with her. She seemsshe just resemblesI dont know how to put it, but theres something about her,
something animal-like. The way she looks at you, the way she holds her head, the way she walksIt just seems too
tooI dont know. She reminds me of a mountain cat: beautiful and graceful, but something to be wary of.

Luca was silent for a moment, and his following words were soft: But doesnt that interest you? Stephaenya looked
up suddenly from her food and stared at the young man, a blush creeping into her cheeks. But Luca took no notice of
her; he was staring out the half-open door that the strange woman had just passed through.

Has she met Cindrillion? he said, his voice still quiet.

Yes, said Leighanna. The old woman was studying Luca, hoping that the new addition to their work force would not
cause a rift between them.

What happened? he asked.

Cindrillion studied her for a while, asked her a few questions, and then welcomed her. They both resemble each other
so much thatthat it was like they were sisters.

Howd Elentulyai react?

Thats the problem, said Leighanna. She didnt react. They stared at each other for a moment, but nothing
happened. Not at least until Cindrillion looked at her ring and asked about itthen she got sad and looked awfully
lonely and What has any of this to do with what we were talking about, boy?

If she treated Cindrillion respectfully, then you shouldnt be worrying about anything. Clearly, if something were
wrong with her, shed have said or done something, but since she treated her normally She can understand human
emotions just as well as we can. Neither women spoke. You just dont trust her because shes from Adarlan, thats
all, said Luca scornfully.

They are trying to invade us, Stephaenya said with as much contempt in her voice as he. For all we know, she
could be a murderer.

I doubt that a woman who looks like her could be

She worked for the Crown Prince of Adarlan, Stephaenya interrupted. Just because shes beautiful doesnt mean
that she isnt capable of doing terrible things. Luca stared at her, taken aback. It wasnt often that Stephaenya
scolded him like this.

Shes just looking for asy--

Enough, both of you, Leighanna growled. Lets just let the subject alone. Whether shes here for asylum or to kill us
all, lets just give her the benefit of the doubt, shall we? I dont want any arguments tearing apart this household.
Gods know we get enough yelling around here.

Almost on cue, a bell began to ring on the far wall, followed by a high-pitched shriek that resembled a call for lunch.
They all exchanged looks and let out a sigh.

Just wait until theyre both married and out of the house, Leighanna said through clenched teeth. Stephaenya picked
up the silver platters and frowned deeply as she moved to exit the kitchen.

But with their awful looks, what man will ever take them? Luca said, biting into an apple. You couldnt pay me all
the gold in the world to get within five feet of either of them. Wretched creatures they are. Just wretched.

Stephaenya smiled and blushed again, heading towards the screams for food. Leighanna, gathering the food scraps
that lay on the table, tossed them into the large bucket that lay beside the sink and ruffled Lucas brown hair.

Get back to work before we end up even further in debt, she said, giving him a shove towards the door. Luca
grinned at her.
Just wait, Leighannawhen Im a knightOh, theyll be sorry. He hopped over the bottom half of the door and
jogged off towards the fields, tossing the remains of his apple to the side.

And what would you do? Leighanna called out the door to his back. Challenge them to a joust and skewer them?

The old woman heard his laugh and saw him turn towards her, bowing dramatically. There isnt a lance in the world
that could pierce through their hides! He waved her off with a flourish of his hand and disappeared into the fields of
grain.

Chuckling to herself, Leighanna returned to the kitchen and began to prepare for supper.

Celaena Sardothien walked idly along the dirt road that bordered the fields, her new shoes crunching against the
dusty pebbles. It was a beautiful estatethe golden fields of grain contrasted wonderfully against the stark emerald
green of the forest and the bruised purple of the sweeping mountains. It felt as if she was in a paintingeverything
seemed so perfect and orderly and it all seemed to come together like magick.

It didnt seem possible for someone to live in a place like this and end up wicked and fat. There was so much to do
and so many things to see and experience and

Celaena kicked at the dirt, displeased. Trasien had once been like thisthough there had been fewer mountains, and
she could remember that their color had never been so bright. Celaena loved the mountains here; with their dwarfing
grace and posture, they made everything seem so insignificant and small. They stood as testaments of time, silent
witnesses to the changing of seasons and empires. They were eternal, powerfulthey slumbered while the rest of the
world existed, yet always feeling the evolution of the years.

She felt as if these mountains existed within the depths of her hearttheir spirit, their fortitude It was impossible to
think of them and not feel a tremor of recognition, a feeling that she had known them since the birth of time itself.
She wanted to run down their steep slopes and lay in the grassy meadows that were placed secretly on their peaks.
She wanted to stand at the top of one of the mountains, on all the mountains, and feel the wind blow through her hair
and rustle her skirt, and touch the strong, ancient earth beneath her feet, and the endless sky above her head, and
just exist for a while as a part of the mountain--until her body was covered with vines and her heart was a part of the
stone, and there was no real reason for living anymore but to just be and be.

She smiled to herself at these thoughts, imagining how ridiculous it would look for her to stand upon a mountain top
for hours, her arms spread out and head tipped back; but yet another part of her still ached when she looked towards
those purple peaks, wondering, wishing

Oy! Elentulyai!

Celaena turned her head towards the fields and saw a tan, muscled arm waving at her. It was Luca. Celaena stopped
walking and watched the young man bound towards her, scythe in hand. Her first reaction was to attack himafter
all, he was running at her with an enormous weaponbut she then realized that it was just a farm tool and that he
was procrastinating from his work. A young man like him shouldnt be working in grain fields anyway.

You certainly walk slowly, he panted as he trotted up to her.

I was enjoying the atmospherethat is, until now, she said dryly.

Ah, dont be such a grouch! I dont quite understand why youre so sour to everyoneall weve done is try to help
you!

Celaena looked down at her dress and then up at Luca with raised eyebrows. You call this dress help? She couldnt
help itshe was really fed up with wearing the wretched thing and it was hot and it was itchy and

He rolled his brown eyes. Make yourself another if you dont like it.

She stared at him, dumbstruck. Make one? I cant even mend my own clothes.

It was his turn to look surprised. And youre a servant? What exactly did you do in that palace anyway? Play games
with the prince all day?
Pretty close to it, actually. Celaena frowned. I was a companion of sorts.

Oh, you mean his whore?

Her eyes bulged out of her head. What? she stammered, her cheeks bursting into flames. Iwhy you awful cretin!
How dare you say such a thing to me! Why, I could turn you into a soup if I felt like it!

He grinned roguishly at her. Lets see: you cant sew, you cant cleanId say that you probably cant cook too. So, I
think that the odds of me turning into a course of any sort are very unlikely.

She gaped at him, wondering whether to laugh or to hit him across the face.

Goddess above, dont you ever laugh? That was a joke. He leaned against his scythe like a cane. You knowa joke?
Ha ha ha? Ring any bells in ther--

I know what a joke is! she barked, bunching her hands into fists.

You clearly dont because I dont hear you laughing.

You offended me!

Joke, jokeit was a joke!

HA HA HA. Happy?

Not yet.

She gritted her teeth and kicked at his scythe, knocking it out from beneath him and causing him to lose his balance.
He staggered around, looking like a fool, and a smile crept to her lips.

When he regained his posture, he glared at her. Youre the kind of person who has to do mean things to be amused!
he said incredulously, but with a whine in his voice.

Dont be such a push over, she said dismissively, grinning at the pun, and began to walk once more. You can take a
little abuse, cant you? she asked over her shoulder. Or do all Wendlyn boys act like little girls?

She heard a dismayed intake of breath and then a growl. Ill have you know that I could whip you any day! I just
choose not to becausebecause youre a girl!

And what would you attack me with? Your farming tools? she said, skipping a few steps. I could split your face open
with my fingernails!

I have a good supply of he began to yell towards her, still standing in his spot.

Dont waste your breath! she called to him, getting further away. Youre beginning to make a bad impression on
me! she grinned broadly, swinging her arms as she walked down the road. He was rightmaking him look like an
idiot had cheered her up.

She heard a few curses and the scuffle of boots on the road, and when she looked back, Luca had disappeared into
the golden grain.

She walked into the forest without second thought, passing by the two broken stone effigies, but as soon as she had
entered beneath the shaded green canopy, she felt a shift in the wind that startled her. The air was damp and cool,
and the slight breeze brushed her arms made her hair stand on-end. There was something in this forestsomething
that made her feel uneasy and yet familiar with it.

The assassin, uncomfortable and yet curious, stared up at the canopy, watching the sunlight shift and dance in the
tree leaves. Birds chirped anonymously in the branches; and there was an energy in the air that ignited some strange
feeling in the back of her mind, something that made her more aware, more open
It was as if someone were whispering in her ear so softly that she couldnt hear, but she still knew that they were
speaking; it was as if someone were standing behind her and she couldnt see them, but she knew that they were
there. It was a bizarre and arcane sensation.

A wind blew past her, pulling at her hair and ankles, trying to push her deeper into the forest. She looked back over
her shoulder, at the sunny road she had left behind, and then looked down at the dark path ahead of her. There were
splotches of sunlight along the continuing dirt path, but it was difficult for her to make out most of the way. Was this
road used frequently? Her trained eyes looked along the path for signs of usage, but she found noneit was as if she
were the first in a thousand years to walk down this lonely road; and she knew that the footprints she would leave
behind would guide others through the dark of the woods.

She stood for a while, contemplating and observing, measuring the shadows of nature against the stark light of the
open world behind her, and suddenly, the forest did not seem so alarming anymore.

Celaena found that the shade of the woods was soothing to her sensesher eyes, away from the harsh sunlight,
relaxed and widened. She could see things much more clearly now. Her ears, already open, seemed to expand
themselves even morecatching even what seemed to be the breathing of trees.

Something moved in the bushes to her right, and her head whipped in its direction before the sound had finished
echoing throughout the forest. Since when had her senses been so acute? Her breath caught in her throat and she
froze as she saw the maker of the noise.

A white stag stood in the bramble that grew at the base of a few trees, his regal head poised and his dark eyes staring
into the very depths of her soul. She had only seen a wild stag once before, back when it had been an emblem that
had meant something to her, to her country

She remembered the royal crest of Trasien; she remembered the two rearing stags that seemed to be reaching for the
golden crown that hovered in the air above them; she remembered the burning flame, the symbol of eternity, which
blazed beneath the crown like a newly born star.

Both creatures, human and animal, stared at each other, unmoving.

Shes a wild one, isnt she?

Yes, wild, but very clever. Almost too clever. Id like to see her in ten years when shes fully maturedwhen shes
reached her full power.

Do you think shell exceed her parents?

Before she was born, we all knew that shed pass them some dayshe has to, coming from such a bloodline.

Shes shown that much potential already?

A laugh. I caught her hurling dishes across the courtyard this morning.

Oh?

And I dont mean by hand.

Silence. Do you mean to tell me that

I almost throttled her when I saw her doing ittwenty plates smashed against the wallbut I was too amazed to do
anything but dunk her in the fountain a few times before making her put all of them back together again. She tried to
insist that she was going to do that anyway, but after the mess that she left the last time she experimented, I knew
that she was planning on making me clean them up.

And she is only an eighth of what her great-grandmother was? Why doesnt her mother have more power?

Sometimes the right combination of blood can cause a trait to come back in full commodityas long as she keeps up
her lessons, shell never lose what she has now.
But I thought her gifts were innate?

They are, but if they are left unattended, they may become dormant. If they arent used and trained properly, they
might manifest themselves in other ways. If she stopped her lessons today and trained to become a tailor, I suspect
that in ten years, her gifts would have integrated itself into her trade so strongly that she would be the finest tailor in
the world.

You make her seem like a god. Who has the right to possess such potential?

There was silence for a long moment.

She does.

Why?

Because, on the night of her birth, an oracle made a prophecy. The oracle said that she will live to see the fall and
rise of our kingdom; that her path would be of both the night and the day; and that her choice will save or damn us
all.

So?

There are dark times ahead for Trasien. Only someone with the gifts that she already wields will be able to guide us
through.

What of your king? Where will he be throughout all of this?

My lords business is none of yours.

I only meant that

The flame will go out. The stags will die.

Celaena blinked, surprised that such a memory, long since hidden in the recesses of her mind, had come back. She
had overheard that conversation when she was very young. It had been between two men: one, a stranger; the
other, someone she had loved very much.

The stag stayed where it was, watching her. She felt a sudden urge to speak to itto say something or do something,
but fear of it bounding away held her mouth and limbs still.

Hes beautiful, isnt he?

Celaena nearly jumped into the air. Cindrillion had appeared beside herso silently and stealthily that the assassin,
even with her heightened hearing and senses, hadnt detected her arrival.

Where did you come from? she asked softly, returning her eyes to the stag. She would have liked to have been
alone

I was wandering in the woods, the young woman said loftily, taking a place beside the assassin.

I didnt see you down the path, Celaena said indifferently.

I dont use the path.

Celaena turned her head to look at Cindrillion. The strange girl was staring at the stag unblinkingly; and Celaena
couldnt make out what was going on behind her blue eyes.

Have you ever seen one before? Cindrillion asked softly.

Yes, Celaena said, looking back at the beast. Long ago.

I didnt know that they had stags in Adarlan.

I didnt see the stag in AdarlanI saw it in my home countryIn Trasien.

It was Cindrillions turn to look at Celaena. I heard that once Trasien was much like Wendlyn.

A hand seemed to grab around her heart and squeeze tightly. It was, she said in a strained voice. Until Adarlan
came.

Cindrillion cocked her head to one side. You hate Adarlan, dont you?

The oracle said that she will live to see the fall and rise of our kingdom; that her path would be of both the night and
the day; and that her choice will save or damn us all. The memory resounded through her brain.

Yes, Celaena said, her voice barely above a whisper. The stag seemed to glow in the dim light. Yes, I hate
Adarlan.

Even the Crown Prince?

Celaena turned her head so quickly towards the young woman that Cindrillion looked startled for a moment.

The Crown Prince is not his father, she said darkly. She looked back at the stag.

Cindrillion shrugged her thin shoulders and sighed. I heard that he is very handsome. Leighanna told me that you
worked for him. What is he like?

Her heart hurt so badly that her throat tightened and she felt like vomiting.

Hes, she tried to say, but it came out as a gasp. She blinked rapidly, clearing her eyes of the mist that had formed
in their corners. Hes

Dorian

His face burned in her mind so clearly that she wanted to close her eyes so that she could stare at him for hours and
hours. Her hand grasped the ring that he had given her, her soft fingers digging into the sharp cut of the stone.

She saw the color of his skin and the cut of his dark hair and the hue of his eyes and the muscles of his body and his
perfect nose and brow and his beautiful, beautiful face

If she tried hard enough, she could smell his scent and feel the strength of his body

A loneliness iced through her veins, and strangled her.

Dont think about him

He loves me

She had never wanted anything so badly in her life than, in that moment, to see his face.

The Crown Prince in Wendlyn is also supposed to be very handsome, Cindrillion continued. Celaena didnt know
whether or not Cindrillion was aware of her companions anguish.

Ive never seen him either, the girl said, looking at the stag again. It was bizarre that the animal hadnt moved yet.
But I like to imagine what hes likewhich is why I asked you what the Crown Prince of Adarlan is likeperhaps all
handsome princes are the same.

Dont be so stupid. Do you think some bloke here could compare to

Remember who youre speaking to

The girls uneducated fantasies had snapped Celaena out of her lonely longing momentarily. How anyone could
presume that all princes were the same because they were handsome was really a bit daft

I think that theyre both very different, Celaena said as gently as she could. They both rule very different countries,
so their personalities are sure to be different. I mean, you and I are both good-looking, Celaena looked at the
tattered and ugly attire that they were both wearing and added in, when were not dressed like this. Would it be
correct to say that you and I were the same person?

Cindrillion bit on her lip, and looked as if she were thinking about it. No, she said finally. But you and I do look a lot
alike.

Celaena felt like smacking her forehead out of frustration. Couldnt she understand that Dorian was much better than
any pretty-faced prince around here? Either this young woman was a complete dolt or she was just

Just something completely different.

Hes being awfully shy, Cindrillion said, changing the subject as randomly as the wind shifts direction.

Celaena assumed that she was talking about the stag. It was a marvelous creatureit was so regal and powerful and
graceful that it seemed almost surreal in its appearance.

They say, said Cindrillion in a husky voice, as if she were telling Celaena a great secret that the Queen sometimes
rides on his back across the plains.

Celaena found it hard to believe that a queen, let alone an aged woman, could ride something as wild and
unattainable as the stag. The Queen of Wendlyn? she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cindrillion tipped her head back and laughed. Great Mother, no! Cindrillion laughed again, and Celaena was sure
that the stag would bound off, but the beast remained where it had been standing for the past quarter of an hour.
When she had stopped laughing, Cindrillion shook her head sadly.

The Queen, the young woman insisted again.

Celaena stretched her neck forward and widened her eyes slightly, her hands gesturing for Cindrillion to elaborate.

I keep on forgetting that youre from Adarlan, Cindrillion said with a click of her tongue. Leighanna told me that I
should let you learn things for yourself, but I dont see how someone from Adarlan could learn that things that we
know.

You sound like youre all in a cult, Celaena said dryly.

Cindrillion giggled. No! Far from it!

The assassin was still amazed that the stag was still there. Its gaze was beginning to get a bit unnervingperhaps it
was waiting for something?

Fool, its an animalits not like it has an agenda.

Do you think that in Adarlan, a stag would ever do this? Cindrillion asked seriously, the clarity in her words startling
Celaena.

They cantthere are barely any left; and the ones that have survived wont come within ten miles of a road or
path.

Number has nothing to do with it. Hes standing here because of what he sees in mebecause of what he sees in
you?

Can he tell that Im an assassin?

Hes just an animal, Celaena said, her voice a bit sharp.

Not in this forest. Not in this country.

The girls cryptic words were beginning to annoy her. Perhaps this was just another fantasylike the mice in dresses.

Though this girl seemed to require love and attention and respect, at that moment, Celaena wanted nothing more
than to walk out of the forest. She was sick of the stupid animal and sick of the arcane words of the deranged girl and
she just wanted to be somewhere normal, somewhere that didnt drag up old, tattered memories with the barest
touch of sensation.

Celaena turned from both girl and beast and began to walk out of the forest, deciding that doing the dishes would be
better than being lectured on how handsome the Crown Prince of Wendlyn was or how special and mysterious the
game animals were in this country or on some queen that spent her time riding on such creatures

Celaena retreated out of the woods, following her footsteps.

He senses a great pain in you. Cindrillion said, loud enough to stop Celaena in her tracks.

The assassin turned towards the young woman again.

Thats why he is here. He felt your pain. I know this because Her voice grew sad and mournful. Because he comes
to me as well. He senses my pain, and he tries to ease it with his presence. Its the only way he knows how. The first
time I met him was the day my father died. That was the first day I stopped using the pathit all didnt matter any
more to me. He found me, lost and dirty, somewhere in here, and he comforted me and then showed me the way out.
He is my very old friendand he is very wise.

Cindrillion reminded her so much of Anuksun that it was painful to listen to her speak.

But what was more alarming was the fact that the young woman seemed to be in painit hadnt occurred to the
assassin that the servant girl could be in as much anguish as she was in at the moment; that she felt alone and
miserable as well

Youreunhappy? Celaena asked cautiously. Her assumptions about everyone being alive and joyful in Wendlyn
were beginning to appear to be very wrong.

Sometimes, Cindrillion said with a hardness in her voice that was unnerving. My stepmother and sisters hate me
and have reduced me to thiswouldnt you be?

Celaenas mouth dropped open slightly. You mean thatthat your stepmother is the baroness? And shes treating you
like a servant? How does she get away with doing something like that? A mindless rage was beginning to build in her
chest at this outrage.

Cindrillion looked up at the canopy. Pretty day, isnt it? Her eyes seemed to have gone to a distant place.

Didnt you hear what I said? Celaena asked incredulously. How can you let them treat you like that? Isnt there a
law or something that can

I think that I should be getting back to the chateau nowthe baroness will be wanting something else

Dont try to avoid what Im telling you! You have the power to stop your pain, so why dont you just

Cindrillions chest heaved and a noise that sounded like a mix between a gasp and a whimper of fear burst from her
throat. Celaena stopped talking, dumbfounded and scared as the young woman covered her eyes, her hands grabbing
onto either side of her head, and rocked back and forth on her heels.

It was semi-childish behavior, but

Images of enslaved criminals and peasants flashed through her mind. She had seen those unable to cope with the
horrors of reality act like this in the salt mines of Endovier. When the dark and whippings had become too much, they
retreated into themselves like a snake into an underground cave, and didnt come out of it until they were left alone.
When pushed in such a state, they sometimes broke

Celaena suppressed a shudder as she relived the times that she had seen men and women lose all control and attack
themselves and othersSo much blood and screaming and

The stag took a step forward, the first movement it had made since it had appeared. Cindrillion stopped rocking and
unveiled her eyes, looking at the gentle animal. It bowed its head and then raised it againand if Celaena hadnt been
so cynical about the animals mental capabilities, she would have sworn that it was instructing the young woman to
leave.

Cindrillion nodded and looked back at Celaena again and smiled, her eyes a bit glazed.

All that she wanted to do right now was wash dishes This girl scared hershe didnt know what to do with herself

I forgot to tell you, Cindrillion said as if nothing had happened. Luca brought up an old extra bed to my roomwell
be sharing it from now on.

At that moment, a hayloft had never seemed so appealing. She couldnt sleep in a room next to someone who was so
close to breakingShe didnt know what to do when she started to act up. She didnt want the girl to end up dead

But when Celaena saw the hope and joy in the young womans eyes, another thought burst into her mind, one that
made that extra bed some like a golden ticket.

What if she could make Cindrillion better?

Celaena smiled at Cindrillion and held out her hand, beckoning for the girl to leave with her. Cindrillion skipped up to
the assassin, waving good-bye to the stag, and linked arms with her, the terrors of a minute ago forgotten.

What if she could help Cindrillion conquer whatever sought to destroy herwhat if she could protect Cindrillion from
it? There were some wounds that could never be healed, but Cindrillion seemed so normal and bright at certain times
the assassin was sure that something could be done. A window of opportunity began to open in her mind.

She saw another imageone that had almost destroyed her, but now it seemed to push her newfound quest.

A golden arrow, protruding from a mangled body.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

As they walked out of the woods, Celaena looked over her shoulder at the stag, which was still standing in its place,
watching them go.

She could have sworn that it was smiling at her.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 4

Dorian DeHavilliard looked through the iron bars of the dank cell and suppressed a sadistic smile. The dungeon was
dark and damp and had such a foul smell that it had taken him a few minutes to settle his stomach. The moans and
screams of those kept within these miserable catacombs were like Hells choirthe hissing and groaning of weapons
of torture beat the air like fell drums.

But there was one cell that was silent.

Dorian DeHavilliard stared down at Kaltain Rompiers humbled and broken body and snorted with contempt. Her hair
was gone and her face was now painted with blood and dirt. She lay curled in a fetal position on a filthy pile of moldy
hay, clothed in shredded and vile rags.

He had seen to it that she be treated like this.

Each time he thought about it, about how she had tried to have Celaena killed and in the process of doing so had
assassinated Anuksun Ytger, he grew so violently angry that he didnt know what to do with himself. He wanted to kill
her, to bestow upon her every wound that she had inflicted upon Celaena Sardothien during their duel, to make her
feel the terror that Anuksun Ytger had felt while dying, but self-control had its claws latched firmly in his mind and
body.

He tried to be content in knowing that Duke Perringtonn and his father could do nothing about Kaltains situation
because of the uproar that would result if they managed to lessen her punishment; but the young prince was still not
satisfied. News of Kaltain Rompiers mad obsession for the crown prince had spread like wildfire throughout the
countryher family was disgraced and she would be lucky to get off with anything less than a life sentence of labor in
the salt mines of Endovier.

It made him feel heartsick to think about how, just three years ago, another woman had stood before a jury and tried
her case and had ended up in the dreaded mines. Despite his pleading, his father hadnt allowed him to attend
Celaena Sardothiens trial. The Crown Prince of Adarlan had been eager to see if the rumors were true, if Celaena
Sardothien was really a woman, and what she was like. But he never got the chance to even sneak into the
courtroom. It took less than an hour for them to declare her guilty and sentence her to a lifetime of brutal labor in the
mines. She didnt even get to stand in her own defense.

How funny it was, he thought while staring into Kaltains cell, that three years later, the notorious criminal would be
not only free, but the woman he loved.

He thought about her every waking minute; and each night his dreams were saturated with her. He kept her hound,
Fleetfoot, in his rooms, taking comfort in the canines presence.

Naturally, he hadnt heard from Celaena, but he liked to dream that hed awaken one morning or turn a corner or look
into the distance and see her coming towards him, her task in Wendlyn successful. He had planned and imagined
what their first meeting would be like after she returned: shed walk off of her ship and stand before him and smile,
her eyes beaming and her hair shining like spun gold, and hed stare at her for a moment before shed rush into his
arms and hed hold her until the world around them became dust and entered into infinity

And then, after all that was done, hed kiss her and propose to her and do something along those lines. But it was the
holding that seemed to matter the most to himhe wanted to feel her in his arms, he wanted to relive those brief
moments when he had held her before she had left, when her scent had filled his nose and he had felt the rise and fall
of her chest against his. He just wanted to make sure that she was there, in reality, for the rest of his life.

Often, hed be writing a diplomatic letter or law or something that didnt matter to him, and hed begin to write her
name over and over again on spare pieces of paper, changing her last name to fit his, adding in a few titles to make
her seem like royalty

In general, the name that sounded best to him was Queen Celaena DeHavilliard of Trasien. Dorian didnt know a lot
about her past, save for the snippets that she had told him about her life as an assassin, but he distinctly
remembered her saying that she was from Trasienhe hoped.

Hed even made a royal heading for them: King Dorian and Queen Celaena, but he hoped to make it into something
more fancy.

Compared to the womanizer that he had been several months ago, Dorian DeHavilliard was a completely different
man. It disturbed him that he had changed so much; and often he was afraid that he was becoming one of those
weak-willed, sappy men that spent their lives pining after women who didnt care for them or toting on the ones that
did, but each time he thought about her, it didnt really seem to matter anymore.

In fact, nothing seemed to concern him anymore except for her well-being and their future. Hed frequently find
himself daydreaming about her while in court or attending one of his fathers councils. The ladies of the court were in
a serious state of alarm over his condition, though some dared to believe that they were the ones occupying his
thoughts. True, his mother would not stop talking about how her son badly needed a wife, but it was foolish of her to
believe that anyone in her court would suit him. Only a few, mainly men, remembered the woman with whom he had
attended the Yulemas balland most of them had also noticed her disappearance. But aside from the small number
who knew whom the Crown Prince was moping over, only two knew the real identity of the young woman that he
lovedChaol Wydrael and his cousin, Roland DeHavilliard.

Lets make that three, shall we?

Dorian banged the pommel of his sword against the iron bars of Kaltains cell loud enough to wake her.

Get up, he snarled at her as she slowly raised her head.

Her dark eyes brightened with hope as she saw him standing outside her cell and she crawled on hands and knees to
the door, reaching through the bars to grab onto one of his feet.

Your highness, oh your highness, I

Keep your filthy hands off of me, he growled, shaking off her grasping fingers with a savage kick. Im not here to
give you any pity or relief, Kaltain.

She withdrew her hand and curled into a pitiful ball, her head touching the cold stone floor. He thought he heard her
sobbing. But all he saw before his eyes were the mutilated body of Anuksun Ytger and the bleeding and bruised face
of Celaena Sardothien. Rage ran through him.

You deserve all of this, he said gruffly. You deserve to be in this sewer.

She whimpered, fueling his anger. I meant only to

You killed a princess and you almost killed my future wife.

Kaltains head snapped up and her dark eyes flashed with the fear and suppressed rage that she had pent up inside of
her these past few weeks. Wife? she said shrilly. Her? Shes an assassin, shes a commoner, shes wicked and
disgusting and

Would you like me to remove your tongue, Kaltain? A cold, dark aggression was flooding his veins. His hand itched
to draw his dagger and slice her tongue out of her mouth.

No, no, your highness, she groveled, you are good and kind and handsome and wiseI was only trying to suggest
that perhaps someone more suitable could be found for someone of your prestige.

A sneer contorted his face. Youre disgusting, he spat. You make me sick, Kaltain.

Highnesshighness pleaseI love you

The only one you love is yourself, you foul slut.

Kaltain covered her mouth and began to sob again.

With sadistic pleasure, he watched her cry, basking in her agony. He remembered the pain that Celaena had felt when
Anuksun had died; he remembered her tears and the endless cold that had followed; he remembered the week when
Adarlans assassin had risen once more.

Im going to see to it, Kaltain, he purred, squatting down to where she lay crumpled on the floor, that you get no
less than you deserve. Im going to make sure that you hang. He paused, letting the words sink in. But Im going to
wait, he whispered wickedly, until Celaena gets back for them to do it. Im going to make them wait for her to
return so that she can see you die too.

Kaltain was muttering incomprehensible jibberish, shaking her head back and forth, clawing at the ground with broken
fingers.

Your trial is next week, he said bluntly, rising to his feet, but I can keep you down here as long as I wish.

She blabbered something about Perringtonn and Dorian laughed contemptuously.

Do you honestly think that he can save you now? he asked her. You confessed before the councilmen of this
country to killing Anuksun Ytger and attempting to murder Celaena SardothienDuke Perringtonns power does not
stretch so far as to erase hard evidence and a confession.
Kaltain sobbed something about Celaena being a criminal and he felt an urge to reach through the bars and strangle
her. He wanted to break her into a thousand pieceshe wanted to smash in her face and crack open her head and
snap every bone in her body and hear her screaming all the while.

He had never hated someone so much in his entire life. He hated her even more because she was crying and looked
so pathetic and miserable.

Staring at her, Dorian remembered the Yulemas ball. He remembered Celaenas drunken banter and laughterhe
remembered when he kissed herthe only time he had kissed her.

He despised himself for not kissing her, really kissing her, before she left. He could have done it at the dockshe had
wanted to kiss her, to pour out his heart to her, but fear had kept his mouth and body still. He had come so close to
telling her though

But she had silenced him and said those words that had echoed in his mind nonstop since her departure: I know.

He couldnt cease questioning whether or not she really knew how he feltespecially whether or not she returned
those same feelings. When he had held her (which he also regretted not doing more of), her pain and sorrow seemed
just as real and aching as his. But maybe she just thought of him as a friend

Highness, Highness, please, Kaltain moaned, resembling a writhing worm.

The anger returned in full force. I hate you, he spat at her, not knowing what else to say that might hurt her
verbally.

Please, please, mercy

You mindless bitch, you dont deserve mercy. I should kill you right here, right now, he snarled, his eyes widening in
fury. I should reach through these bars and snap your neck in two

Kaltains head snapped up in terror and she hurled herself to the far side of the cell, her broken and tired body moving
as awkwardly as a crab.

A bizarre wind was beginning to build in the airless prison. He didnt care. Maybe his magick would splatter her all
over the walls.

But then he thought about what would happen if the guards saw what their prince had donefrom ten feet away.
Theyd know that something was amiss, that there was something abnormal about him

And then his father would find out.

Aside from his fears that Celaena would die or never return, his greatest nightmare was that his father would discover
the ancient power that had awakened in his blood. As a young child, he knew that his father had feared and hated
magickhe had done everything in his power to destroy the superstitions and traditions involving the archaic beliefs,
and it had worked. He would be furious and terrified that such power and energy still existedin his own household
and bloodline nonetheless. Why had it awakened in his blood? And why now? Those were questions to answer later.

Dorian let out a loud hiss from between his teeth and stared at Kaltain with utter disgust and hatred.

She was shaking like a leaf against the far stone wall of the cell, looking at him in utmost fear. She began blabbering
again about nothing, and her voice irritated him even more.

Shut up, he said roughly. Im not going to kill you now. I already told you that Im going to wait. He leaned
against the bars and looked sideways at her with an arrogant sneer. How would you like to attend my wedding and
then die, Kaltain? Itd be nice, wouldnt it? Maybe you could dance for usdo red-hot iron shoes sound nice to you?
They sound wonderful to me. Come to think of it, why dont you tell me your shoe size so that I can have them made
as soon as possible?

Kaltain began screaming. Thankfully, they were in the sort of place where screaming was a common thing, so no one
paid her any heed.
He began to laugh. Her screams were like music to his ears.

He even felt slightly better. Good-bye Kaltain, he crooned, and walked away from her cell, listening with sadistic
pleasure as the young woman continued to scream.

Dorian was about to go up the stairs out of the dungeon when he heard his fathers voice and anothersDuke
Perringtonnas they descended down the long, bloody staircase.

For reasons he didnt yet fully understand, he dashed behind a large stone pillar and tuned into their conversation.

theyre making remarkable progress. They might even break through the lines in less than a month.

You mean theyve found a way past the reefs?

He heard his fathers laugh. Forgive me for not telling you sooner, my old friendbut it turns out that there is one
town, not too far from Port Moselian, that seems to be more accessible than the rest. But I cant have Wendlyn
discovering that weve found out their secret, can we? Oh, no. To keep them from finding out, Ive continued to play
the blinded conqueror and have pretended to keep the main battle in the inaccessible parts of Wendlyn. For the past
few weeks, our soldiers have been secretly pouring into the small town unnoticedthey go under cover of night,
swimming to shore after taking small rowboats about two miles from the fleet. Theyve infiltrated the town,
pretending to be merchants and peasants, and upon our signalwhen weve found a way to get past the thin line of
coral surrounding the townwell launch an attack that will gain us access into Wendlyn.

Genius, your highnesspure genius! How many men are in the town now?

Last I heard, they numbered three-hundred. Each night, however, their numbers are increasing. It turns out we
didnt really need the assassin after all.

Dorians insides lurched. If they conquered Wendlyn

He couldnt reach her, he couldnt warn herIf they conquered Wendlyn, hed have to find a way to get her away from
his father before could kill her or throw her back in the mines. It seemed impossible. Maybe he could take a boat out
and

Out of curiosity, what is the name of this unfortunate town?

There was a long, wicked silence. Dorian heard the two men reach the bottom of the stairs and thankfully turn away
from his pillar. As they disappeared into another part of the dungeon, he heard his fathers distant reply.

Peregrinno.

Chaol Wydrael took a sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow at the Crown Prince of Adarlan. Theyve really found a
way to break into Wendlyn? he asked. It seemed impossiblewithin two months they could have Wendlyn under
their control. What would become of Celaena if that happened?

Dorian smiled arrogantly, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back into the fainting couch. Its about
damn time, isnt it? I mean, after years of fighting and millions worth of gold wasted, its really about time that they
found some way to break througheven if it is rather devious and shameful. He paused and turned his head to look
at Chaol, his smile faltering. You dont think that shes near Peregrinno, do you?

Chaol shook his head and sighed. I dont knowprobably not, considering that her business involves the King of
Wendlynmeaning that shes probably staying in the capitalpretty far away from Peregrinno and the coast.

His friends obsession with Celaena Sardothien was bordering on alarming. Chaol felt strongly that the Crown Prince
shouldnt be holding the fate of his country and the fate of an assassin on equal levels. Even if the Crown Prince did
love her. Hed never tell Dorian how he felt on the matterwell, not until Dorian did something completely outrageous
but with each passing day, he felt more and more pressed to express himself. Why, only yesterday had the Crown
Prince blatantly laughed in the face of a court lady when she tried to tell him how ardently she loved him! Chaol had
spent the better part of an hour trying to convince the woman that the Crown Prince was suffering from a very, very
bad case of heir-to-the-kingdom jitters. Which probably was true, but Chaol didnt know for sure.
Dorian closed his eyes. What do you think will happen to her if we invade before she gets her job done?

The Captain of the Guard shrugged. This was an extremely delicate subjectone wrong word and he could find
himself skewered with the Crown Princes sword. Normally, he wouldnt have even considered that his friend would do
that to him, but in the past few weeks, Dorian had been so on-edge that Chaol wasnt sure what hed do if provoked.
Chaol was already dreading the day that Adarlans assassin returned.

Your father will probably be so preoccupied with pillaging Wendlyn that he might just pardon her anyway and let her
go free, he lied, knowing that the King of Adarlan would sooner hang himself than let Celaena Sardothien loose in the
country. The wording of their agreement had been clear: if Celaena Sardothien successfully completed her mission,
then shed be granted her freedom; which meant that if she didnt complete it, even if they invaded Wendlyn and took
over without her help, shed still get tossed back into the mines. Chaol didnt really know how he felt about the
prospect of the assassin returning to Endovier. Part of him was completely against it, yet the other half felt that she
was a criminal and she deserved her punishment.

Yes, I suppose so, Dorian said, extending one of his long arms to reach his glass of wine.

Chaol looked around the Crown Princes study. There were was a large plate of uneaten food lying on his desk, along
with five or six empty wine glasses. Dorian wasnt a heavy drinker, but Chaol was beginning to become worried that
he might turn into one.

I wonder, Dorian said suddenly, sitting up straight, what the Crown Prince of Wendlyn is like.

Chaol gave him a quizzical look.

I met him long ago, Dorian continued, when I was about six or sevenI remember that thought he was some sort
of cousin because we looked so much alike. Though, he paused, I remember that his eyes were very darksolid
blackbut they seemed to be filled with something else

What has this got to do with anything? Chaol asked, looking around the room for more empty wine glasses.

Nothing, Dorian said, running a hand through his hair. I was just thinking aloud. I wonder if my father will have the
Crown Prince and his father killed when we invadeprobably, right?

Chaol frowned. Probably, he said with a bit of an edge in his voice. He hated it when Dorian talked about nothing
especially when Dorian had drunk too much wine.

I almost wish that I had gotten to know the Crown Prince of Wendlynit would be interesting to know another
person who is in a very similar situation to mine. I wonder what he does in his spare time and whether or not he likes
being the Crown Prince. Maybe Celaena will meet him and tell me about him when she gets back. Dorians eyes
suddenly narrowed. You dont suppose that hes more handsome than I am, do you?

Chaol crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Im not going to answer that, he said irritably.

Why not?

Because its not an appropriate question to ask me. Ask one of the court ladies.

Im not on speaking terms with them anymore, Dorian said with a twisted smile.

Then youll just have to wallow in self-doubt.

Dorian cocked his head to one side. You know who youre beginning to sound like?

Who? Certainly not my father.

No, even better. Celaena.

Chaols jaw almost dropped down in surprise. Ime? he sputtered. I do not sound like that woman!
Dorian laughed. Its hard to admit that shes rubbed off on you, isnt it? But I think its trueyou were never this
sassy before she came to the palace.

Chaol wanted to hit his friend across the face. Adarlans assassin had not rubbed off on him! Well, technically, she
had, but in an intellectual sense

A blush rose to his cheeks as he swiftly remembered that nightwhat had he been thinking? True, she was beautiful,
but so were half of the ladies of the court! She was an assassin, and the deadliest one at that! He was going insane
to have slept with Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans assassin

Whatre you blushing about? Dorian didnt sound so amused anymore.

Nothing, Chaol replied snappishly.

Idiot! Now hes going to find out!

You never blush unless youve done something foolish. Dorians voice was becoming calmer and therefore more
dangerous with each word.

Im embarrassed that you think shes rubbed off on me, he lied again.

Whats so bad about that? the Crown Prince asked quietly. A small, freezing breeze caressed Chaols cheek and the
Captain of the Guard turned his head to see if any of the windows in the tower were opennone were. Maybe there
was a draft or something

He looked in the Crown Princes eyes and saw only sapphire ice. The hair on his arms stood stand on-end. He had
never seen Dorian like this before. There was something in that mysterious breeze that was so similar to the frozen
blue of Dorians eyes that for a second he thought

Chaols throat clenched with shame as he cut off the thought that tried to rise to his conscious mind. Dorian was just
lonely and upset, that was all

Theres nothing bad about it, Chaol said as cheerfully as he could, praying to the gods above that Dorians eyes
would return to normal. Its justwell, your father wouldnt be very happy if he began to recognize some of her traits
in us. Since when had he been so good at lying?

My father can burn in Hell, Dorian snarled. I dont care what he thinks.

But you will care what he thinks ofand what he does to Celaena Sardothien. Hell blame her for it and will punish

I dont care what my father thinks.

The temperature in the room felt like it had dropped twenty degrees. It was cold in the princes rooms to begin with,
but nowChaol almost swore that he could see his own breath.

Its awfully cold in here, isnt it? The Captain of the Guard asked, eager to change the subject. And no windows are
open too! Perhaps theres a draftbut nonetheless, its a bit bizarre, dont you think?

As quickly as it had come, the ice in Dorians eyes melted and his he snapped to look at the shut windows. The
temperature in the room went back to normal immediately.

Chaols insides turned over. There was something very odd about this, something that he didnt want to think about
yet he couldnt stop himself from doing so. The coldness and the breeze seemed to be linked to the Crown Princes
behavior

I didnt notice anything, Dorian said casually, reclining into the cushion of the sofa once again.

They were silent for an awkward moment before Dorian spoke again. Maybe I should go hunting tomorrowor are all
of the game in the park dead and cooked by now?
If you like, I could check, Chaol offered.

Dorian answered yes, and moved onto another shallow topic. They talked for an hour more before the Captain of the
Guard bid the Crown Prince goodnight, speaking of trivial things that neither of them cared much about.

However, throughout their entire conversation and long into the depths of the night, Chaol couldnt stop thinking
about the endless cold that had filled the Crown Princes room and the ice that had frozen over his eyes. It scared him
he had never seen Dorian like thatand Chaol spent many sleepless hours wondering just how much Adarlans
assassin had rubbed off on Dorian DeHavilliard.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 5

She ran her hands up and down the bricks of the stone wall of the building, testing, measuring, weighing, and
calculating with the barest of touches. She looked up towards the light that streamed from the window fifty feet above
the ground and felt the cracks between the blocks of stone with the tips of her fingers. She knew that she could scale
this wall with no trouble at all.

Strategically placing one hand on the wall in front of her, and the other a few feet higher, Adarlans assassin placed a
soft-soled foot on the base of the wall and began to climb.

Moving like a predatory demon from Hell, she crawled up the wall, slowly placing one hand in front of the other and
pushing upwards with her feet. It didnt bother her that no human should have been able to climb up a smooth stone
wall; climbing things like this had always been as easy as walking to the assassin. Foot by foot, she neared the
window, gliding like a shadow towards the light. The guards stationed around the base of the house didnt even notice
her.

Sliding smoothly as a snake in the grass, she reached the window and squatted on the large windowsill, listening for
any noises that might present her with an uncomfortable situation.

Silence.

Carefully placing a foot down on the wooden floor, the assassin kept her head cocked to the side, waiting for any sign
of life. Still nothing. She fully dismounted the windowsill and straightened, a smug smile appearing on her face as she
began to take in her surroundings.

Aside from the window, there were no other exits. Surprisingly, her smile didnt fadeshe had been in worse than this
and escaped without any trouble. The only problem that now faced her was finding the bastards room.

Adarlans assassin moved like a mountain cat across the room, head moving from side to side, her muscles tense with
the prospect of her prey being near, sleeping and unaware of the danger that approached with every passing second.

She opened the door to the hallway silently, keeping hidden in the shadows, making it seem that the door had opened
of its own free will. She was about to open it further when a cackle of laughter exploded in the hallwaya womans
voiceand the assassin retreated back into the room. She listened to the woman as she passed by, her face
darkening with malice as she heard the conversation that the woman was having with her companion.

It doesnt really matter if we use diplomacrasy or whatever its calledtheyre all just a bunch of savages who should
be thanking us for helping their economy and taking over. Its not as though they could use the land properly
anyway!

They may be savages, her male companion saidhe was undoubtedly the man she was supposed to killbut
theyre savages with weapons and lots and lots of anger.

The woman laughed dismissively. If they object, just toss them in the salt mines of EndovierGods above know that
we need more workers there! Honestly, Huntion, youd think from listening to this conversation that I should be the
one in the kings council!

Their voices were shut off as a door closed down the hallway. Adarlans assassin fought the reckless rage that was
beginning to boil in the pit of her stomach, convincing herself that as long as she kept a cool head until she got into
that room, she could torture the damn woman as long as she liked without causing a single guard to notice. But still
Another country slipping under the belt of Adarlan.

A ferocious snarl appeared on her lips despite her attempt to calm herself. How many more countries would bow to
Adarlans sword?

She took a moment more to calm her temper, closing her eyes and breathing deeply out of her nose. When she felt
steady once more, she subtly opened the door and slipped through it, her eyes taking in her surroundings. There was
a large window at either end of the hallwayeasy exit routes. There were no guards in sighteven though there had
been whispered warnings that Adarlans assassin had come to feed at the watering hole called Renaril.

On silent feet, she crept down the hallway and placed an ear to the door that led to the chamber where the politician
and his whore had entered. A wicked grin contorted her features as she heard the blatant noises of lovemaking. This
was going to be as easy as killing an animal caught in a trap.

Applying the correct amount of pressure to open the door silently, she turned the doorknob and slipped into the room.
With an instinctive flick of her wrist, a long silver dagger appeared in her hand and glittered dangerously in the
candlelit room.

The politician and the woman were still going at it, unaware that Death had just appeared through the doorway.

Gliding like a ghost, she neared the bed, and a second, smaller dagger appearing in her handa second weapon for a
second corpse.

Another country destroyed.

She paused a second, letting her hatred and disgust sink in so that she could fully enjoy killing the couple. But it was
a second too many.

The woman, though almost flattened beneath the thrusting man, looked over his shoulder and let out a blood-curdling
scream as she saw the assassin standing at the base of the bed, with daggers in hand and a terrible gleam in her
eyes.

Reflexively, Adarlans assassin threw the first dagger deep into the mans back before he could react, and it buried
itself into his heart with a pleasant thud. Despite her excellent aim, the man collapsed onto the screaming woman,
trapping her and yet protecting her from the deadly second dagger of the assassin. Her screams continued.

Knowing that it would be a matter of seconds before the guards appeared, the assassin leapt forward, grabbing the
first dagger out of the mans back as she hurled him off of the woman. The woman instinctively raised her hands to
shield herself, but with a singing slash of a dagger, the womans throat burst open, spraying her lifes blood over the
front of the assassins black attire.

She was dead. They were both dead. Mission accomplished. The gold was as good as hers.

She rushed towards the nearest window in the room, throwing it wide open as the sound of soldiers appeared from
the hallway. She was halfway out of the window as five men burst into the room, and the assassin, knowing that to
attempt to jump without a landing cushion could be fatal, whipped back into the room, poised to fight.

They rushed towards her with a few cries of fury, and before they could catch her movement, she leapt upward
towards the chandelier that hung over their heads and grabbed onto the gold bars, swinging over them with ease.
She landed behind them and buried her smaller dagger in the neck of the closest guard, causing him to fall forward
onto his fellow guardsdead. A free guard charged and made a swipe at her belly with his sword, which she deftly
avoided by rolling to the side and slashing open his insides as she passed. Two down, three to go.

By now the other three were coming at her, furious and frightened. Her leg swung upward in an arc and she broke the
neck of the closest guard with a kick of her foot. Before he reached the ground, she leapt forward slammed into the
guard beside him, digging her dagger into his heart upon collision. Why where these men so slow? Didnt anyone train
them properly? The last remaining guard had barely time to swing his sword before the assassin had taken up the
fallen sword of one of his comrades and rammed it through his body, digging upward and slicing his heart in two.

She smiled darkly as she slid the sword out of the man and let his body fall backwards on the floor. Seven people
killed in less than five minutes. Impressive. Very impressive. This would be something to gloat to Symeth about.
Wouldnt he be jealous when he discovered that she had killed five royal guards in less than two minutes? Oh, the
look on his face

Coming to her senses, the assassin looked out the windowshe could climb down and risk being caught by the guards
below who had been alerted by their fight, or she could jump with a cushion

She weighed the odds while picking up her daggers and concealing them once again; and then picked up the largest
body, and dragged him over to the edge of the window. With a final glance downward, she shoved him out, clinging to
him as they fell. It was only a matter of seconds before they hit the ground, and the assassin, balanced carefully on
top of him, felt a surprised spasm of revulsion as the man was flattened beneath her. The impact of their landing sent
her flying off of him, causing tremors of pain to run through her, but after a quick check, she realized that she hadnt
broken anything.

There was a disgusted cry from behind her, and she whipped around, drawing her daggers once again to find herself
facing two guards. She attacked them before they could react fully, cutting open the throat of the first man, and then
breaking the neck of the second as she leapt over the falling body of the first. Adrenaline pumped in her blood as she
rode the killing-edge, loving the feeling of invincibility and swiftness that came with being an assassin.

A whoosh of a thrown weapon filled the air and she automatically flipped backwards, landing on her hands as her feet
whipped together to catch the hunting knife that had been thrown from an approaching guard. She stood in a C-shape
for a moment, allowing the new guard to pause in awe at the talent of his enemy, and then flipped forward, tossing
the knife into the air as she regained her normal positioning. Without time to think or see, she swiftly sheathed her
smaller dagger and caught the large knife as it fell downward, immediately chucking it back based on sound, rather
than sight, at the guard. She knew that she had hit home when there came a strangled cry and a loud thud.

Then, without waiting a moment further, Adarlans assassin concealed her remaining dagger, bounded towards the
iron gate of the estate, nimbly climbed over it, and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Celaena looked up from the dishes that she was struggling to wash, suddenly aware that her mind had slipped back
into the past. That had been one of the most exciting kills of her life. She loved fighting against the odds, especially
when Adarlan was concerned. How ironic that she was now working for the same people she had once hunted and
slaughtered!

I know that Beltaen is about a week away, Stephaenya was saying to Leighanna as they prepared dinner on the
table behind Celaena, but I just

Beltaen? They still have that here?

Im sure Luca will

Beltaen? she interrupted Leighannas reply, quickly turning around. Youyou celebrate that here? She hadnt seen
or heard of a Spring Festival bonfire for over ten years. Adarlans king had banned any ceremonies like that, claiming
them to be socially detrimental. She had never understood why, but she hadnt bothered to protest. Jumping over
fires had always seemed a bit dangerous to her. True, they still had ceremonies and the occasional ball and firelight
dance or two, but it was just another excuse for the people to drown themselves in alcohol and carnal pleasure.

Leighanna looked surprised. Of course we do. Why wouldnt we?

Celaena shrugged and felt slightly stupid when she said, Its practically banned in Adarlanhardly any real, original
meaning or purpose behind the holiday is intact.

More of a reason for us to celebrate it here, Leighanna said haughtily. Celaena felt her teeth clench at the womans
tone. Still, she tried to keep a casual air to her reply.

Do you still jump over bonfires and dance around?

Only if your legs are working, the old woman replied dryly.

And the aspect of fertility is still incorporated?

More now than ever.

Out of the corner of her eye, Celaena saw Stephaenya blushing deeply.

Sounds like fun, Celaena said with a smirk on her face and returned to washing. After returning from her lengthy
walk, Celaena had found a pile of dishes waiting for her. Cindrillion had scampered off to do whatever her cruel family
had required of her for the day, leaving the assassin to go back to her own chores.

She was busy staring out the window at the setting red sun when there was an angry rustle of dresses and a cry of
dismay.

There! Thats the one! Shes the one who spoke to me like that! Celaena didnt have to turn around to know who
was standing in the doorway.

Why, she looks just like Cindrillion! An incredibly deep voice sounded from the nearest doorway. Celaena rotated her
head to see a tall, gangly brown-haired girl with the longest nose she had ever seen standing beside the cow she had
met earlier. Biting down on her lip, she fought against the urge to laugh. These had to be the most ugly girls in the
country.

Where are my clothes, servant? The fat one bellowed in her whiny voiced.

Celaena drew the soapy butchers knife from the sink and idly cleaned it with a dishrag as she turned to the two girls.
I thought you and I had come to an agreement, the assassin said casually as she leaned against the counter,
running the rag up and down the shiny blade. The girls looked at the knife and then up at the assassin, their red faces
going slightly pale.

You mean to tell me that you havent cleaned them? The fat one exclaimed, horrified.

Celaena shrugged and held up the knife, examining it for blemishes. I told you to do it yourself, she said sweetly,
not taking her eyes off of the blade. She could practically see Leighanna and Stephaenyas gaping mouths and bulging
eyes.

Butbut youre a servant! Youre supposed to do things like that, you daft cow! said the tall one in her deep voice,
and Celaena wondered if the girls massive nose ever got in the way of speaking.

The assassin raised an eyebrow and shifted her eyes from the still-raised blade to the girls and then back. Daft cow?
she said calmly. Me? She hated people like this. People likelike Kaltain Rompier. What evil were these two capable
of? An image of possibility flashed into her mind.

She lowered her knife, years of assassinating reflexes coming into play as she held the blade in a position that could
easily lead to the decapitation of both of the girls. Why, I would think that from looking at the two of you, she was
now stalking towards the sisters with feline grace, that

That dinner is almost ready, so you two should go to the table and wait just a few moments! Stephaenya burst in,
leaping in front of Celaena, blocking her from the sisters. Youll have your clothes by the time you go to bed,
Marghenna, so dont worry! Ill see to it, mistresses! The forced subservient cheer made Celaenas blood boil, but it
also managed to knock her off of the killing-edge.

The two sisters grumbled something about the quality of dinner, and then disappeared with a flourish of silk and
pearls.

Stephaenya turned towards Celaena, her eyes wild with a mix of fear and relief. What in the name of the Goddess
dyou think youre playing at? You cant talk like that to themand you certainly cannot approach them armed with a
butchers knife! What were you going to do just now, stab them both to death?

Possibly.

Celaena looked down at the knife in her hands and suddenly realized how close she had come to doing something that
would have gotten her executed. A feeling of foolishness and shame washed over her. Stephaenya was right.

Lowering her eyes, the assassin shook her head in disbelief. Im sorry, she apologized, I didnt know what I was
doing. She looked over at Leighanna and saw that the old woman looked positively terrified. For the first time since
arriving, she understood how bizarre and frightening it might be for them to have a stranger in the house, especially
one from Adarlan, the enemy country. These were good people, people who didnt understand the cruelty of Adarlan,
people who had never known killing or hatred or a tyrant. While they may understand the snobbery and selfishness of
the upper class, it was nothing compared to the horrors of Adarlan. An explanation was due.

You see, she began, clearing her throat. When I was in Adarlan, I knew a woman, a noble, who was very much like
those sisters. She was conceited and cruel and spoiledand very, very ambitious. Stephaenya moved back to her
place as Celaena continued. Because she was so used to having things go her way, when they didntthat is, when I
got in the wayshe did something very drastic.

Should I tell them everything? She glanced into the eyes of her audience, and knew the painful answer.

She tried to have me killed. But in the process of doing so, she accidentally killed a dear friend of mine. Celaenas
heart tightened and her legs suddenly felt very weak as the memories surged forward. But my friend wasnt just
murdered. She was raped and slaughtered. She heard Stephaenya and Leighanna gasp in dismay. Images and
feelings flooded her mind, trying to take over once again, but the assassin had grown strong in the past few months,
and she kept them at bay. She knew that she had to embrace the pastotherwise it would rule her as ruthlessly as
Adarlan ruled the world.

I wont bother you with gory details, she said softly, but its just that That when those two girls talk to me, when
they talk to any of you like that, Im reminded of that woman back in Adarlan. I she struggled for the words, I
heard them speaking and I wondered what kinds of things they would be capable of doingI wondered if theyd ever
do to you what they did to my friend. I suppose that my old feelings and memories took control, so I acted
aggressively towards them, she finished. I did not mean to frighten youIm truly sorry.

Celaena felt surprisingly relieved and empty after saying that. She had never been very open with strangers, but in
this place Here it somehow felt safe to speak, that these were people who would not blame her for her past, but
judge her for the choices that she was now making. She liked that. She liked feeling like she could talk to somebody.
She had spent the majority of her life feeling as if she couldnt, as if every secret told could result in her death, and
now that she was away from Adarlan, away from the past that haunted her

She looked at Leighanna and Stephaenya and was surprised to see the sympathetic, endearing looks in their eyes.
Then suddenly, Stephaenyas kind gaze faded.

What happened to the woman? the young woman asked quietly, but with silent strength and aggression in her
voice.

What? Celaena asked, taken aback.

Has she been punished? The woman who killed your frienddid the Royal Court kill her?

What? Royal Court? Why would the Royal Court ever do a thing like that?

No

So then she got away? Leighanna joined in, her features narrowing with concern at the possibility of injustice.

No, Celaena said quickly, with a small, twisted smile. She confessed to it, and was thrown in jail. Unfortunately, I
left before her trial was held, but since

The members of the Court didnt execute her immediately? Stephaenya interrupted once again.

Why would they? she replied, genuinely confused.

Stephaenya paused. You mean that the Royal Court doesnt take responsibility for its members actions?

What do you mean, take responsibility?

In Wendlyn, if a member of the Court or anyone else has committed a high crime or misdemeanor, we dont bother
with trials. The Court directly deals with the situation Stephaenya looked at Celaena, who motioned for her to
continue. Those immediately affected by the crime choose the fate of the one who committed it.
Meaning? Celaena said, trying to figure out how this might ever possibly work in Adarlans present society. It felt
familiar thoughshe remembered a system like this, one from when she was

Meaning that the family of your friend would have been allowed to rip the woman into shreds.

Celaenas eyes widened at the thought, and a grin appeared on her face. She was beginning to like Wendlyn more and
more.

What is this? Celaena asked, looking up from her steaming bowl of string-like food. Leighanna chuckled as she
ladled some red-looking sauce over the contents of her bowl.

Its called paestia. Its been around for hundreds of yearsa kind of traditional meal amongst the commoners of
Wendlyn. The sauce on top is a combination of tomatoes with some spices from the garden. She looked at the raised
brow of the young woman. Just eat it.

Celaena picked up her fork and scooped up a bunch of the stuff, watching in dismay as it all slid down back into the
bowl. She tried again, and once more the string-shaped food fell back into the bowl.

It helps if you twirl your fork in it first.

Celaena made a face at Leighanna and twisted her fork around a few times before raising it up out of the bowl. She
smiled smugly at the productat least a few strands had managed to stay on the fork.

Bracing herself, Celaena opened her mouth and placed the paestiainside.It was slightly slippery, she discovered while
chewing, but it had a lovely texture and the sauce

Celaena twisted and shoveled two more mouthfuls of the paestia into her mouth, unable to get enough of the spices
and smells and textures

You eat like a field hand! Leighanna exclaimed, sitting down beside Celaena with her own bowl.

Celaena nodded fervently as she chewed.

If you dont stop to have something to drink, youre

Leighanna didnt need to finish. Celaena dropped her fork mid-bite and grabbed the nearest cup, not caring what was
inside. It felt as if something were squeezing the entrance to her stomach shutshe couldnt breathe! There was too
much paestia in her throat!

She gulped down the contents of the cup, and winced in pain as it forced the paestia into her stomach.

Its delicious, she said once her throat had opened up again. Is it difficult to make?

Only if you cant boil water.

Celaena gave her a look as if to declare that she could, in fact, boil water, though it didnt seem like she could do
anything but wash dishes.

A bell began ringing in the corner of the kitchen, and Celaena raised an eyebrow.

What more can they want? Celaena snarled, shoveling another mouthful of paestia into her mouth. They just had
dinner and dessert and were practically put to bed andshe paused long enough to swallow.

Dont worry about itits just the Lady ringing for her evening tea. I was hoping shed forgotten about it, but
apparentlyshe hasnt. Leighanna groaned as she got to her feet. Ill be back in a few minutes. The old woman
bustled around the kitchen, instantly preparing a tray of tea and crackers before she disappeared up a staircase.
Celaena finished off her paestia and dropped her bowl into the sink, deciding to take a break before cleaning up after
dinner. The sky was dark and dotted with stars, and suddenly she felt a desire to go outside and watch them. It had
been years since she had done something like that.

Hopping over bottom half of the disreputable door, Celaena stared upward as she moved out of the light of the
chateau, taking in the majesty of the night sky. She walked along until she reached the edge of the fields, and took a
seat on the wet grass, clutching her knees to her chest.

Celaena was amazed at how insignificant the vastness of the stars made her feel; it made everythingcountries,
religion, peopleseem so inconsequential. After all, wasnt their world little more than a speck in the universe? How
could things that happened here have any effect on anythingon all of those stars and blackness? What point was
there in doing anything if it didnt affect everything? She felt a longinga longing to affect all of those stars and
undiscovered worlds, a desire to have a power so great that she could see and touch everythingeach galaxy and
planet

Celaena then felt a part of her soul that she hadnt reached in years.

Regret.

Had her choices been different, could she have touched those stars? Right now, could she be changing the course of
the universe?

They had thought she couldeveryone had thought shed be capable of great things

And now look at me. Working for the bastard who destroyed me and my own. Destroying a kingdom for my freedom.
Some accomplishment. What a waste Ive turned out to be.

At this, a helpless sense of loss flowed through her, burning the corners of her eyes and tightening her throat.
Infuriated at her own situation, the assassin slammed her fist into the grass, wanting to inflict pain upon something
other than herself. She spied a circle of moonflowers blooming in the pale light of the half-full moon, and reached
forward to destroy them, but her hand froze as it neared an ivory petal. What good was it destroying something that
might bring joy into the lives of others?

She let out a long sigh and ran her hands through her blond hair. While this place made her feel more comfortable, it
dragged up feelings and memories that she had long since buried in the sands of time. This place was so much like
Trasien, so much like what her life had once been like

The Royal Court

She thought back to Trasiento the time before Adarlan had destroyed her land. There had existed a Royal Court. It
hadnt been restricted to nobilityno, the qualifications were based on something else, something more important
than that

Celaena rubbed her tired eyes with her thumb and forefinger, then dragged them down to grasp her jaw. As she
stared out into the abyss of space, she felt the stars staring back into her.

Loyalty. Love. Courage. Honor. Power.

The Royal Court of Trasien had lived by those words, but there had been something else, some quality that she did
not dare to tread upon once again. She knew that if she thought of it, if even one part of her wished for it to appear,
that it wouldand with deadly effects. She had felt it pooling together in the past few years, when her skills as an
assassin had been squandered in the salt mines, and now that she was in a place such as Wendlyn, a place that
reminded her so much of her home, she was in danger of it coming back.

Celaena closed her mind to the past, stood up from where she sat and walked back towards the houseunaware of
the tiny eyes that had been watching her from the circle of flowers, and of the small figures that now raced back to
the kitchen.

What if, she thought, looking up to the stars once again, what if there is someone out there, billions of miles away,
looking up at the sky at this very moment and staring at my world, but only seeing a single star, wondering if theyre
the only ones out there? Whats the point in confining people to a single planet? Why torture countless lonely souls
with placing them too far apart to reach each other?

She felt a surge of spite towards the gods and goddesses of the universe, and she kicked at the ground.

Whats the use in torturing yourself over something you cant change? Its a waste of your energy.

Celaena stopped as she neared the doorway, startled to see that the wretched door had been opened. Perhaps
Leighanna had gone outside

On-edge, she entered the kitchen, her muscles tense with the thought of a predator in the chateau. The only thing
she saw was a massive pile of sparkling clean dishes.

With a snap, the bottom half of the door shut behind her, causing her to charge at thin air. She looked out into the
darkness for the assailant, and saw and heard nothing. The hair on her arms standing on-end, she examined the
dishes. There had been two sinks full of thempots and pans and plates and bowls and

And it had all been cleaned in less than ten minutes. She heard a cheerful humming as Leighanna entered into the
kitchen with an empty tray and teacup.

Did you do this? Celaena asked, pointing at the clean array of kitchenware.

Leighannas eyes widened and then she broke into a laugh. Oh, noI didnt. But it seems that youve made yourself
a few friends.

What? Celaena asked, her eyes narrowing. You mean Luca or Cind

No, no, Leighanna said as she wiped her hands on her apron after washing out the tray and dishes. Celaena waited
impatiently for her answer. The old woman took her time as she quieted the fire and blew out a few candles, leaving
one burning on the counter. Celaenas foot tapped on the ground, and she began to demand an answer when
Leighanna walked to the door that led to the fields, thinking that the woman was going to leave her without a reply.
Instead, Leighanna turned back to her as she opened the bottom half of the door with ease.

What I meant was nothing human did that. The old woman smiled warmly at Celaena and walked into the night.

Celaena stood in stunned and confused silence for a moment, and then warily eyed the pile of clean dishes.

She then quickly left the kitchen.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 6

The next two days went by without any serious incidentsCelaena dutifully washed the piles of dishes that came in
and out of the kitchen, making sure to avoid being caught alone in the room after the sun had set. She didnt know
who had cleaned those dishes that night, and the prospect of some animal or supernatural being having the ability to
do so put her at such a level of unease that the assassin was ashamed of herself.

The little noises and mysterious happenings that occurred in the kitchen didnt help either. One afternoon, she had set
down her steaming bowl of paestia (which she had made herself) to go get some water from the pump, and when she
had come back to the table all that remained of her meal was an empty dish. At first, she had thought she was going
insaneperhaps she had eaten the food without realizing that she had finished?

Since no one was around, she knew who had taken her foodthe same things that had cleaned the dishes the night
before. In rage and fear, she had picked up the bowl, strode towards the wretched door, attempted to pry the bottom
half open, failed, and chucked the ceramic bowl through the top half towards the fields in hopes of scaring away the
creatures that were beginning to make her life a bit too nerve-racking. All that she had succeeded in achieving was a
hysterical Luca, who burst into the kitchen minutes later, claiming that she had tried to take off his head.

Her first night in Cindrillions room had also made her a little more on-edge than she would have liked. The dead,
clothed animals that lay rotting in their cages made Celaena sleep terribly. All night she had terrible dreams of the
animals rising from the dead and assaulting her. Each time the room creaked or made any other sort of noise, her
eyes flew open and she stared at the moonlit graveyard that was only a few feet away, making sure that nothing had
moved out of its resting place. Cindrillion slumbered peacefully in the bed beside her, oblivious to the insomnia of her
roommate. By the time exhaustion of her body had caught up to her mind, the sky was already turning gray. When
the sun had risen, there was chattering and singing and the sounds of movement in the room, which the assassin
slept soundly through. She awoke to a sparkling-clean empty room, and, to her horror, saw that the dead mice and
birds had moved from the places that they had held during the night.

The second night wasnt much better. At one point, Celaena was so frustrated with herself that she considered tossing
the cages out the window, but respect for Cindrillions twisted love of the creatures kept her in her bed.

Celaena and Cindrillion, because of their differing hours of awakening and working, often had little time to talk.
Stephaenya told her that the stepsisters and Baroness du Tremaine loaded her up with so many chores every day that
Cindrillion didnt have much time to converse with them. Shed pop into the kitchen during lunchtime to eat, then
would disappear out the door to spend an hour to visit. Celaena suspected that Cindrillion was probably in the
woods, but she didnt bother to ask. During the hour when Cindrillion was off on her own, Stephaenya would cover for
her, waiting upon the selfish and spoiled whims of the three ruling women.

The other stepsisterthe taller onewas named Joline, and she was just as nasty and rotten as her sister. Joline and
Marghenna spent the majority of their days lying on the sofas in the drawing room, picking at the food brought to
them, barking orders to Cindrillion, and gossiping idiotically about the nobles of Wendlyn. Their favorite topic of
conversation was, naturally, the Crown Prince, who seemed to be but a few years older than them, very handsome,
and still unmarried. They would burst into a fit of giggles every time his name was mentioned (though Joline sounded
like a donkey braying), and reflexively powder their faces.

The Great Celebration, which turned out to be a massive ball in honor of the Crown Princes twenty-first birthday and
the countrys one-thousandth year in existence, was a source of endless excitement and controversy for them. To
Celaenas great amusement, she discovered that each sister suspected that she would win the princes heart at the
ball, and wind up married by the next morning. When they became too jealous and frightened of the others chances
at becoming princess, the assassin delighted in hearing their screams and shrieks as they attacked each other,
clawing and tearing and pinching. The only way, Celaena learned, of stopping them was either the harsh command of
their mother or the call of a meal bell.

Two days after her arrival, a fight unlike any other broke out over the gilded lunch table of the stepsisters. Joline had
snidely remarked to Marghenna that if she continued to stuff food into her mouth like a pig, shed become even fatter,
which would not please the Crown Prince. Marghenna had replied by saying that once the Crown Prince caught sight of
Jolines enormous front teeth, hed surely turn her down. Jolines retort had been that the Crown Prince wouldnt want
to marry a fat cow anyway, and Marghenna then told Joline she resembled a man. In a split second, there came two
ear-shattering battle cries from the dining room, and Celaenaand those in the kitchenhad rushed to the dining
room to see what the fuss was all about. When they found them, Celaena had almost burst out laughing. The two
sisters were rolling on the large table, crashing through plates and chairs and goblets, shrieking curses and foul things
at each other while locked in deadly hand-to-hand combat. Marghenna had a good hold on Jolines brown hair, and
was trying to twist her arm around her back while Joline was pinching Marghennas overly present cleavage and
attempting to free the arm that was being twisted behind her.

Grinning wickedly, Celaena and Luca exchanged bets on who would win this fightthe assassin put her money on
Joline, but Luca placed his on Marghenna, whispering that if Marghenna was able to get into a good position for a
second, she could sit on Joline and break her sister in two.

Since the Baroness was out for the afternoon, and because they were already eating a meal, there seemed to be
nothing to do but wait until one of them collapsed or gave in. Leighanna tried unsuccessfully to get them to stop, by
which point Celaena and Luca were on the verge of tears from suppressed laughter. Stephaenya was standing in a
horrified state of shock, but she was probably more concerned with the ruined food than the sisters well being.

Eventually, Joline seized an open opportunity and smacked Marghenna hard across the face, making her sister burst
into a fit of tears. Marghenna screamed that she hated Joline, savagely ripped out a chunk of Jolines hair, and fled
from the room, sobbing. Joline, her hand reaching up to her head, began to cry too, sounding once again like a
donkey, and ran out of the chamber as well, leaving a trail of food and a ruined lunch.

It took a while for Celaena and Luca to stop laughingthe sisters were probably the most ridiculous people on earth,
and it was hard to imagine that two nobles could act in such a manner. Luca did a perfect impersonation of Jolines
braying sobs, which caused Celaena to laugh even harder.
It had been a while since she had laughed like this

Leighanna and Stephaenya, however, did not find the incident funny. They had worked on that meal since breakfast,
and they now not only had to deal with making a doubly large dinner, but also had an entire room to clean before it.
When Luca and Celaena had failed to realize this and continued to laugh, Leighanna had sharply pointed out that
Celaena would be washing and repairing all of these dishes with them. At that point, Luca ceased his antics and
muttered something about having work to do in the field, and then quickly departed. Celaena, frowning, helped the
two women pick up the mess, and began to fervently wish that those bizarre creatures would make use of their
miraculous cleaning skills.

On her fourth day, after another terrible night, Celaena surprisingly awoke at sunrise to the racket that was going on
in her bedroom. Opening an eye grumpily, she saw Cindrillion dancing about the room in her nightgown, singing
nonsensical songs while making her bed. There were things flying around and humming to her tune, which made
Celaena consider if she were still asleep. The assassin groaned and dropped her head back onto her pillow, intending
to sleep for at least another hour. She heard the noises of Cindrillion washing herself behind the painted screen, still
singing, and opened an eye once again to tell her to lower her voice, only to see a water-laden sponge floating in the
air and then self-squeezing its contents over Cindrillions head.

Celaena opened her other eye and blinked rapidly. A sponge had just floated into the air and

Before she could react, her bedcovers flew up into the air above her, as if an invisible person were making the bed.
But it wasnt a personit was

Im dreaming, Im dreaming, this is a nightmare.

Four birds, ones that had been dressed and dead the night before, had lifted her blankets and were in the process of
making her bed while she was still in it. They whipped her pillow out from beneath her and fluffed it in the air in jerky,
surreal movements before they dropped it down over her face and began to hop it into place.

Being suffocated by dead things, Celaena thrashed wildly and threw the pillow across the room with a roar, leaping
out of bed, ready to fight. She was dreaming, she had to be.

Immediately, a sodden sponge came flying at her and emptied itself over her head, drenching her from head to toe in
icy water. She swiped at it angrily, but then let out a high-pitched scream as she saw that two more dead birds, their
necks broken, had been carrying the sponge. At her feet, dead mice swept the floor with long feathers, trying to mop
up the water. Celaena leapt onto her bed in disgust and terror, then leapt across onto Cindrillions and was about to
take a leap for the door when Cindrillion called out to the dead animals and began to scold them.

Celaena was awake, and she knew it. This wasnt a dream.

Cindrillion, dressed in her underclothes, looked awfully guilty.

Shame on you! she shook a finger at the decaying animals. Ive told you time and again not to wake her up, and
certainly to not make her bed while she is in it!

Celaena found that she was shaking so badly that she could no longer stand, and she collapsed onto Cindrillions bed
in a heap, staring dumbly at the scene unfolding before her.

The mice and birds made apologetic noises.

This isnt happening. Im stuck in a dream, theres no explanation for this. These things are dead, they were dead last
night, they smell like dead things, and theyre decaying. This is not reality.

Im sure that Elentulyai forgives you, so theres no need to get upset about it, but shes just not used to seeing you!
Cindrillion was continuing.

Ive checked their cages every night, Ive seen more than enough of them.

Celaena watched in terror as a particularly fat mouse came forward and bowed stiffly, the sound of cracking bones
resounding in her ears. Her heart was pounding in her chest.
Oh, Gus, Cindrillion said affectionately, thats so kind of you. Celaena stared at the mouse, horrified, her mouth
popping open.

This isnt happening to me. Its dead, its bones just broke because its been dead for five damn days and dead things
arent supposed to be alive like this and bowing to you and its dead and Im in Hell now, arent I? Yes, this is Hell,
this is unreal, this is irrationalthat thing isits dead but its moving and shes talking to it and its replying, but its
dead and

Cindrillion turned towards Celaena. Isnt that sweet? Hes offering his deepest apologies for

Before she understood what she was doing, Celaena had uncharacteristically shut her eyes and let out another
scream, this time higher and filled with absolute horror.

She hadnt screamed like that in over a decade. She had been hoping that it would get her out of this nightmare, but
it only succeeded in causing the sound of arriving footsteps to fill the air.

Oh, pleaseplease dont scream, Cindrillion was begging her, dropping down to her knees at the foot of the bed. As
the young woman reached out a hand to touch Celaenas leg in comfort, the assassin flipped hurled herself off the
bed, and attempted to get through the door. Unfortunately, at that same moment, Luca and Stephaenya came
crashing through it, hitting Celaena squarely in the face with the door and sending her flying backwards onto the
ground. Her assassinating reflexes kicking in, she immediately jumped feet and was about to vault past the two of
them when Luca began to laugh, causing her to pause.

So this is what they gave you for Yulemas! he chuckled heartily. Cleaning, free of charge! Cindrillion smiled
sheepishly, but it faded as she noticed Celaena once more.

Celaena, her legs shaking so badly that she couldnt stand, dropped onto the ground again and grabbed onto her
nose, which was suddenly aching.

I suspect that hurt, didnt it? Sorry about that, Luca said, and patted her shoulder. Was it you who screamed?

Celaena could only stare at him stupidly, scared, confused, and almost out of her mind.

Quite a vocal box youve got there.

Luca, Stephaenya said warningly, and then dropped her voice. Shes probably in shock, the young woman
whispered, but Celaena heard anyway.

Celaena dumbly muttered something about the bed making itself with her in it and a sponge.

This isnt real. It cant be. What kind of a place is this? Who are these people? Are they all dead too?

Leighanna said this would happen, Cindrillion said softly, picking up Gus and stroking his broken head. I tried to get
them to be quiet, but this morning they were exceptionally excited and

And they probably didnt fancy having that bowl chucked at them the other day, anyway, Luca said sourly.

Paestias gone, Celaena mumbled, staring at the dead mouse in Cindrillions hands with slightly glazed eyes.

Ah, they tend to eat my food from time to time as well, Stephaenya said gently. Theyre very temperamental, so
youve got to be careful about how you react when you do things like that

I think youre confusing her, Luca said.

Im doing a better job than you were, she retorted.

I think shes just very confused and scared, Cindrillion offered.

Of course she is, shes from Adarlan. They dont have them in Adarlan anymore. Made them all leave.
Thats not her fault is it?

Since she worked for the prince, it could be!

This is not something to talk about right now, Luca.

You two are going to make her scream again, said Cindrillion, watching Celaenas slackened face.

The arguing couple turned towards Celaena again and stopped speaking.

Celaena couldnt believe it. Didnt death have any control in this country?

Dead she managed to say.

Cindrillion looked offended and surprised. Theyre not dead, she gasped.

You see, Elentulyai, these things Stephaenya began.

Who the hell is that? Oh, my namethats what they think my name is. Theyre dead, gods above, those things are
dead and theyre moving and I think Im dead tooI have to be.

Theyre bewitched. Luca blurted out.

What?

A spark of recognition flashed across her mind. Sending plates smashing into walls, books flying in and out of their
places on the shelves, forks and spoons doing a dancing duet at the dinner table while the knives beat a melody on
the porcelain plates

No.

You see, in Wendlyn Stephaenya tried again.

Weve got magick, Luca said bluntly. Dyou know what that is?

Magick

No, its not real anymore. It doesnt exist. Its dead.

And because weve still got magick, unlike Adarlan, weve got these things called faeries, Luca was going on.

Faeriespart of the FaeI knew someoneI knew someone who was

No, its extinct; theyre all extinctAdarlan saw to that.

Theyre the ones who ate your food and cleaned up your dishes, and who have bewitched these animals to help out
Cindrillion, to lessen her burdens here.

No, no, its gone.

Luca, I think that shes going to faint.

If she can hurl a bowl all the way to the fields, she can certainly take this.

A bell began ringing.

Ive got to run, Cindrillion said quickly, staying as far away from Celaena as she could while edging towards the
door. Casting an apologetic glance down at Celaena, Cindrillion pocketed Gus and fled down the stairs to answer the
summons of the bell.

Faeries, Luca continued with a grin, are a crucial part to this world. They keep the earth healthy and thriving.
Unlike Adarlan, we also respect the fact that they were here firstthey were here long before this land was called
Wendlyn, and because of that, we dont disturb their living areas. They choose to interact with us out of curiosity and
generosity, so dont be disrespectful.

Stop!

Her hand rose to her face and her brows knotted as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes.

I dont think she understands you, Stephaenya whispered.

Luca made a clicking noise with his teeth and fished something out of his pocket. There was a fluttering of wings and
a sound like a bubble popping, and Celaena suddenly found herself staring at a spindly-fingered, bug-eyed sapphire
blue and purple thing with iridescent wings and a naughty grin on its face. Its large coal-black eyes gleamed with
mischief as it accepted whatever Luca had offered it with fingers that were as long as each of its scrawny arms. It had
a bit of a potbelly, but its limbs were so skinny that she could have broken them like twigs. Though it was not even a
foot tall, Celaenas heart stopped beating and she sent herself propelling backwards, up onto the bed, where she, with
the force of her movement, accidentally flipped off the other side onto her head.

When it flew up into the air and poked its awful little face over the edge of the bed and watched her straighten herself
out, she began to shake and sputter and was so scared that not even a scream could form in her mouth.

This is Hell. Im dead, this thing is dead, nothings realthis cant be real because there is no such thing as magick
anymore. Its gone, its over, it cannot exist because I

It flew towards her, its head cocked to the side, and a sound burst from her lips, a name that she had not spoken
aloud in nearly a month, a name that she thought would somehow protect her.

Dorian, Dorian, the creature mimicked her in its high-pitched voice, still approaching, and cackled, clutching its
protruding belly as it did so.

Why in Hell did you conjure up a Berryeater? Stephaenya was scolding Luca. Theyre mean and love to poke fun at

Celaena let out a howl as the thing grabbed onto a lock of her hair and swung idly from it. Upon grabbing the thing to
hurl it off of her, her howl turned into another scream when she felt the smooth, soft flesh of it. She let go
immediately and covered her face in her hands, her entire body shaking so violently that she thought her insides
would shatter.

This isnt real, its dream, its

The thing was laughing with glee as it continued to swing from her hair, swinging across her front and grabbing onto
the opposite strand like a tree-dwelling creature of the forest.

Thats enough, let go of her, let go you Stephaenya was suddenly in front of her, prying the thing off. It squeaked
in protest, and held onto her hair as Stephaenya pulled it upwards.

Sometimes the right combination of blood can cause a trait to come back in full commodityas long as she keeps up
her lessons, shell never lose what she has now.

No. No, no, no, no!

In fright and sudden anger, Celaena grabbed the thing again, knocking Stephaenyas hand out of the way and
dislodged it from her hair. She squeezed it tightly, and glared at it, sending waves of hatred deep into its ebony eyes.
It snarled at her and bit down onto her hand with razor-sharp teeth, causing her to drop it in pain. It watched,
hovering in the air, with satisfaction as two streams of blood began to flow down her hand. Celaena looked up at it
with fury and her body tensed with the motion to attack. Realizing that it might not be so lucky this time around, the
faerie made a rude noise and flew out the open window.

There was an awkward silence after the Berryeater had disappeared. Celaena looked down at her bleeding hand and
then back at Luca and Stephaenya.

Faeries. Here.

Magick

I caught her hurling dishes across the courtyard this morningAnd I dont mean by hand.

It cant be. Magick still existedit was still present

The Fae are here.

Who has the right to possess such potential?

She does.

Tipping back her head, Celaena began to laugh hysterically.

Galan Ashryver, Crown Prince of Wendlyn, pulled his horse to a stop and looked down the tree-lined road, a frown
appearing on his face. He hadnt intended to come to this estate; in fact, he normally stayed as far away from it as he
could. But this morning his thoughts had been so adrift that he had forgotten to pay attention to which direction his
horse had taken him and he had just come back to reality to find himself on the edge of the dreaded estate of the
Baroness du Tremaine. The Crown Prince let out a long-winded sigh and ran a gloved hand though his coal-black hair.

Normally, protocol would have demanded that he pay a visit, but as the sun was just on the rise, he offered a silent
thankful prayer to the Goddess that the three awful women were still sound asleep.

A scream filled the air, sending the birds that had been sleeping in nearby trees into flight.

Perhaps not.

When another scream issued from the chateau, a sly grin appeared on Galans face. If they were having a dilemma so
early in the morning, then today was probably not the best one to visit. After all, he still had two more weeks until his
bachelor tour of this part of the kingdom was overhe could pay the required visit to the Tremaine household any
time he wished!

Or until I absolutely have to visit them. Damn my mother! Right now, if it wasnt for this ridiculoussurvey, Id be
hunting or doing something more productive and amusing than meeting every eligible woman in the land. As if Id
actually choose a bride after knowing her for a day! What an idiotic notion.

He suppressed a snarl of frustration and kneed his horse into a gallop, heading back to the estate at which he was
currently visiting, hoping that he hadnt missed breakfast.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 7

Shes gone mad.

Shes not mad, shes just in need of another drink.

Luca, one more and shell be throwing up whatevers in her stomach all over the place.

Her hands are still shaking! She needs another drink to strengthen up a little. Come on now, Elentulyai, just have
anothow! You bit me!
Celaena snorted and then let out a giggle that sounded more like a gargle. Luca looked at her incredulously.

Yourhandwas in the way of the cup, she said with a wry smile.

Thats it, Stephaenya scolded. Youve gotten her drunk. I will not be a part of this!

Celaena shook her head, and then found herself to be very dizzy. Im notdrunk. Its too early forfor that sort of
thing. She couldnt think about thosethings that lived here. It was too much. It had taken them ten minutes to get
her to leave the bedroom, and a further five to get her into the kitchen; but not surprisingly, it had taken them no
time at all to get her to drink the glass of brandy that Luca shoved into her hand.

Stephaenya gave Luca a murderous glare. I told you to give her tea. Nice. Hot. Tea. But no! Any excuse to drink, any
excuse to break out the alcohol

Youre very uptight for a young woman, Celaena said, cocking her head to the side. Perhaps you should do
something.

What? Stephaenya snapped, blushing. Youre not making any sense.

Well, Celaena said, leaning forward onto the table and giving her best attempt at a serious face. Maybe you should
get a new hobby other than cookingthings. Maybe you should take up something relaxing, something exciting,
something

Like what? Fishing?

Celaena shrugged her shoulders. If thats what floats your boat, then sure.

Luca muffled a laugh into his shoulder. Celaena, unable to resist, joined in on the laughter, not bothering to hide it.

Stephaenya looked from Luca to Celaena and frowned deeply. I think you both are horrid, she said, and stormed out
of the room.

Luca stopped laughing immediately and stood up. Stephaenya! he called after her. Stephaenya, dont be like that!
Come onit was just a joke! Come oncome back!

There was a distant cry of No! from the hallways beyond, and Luca sat down again.

Women Celaena said, clucking her tongue. Theyre so touchy, arent they?

Luca didnt look so amused anymore. Shes very sensitive about working here, you know.

Celaena scoffed at his seriousness. Id be tooif I had this lousy job for the rest of my life, she grinned.

So this is only temporary? There was an edge to his voice that she felt more comfortable ignoring.

She laughed and nodded her head. He didnt smile.

You know, she grinned, eager to change the subject, youre very good-looking! For a young man, that is.

His frown faltered a little and some color crept into his cheeks.

Ththank you, he mumbled.

She let out a wordless exclamation and cackled. Youre embarrassed! Thats so precious!

Luca gave her a foul look.

What? She said, putting her hands on her chest. Dont you hear that often? Its nothing to be embarrassed about
being good-looking, that is. Why, Im quite proud of it.
Thats because youre as vain as a swan.

Me? Vain? Hardly! Why, I had to work in the she stopped herself then, grabbing a hold of the alcohol that was
working to undo her disguise.

Yes? he crooned. You had to work in the

She straightened up. Well, working for the Crown Prince

He rolled his eyes. Ah, yes. Working in the finest palace in the world must have been very dirty work.

In a mental sense, it sometimes was, she snarled. A thought suddenly burst into her mind, which she shoved away
with a swig of the brandy in front of her. She couldnt think about itabout themabout those creatures that were all
over the place here.

Luca raised an eyebrow. Tell me about working in Adarlan, he said, sounding interested. Whats the Crown Prince
like?

Even the two glasses of brandy that she had downed couldnt restrain the painful throb of her heart that arose from
thinking about Dorian DeHavilliard.

Hes like most royals in Adarlan, she said dismissively. Spoiled, arrogant, and completely in love with himself. It
was a bit of a stretchbut it was what Luca wanted to hear. It wasnt a complete lie, she told herself, because Dorian
had acted that way when she had first met himwhen he had freed her from the salt mines of Endovier.

Just focus on the bad points of his character

He spends his days in the kennels with his thousands of ridiculous hunting dogs. He has them breeding day in and
day out, and the ones that dont please him, he gives to someone worthy of such an honor.

Do you have one of them?

Another aching pang in her chest. Yes, she said, somewhat more quietly, I do. Her name is Fleetfoot. And shes as
damn fine and fast as any of his hounds. She laughed to herself, remembering the night when Dorian had walked
into her room, seen the size and strength of Fleetfoot, and began to curse violently at himself for believing that she
was doomed to be a runt all her life.

So thats all he does? Play with dogs all day?

Celaena snorted with amusement. No, nohe does other things. Likeplay pool. And read. And sleep with the ladies
of the court.

Those arent very princely things to do.

This is Adarlan were talking about.

Luca chuckled. Go on, tell me more.

She scanned her memory, and bit down on her lower lip.

Just think about anything other than thosemonstrosities that are all over! Maybe if you dont think about them, they
wont appear and attack you again

She unconsciously touched her front strands of hair, as if to make sure that the Berryeater was gone.

Well, she said, he likes to hunt. They have a game park on the castle groundsI know, its ridiculousbut I dont
recall him ever using the park when I was with him Oh! And he likes to fence and play with weapons too.

So hes not a push-over?

No, no, she said too quickly, hes very capablephysically. Hes not one of those sallow, awkward princes. Hes
exceptionally attractive and strong and

Youre drooling.

Celaenas eyes widened with embarrassment. I was not drooling!

You had this glazed look to your eyes, Luca jeered. So, tell me, Elentulyaijust how capable is he?

She barred her teeth and glowered at him. Ive already told you that there was nothing of that sort between Dorian
and I.

Oh, Dorian is it? Not his majesty? You must have been very intimate with

Shut your mouth! I dont poke fun at you and Stephaenya, do I?

So there was something between you!

What?

Well, you just made a comparison to

Youre a wretched boy. I should kill you for suggesting that Dor

Why is it that every threat you make has to do with physical violence?

Why is it that you pry where youre not wanted?

Luca gave her a look of mock anguish. Lady, pleaseyou have my heart in your hands! Be a bit more considerate
with your words!

She snarled at him. Dont you have work to do?

He shrugged his shoulders. Probably. But making sure that you dont go into hysterics again is my top-priority.

I think youre just lazy and will use any excuse not to work.

If you had to work in the fields, youd be searching for excuses too.

I know what you mean, she thought, remembering the years spent in the salt mines. Unfortunately for her, no
excuses had ever worked.

What exactly do you do, Luca?

Help with planting and reaping and keeping the fields in orderBasic farming work.

An honorable profession, she said with an austere nod.

Its only temporary. There was a far-away expression on his face.

Until when? You die?

For your information, I plan on

Knighthood! How could I forget? You plan on being a knight!

He glared at her. Dont mock me, he said, sounding slightly offended.

She gulped down the rest of her drink. My apologies, my lord, she said humbly.

You mock me now, but just wait until

Until what? The cattle bow down to you?

Youre awful.

Moo!

I hope you get attacked by all the faeries in the land.

Faeries.

A tremor ran through her, and all the alcohol she had consumed disappeared in a second.

No. They dont exist.

Oh, come on, Elentulyaitheyre not that bad.

She reached for the bottle of brandy, but Luca craftily moved it out of reach. I think youve had enough.

She shook her head dumbly. I won't believe it. They dont existAdarlan saw to it. Magicks gone. Faeries are gone.
That was part of the old worldthey dont belong here

Whats so scary about them anyway? They can be extremely useful. They sometimes help me in the fieldsyou
know, just gathering hay and picking the produce.

They dont exist, she stated flatly, and felt slightly dumb afterwards.

Unless weve all gone mad, they do exist. Theyre not all like that Berryeater. Youve got your water sprites, and tree
dwellers, and air spirits, and within those three branches, there are lots of different types, like

Stop! Stop! Stop!

and theyre pretty amusing, especially on the summer solstice, when they practically drown themselves in wine

Stop! she blurted out unintentionally.

Luca halted his speech, suddenly worried that he had gone too far. Look, he began, they wont hurt you if you dont
hurt them. True, some of them might be a bit mischievous, but theyre not evil

She stared at him blankly, feeling herself slipping back into the hysterical state she had been in twenty minutes ago.

I know it must be a shock to yousince they dont exist in Adarlan, but weve co-existed for thousands of years
without any problems! Youll get used to them eventua

And I dont mean by hand.

It couldnt be real. Magick had been destroyed. Adarlan had destroyed it all. Celaena didnt want to believe it, but as
she stared at Lucas unmarred face, she was disturbed to find that a part of her was relieved that magick still existed.
A part of her that she had kept under lock and key for almost two decades.

There was a masculine roar from the fields, and Luca immediately shot to his feet, cursing. Ive got to gothe
overseer will have my neck for not working

Something within her flickered, and for a second, all thoughts of magick and faeries vanished. You have an
overseer? she said, with deadly calm and clarity.
He gave her a weighing look. Yes, he said, almost out of the kitchen.

He doesntwhip you, does he? There was a deadly gleam in her eyes.

Luca was taken aback. Of course not! Why, thats practically heathen behavior! He yells at me, but hed never hit
me. Hes more likea foremanHe just makes sure the workers and I dont bewell, dont act like I am right now!
He vaulted over the half door and turned back quickly. Youll be all right, wont you? If anything bothers you, just
come and visit me for a while. I get bored out there, so a little excitement will brighten my day. He gave her a wink
and then sprinted towards the fields, his dark brown hair gleaming in the sunlight.

Celaena watched him until he disappeared into the long stalks of grain, and then reached for the bottle of brandy.

It was nearing noon when there came a loud cry from the kitchen, followed by the noise of dishes and pans beating
against each other. Then there was the sound of running, accentuated by someone slamming into the bottom half of a
door, quickly followed by someone falling over it onto the ground below. There was another howl of rage and terror,
and it increased as the poor soul dashed like a jackrabbit towards the barn.

Celaena Sardothien burst into the dusty building and was halfway up the nearest wooden beam before she realized
that the faeries had long stopped chasing her. She heard their cackles of glee from outside and clung to the column
like a frightened animal, her chest heaving. She had been cooking paestia, not bothering anybody, save for her
slightly tipsy humming, and then these things had swarmed into the kitchenthey were red and green and pink and
purple and shiny and

She scampered up a few more feet on the pole.

They had flown in, laughing with mischief, and had seized her pot of boiling paestia, chased her around the room with
it, and she had made the mistake of running into the half-door (which she could have sworn was unlocked), then
falling over it in a frantic attempt to get away from the boiling, cackling doom that had awaited her. Looking over her
shoulder, she saw the flock of faeries swinging the pot in the air outside the barn, and then, with a chorus of giggles,
dump its contents onto the dirt before flying away to ruin someone elses lunch.

Had she not been scared out of her mind, she would have considered grabbing them out of the air, filling up the pot
with hot water, and cooking them alive. She wasnt sure about how they would taste, but the satisfaction of knowing
that they had replaced her lunch would be good enough for her.

Are you planning on hiding up there all day?

Celaena looked down, startled, and saw Luca standing below her, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

Howd you get up there anyway?

Im a good climber.

Youre practically a tree creature.

Celaena stuck out her tongue and saw the sword in his hands. Whats that?

Youve never seen a sword before?

NoI mean, yes, of course I have, halfwit, but why do you have one?

So the cattle bow down to me, my radiant lady, he said dryly.

Of course, she sneered.

She glanced towards the steaming pile of ruined paestia and growled.

Are you planning on coming down?

No, she said sarcastically, I think Ill stay up here for an hour or two to enjoy the view of my sabotaged lunch. I
thought you said they were harmless.

They arewhen you dont let them boss you around like that.

They were chasing me with a pot full of boiling water. What was I supposed to do?

Luca considered this for a moment before simply saying: Run.

My point exactly.

He shook his head and offered his hand up to her, placing his sword on the ground. Allow me to help you down from
your pedestal.

She slid down a few feet on the pole, realizing how high up she was, and felt his strong hands grab onto her waist as
she neared the bottom.

Ive never felt this close to you, Luca, she jeered. Are you sure Stephaenya wont mind?

She could feel the heat radiating off of his face as she hit the ground.

Its all in a knights work, he said with an elaborate bow. He was so close to the ground that she felt like pushing
him over to have a good laugh, but a wicked cry of delight filled the air and Celaena reflexively kicked Lucas sword
upwards off the ground with a flick of her foot, grabbing it in her hands, ready to fight.

Thats some fancy sword-handling, Luca said, his mouth slightly open. Whered you learn that?

From killing hundreds of men.

From my beloved prince.

Oh, rightthe capable one.

She turned the sword slightly in his direction. Id watch your mouth if I were you, she sneered.

He held up both hands in defense. Your wish is my command.

When a faerie failed to appear, she let down her guard and looked down at the weapon in her hands. It was oldand
slightly rusted along the edges.

For a knight, you dont take very good care of your weapons.

He stiffened. Its not mine.

Youre a damn lousy thief then.

He reached for the sword, but she moved it out of his reach.

I didnt steal it, he said. I borrowed it.

If thats what youd prefer to call it, go ahead, but you still made a terrible choice.

You buffoonI didnt steal it! A friend of mine lent it to me for practicing.

Practicing what? Herding cattle?

You wouldnt understand, he muttered, and dove for the sword. Once again, she was too fast for him, and she
tossed the sword to her other hand behind her back and dangled it for him to see.
You clearly dont practice enough, she teased, if you cant even disarm me.

I havent got a weapon of my own to do it with! I dont want to be skewered!

Be creativefind your own weaponperhaps a pitchfork?

Just because you let the faeries pick on you doesnt mean you have to be so rotten to me.

He leapt for the sword again, but she pivoted, catching him while his back was to her, and gave him a gentle, yet
effective jab in his behind.

He yelped and swung to face her.

Thatll teach you, wont it?

He glared at her, and instead of charging again, closed his eyes and whispered a few words that she couldnt
understand before letting out a series of whistles. She had seen him do that beforeright when he had

No! she hissed, darting forward, but he was already on the move. Dont summon those things here!

He laughed and whistled three more times. Stop! she whispered violently, hoping that by keeping her voice down,
the faeries wouldnt come.

Luca did the chanting and whistling once more, and she hurled herself at him, but the sound of fluttering of wings and
mindless chatter burst into the barn; and before Celaena could run him through with his own sword, six or seven
faeries were whizzing towards her.

Their huge black eyes glistened with malice, and she let out a loud howl before darting out of the barn at top speed, a
flock of color zooming behind her.

But I dont know how to sew, Celaena whined, looking at the rips and holes in her dress.

Then I guess youll have to cope with the tears.

But its not my fault!

I dont know why you were swinging that sword around, but it didnt look very smart to me, Leighanna said,
kneading the bread dough.

I didnt do this to myself! Those creature-things did this! They grabbed onto my dress and ripped it and

The only thing I saw was you running around the yard, waving that sword in the air and bellowing like a madman.

No! Those things did it! Why would I rip my own dress?

What things? Come herelet me feel your forehead.

Celaenas mouth popped open with disbelief. Those things that fly around! Im not sick! I saw them! Luca saw them!
Luca summoned them! He made them do this to me!

Luca would never do anything to harm anyone! Now, until I know what youre talking about, I cant help you, can I?

Ive already told you! Those little monstrosities that fly around making trouble!

Ive lived here all my life and I know for a fact that there are no monstrosities flying around here.

Ive got rip in the back of my dress large enough for me to fit my head through!
Get a needle and thread.

Leighanna! Cant you do some of thatstuff to make it normal again?

Youre going to have to be more precise with

Celaena was fed up. Her dress was ruined; she was tired and sweaty and had spent the last half-hour being chased by
flying demons from Hell. All she wanted was a dress that didnt expose her backside and some lunch.

Faeries! Magick! she yelled. The stuff that runs rampant around this awful place! Those faeries ruined my dress and
stole my ribbon and dumped my paestia in the dirt and

Oh! Faeries! Leighanna said suddenly, with a twinkle in her eyes. Well, in that case, Ill fix your dress up as soon as
Im done with lunch. Why dont you go upstairs and change into something thatcovers you more?

Celaena wanted to scream. She had been tricked into saying it aloud. The terrible old woman had conned her into
admitting that they were real! What a dirty, no-good

Ill make you a bowl of paestia while youre changing.

I love this woman.

Celaena practically ran up the stairs to change, holding her dress closed behind her. She had never tried to kill
anything that could easily fly out of reach. She hadnt even touched them! It had been a nightmare. She was going to
slaughter Luca as soon as she had something suitable to wear again.

When she came down to the kitchen, clothed in the expensive outfit she had worn over from Adarlan, Leighanna was
nowhere to be seen. Three silver trays filled with extensive lunches lay on the table, and Celaena was half-tempted to
eat it for herself. However, on the other end of the table, there lay a large bowl filled with

She was halfway through eating the paestia when two faeries popped into the kitchen, their smiles exposing their
long, sharp teeth. She was on her feet immediately, and they approached her, causing her to back up against the wall
of the kitchen. They had exceptionally long fingers that seemed to end in claws and

Celaena gulped, and felt her knees begin to shake slightly. These were evil faeries.

LeighLeigh. She gasped, looking around for something to defend herself with.

Get yourself together! Youre Adarlans assassin! You can escape these thi--

LeighLeigh! they mimicked, and burst into laughter. She held up her hands in helpless defense, showing surrender,
but their eyes only widened. When she saw what they were drawn to, she was surprised at the predatory snarl that
rose to her lips.

Dorians ring.

They jabbered at her, and one of them reached for it with a spindly finger. She let out a growl and knocked it aside
with her other hand, shuddering as she made contact with its squishy flesh. The other one charged at her, and she
ducked down swiftly, causing it to crash into the stone wall behind her. The battle began. They danced and dashed
through the kitchen, knocking over pans and dishes, but making sure to keep clear of the three trays on the table. But
they soon had her cornered, backed up against a wall again, and probably would have taken the ring if Cindrillion
hadnt walked into the kitchen.

Celaena opened her mouth to cry for help, but when she saw the state of the young woman, she stopped in her
tracks.

Cindrillion was drenched from her neck down to her waist in what seemed to be steamingtea.

The faeries had stopped their assault as well.

Whatwhat happened? Celaena asked, hoping to escape the faeries with this distraction.

Cindrillion shrugged, as if the fact that her dress was emitting steam didnt matter. The tea was too hot for them,
she said, dropping off a silver tray in the sink. She looked down at her sodden dress and frowned. I guess it was a
tad bit too hot.

Celaena saw the red burn marks beginning to appear on Cindrillions skin, but before she could say or do anything,
the young woman had disappeared through one of the kitchens many exits. A knot of anger formed in her stomach.

She stared at the two faeries, who had also been watching Cindrillion. Whowho did that? she asked them, and was
alarmed at the fact that she actually posed an intelligent question to them. They barred their teeth viciously and then
one of them seemed to compress itself into a fat orb while the other extended its nose to about a foot in length and
made a hideous face. She knew instantly whom they were imitatingMarghenna and Joline.

Her stepsisters did that?

They both let out furious snarls of agreement and changed back into their normal forms. This place was becoming too
much like Adarlan. Overseers, wicked stepsisters

Celaena stared at the tea tray lying in the sink and then turned to the two faeries, a venomous smile appearing on her
lips.

Dyou two want to do something very naughty?

Two high-pitched screams nearly shattered the chandeliers in the second-floor hallway.

Mother! Mother! The two sisters screamed, exploding from their tearoom in a horrified state. MOTHER!

The Baroness du Tremaine stood up from her chair, tight-lipped, and placed down the letter that she had read three
times over in the past ten minutes. This was the opportunity that they had been anticipating for the past seven years.

She braced herself as they burst into her room, rattling the windows and furniture like a stampede of wild animals.

The lunch they stammered, practically sobbing. It began to dance and sing andoh! It was horrible, just
horrible!

The Baroness du Tremaine stared at them coldly. What is this nonsense?

The porridgeit turned into a little man and danced around the table! And the forks and spoons began to waltz and
the The sisters embraced and sobbed onto the others shoulder.

Calm yourself at once! the Baroness barked at them. Now, what is this rubbish about dancing porridge and

Its not rubbish! Joline wailed. The wine was whining and the glasses screamed every time we tried to pick them up
and

I thought I made it perfectly clear that there was to be no magick in this household.

Mother! It wasnt us! Oh, it was that wretched girljust because we spilled tea on her by accident! Marghenna was
beside herself.

Which girl?

CINDRILLION.

The Baroness du Tremaine stiffened and stalked over to her beside, where she pulled on a velvet rope three times.

While she waited, she watched her daughters cry themselves into a state of hysteria, and felt a surge of disgust rise in
her breast.
There was a gentle knock on the door.

Come in, the Baroness said coldly.

Cindrillion opened the door wide enough to allow only herself through, and closed it softly behind her.

Oh! You! You horrible girl! Marghenna sobbed, pointing a fat finger in Cindrillions direction.

Cindrillions brows crossed with confusion. I beg your pardon, Marghenna, but what have I done to offend you? She
kept herself backed up against the door.

The Baroness du Tremaine stepped forward. Come here, child. My daughters tell me that you enchanted their food.
What have I told you about doing

I didnt do any magick! Cindrillion pleaded, shaking her head violently.

Silence! the Baroness snapped, and two matching grins of satisfaction appeared on the faces of the stepsisters. The
Baroness, gliding across the carpeted floor reached Cindrillion and towered over her, her dark eyes staring pitilessly
into those of her stepdaughter.

You wretched girl, she said, and slapped Cindrillion across the face. The servant girl let out a muffled cry of pain and
staggered a few steps to the side, clutching her cheek. Joline and Marghenna were beside themselves with wicked
amusement.

You will clean the dining room, then you will go back to the kitchen and prepare a proper meal for my daughters, and
then you will scrub the tapestries in the grand hall. The Baroness paused. All of them. Is that clear?

Cindrillion, trembling, nodded her head.

You may leave now.

There were a few giggles of delight from behind the Baroness, but she ignored them until Cindrillion had crept from
the room.

Girls, she said, a faint smile creeping to her lips as she walked over to her chair and picked up the letter. Ive got
good news from the Duke of Kensing. Prince Galan is visiting our region on an extended vacation.

The two girls let go of each other and straightened up.

And hes searching for a bride.

The squeals of delight that emitted from the room practically shook the whole house.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 8

What do you mean: Theyve made a new weapon? Prince Galan Ashryver looked up from his lunch and gave Fanur,
his long-time friend and advisor, a questioning look.

Fanur dropped the two pieces of parchment down upon the marble table and took a seat beside the Crown Prince. The
wrinkles on his old face showed signs of worry. Your father said in his latest letter, he motioned towards the paper
on the table, that Adarlan seems to have developed a new weapon of warand not just a simple adjustment on a
sword, mind you.

Galan put down his fork and straightened up. Go on, tell me about it, he said, a sense of dread forming in his
stomach.

Fanur sighed. There isnt a name for it yetor at least one that our spies have picked up onbut its unlike anything
this world has ever seen. Its thislong, shaft-like thing, about the size of your desk, made of iron. Inside is this tube
a tube that gets filled with some sort of grayish powder that seems to ignite with flame. Our information was very
minimal on the mechanics of the device, but here is the most important part: because of the reaction of the flame and
powder, it shoots forth thesemelon-sized balls of iron or lead that can smash through wood, stone, or flesh.
Adarlans been testing them on abandoned towns and cities on their borders, checking to see how far these balls can
travel in the airchecking to see how much damage they can cause.

Galan shook his head, unable to get a clear mental picture of it. Do they carry these things around with them on their
shoulders? Is it a foot weapon that every soldier can handle?

The old man glanced down at the letter. Thankfully, no. They stay on the groundor are propped up on wooden
wagonsand require two to three men to handle. From what our sources are saying, they believe them to weigh at
least a thousand pounds, which make them not the easiest weapons to use in a heavy battle.

But they can do significant damage?

Your father says that they can blast a hole in a ship that will sink it in a matter of minutes.

Galan bit down on his lip and pushed his lunch tray away, his appetite gone.

What of magick? What kind of defense would it be against these balls of fire and iron?

Fanur shrugged his shoulders. Your father didnt mention it, but you should ask him in your reply. But I suspect,
Galan, that magick will be of little use against this kind of a weaponeven a fully formed shield might not be strong
enough to repel it. He stood up and walked to the large glass windows that lined one wall of the room. Galan
watched him, noticing the weary air to his walk and the way his frail shoulders seemed to sag beneath this new tide of
ill news.

This will not be a war of magick, Galan, Fanur said in a strained voice, his back to him. This will be a war of mortal
weapons and machinery and wealth. Magick will be of no use for us. Their world is done with itthey chose to throw it
away.

Their king chose to throw it away, Galan said, not the people.

I didnt see much fighting going on from their perspective. Fanur turned to face the young prince. Galan, you have
to understand that they have a very different culturethese people are not like usthey have accepted the changes
that their king has made to their countries and have accepted their position in the world as

As his slaves, you mean. He leaned back in his chair and propped his head up with a hand. I cant believe that a
peopleespecially those of the countries that Adarlan has massacredwould willingly bow to him! He forced his
culture upon themhe destroyed their magick! Why, if he hadnt believed that it was his divine right to rule the world,
Trasien would probably still be

You forget that he is the rightful ruler of Trasien.

Like Hell he is! You and I both know that he had them killedhe killed my kin to gain that throne! He didnt know
why he had brought up Trasienit had always been a sensitive subject for him, one that made his blood boil and his
heart pump with anger.

Fanur gave him a sympathetic look.

Galan felt his upper lip curl into a silent snarl. The people of Trasien know it too. They knew it then and they know it
now and they do nothing. His temper was rising too quicklyhis frustration and grief were beginning to transform
themselves into hatred and rage, and Fanur saw that, and started to worry.

Concerned about his charges growing anger towards Adarlan, Fanur walked back over to Galans side and sat down
once again, placing a hand upon his. Your time will come, Galanyou will have your own time to face Adarlan, but
for now

He picked up the parchment and handed it to the prince. Allow me to summarize your fathers words about your
current situation: find a bride soon.
Galan rolled his eyes and threw the paper onto the table without reading it. I give up, he declared, tossing his hands
into the air. Im going hunting.

Galan was halfway out the door before Fanur called to him, stopping the Crown Prince of Wendlyn in his tracks. Your
father also wanted me to remind you to visit the Baroness du Tremaine and her lovely daughters.

Galan snorted and continued to walk.

Or youll marry one of them.

Galan halted, gave Fanur a horrified look over his shoulder, and then left the room, shaking his head.

Celaena Sardothien looked up from the sink as the Baroness du Tremaine strode in, and was amused by how
elaborately dressed the woman was for just a trip into the servants quarters.

Where is Cindrillion? she said curtly, looking around the kitchen with a sneer on her face.

Celaena shrugged. I havent seen her since noon, she said, and couldnt resist adding, Perhaps shes still upstairs,
admiring the boiling tea that went so well with her dress.

You shouldnt have said that, stupid

The Baroness raised her chin and stared hard at the assassin. For a new servant you have an awful lot of cheek. I
suspect thats partially because youre from Adarlan, and partially because you have the look ofwell, a heathen, to
be frank. Any more replies like that and the only response youll be getting is a kick out the door. And, she raised her
voice to emphasize her last demand, you will address me as Madam, or Baroness, is that clear?

Celaena nodded her head, not taking her eyes away from the Baronesss.

You awful, wretched womanId like to gut you and hang you from the ceilingwait, noId like to hang you from the
ceiling, upside down, skin you alive and then gut youwith my fingernails.

She ran a finger over her nails to see if they were indeed sharp enough and was disappointed to find them barely
more than stubs. She tried to convey her thoughts in her gaze, and felt a surge of satisfaction when the Baroness
titled her head away and looked at the burning fire in the hearth.

Were almost out of wood, the woman declared.

What an intelligent response.

Ah, good-day milady! It was Leighanna, fresh from the laundry room, sweaty and tired, yet still managing to pull off
the expected innate good cheer of a servant. Celaena felt a surge of disgust at seeing an old woman treated so.

The Baroness merely jerked her chin up and down in a swift movement in acknowledgement and then turned towards
Celaena once more. As I was saying, we are almost out of wood. Our rooms are frightfully cold.

Its practically blazing hot here, youyouCelaena grasped onto a dish beneath the soapy water and broke it in two.

Leighanna gently pushed Celaena aside from the sink with a bump from her hips, and looked over her shoulder at the
Baroness. I can fetch Luca, if you desire it, Baroness.

The Baroness kept her eyes on Celaena. No, she said with a slow smile, I believe that our new guest can do the
job quite well. If she puts as much effort into chopping the wood as she does into making disrespectful replies, I can
expect two-hundred logs by dinner.

Two-hundred logs, milady? Leighannas eyes went wide and she wiped her hands clean on her apron. Why, its
practically summer, and begging your pardon, Baroness, buteven in the winter we dont really need two-hundred
logs.
Hold your tongue, woman, the Baroness hissed. I want two-hundred logs by dinner or youll be out on the streets,
girl. Understood?

Celaena, her eyes still on the painted face of the Baroness, forced a smile. Your wish is my command, milady.

Stupid, she hurled the axe downward onto the log, splitting it cleanly into two pieces. Instantly, another was
replaced. Spoiled, another log broken in two. One more log appeared on the stump. Bitch!

There was a murmur of agreement from the ground and Celaena wiped the sweat from her forehead with her spare
hand as the faeries replaced the broken log with a whole one.

I, she began, lifting the axe above her head once again, but then paused, a little to the left, please, it shifted over
in her desired direction. I cant believe, she snarled, slicing through the wood, that she has, another smooth split,
me chopping, crack, two-hundred, thud, pieces of wood! The log flew to the building pile, which only numbered
thirty pieces.

This is practically a tropical climate! What a stupid, stupid woman! Chop thud, chop thud, crack!

Stupid woman, stupid woman! the faeries cheered, and she growled in agreement, not knowing whether they were
mocking or joining in on her wrath.

She worked up a momentum, hurling, pausing, hurling, pausing, one-two, one-two, until it became like the ticking of
a clock to her. It became a raceinventing more interesting ways to slice the wood between each pause and each
chop. Ten points if she could twirl between log replacements, a hundred if she could do something really fancy.

I dont understand, she said, slicing three chunks of wood consecutively, switching from front-hand to back-hand,
and then back to front, how a person like that can exist in a place like this! She took the axe in both hands and
cracked the wood so hard that the blade sunk into the stump.

I mean, what reason does she have to act so damn rotten? If I had that kind of power, she didnt know exactly
whom she was talking to, but she kept on going anyway, Id use it for preserving this place, not making everyone
miserable!

Thats the pot calling the kettle black, isnt it?

That last thought stopped her, breaking the spell of her rhythm. She was panting, and her arm muscles ached.

I couldnt agree more, said a voice, and she whirled around, axe in hand, ready to sever the head of the person who
had intruded on her (rather violent) monologue.

Her heart stopped beating.

It cant be.

Do she started, but then he stepped into the light and her mouth froze in a silent O shape.

It wasnt Dorian, but they looked so much alike that her heart was still beating wildly in her chest. His hair was much
shorter, and he wasnt as tall, but he was more muscular than Dorian, and his eyes were full with shock and slight
trepidation at the sight of a young woman with an axe in her hands.

Who the hell are you? she snapped, glancing him over a few times. He was handsome, but not beautifullike Dorian
was. But he had an air to hima grace and ease that made him seem

Pardon me?

Royal.

Cant you see Im working? she said, wiping the sweat off of her forehead and then motioning to the growing
woodpile.
He cocked his head to the side, puzzled. You seemed to be having a rather interesting conversation, a ghost of a
smile appeared on his shockingly seductive lips, with yourself.

She looked around, and found her co-workers to be gone, probably scared off by this bloke.

Celaena picked up a log and placed it on the stump, gave the young stranger a look that could have meant a
thousand things, and then cracked it in two as if it were butter with a swift backhand blow.

He gulped.

Ill justbe on my way then.

He clicked his tongue and she heard a rustling in the woods around them, which then lead to the appearance of a
stunning black stallion. While he was distracted, she ran an assassins eye over him once again. Getting a good look at
his attire, she could tell that he was in dire need of a drinkand a bath. He was covered from head to foot in a thin
layer of sweat and dirt, and he had quite a few scratches on his hands and through his long-sleeved tunic.

Got into a bit of a battle with a thorn bush, he said, an attractive grin spreading across his face. Celaena was taken
aback by his keen observational skills: a normal person wouldnt have noticed her glance.

Impressive, she said dryly.

He stared at her for a moment, which made her feel irritatingly uncomfortable. Only two people had the ability to
make her feel like that while staring: Dorian DeHavilliard and Arobynn Hamel. She did not want to add this nameless
vagrant to the list.

She moved to pick up a new log and he spoke. Im sorry, butthis might sound crude, but

Celaena raised her eyebrows in exaggerated anticipation.

He shook his head in embarrassment. Butdo I know you from somewhere?

She shook her head in a rather obnoxious way and split another log.

You see, he continued, moving towards her, its just that your eyes arewell, theyre

What? she barked, tossing the wood onto the pile. Where were those damn faeries when she needed them to scare
off someone other than herself? If youre trying to seduce me in some meeting in the woods by fate way, its not
working. Ive got work to do and only a minimal amount of time to do it. I dont have time for romantic antics of any
kind, and Id prefer it if you and your thorn bush could go bother someone else.

His mouth popped open and he straightened up, incredulous. I wasnt trying to seduce you, Mother above! You he
shook his head and looked down at his hands, still in disbelief. I was trying to tell you about the similarity of your
eyes to, well, mine.

Isnt that dainty? she asked with false sweetness. She didnt really have a reason to be mean to this handsome
stranger, other than the fact that she was tired and had more than a hundred logs left to chop and already had a
handsome royal to deal with back in Adarlan.

Whats your name? he asked, not quite getting the point.

None of your business, she replied loftily, and began to ignore him.

Do you live near here?

No. Chop.

Are you visiting?

No. Chop.

Then where, pray tell, are you from?

The moon. Chop, chop.

Oh, really?

Yes. Crack!

Then do you happen to know the Count de Mimsy?

What?

He laughed. Perhaps humor is wasted on the working.

Perhaps I should make myself clear. Go. Away.

He chuckled and stared around the clearing. Have you got a well nearby where I can freshen up a bit?

No.

Is there one within a miles walk?

No.

How do you get your water then?

I drink blood.

What? It was his turn to be stopped still by the others words.

Perhaps humor is wasted on the annoying.

He gasped in mock pain and clutched his chest above his heart. You slay me with your words, fair maiden.

If you dont leave soon, I shall slay you with my axe, my lord.

He laughed once more and nodded his head. Very well, I know where Im not wanted.

Its about damn time you noticed.

He only laughed in response and mounted his horse. You know, he said, looking down at her, Id like to ask you
one question before I go.

Why am I not surprised?

Why is a wood cutter wearing such fine clothing?

Is that a riddle?

He rolled his eyes and clucked to his horse to move forward. Fare thee well, sweet princess! May any dragons that fly
over know well to stay away from this clearing! he called to her over his shoulder, and disappeared into the forest.

Celaena watched him go, and for a second wished that she had been more polite, knowing that if he was indeed a
royal, he might have been her ticket into the palace.
Celaena Sardothien leaned back in the old wooden chair and propped her feet up on the kitchen table, gingerly sipping
at her cup of scalding tea. At the other end sat Cindrillion, Luca, Stephaenya, and Leighanna, deep in conversation.
She didnt feel like talking. Her arms and back were aching, a soreness of muscle that worried her immensely. Was
she getting out of shape? Half a year ago, splitting logs would have been a vacation compared to the salt rocks in the
mines. But now

A thunderhead cracked and roared in the night sky outside.

Adarlans assassinbeaten by wood. Arobynn would hang me.

It wasnt entirely her fault that she was sore. Any normal person would have given up after chopping a hundred, but
not her. She had stuck through until the very last log, and then loaded each one of them into the pushcart Leighanna
had given to her.

She had loved the look on the Baronesss face when she had walked into the courtyard with her wagon overflowing
with exactly two hundred pieces of wood. The woman had then accused her of buying the wood and being lazy, but
had dropped all charges when Celaena had shoved her red and splintered hands in her face as proof of the labor. The
chateau now had enough firewood to last a year. Even if that were how long itd take for her to get out all of the
splinters in her hands.

Celaena had only felt fatigue upon coming back to the estate, but as soon as she sat down at the kitchen table for
dinner and realized that her arms were so stiff that she could barely lift her fork, she had begun to brood over the
declining state of her assassinating skills.

At this rate, I wont be able to kill any member of Wendlyns royal family, let alone an animal. I need to practice. I
cant afford to let my skills be wasted while Im washing dishes! Maybe I can use faeries for target practiceMaybe I
should take up hunting

Rain began to beat on the windows, providing a pleasant tinkling sound. She adjusted herself, wincing at the pain that
raced down her arms in objection to the movement.

Im running out of timeIve got to find a way to break into that palacePerhaps I should have followed those
servants going into the capital and killed one of them off so that I could have a spot. I suppose that would have been
the smartest course of action, wouldnt it? Instead of coming to thisplace. Well, its never too late to leaveI could
knock out some block going into the palace and assume their identity. That might just work

Thunder rattled the kitchen, and Cindrillion and Stephaenya yelped in fright and nearly leapt out of their chairs,
causing Luca and Leighanna to burst into laughter. Celaena smiled with amusement.

After the rain, that is.

She drained her now-drinkable tea and tuned into their conversation.

I heard from Bron today that Adarlans been hiring top criminals to help out in the war, Luca was saying to his
companions.

Criminals? Ha! Leighanna exclaimed, shaking her head. The next thing you know, well be hiring pirates to fight for
us!

There was a flicker of laughter.

Actually, Celaena interrupted, looking down at the table, Wendlyn would do well to hire pirates in this war.

Luca raised an eyebrow. And then wed have a disaster on our hands when theyd switch over to Adarlans side
because of a better offer of gold.

Celaena smiled roguishly, enjoying the feeling of having all eyes on her and knowing that she had some leverage in
this conversation.
Theyre not as mercenary as you might think. True, theyre ruled by treasure and plundering, but they have their
own codetheir own sense of honor and beliefs. If Wendlyn wants a way to keep the pirates on its side, its not
through goldits through keeping the black market open and turning a blind eye to their actions. Adarlans been
trying for years to eliminate their business; and believe me, the pirates are not happy.

They all exchanged wary looks at her words, but it was Cindrillion who spoke next.

Do you know many pirates? she asked, sounding genuinely interested. What a bizarre question!

Celaena tilted her chair back onto the floor and removed her legs from the table, leaning forward. Oh, yes, she said
with a dramatic tone. I know quite a few.

I was wondering how you got over here, Luca sneered. Celaena gave him a pointed look and was about to spit out a
retort when Cindrillion asked another question.

What are they like? As exciting and wretched as they are in books?

Celaena snorted, reflecting on the years she had spent associating with pirates and other scum. Not at all, she
smiled. They live to eat and drink and pillage and fight. They can be fun, but their fighting skills are not aselegant
as they might seem. They just normally shove their swords into the backs of their opponents when theyre not looking
and pretend afterwards like they had a real, honorable fight. Her brows contracted. Have you read a lot of pirate
novels then?

Cindrillion nodded her head vigorously. YesIve got tons stashed away in she trailed off, and looked around
suspiciously, as though she were giving away secret information that could wind up getting her killed if she revealed.
Was she afraid of someone stealing them?

Celaena gave her an assuring wink. Which one is your favorite? Pirate tale, that is. You know, most of them are
trueIf not a bit exaggerated.

Cindrillion considered this for a moment. Id have to sayCaptain Maurgon and his ship of the banned and the
banished.

Celaena smiled broadly at the name. Captain Maurgon-good man.

You know him? Cindrillions eyes had practically popped out onto the table.

She most certainly does not know him! Luca exclaimed, exasperated. Shes just messing around with you,
Cindrillion. Dont listen to

I am not messing around! I have met MaurgonI can give you details of the

When? When you were at the palace? Did you invite him for tea?

For your information, I met Maurgon at Skulls Bay seaport, off the coast of

Like you would ever be caught in Skulls Bay!

Why you insolent, awful

Childrenhush! Leighanna smacked the table. Stephaenya looked appalled, as usual. Cindrillion, however, still
seemed to be waiting for an answer.

You really met Maurgon?

Celaena shot Luca a silencing look before responding. Yes, many years ago.

At Skulls Bay?
Yes.

What in Hell were you doing there? Luca asked.

Celaena shrugged. If she told them the truth, theyd all probably run out of the room at high speed.

Skulls Baywhat a placewhat an adventure!

I had some business therean errand ofthe Crown Prince.

Luca grinned. The capable one?

She glared at him. Yes, the capable one, she hissed.

What was he like? Cindrillion continued, practically falling out of her chair.

Celaena closed her eyes for a moment in order to conjure up the memory. Tall, loud, arrogant, and crude. But suave
and charming in his own wayjust as the stories describe him. Apparently, having a few books written about him and
almost an entire fleet of pirate ships at his command has really gotten to his head.

Did you also meet the crew?

Celaena shook her head. Unfortunately, no. I was in a meeting with several crime leaders and the crew

What exactly did you do for the Crown Prince? Luca interrupted.

Shit. Think! What have you said before! Just say something stupid

I was a kind of mix between messenger, advisor, and servant. I did a lot of business traveling for him.

Whyd you leave?

Im not done telling Cindrillion about Maurgon. Anyway, she turned back to the young woman, I did not meet the
crew, due to the fact that I was in a meeting with Maurgon alone.

And with other pirates? Cindrillion asked, still eager to hear about the man.

Yes.

Like who?

Well, Captains Blackgold, Farview, and Heldown were there, but it wasnt only pirates Her eyes began to glitter
with remembrance of the eventthe secret council of the worlds top criminals that had met one stormy night in the
worlds most feared town. There were thieves and assassins and

What exactly was the Crown Princes messenger doing with such company? Luca burst in again, unable to keep his
mouth shut.

None of your business, thats what.

Did you meet anyone else as grandly interesting as Maurgon? Cindrillion had moved down to Celaenas end of the
table and was now sitting awfully close to her.

A half smile twisted Celaenas fine features. She couldnt resist.

I met Adarlans assassin: Celaena Sardothien, she said softly, trying to contain her amusement.
Cindrillions eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates, and she heard a sharp intake of breath from down the table.
But she kept her eyes locked on Cindrillions, their heads so close that they were almost touching.

You met Adarlans assassin? the young woman whispered, in awe.

Indeed, I did. Quite a fascinating person, Celaena Sardothien. Oh! It was too much! She felt like laughing
hysterically. If they only knew!

If you met Adarlans assassin, Luca began again, his tone dripping with disbelief, and Celaena rolled her eyes, then
you can finally settle our debate over whether its a man or a woman. Stephaenya believes that its a womanin fact,
shes so obsessed with the idea that its practically a religion for her. Just tell her shes wrong, will you?

Celaena looked down the table at Stephaenya as if she had never seen her before.

What makes you think Adarlan assassin is a woman? she asked too quietly.

Stephaenya was staring down at the table, the light of the hearth casting shadows on her young face. Iwell, the
name Celaena is very feminineand though there are names that can be used for either sex, Celaena is not one of
them. Also, I think the, er, results of her work are too creative and artistic in their own way to be done by a man. If
you put two and two together, youll find that around the time Sardothien began killing, there was this mysterious
young maiden that kept on showing up and then disappearing at all of the functions where politicians were killed. At
first, she was believed to be the killer, but then she was soon forgotten. It would be the perfect disguiseno one
would suspect a beautiful maiden of being an assassinespecially in

How do you know all of this? Celaena asked, dumbfounded. Why had this country girl figured it out what an entire
world could not?

She spends too much time gossiping in town, Luca replied for her. Stephaenya snarled at him.

I read the papers, thats how. The library has a good collection of Adarlans newspapers before the blockade was
issued, and Ive spent some time looking through them to prove Luca wrong.

Hes right, Celaena said, you are obsessed. She grinned, and suddenly felt a burning desire to reveal herself. She
might have, if she didnt know that they would have fled, screaming, and then sent the authorities to take her to
prison.

So, is Adarlans assassin a man or woman? Luca said, and the young pair looked ready to burst.

Celaena gave them a lazy smile, and decided to keep on sending Stephaenya to the library. Maybe shed drag Luca
along with hera little reading would do him good. Besides, some mysteries are best left unrevealed.

I didnt get to find outSardothien had a hood, cape, and mask on that not only hid the face, but also warped his or
her voice so that it was impossible to tell. That was true, of course. She had dressed like that for her own protection
and to keep the aura of mystery around her.

Luca and Stephaenya let out cries of frustration and threw their hands up in the air. You cant be serious! We finally
meet one person whos actually met Sardothien and they dont know the answer to the most important question of
our lives! Luca looked ready to cry.

Whats the deal on your obsession with Celaena Sardothien, anyway? What has Adarlans assassin done to earn so
many hours of research and debate? She kept a confused expression on her face. Inside, she was gloating like never
before.

Well, anyone who spends their lives destroying Adarlans royals is already worthy of attention. It makes it
exceptionally interesting when that person is the greatest assassin ever to walk the earth. Lucas eyes had a dreamy
glaze to them.

Ha! Ha, ha, ha! Ooh! Yes! Thank you, thank you! I am the greatest assassin, arent I? Yes, I know, I know! Ha! HA
HA!
Why do you have that smirk on your face? Luca asked suddenly.

What?

You look immensely pleased with yourself.

Celaena immediately cleared her face. Shit.

So, you like Sardothien because she began.

Because she, Stephaenya said, has avenged the death and agony of the countless souls tortured by Adarlan.

Hmm. Ive never thought of my work in that light. I wonder how many other people see it in such a manner?

So, Adarlans assassin is like a dark hero for you?

Not just to me, to all of Wendlyn!

WHAT?

Celaena began to feel uncomfortably guilty. Very guilty. Almost ashamed of herself. She was here to assassinate the
king of a country that admired her. This was getting too complicated too quickly.

I had no idea Wendlyn had even heard of Celaena Sardothien.

Cindrillion cleared her throat and smiled. Is Adarlans assassin nice? Had this girl been listening at all? What a
random question!

Of course. Sardothien is very polite, intelligent, and well-bred.

Sometimes.

Polite to everyone except Adarlans politicians, that is, Luca chuckled.

Howd Sardothien interact with Maurgon?

What? Celaena raised an eyebrow at Cindrillion.

Did Celaena Sardothien and Maurgon get along?

Celaena burst out laughing in her mind. She had Maurgon had almost torn each other to shreds in that council
meeting! Well, someone had strategically placed Maurgon and Sardothien at opposite ends of the table, so there
wasnt much interaction. Except when he called me a blasted demon and I called him a disgusting ogre . Out of
consideration, I think they tried their hardest to ignore each otherthe last thing any of us needed was for them to
rip apart Skulls Bay in a fight. But we did anyways. Just for fun. Gods above, sometimes I miss those days!

Sardothien has that sort of temper then? Cindrillion looked so absorbed into the glamour of the criminal life that
Celaena thought she was about to spit on her hands, slit a few throats, and hoist the black sail.

If you mean that Sardothien, once provoked, wont stop until all life is annihilated, then sure.

Why did all of these criminals get together to meet the princes advisor? Isnt that against everything they believe in?
Isnt it too risky? It was Luca again, shattering the black glitter of her tale. Couldnt he stop asking nosy questions?

I told you, she growled, its none of your damn business.

Cindrillion tapped Celaenas hand to get her attention once again. Tell me more about Maurgonand Sardothien, she
pleaded, and an arrogant grin spread across Celaenas face as she delved into an elaborate and exaggerated tale of
her infamous days as an assassin.
Crown Prince Galan Ashryver wrapped the last bandage around his arm and hissed through his teeth as Fanur applied
a stinging healing balm to his shoulder.

It must have been an impressive thorn bush, Fanur chuckled, and Galan snarled with contempt.

It practically attacked meI swear, some faeries must have enchanted it to

Galan, though your ego may be bruised, it would be best if youd just admit that your sense of direction failed you
miserably.

Galan tossed his head and glanced out the window looking at the forest that stretched forward to the distant base of
the mountains. You can say that again, he muttered.

Whats that? Fanur asked, and handed him a new shirt.

Oh, its nothing he said as he struggled to get the shirt over his bandages and salve-sticky skin. I just more
strugglingmet this the shirt got tangled around his arms. Damn it all to Hell! he roared and had a mild
spasming fit to get the shirt either on or off of him.

Fanur laughed and helped the young prince get the tunic on.

Thank you, Galan said, and smoothed his black hair. He reached for his sword belt and attached it around his waist
before slipping a slender hunting knife into his boot.

Youre wearing an awful lot of weaponry for someone about to eat dinner. Are we going into battle? Perhaps with a
particular thorn bush?

Galan smiled foolishly. Perhaps.

You dont want to offend our guests, you know.

With what? Its not as if Im going to use these things at the table! Theyre justfor decoration.

Fanur clicked his tongue. Youth these days

Galan grinned and looked in the mirror. He must have looked like a hideous beast to that young woman! Thatlovely
young woman

You were saying something about meeting someone? The girl of your dreams, perhaps? Fanur looked extremely
hopeful. The old man wanted this damned tour over as quickly as the Crown Prince did.

He raised his eyebrows at Fanur and then felt another smile creep to his lips at the thought of her. More like the girl
of my nightmares.

Thats a lie! You liked her!

Oh, really?

Well, no. She wasnt so badjust verybusy.

Busy?

Chopping wood.

Chopping wood?

Yes.

I was hoping youd met a noble.

Well, she was wearing very fine and expensive-looking clothing.

Oh? Whats her name?

Galan blushed. She refused to tell me.

Fanur blinked a few times. She refused to tell her name to the Crown Prince of Wendlyn?

I didnt tell her who I was.

Well, if she were a noble, she would have recognized you.

She said she wasnt from around here.

Whats that got to do with anything? If she were a noble from anywhere, shed have known who you are!

I was covered in dirt and blood! I looked a fright!

Fanur considered this. True, he admitted. How fine, exactly, was her clothing.

Top-quality. Very inappropriate for chopping wood. Galan bit down on a grin.

Did she at least act like a lady?

Uhno.

No?

Well, she was very busy

Chopping wood.

Yes.

Fanur sighed and rubbed his temples. Your father wanted you interested in a noble, not

Whats wrong with commoners? Theyre the backbone of this countrythey deserve as much we respect as we do, if
not more. They actually have to work for a living.

To his surprise, Fanur smiled kindly and shook his head. Prince Galan, I firmly believe that you will be a fine king
some day. Hopefully Ill live to see itif you dont cause my nerves to snap before then.

The old man eyed his young charge. Is she at least attractive?

Unnecessarily beautiful.

What does she

Actually, I noticed the most bizarre thing about her! Her eyesthey were just like mine!

A lot of people have blue eyes, Galan.

Nothese were Ashryver eyes! Hopefully shes not a bastard sister or somethingOh, thatd be horrible.

Like I said, a lot of people have blue eyes.

With a band of gold and green in the center?

The healing balm has gone to your head.

No! I swear we had the same eyes!

Do you honestly want to be interested in a girl who could be a relative?

No.

Then I suggest you drop the issue.

Galan fiddled with his sword belt, and grinned once more to himself at the memory of the fiery woodcutter.

Ah, Fanur he said, and looked out towards the forest again, she was such a vision! A real, natural beauty! And her
character! Ive never had anyone speak to me like that!

Probably because everyone else in this country knows who you are, Fanur said dryly.

Noit wasnt like thatshe would have spoken to me in that manner even if I had told her who I am!

How exactly did she speak to you?

As if I were a nuisance.

What?

Well, she was quite sassy, and always had a snide or clever remark to make.

She sounds more like a bitch than a vision.

It was quite refreshing.

It must have been if you enjoyed it that much.

She was really somethingshe had this golden hair and she was tall and looked likelike a real woman, no some
pampered and painted ninny.

And you have no idea what her name is?

None whatsoever.

Where did you meet her?

UmIn the woods.

Yes, I know thatwhere in the woods?

Galan winced. I didnt bother to mark the spot in my mind. Damn! I rode all over this area! She could have been
anywhere! Damn, damn, and triple damn!

Why am I not surprised?

I was practically cut to ribbons! I was in a bad physical state! And she was very disarmingespecially with the way
she used that axeshe did this backhand cutting thing that was

Your father is going to fall to pieces over this romance.

Romance? Romance? Its not a romance! Ah, Im not that serious about her. Justfascinated.
Fanur gave him a weighing look. It had better not be anything more than a fascinationcommoner or not, I dont
think that a rude, outspoken woodcutter is exactly appropriate for a prince.

Galan shrugged his shoulders and strode towards the door. She had been so beautiful

If this rain stops before tomorrow morning, he pointed at the rain clouds that were about to break, I think Ill take
another rideperhaps Ill run into another thorn bushand hopefully another Hellcat. With that, he patted the
pommel of his sword, winked at Fanur, and walked from the room, humming a tune to himself.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 9

Dark water silently lapped onto the hard lip of beach along Wendlyns coast, its glassy surface marred only by
moonlight. In the distance, thunder grumbled as it turned over in a bed of mountains, a signal that the spring rains
were soon to arrive. Sounds of merrymaking trickled down from the small town that lay nearby, a town that marked
its years in terms of holidays and celebrations, a town that had no idea the evil that was slowly infiltrating the area.

Peregrinno.

As clouds gathered around the moon and cloaked its light, six circles of ripples broke the smooth face of the water,
revealing six cloaked heads. They swam towards the beach, nothing more than trails of treaded water, and then crept
onto the sand like slithering shadows. A sliver of moonlight broke through the dark, revealing the royal seals that
were embroidered upon the breasts of their cloaks. Their leader motioned to conceal them from sight, and they
obeyed, ripping off the badges with flicks of their swords. They were tired, and soaked through, but fear of the
consequences of their failure had fueled them to swim the two miles to shore. There had been eight of them when
they had left the ship, and two had been lost to the horrors of the merciless sea.

Though all they wanted was to lay upon the sand and sleep, their leader urged them on, silently pointing towards the
trees that led up to the shore. It was in these woods that they would meet the others--the other soldiers that Adarlan
had snuck into Wendlyn. Every night, more would arrive, tired and aching, on this beach from the fleet of battleships
that sat just outside the barrier reefs that guarded Wendlyn.

Despite their condition, they nimbly climbed over the rocks that led to the forest, their leader issuing the animal-like
cry that would gain them access to the safety of their concealed camp. They walked onwards, half-wishing that they
hadnt come on this mission, reminiscing about the comforts of home.

When they reached the hidden camp deep within the woods, they were near to collapsing, and several dry and strong
hands guided them to warm beds and clothing. Before consciousness faded away into exhausted oblivion, the leader
of the six paused to marvel at the several hundred soldiers that had slipped through Wendlyns border and now lay
sleeping in fireless tents.

In the distance, the sound of wild instruments filled the air, and Peregrinno continued to go on with its celebration,
unaware.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they walked in silence down the marble corridor. She stared ahead,
running through in her head the meeting that had just occurred. She had been here for two weeks and she was still
not comfortable with seeing the assassins guild gathered in one room without any fear of authority. Arobynn had
assured her that the assassin she dreaded was not part of their guild, but every time she saw them assembled, a ball
of fear dropped into her stomach and she found her nerves to be so badly on-edge that she often had vomiting fits
afterwards.

But today had been different. Today something had changed. As usual, she had been sitting inconspicuously in the
back of the room, paying more attention to the floor than to the men seated in rows before Arobynn. For some
reason, one of the assassins had suddenly taken notice of her, and conversation had shifted dramatically. The
assassin was angry with Arobynn, infuriated by some political debate that was consuming their arguments, and before
anyone could react, a long-bladed knife had been hurled at her head. In a startling display of reflexes, she moved her
head out of the way, the knife burying itself in the wall so close to her ear that a few strands of her golden hair were
sliced off.
The entire room was silent for a split second, and then there came a terrible whooshing sound of a second knife being
thrown through the air. She watched the eyes of the assassin grow wide with shock, and before he could utter a word,
he slumped down in his chair, dead. She raised her eyes to Arobynn Hamels face and saw an anger and fear that
scared her more than any knife. It was then that she realized that he had killed one of his prized assassins for her
sake. He had killed a mature and skilled assassin to protect her.

Almost as if to prove her realization, Arobynn then walked up to the cooling corpse and removed his gilded dagger
from its back, turning to the rest of the people in the room and threatening that any more attempts to end her life
would result in the end of theirs. He had then forced them to swear an oath not to lay a hand on her--under penalty
of death. The meeting resumed after that--listings of the politicians and nobles that were in the market, which were
off-limits, and which deserved to be killed, but she had only stared at Arobynn, wondering what she had done to
deserve the eternal safety that she had just been granted.

No one could touch her.

She removed the assassins knife from the wall, and spent the remaining time stroking the smooth steel blade, lost in
thought.

They were now walking back towards their wind of the assassins manor, the dagger she had taken from the room
hidden in the folds of her dress. Symeth kept on glancing from her to Arobynn and back again, the young boy
obviously jealous and upset that Arobynns order of protection had not extended to him as well. Arobynn chose to
ignore the boy, and stared ahead as blankly as she was doing, his red hair blazing in the dying light of sunset.
Eventually, he turned his head to look at the two children, his face grave.

Dyou two understand what just happened in there? he asked softly, his steel eyes hammering into her soul.

You gave her a damn order of immunity and left me wide open for assassination! Symeth said, angryas usual.

Whod want to kill you? Arobynn snarled, and clicked his tongue impatiently.

Whod want to kill her? Symeth spat back, feeling no fear towards the King of Assassins.

She looked down at the floor, answering Symeths question in her mind, and felt the familiar swell of nausea rise to
her throat.

Hooves poundingScreamingDead, dead, deadRunning, runningfalling, falling

Arobynn stuck out a foot and tripped the boy, a light punishment for the beating the man felt like giving him. Symeth
stuck out his tongue and looked at her, his brows crinkling.

Whats wrong with her face? Whys she so damn pale?

Arobynn concealed the worry that snapped through him like lightning, and placed a hand on her shoulder to give to
her extra support, but the flood of memories continued to drown her mind.

Someone out there was looking for her, someone knew that she was alive and would fight to the death to get her
backSomeoneAnyone

Celaena he said, and she suddenly turned her head upwards to look at him, repulsion and anger flashing through
her veins.

Thats not my name, she hissed. She was so tired of this constant fear; of this awful placeShe was tired of the
memories and of thinking about that night

It is now, Arobynn growled dangerously. She was so sick of this life that had suddenly been forced upon her. She
wanted to be back where she belonged, back with the court, with her family

I hate you, she said, her voice trembling. I hate you! she said, louder. Why wouldnt he let her go? Why was she
stuck here, doing all of this work and training? She just wanted to see the court, she wanted the safety and love of
the Inner Circle--they were still alive, werent they? They would take her inthey wouldnt make her do what Arobynn
saidshe could pretend to be someone else, and they could take care of her and

I HATE YOU! she screamed at Arobynn, forgetting all fear, and the glass windows rattled in response. She didnt
care what Arobynn had said about her gifts, she wanted to leave.

Now

The panes of glass cracked and screamed, and dust and small rocks crumbled from the ceiling high above. She
wanted to rip Arobynn apart for keeping her here--she wanted to destroy them all

The windows wailed in protest as the glass cracked and splintered, and she would have sent the shards flying into
Arobynns skull if he hadnt first smacked her hard across the face. The force of the blow knocked her off her feet, and
her rage vanished into pain and fear. Hot tears of humiliation and hopeless despair began to roll down her face.

If you hate me, then leave, he said calmly, his gray eyes like granite, but if you return home, you and everyone
else you love will die. Dyou really want to be responsible for thatagain? Dyou want to be that selfish? He roughly
lifted her to her feet and smiled gently. Youre safe hereand as long as you stay with me, no one else will die. But
you cant stay here if you continue to use your real name, because that could lead to many more deaths and
complications. Dyou understand?

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened up, her will solidifying itself. No one else would die
because of her. She would see to it. Yes, she said meekly. Symeth was looking about the damaged hallway with an
expression that showed that he was about to faint. Arobynn ignored him.

Then, Celaena, how about we get something to eat from the kitchens and then have a little discussion about whats
going on in this crazy world of ours?

She nodded firmly, sealing her memories away once more, and let the King of Assassins put a strong arm around her
small shoulders, leading her away from the mess that she had made. He whistled for Symeth, and the young boy
darted forward, eager to leave the cracked windows and crumbled rock far behind.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien looked up from the dishes she was scrubbing and wondered how long she had been lost in
thought. The sky was a light gray, the sun poking through in bits and pieces that sent strange patches of light across
the land. Lunch had just finished, and she was already about to fall asleep. Since accepting the existence of faeries,
they thought it was suitable to include her in Cindrillions morning musical sequence. Which meant that she was up at
dawn.

Yes, dawn.

She let out a loud yawn and placed a clean plate on the drying rack.

Leighanna had gone into town with Stephaenya to buy some sort of household necessity, and while Celaena would
have liked to have gone with them, Stephaenya had reminded her that she had a sink full of dishes to wash before
dinner. Cindrillion was nowhere to be found, and Luca was busy working in the fields. Even the faeries had gone off
somewhere more interesting. Which meant she had no one to keep her company. Except for the screeching hags
upstairs.

It was so quiet in the kitchen, however, that she could hear the flies buzzing around her.

Three years ago, she would have been enjoying the fine pleasures of lifethe opera, the ballet, excellent food and
company, and loads of books to read. But now

In the silence, nothing could keep her memories at bay.

She was alarmed at the rate which her memories were coming back to her--memories of people and places that had
long since disappeared in the folds of time. She thought about things that she had trained herself to forget--things
that should have stayed lost in the catacombs of her mind. Her dreams these past few nights had been troubled, and
with each passing night, they became clearer. Faces called to her, their words etching themselves into her heart, and
from the depths of her soul, she felt the aching of shameful regret.

Once you meet someone, you never really forget them...it just takes a while for the memory to come back.

Who had said that to her? She couldnt remember. She could never remember the things she wanted to recall, and
the things that she desired to forget wouldnt let her be. Sometimes it felt as if she were running in circle, hunting and
hunted, flying towards something that she couldnt control. She knew that if she stopped, what was chasing her would
catch up, but if she were to keep on going, she was terrified of what she might find. There were many unanswered
questions in her mind, but she knew that if she sought their answers, many other foul ones would also reveal
themselves.

She cleaned her last dish and wiped her hands dry on her apron, finding herself without anything to do. There were
four hours until she would be needed again, which meant that she could do practically anything she wanted.

Perhaps train a little?

What if she was losing her touch? What if she wasnt the best assassin in the world anymore? She picked up a knife
from the drying rack and ran her hands over it, finding it bizarre to hold her favorite weapon once again. She really
was out of practice.

A fly buzzed around her head a few times and then landed on the hearth wall on the far side of the room, picking over
the remains of whatever had splattered there.

She eyed it and then looked down at the knife. When she had been younger, she and Symeth had had contests to
determine which of them possessed better aim. They had picked impossible targets, and naturally, she had never lost,
but it still had been excellent training.

The flys front feelers picked through the substance greedily, and it moved to better position itself.

She subconsciously calculated the angle and distance, and the strength needed to sink the blade into the wall and
squish the bug. It was barely more than a speck on the wall, but if she missed this, there was no hope for her. Her
hand cocked itself, pausing for a second to gain momentum, and then she sent it flying across the room with a silent
prayer.

With a thud, it embedded itself into the wall, splattering the fly as it passed through its fat little body.

Celaena grinned widely.

So maybe she wasnt losing her touch.

Another fly flew over to investigate the remains of its kin, and Celaena immediately had another knife in hand. A
second later, there was another thud, and another fly was spread over the wall.

She laughed aloud in triumph and relief.

Adarlans assassin lives!

Good will and cheer spread through her like wildfire, and she found herself grinning like a fool.

The gray clouds suddenly seemed much more pleasant, and she looked out the half-door and found an urge to go into
the forest. She wanted to explore! She wanted to learn! She wanted adventure!

Leaping over the door, she strode down the dirt path towards the forest, humming to herself. She wanted to sing and
dance!

But shed wait until she got out of public view for that. Though her aim might be stellar, her voice was unfortunately
as pleasant as the sound of nails on a board. But it didnt matter! She hadnt lost her touch and could kill anything,
even a fly, and would get her job done as quickly as an opportunity arose!
She reached the woods and quickly set about losing herself in the endless rows of trees, listening keenly to every bird
and animal until she was so immersed in the canopied world that she thought she could feel it breathing.

The woods around her grew thicker, and with each light step she took, her good mood seemed to improve to the point
where she thought she was ready to burst. She was so relievedafter days of sore muscles and broodingto know
that her most important skills were as good as ever. Plans for the future began to pour into her mind, and she did a
little dance step along the fading path. She glanced upward to position herself so that she wouldnt get entirely lost,
and then walked off the path into the trees.

There was a change in the air that was almost immediate. It felt wilder, more ancient, more sacred. It was the same
feeling that she had felt upon first entering the forest, but more overwhelming. But, as soon as it had come, the
feeling melted into her, and seemed to pick up on her good spirits. The sunlight shone brighter through the trees, and
the birds sang louder, and for the first time in a while, Celaena Sardothien felt truly free.

She laughed aloud with joyhow wonderful this world was!

Before she could control herself, she began to singshe didnt really know what she was singing, it was more like
singing random notes and words, but it satisfied her mood and fit the occasion. Besides, who would hear her?

A memory flashed into her mind, one where someone had been trying to teach her to carry a tune, but had given up
due to her lack ofinnate talent.

Why cant you tell the difference between an A and a B?

Who cares?

A frustrated pause. Every young lady should know how to sing.

Thaelius says its a waste of my time.

A disgruntled sigh. Try again.

Why?

Because your uncle is paying me to teach you!

But I dont like to sing. In case you havent noticed, Im very poor at it.

Just try it again.

But Thaelius says--

Thaelius can jump in a fountain for all I care! Sing!

Youre looking very flushed. Would you care for some water?

I would care for you to sing so that I can tell your uncle that you accomplished something!

Hes not going to behead you or anything if I dont.

He paid me to do this so that his heir could grow to be a respectable young woman!

I dont think that having a good singing voice qualifies you for respectability.

There was a small scream of despair that was then followed by the slamming of a door.

Celaena grinned to herself. What a terrible child shed been! That singing tutor had never returned after thatand
both her uncle and parents never again attempted to bring up the subject. Before any more of the memory could
affect her, she pushed it back into her mind. She couldnt think about the past
Her voice rose and fell, and she didnt care how many times it cracked. All that mattered now was the fact that she
wasnt losing her touch and that she would be free in a matter of a few months!

FreeForever. To do what I please. Maybe Ill move here. Maybe Ill move to the end of the world and begin again.
Maybe

Celaena sang louder and skipped through the trees, caught up in the wild euphoria of the prospect of long-awaited
freedom.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Crown Prince Galan Ashryver winced at the braying noise that was emitting from some dying animal in the forest. It
was positively awful! Almost unbearable. He moved his horse into motion to follow the noise, hoping to put the poor
creature out of its misery. He had never heard an animal make a sound like that, and was hoping that it might be
something interesting and undiscovered, so he urged his horse to move faster through the thick lines of trees.

He was surprised to find that the sound was actually moving. It seemed to be drifting all around these woods, as if the
animal were staggering and

Galan ground his teeth as an exceptionally loud and wretched screech blasted through the woods.

What in Hell is it?

He drew an arrow from his quiver, knocking it into his bow, and followed the sound, flinching as he got nearer to the
source. His horse snorted and laid its ears back in irritation.

The sound was loud and awful, but he could have sworn it was almost melodical in a bizarre way. He raised his bow
and burst into sight of the animal, and then stopped short.

It was her.

She whirled to face him, her face full of surprise, and a silence filled the forest.

Galan began to laugh, unable to control himself. She had been the animal making the noise! She had been singing!
What were the odds of that! There had to be some sort of divine intervention in this! Perhaps he should be taking this
more seriously. But the sounds she had been making echoed through his head and his laughter increased.

May I help you? she snapped, her face flushing.

You were the thing making that noise! he exclaimed, putting away his bow and arrow. I thought you were a dying
animal! He clutched his side with laughter. He had never heard such poor singing!

She growled and began to walk away.

He stopped laughing immediately and dismounted his horse. Please, dont go! he called after her, and despite
himself, began to chuckle again. I didnt mean to offend you, its just that

She made a very vulgar gesture in his direction.

He laughed again. Are you ever in a good mood?

She gave him a killing glare. I was until you showed up.

He looked her over. She wasnt wearing the fine clothes that she had worn yesterday. In fact, they were rather
common. Who the hell was she?

What are you doing in these woods? he asked her, motioning to the area around them.

What are you doing in these woods? she retorted.

Just hunting.

How stimulating.

He cocked his head to the side. Dont you ever take a break?

From what?

From being so snide and mean.

If you dont like it, then leave.

Galan opened his mouth in objection, but found no suitable words to reply.

But then she looked at him, and her brows contracted.

What? he asked, unable to keep his curiosity to himself. This forest was hugethe chances of their meeting had to
be fated! For some reason, he wanted to know about her, though everything seemed to tell him that he should just
ride on.

What do you mean what? she asked rudely, but didnt make any motion to leave.

You looked at me in a bizarre way.

So?

So, I want to know why.

Shouldnt you be off killing some poor animal?

He grinned. I thought I wasbut the animal turned out to be you.

To his surprise, she actually smiled. And then laughed. Not a chuckle, but a full-throated cackle of amusement and
embarrassment. He smiled at her, thinking to himself how much prettier she looked when she wasnt sneering at him.

I was that bad, then? she said when she had finished.

He nodded his head. Worse than badalmost detrimental to my eardrums.

She covered her mouth with a hand to hide her smile. And then shook her head, laughing again. Some things never
change, do they?

I take it that singing is not your innate talent?

She nodded, and leaned against a large oak tree, giving him a calculating look. Say, whats your name anyway? she
asked him, confirming his earlier assumption that she hadnt recognized him. But at least she was interested in him!

However, since he was afraid of her reaction to his title, he gave her his name only. Galan, he said. Whats yours?

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. None of your business.

I thought that you were going to be nice!

She snorted. Niceness is overrated. I believe that my name will have to wait until our next meeting, Galan she
trailed off, waiting for him to give her his last name.

He raised his head and looked down his nose at her. I believe that my last name will have to wait until our next
meeting, he mocked. She laughed again.
Very well, she said, and stood up straight, making to leave. Until our next meeting, Galan Whos-withholding-his-
last-name-until-our-next-chance-encounter.

Wait-- he blurted out as she turned away.

Yes? She looked back over her shoulder.

Where do you live?

That might have to wait until the meeting after-next.

Why are you so frustrating? he demanded, running a hand through his hair.

Why are you so curious? she replied, and continued to walk away.

Because you fascinate me! he tried in a last attempt.

He heard her laugh spitefully. Then she called over her shoulder, Thats pretty patheticyou dont even know me.
What you need is a good book to read! Go back to your manor or wherever you live and do something productive with
your timehunting animals and women never did anyone any good!

His horse snorted as if in agreement, and he gave it a reproachful look. When he turned back to watch her walk away,
he found that, not-surprisingly, she had vanished.

Shaking his head, yet unable to keep a smile from his face, Galan Ashryver mounted his horse and moved on, looking
for sweeter game. They would meet again, he knew ithe felt it in his bones. After all, how hard could it be to find
someone who sang so badly that even the birds stopped chirping and flew as far away as possible?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard sat in the kennel stall and stared blankly at the pile of hay that lay across from him. In the far
corner of the stall slept Fleetfoot, exhausted from a morning of intense running and training. He was surprised at how
much the animal lived up to the name her mistress had given herthe dog was easily able to outrun most of the
older, larger dogs in the kennels. It had taken a while for the animal to begin to trust him, but soon the joined bond of
a missing woman in their lives had brought them closer together. These days, he preferred the company of animals to
that of humans.

Dorian looked at the straw and frowned.

Humans seemed to overreact to everything.

Especially abnormalities.

He had been trying to keep his magick hidden, but he found that with each passing day, it was revealing itself in new
ways. If he were angry, hed often find that the temperature had dropped severely, and that cold wind would always
burst through the room. If he were in his bathing pool and found that his water was a bit too cold, the unspoken wish
for warmer water would suddenly come true--often resulting in boiling water that scalded his skin. He had no idea
how to control it other than to keep a tight rein on his emotions and thoughts, but even that was a solution that often
failed.

He didnt know of anyone that understood and used magickthanks to his father, it was banned in Adarlanand for
the Crown Prince to suddenly have a power that his father had made out to be beyond all evil, it was simply

Horrifying.

He couldnt even research his strange powers on his own--every book and source had been burned and buried long
ago. Even in Trasien, where magick had once been said to be the strongest, there was nothing to be found. His father
had seen to it that every last remnant of magick was eliminated, and, like his complete control over this side of the
ocean, his father had succeeded.
He knew that he couldnt tell Chaol about itand the one person that he hoped he could trust was thousands of miles
away. She had come from Trasien, and was old enough to probably remember what magick was like. After living the
life she had led, nothing would probably surprise her. True, she might see him differently, but she had known her own
share of oddities, hadnt she?

Dorian narrowed his brows as another thought came to mind.

Just how far did his powers stretch? After that day in his fathers throne room, he had proven that he was capable of
making objects move? But what if that was the wind that had broken the glass? Were his powers elemental? Could he
control temperature and wind only? Or were his powers also telekinetic?

He looked at the individual pieces of hay and suddenly wondered if he could get them to move on their own. He
listened to the sounds of the kennels for a moment to make sure that no one was around, and then cast a glance at
Fleetfoot to make sure that she was still asleep.

Then, staring hard at a single piece of hay, he willed it to stand up straight.

Nothing happened.

Trying again, he reached out with his thoughts, as if he were trying to understand the nature of the hay, and bade it
to move. No movement. He thought back to what he had felt when he had done things beforea rush of electric
energy that coursed through his veins with pleasurable force. But he didnt know where it had come from. It just
seemed to appear in him whenever it felt like, but especially when he was angry.

But it was a bit difficult to be angry at a piece of hay.

He knew that he shouldnt be even trying to get his magick to work, that it was violating the law and what he had
been raised to do, but there was something about his powers that just seemed so natural, so non-threatening, so
normal

It just felt right.

He cursed himself for even thinking that, but he couldnt stop himself. Everything seemed to be rushing towards him
with blinding speedhis magick, the war with Wendlyn, his relationship with his father, Celaenas fate

He felt that if he paused for a moment to act on one thing, everything else would pass him by.

But right now

Dorian DeHavilliard looked at the piece of hay once more. Maybe magick could be a useful toolsomething that could
help them conquer Wendlyn. He knew that they were developing technology to help them win the war, but perhaps
his powers could be of some (minimal) use

His blue eyes narrowed as he reached with his mind towards the straw, imagining that it was standing up straight,
imagining it moving, imagining it following his will

The air on his arms prickled as he felt the familiar feeling creep back into his veins like syrup. Not too much force,
only enough to pick up one straw...

Move, damn you...Move...

He could feel the magick building up beneath his skin, and then with one sharp breath, it faded like a wave receding
from the shore. But then another wave broke, and crashed out of him, sending chills through his body as it passed
through.

The straw moved.

It flinched, jerking upwards, and Dorian was so startled that he broke his concentration. Before it could disappear, he
picked up the electric feeling again and pushed it towards the straw, willing it to stand on its own. It quivered and
shook, and as he steadied himself, it suddenly stood upright, as straight as a needle.
He stared in wonder at the straw, and as every nerve on his body ached and burned and buzzed with the power that
he was holding, he realized where the magick had come from.

His blood.

He felt it there, and felt more if it slumbering beneath what he had called up.

Unable to resist the allure of the magick, he reached out again and stood up two more pieces of hay. A sweat had
begun to break on his brow, but he willed them to move again, the three pieces floating around and exchanging
places like dancers at a ball.

He was amazed and terrified all at once. If he had this kind of power at his disposal, hed never have to get up to do
anything! If he wanted a glass of water or a pen or a book, he could just reach out with his power and summon them
to him! Hed never have to

I thought Id find you here.

Dorian gave a start and jumped upwards, and there was a mild explosion of hay from across from him.

It was Chaol.

His friend raised an eyebrow and smiled. A bit surprised to see me?

Dorians heart was pounding in his chest with rapid speed. How much had Chaol seen? His hands were slightly
shaking, and

Dorian, are you feeling all right? You look awfully pale.

Dorian looked at Chaols face and his nerves relaxed. Chaol was smiling, unaware of the illegal activity that had been
going on in the stall.

I-- Dorian cleared his throat, settling himself back down, Im fine. You just startled me, thats all.

Chaol shook his head. I apologize. The Captain of the Guard took a look around the stall. Fleetfoot looks exhausted
has she been running again?

Like a hound of Deaenna, Dorian replied, looking at the dog.

Im glad youve found something to do with yourself other than moping about.

I have not been moping, Dorian said, and glared at Chaol. Since when had Chaol been so involved with what he did
and did not do?

You were acting very strangely last week, Dorian. I thought that you had changed for the worst.

What do you mean? Dorian asked quietly, feeling his temper beginning to rise. What right did Chaol have to
comment on his behavior?

I mean, the Captain of the Guard said, leaning on the stall door, that you were in a foul mood all the time. I heard
about what you did to Kaltain.

I didnt do anything to her. Just said a few things.

That resulted in hysterics and endless screaming and self-mutilation.

I didnt say anything that she didnt deserve to hear, he said too calmly.

Chaol gave him a weighing look and saw that his friend was beginning to rise to meet his infamous temper. The
Dorian I knew two months ago wouldnt have been so cruel, he said gently.
The Dorian you knew two months ago was a spoiled wretch who had nothing better to do with his time than to sleep
with repulsive women, he snapped.

And you have better things to do now? Chaols voice was surprisingly angry.

Dorian barred his teeth before he could stop himself.

You are the Crown Prince of Adarlan, Chaol said strongly, there are certain things which you can and cannot do,
and treating someone, even Kaltain Rompier, in such a manner is not acceptable!

Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? Dorian barked, and Fleetfoot opened her eyes. Im the Crown
Prince of AdarlanI can do whatever I please!

He and Chaol rarely ever argued, but Dorian couldnt stop himself. Chaols constant state of worry was really
beginning to irritate him--why couldnt anyone just leave him be for some time?

With great power comes great responsibility, Dorian, Chaol growled. You know that, I know that, everyone knows
that! Even Celaena knows that!

He wielded the assassins name like a weapon. And it worked. Dorian felt a stab of shame at his behavior that
knocked his temper to the ground. What would Celaena think of how he had been acting?

You should be ashamed of yourself, Dorian, Chaol snarled. You have all the power in the world, and yet you do
nothing with it except mope over a woman whos as far away as can be! Do something better with your time than
torturing the tormented and racing dogs! Prove to everyone that youre suitable to be king! Prove to your people that
youre suitable to be king! There was a fire and a passion in Chaols eyes that Dorian had rarely seen. He had never
spoken to the Crown Prince in that manner. Ever. He must have had this building up inside of him for weeks, if not
maybe years. Dorian was shocked at not only this, but at the truth behind it.

He had been doing nothing with himself these past few weeks. He didnt even know what his people thought of him
anymore. He didnt even know who the majority of them were.

Dorian hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. He had spent so much time focusing on himself lately, focusing
on his problems. They all suddenly seemed so insignificant. There were millions of people in his country that were
starving or enslaved or unemployed. And he was sitting in a dog kennel, playing with hay. Chaol was absolutely right.
He should be ashamed of himself.

He was.

He remembered the whipping lashes and scars that he had seen on Celaenas back long ago and wondered how many
thousands of innocent people were being abused in such a manner. How many were half-dead from overwork and
malnourishment for no reason at all? How many suffered daily while he lived in the palace, enjoying all the fine things
in life?

He wanted to do somethinghe wanted to reach out to his people, to make his life not seem like so much of a selfish
waste. Celaena was out there, risking her neck for his country, and he wasnt doing a damn thing except being an
inapproachable, sullen excuse for a person.

Youre right, he said to Chaol, and stood up, clicking his tongue to Fleetfoot. Ive got to find a better way to spend
my time.

Chaol opened the pen door for him and the dog, and they walked down the hall together. Chaol suddenly seemed very
tense, as if he still had something to say.

Chaol? Dorian asked, and wondered what else he was doing wrong.

The Captain of the Guard bit down on his lip, then took a steadying breath. I know that you wont want to hear this,
Dorian, but...

Chaol shook his head. But your father asked me to suggest to you that you begin...
Begin... Dorian encouraged him, his brows raised.

Begin looking for a bride.

Anger fueled into him again, and Dorian clenched his fists before anything could happen as a result of his emotions.

Look, Chaol said as gently as possible, knowing what a touchy subject this was, I know that you and Celaena have
some sort ofagreement. I mean, I saw you give her that ring, but I dont know if

We dont, Dorian said quickly, feeling like a hand was squeezing his heart. We dont have any agreement. It was
always implied, but never spoken.

Chaol raised an eyebrow.

But that doesnt mean Im going to look for a bride elsewhere.

Does she know that?

Dorian thought about it, and found with a grieving heart that she didnt. No, he said, she doesnt know how I feel. I
mean, she knows, but I never told her outright

He remembered what she had said to him one night, even when she was practically out of her mind with cold fury and
sorrow, and the words made a sense of dread appear in the pit of his stomach. You are the Crown Prince of Adarlan; I
am Adarlans assassin. In what world could we ever have existed?

She had never taken those words back, and despite everything that had happened after that, he now was fearful that
she still felt that way. He remembered their last moments together; how she had stopped him when he had been
about to confess his heart to her, and had thought then that she was doing something romantic, some unspoken claim
of love. But now

Had he deceived himself to believe that she might actually love him in return? Every action of hers suggested that she
didnt--her refusal to hear him tell her that he loved her, her lack of any confessions of her own

So you two arentengaged?

You know damn well that were not, Chaol. Why did he have to do this? Didnt he just say he should stop moping
about her?

Before she left, did you tell her how you feel?

Of course not.

Did she say anything to you?

I thought this subject was now off-limits.

Ill take that as a no.

Why? Did she say anything to you? He knew that she and Chaol spent a lot of time together, and perhaps she had
mentioned something to him about how she felt

Do you want my honest answer or the one that you want to hear?

Just shut up and tell me.

Chaol shook his head. She never said anything, but

But?
But I think that shes as scared about it as you are.

Dorian blinked, and his heart gave a jolt. What?

Shes a bit in denial about her feelings. She doesnt really want to let herself believe in the possibility that she
mighthave feelings for you. It scares her more than it scares you, I think.

Why should it?

Chaol gave him a weighing look. Think about who she isshes not exactly had a very loving life, has she?

I guess not, but whats that to do with anything?

Didnt she ever tell you anything about herself?

Sure, loads of things.

But nothing about her past?

Not that much, why?

Well, I think that a lot of the people shes loved in her life have died. Theres some sort of subconscious fear that
everyone she gets close to will die, I think. I mean, her parents were murdered, and it sounds as if she didnt have
very many friends growing up

Youve thought about this a lot, havent you? He felt slightly predatory, slightly on-edge about the way that Chaol
knew and understood Celaena, and the way that he now seemed very nervous.

I Chaol began, and then rolled his eyes. Dorian, its pretty obvious.

They reached the main part of the castle, and Dorian turned to look at Chaol. If she wasnt in denial, do you think
shedyou know, love me?

Chaol smiled and patted the Crown Prince on the shoulder. Dorian, I think she loves you despite anything she could
ever say or do. I think that she loves you despite herself, despite you, and despite this whole damned world. She
loves you more than she realizes, more than you realize, and were you to ask her the question that I know has been
running through your head, I think that her answer would be yes.

Chaols words then triggered him to feel a feeling that he hadnt felt in a long time: hope.

Perhaps she did love him, perhaps she was just as nervous about confessing to it as he was, and perhaps she would
do him the honor of being his wife...

But before anything else could be said or done, Roland DeHavilliard walked by and gave them both the oiliest smile
they had ever seen.

Chaol stopped in his tracks, and Dorian did the same. What exactly are you so happy about, Roland? the Captain of
the Guard questioned dangerously.

Roland halted and turned to face them. Oh, its nothing of interest to you, he said with a smile that made Dorian
cringe. Its just that Ive had good news from your fatherit appears that should we conquer Wendlyn, hed be
willing to let me rule over a small part of it. As viceroy or something along those lines.

In exchange for what? Dorian snapped, wanting to break his cousins nose once more. His father had never shown
any sort of interest in Rolands futurewhy now? Something felt wrong about this.

Roland smiled again, but a vicious light came into his eyes. Oh, Im sure youll find out soon, he said with a small
bow, and turned on his heel to leave. Before he could stop himself, Dorian started forward, but Chaol was faster. With
shock and satisfaction, he watched his friend grab Roland by the shoulder and whirl him around to face them again,
his grip so hard that the young man winced beneath it.

What are you scheming, Roland? Chaol growled, and Dorian wondered when Chaol had become so boldly violent.

Scheming? Roland shrugged off Chaols grip and tossed his blond hair. Im not doing anything of the sort. He
paused. Bargaining is more a term Id like to use.

Dorian stepped towards them and rose to his full height. He knew that having both the Captain of the Guard and the
Crown Prince of Adarlan pushing you around was enough to make ones knees quake, but to have two full-grown
males rising to the killing edge was a bit more than necessary.

Roland gulped, but then another sneer appeared on his face. If you want to know, ask your father, Dorian.

Id rather ask you, cousin, the Crown Prince replied with venomous sweetness. Unless youve become so snakelike
that a pleasant family conversation is out of reach? Dorians hand reached towards the pommel of his sword.

Roland took a step back, as if he were preparing to make a dash down the hall. I know what you two have been
doing behind your fathers back, Dorian, he suddenly hissed with open hate. I know all about your little games with
Celaena Sardothien. I know everything that youve been trying to hide, and because of that, your father is willing to
reward me handsomely.

Dorian couldnt believe it. His father was using Roland to spy on him? His very own flesh and blood didnt trust him
any more? How long had his father, how long had Roland

You slithering bastard, Chaol snarled, and moved forward once again, but Roland was already running, and cast a
look over his shoulder to make sure that the two young men werent chasing after him. He turned a corner and
disappeared from sight, his footsteps echoing after him.

Dorian stared blankly ahead, and felt a surprising ache in his chest. His very own father didnt trust him. His father
was working against him, trying to find his weaknesses, trying to get him back under his controlor completely
eliminated. And what of Celaena? What had Roland meant by his little games with her? What did he think they were
up to? What would happen to Celaena upon her return? What would

Dorian? Chaol asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dorian shook his head. I cant believe that my father has that wretch spying upon meupon us. I cant believe itI
simply cant. It hurt a great amount to think about ithe had never had much love for his father, but even this made
him feel upset and offended in a way that no beating ever had.

Neither can I, Chaol said softly, and they began walking again. I had no idea that things had gotten so bad this
quickly.

What do you mean? Did Chaol know something he didnt?

Chaol sighed, his green eyes filled with a deep worry that scarcely present. Since Sardothien arrived, your father has
had me keep an extra close watch on youI always assumed that it was to protect you, but now Im beginning to see
that perhaps he hoped that I would be like Roland. His voice dropped to a whisper. I guess that with my
relationship with Celaena, your father realized that I couldnt be an accurate source, and that all three of us should be
watched. In case you havent noticed, Dorian, sides are beginning to be drawn in this castle.

He hadnt noticed. He hadnt noticed a damn thing because he had been so busy worrying about

About myself. You really are a fool, Dorian.

Im afraid I havent noticed at all, Chaol. IIve been a bit out of that world as of late.

I know, Chaol said, keeping his voice low. So Ill fill you in as soon as we reach the safety of your rooms, though
Im not quite sure if even well be safe from prying ears there.
My servants wouldnt talk to my father, Dorian said defensively. His servants had always kept their mouths shut
about his comings and goings.

Dorian, he has your own family working against you, Chaol hissed.

Youre overreacting, Dorian said. He couldnt believe that he was a threat in his own home. Anger and mistrust ran
through his veins. His own father

Better safe than sorry, Chaol said, and didnt say a word until they reached the Crown Princes chambers, and he
had made sure that there were no servants around who could eavesdrop. They seated themselves at Dorians desk,
with a single candle for light.

Now, Chaol said with intensity that startled Dorian, for the past month, the Minister of Trasien has been awfully
present at meetingsand Im not talking about tax and social meetingsIm talking about war councils involving
Wendlyn, but most importantly, controlling the already conquered countries. Your father has been keeping a close
watch on himmainly through Perringtonns sourcesand began to keep an even closer watch when the man
defended Celaena Sardothien in open court. I suspect that your father thinks that Trasien is beginning to slip from his
gripthat some sort of revolution is being planned, that the people of Trasien have finally realized that your father
took the throne by ill means.

Dorian instinctively opened his mouth to defend his father, but found that no words could be found. His father had
destroyed the royal family of Trasien to gain its throne, and had always feared that its royal court and people, always
fiercely loyal to their leaders, would one day revolt.

He couldnt believe his ears. He couldnt believe that Chaol, the god of following the rules and loyalty, was actually
talking against his king like this.

There are some people, Chaol continued, who have begun to think that your fathers crusade in Wendlyn is a waste
of time and money and lives. No one has voiced it yet, no one dares to, but theres a general feeling, mainly from
Trasien and Eyputiusunn, that this war should be stopped.

So why hasnt my father had them all killed yet? Dorian asked, his heart beginning to beat like a wild drum. He had
never thought about revolution, about the prospect that other countries were that unhappy with his father.

Because hes got no proof.

Thats never stopped him before, Dorian replied.

Its different now. ItIts not as easy as killing someone off this time. If one minister dies, the others will use it as an
opportunity to react against your father. If they all die, then the people and the other countries will know that
something is terribly wrong. If your father kills them off, it shows that hes scared of them, that he knows that his
power isnt obsolete. He doesnt know who to trust anymore, Dorian, and thats why hes resorting to the likes of
Roland. He feels that his power is slipping, and hell do anything to keep it from fading.

Dorian couldnt believe what he was hearing. He had never noticed, he had never suspected How did Chaol know all
of this?

You said that there were sides being drawn, Dorian questioned.

Ah, yes, Chaol said, frowning. One side, of course, is your father and Perringtonn. The other, it seems, to be
gathering around you.

What?

He couldnt believe his ears. He couldnt believe thatthat he was on a side opposite his father without knowing it.
Did his magick have something to do with this? Did Celaena have anything to do with this?

I know its alarming, but you have to have noticed the number of politicians seeking your counsel and companionship
recently. The Minister of Trasien especially. Wait, Im getting ahead of myself. Let me get back to the basics.
You know that Celaena is from Trasien, correct? Somehow, for some reason, the Minister of Trasien was interested in
her. Very interested in her. It seems that in the council to decide Celaenas fate, the minister defended her case
against the king--but in the process of doing so, linked her name to yours. Because of your connection to Celaena,
and because of her connection to the minister, who seems to be the leading force in all of this, you two are being
placed at the center of things.

Dorian shook his head, and found that his hands were trembling. This was a reality, this wasnt some chapter of
historythis was history in the making, this was his fate, the fate of his nation And he was being manipulated and
used like some

He felt nauseated, disgusted, and terrified. He didnt want to hear any more of this.

Chaol grasped his edge of the table and leaned forward. But thats not all of it. Dorian, theres something that Tiryn
Doval, the minister of Trasien, knows about Celaena. Something that he hasnt told anyone. Something, I suspect,
about her pastnot just about her as an assassin, but as her life before that. He went to visit her when she was
recovering from the duelshe went and spoke to her, and after that he increased his efforts to be a part of the war
councils about Wendlyn.

The world felt as if it were spinning. Why hadnt Chaol told him this until now?

He was willing to defend Celaena as a person in that councilnot as an assassin. He had some sort of insight about
her past, and I think thatthat perhaps, Dorian, she might be more of a threat to your father and our country than
previously imagined.

His throat was so tight with suppressed sickness that he couldnt breathe. The Minister of Trasien knew something
about Celaena; he was on a side he didnt even know he belonged on; and his own father was plotting against him.
Everything he had known was fading away into deceit and confusion. Dorian couldnt believe it. It just wasnt possible.

Why me? he gasped aloud, and raised his eyes to Chaols face, and was taken aback by the determination and fire
he saw there. Chaol was absolutely serious and worried about this. Chaol had taken sides alreadyand he knew with
whom his friends loyalties lay.

After all, the young man had given up his title for their friendshipwhy should it stop now?

Because aside from your relationship with Celaena, youve always been against your father, havent you? Chaol said
so softly that he could barely hear him. But that was enough.

The truth of the words was staggering. His mind reeled. Fear and grief and anger surged through Dorian with such
force that he couldnt stop the magick from rising to the surface. He couldnt even think about it.

It burst into the room with blinding speed, knocking open the windows, throwing papers about, and sending them
both flying from their chairs. It was a tempest that lasted for only a second, but did the damage of a days worth of
destruction. He could hear glass and metal breaking, but the stone walls held fast. It was so powerful and horrifying
that it made Dorians feelings towards the matter that they were discussing subside. An awful cold settled in his
stomach, a cold that replaced every feeling he had inside of hima cold that froze his will and his heart. His father
was against him. His father had chosen to openly go against his own son, his own heir.

That bastard.

Then the wind stopped howling, and Dorian looked up from where he had been covering his head on the ground. The
entire room was coated in ice.

He heard a moan, and saw Chaol raise his head from a few feet away. Dorian didnt need a mirror to know that the ice
in the room reflected the growing cold in his bodyespecially his frozen sapphire eyes.

Chaol looked around and his mouth dropped open with disbelief and terror. He slowly turned his head to Dorian, as if
he knew that the Crown Prince had been the source of the bizarre occurrence, and said with wide eyes that shook
Dorian to the core, What have you done?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Celaena Sardothien made her way back through the woods, slightly puzzled, but amused by her second encounter
with the young man who called himself Galan. He had a boyish innocence about him that made him immediately
likable, and his ability to keep up with her made him enjoyable company. She might have stayed to talk to him if the
thought that he might be too much like Dorian hadnt entered her mind. He was completely different in some aspects
mainly pertaining to that boyish charmbut in physical appearance, the similarities were too striking to go
unnoticed. It was almost painful to look at him, and as he spoke to her, the words and events from the past few
months rose to repeat themselves.

Especially the memory of the Yulemas ball.

She hadnt realized it until recently, but Dorian had kissed her then. It was the only time that he had ever done so,
though from the aching in her heart, it felt as if they had been doing it all along. She didnt know how it was possible
to miss and care for someone so much when you hadnt even been physically intimate. In fact, she didnt know a lot
of things about romantic relationships. Only once in her life prior to going to the mines had she been involved in a
serious one, and even then she hadnt really loved the person.

But she didnt love Dorian either.

She swore she didnt.

What would she say to Dorian when he proposed to her, as Chaol thought he would? Most of the women her age were
already married, but she felt that there was so much more to do in life before settling down. Though becoming the
wife of the prince of the most powerful country in the world could hardly be considered settling down. And one day, if
she did marry Dorian, shed be queen of that country.

Queen Celaena Sardothno, DeHavilliard of Adarlan.

It sounds awful. I couldnt be Queen of Adarlan! Not in a thousand years! Not afterwell, not after what they did to
Trasien and the other countries! I wouldnt want to become an icon of what they diditd be completely contradictory!
Id never forgive myselfmy family would never forgive me. Wendlyn would never forgive me.

Maybe another name change

No! You shouldnt even be considering this! Marrying Dorian DeHavilliard is not an option! You dont know him well
enough! I mean, we were only together for a few months, and we werent even lovers! Just friends!

With a bit of sexual tension.

But thats besides the pointif he asksif he asks to marry me, Ill just simply say no.

But Id be breaking his heart, wouldnt I? Chaol says Dorian loves meobviously, if he wants to marry mebutBut if
he were only someone less important or iconic as the Crown Prince of Adarlan! If he were someone with Chaols
position or some minister or even a damn peasant, I might consider saying yes, but I cantI wontmarry the
Crown Prince of Adarlan! And itd be wrong to ask him to throw everything away just for

Stop it! STOP thinking about this! Youre not going to say yes, and youre not in love with him, and youre being as
ridiculous as a young schoolgirl! You should be ashamed of yourself! Adarlan is still the enemyand youre willing to
forget that just because of a pretty face!

But hes more than that, isnt he?

NO. No, he is not more than that! Hes the son of the man who murdered your parents and took over your country!
He was alive when his father began to plot to overtake your country, and he did nothing

He was sevenyoure just resorting to last measures here!

Celaenas nails dug into her palms. She was having a debate about Dorian DeHavilliardin her head. With herself. She
was going insane.
Celaena shook her head vigorously in an attempt to stop herself from thinking about it any further, and continued to
walk back to the chateau, running over anything from math tables to book plots in order to keep her mind from
arguing with her heart.

When she finally reached the estate, there was an eerie stillness and silence in the air that only increased in intensity
when she got near the house. It was as if the entire worldplants, animals, faeries, and humans alikewere sitting in
dread anticipation and fear. It was a dead stillness that scared her.

She hadnt felt anything like it since the nightno, since the morning that her parents had been found dead in their
beds, their throats cut open during the night. But the air in her house that night had felt the same, as if everything
were holding its breathlike the tense feeling before a storm. The air had tried to choke her as she had walked to her
parents chambers, but her fear of the tempest that raged outside had pushed her into their bedroom and into their
bed without further thought. They had been unresponsive when she had climbed into bed between them, and the bed
had been slightly damp with what she thought was rainwater, but she had just assumed that they were both sleeping
soundly. It wasnt until she awoke the next morning to the screams of a servant to find herself sleeping between two
corpses that she realized the air hadnt been one of anticipation, but of death.

The air was the same now.

Fear suddenly gave wings to her feet, and Celaena ran the last few feet into the house, leaping over the half-door
before stopping short as she saw the small group gathered around the wooden table. Luca, Leighanna, and
Stephaenya all looked towards her with sorrowful eyes then dropped them down to the table in shame, silent.

Chills ran down her arms. What is it? she asked gravely, looking from one face to the next.

Luca raised his head from where he had hidden it in his hands and then turned towards the open kitchen door.

Celaena followed his gaze, and was about to ask another question when she heard a noise that was all-too familiar for
her.

The crack of a whip.

There was a scream followed by that whip, a scream so filled with pain and terror that it felt as if Celaena herself were
the one screaming, and she unconsciously raised a hand to her back to make sure that she were not the one of the
receiving end of the blows. But then who

Another snap and another scream.

Cindrillion.

She was running out of the kitchen and through the halls of the chateau before she could even think more of it,
following the sound of the brutal whipping that was going on. She raced up the stairs, taking them three at a time,
and flew down the hall with the ferocity and nimbleness of a mountain cat, darting up another flight of stairs to find
herself in the Baronesss suite of rooms, the beat of the whip increasing in intensity. She stared for a moment at the
large doors, long enough to hear two more cracks of the whip and two more pain-filled screams, and then opened
them to find the Baroness turning away, whip in hands.

She looked over her shoulder at Celaena and said with a coldness that redefined the word, Take her out of here. I
dont want her bleeding on the carpetIve just had it imported from Eyputiusunn.

Her heart was beating so fast with anger that she thought it would explode. Celaena barred her teeth and had her
mind made up to pounce upon the woman and rip her to shreds, but then she heard a moan from a dark corner of the
room, and she froze.

She saw Cindrillion then, her dress ripped open down to the waist, her thin, frail arms clasped around her knees,
rocking back and forth and mumbling things to herself. Celaena immediately rushed over to the young woman,
dropping down on the ground beside her, and ran an eye over her. She had a nasty-looking bruise on her cheek, and
her face was a ghastly shade of white. Her blue eyes were out of focus and from the expression on her face Celaena
could tell that the girls mind had gone somewhere far off.
Celaena realized with a sudden jolt that this is what she had looked like to Dorian DeHavilliard that night when Roland
had tried to

Cindrillion, she whispered as gently as she could, and touched the girls bare shoulder. No response. She tried again,
but once again the young woman failed to respond.

I said move her, the Baroness barked from across the room. Celaena felt like gutting her. What could Cindrillion
have possibly done to deserve this? Rage began to take hold of the assassin, and she found herself standing once
again, poised to tear the woman apart. She could do it. She had done it before. She was riding the killing-edge, and a
sense of reckless anger and hate fueled her on.

Cindrillion then said something that knocked her so off-balance that not even the King of Adarlan could have brought
her back to the killing-edge in that moment.

Father, mamaIm so sorryIIve tried to be good, Ive tried to do what you saidBut IbutPlease forgive me

She had heard that before. She had heard those words spoken, and she had felt the feeling behind them. Cindrillion
was lost in a state of mind that was like that of hers when she was eight years old, terrified and ashamed and
miserable. Cindrillion couldnt tell what was real and what wasnt, and all of her self-doubts and mistakes were coming
back to haunt her with a vengeance.

Well? the Baroness snapped, and Celaena immediately bent down to raise Cindrillion to her feet, taking special care
to lift her in a way that didnt disturb the lash-marks on her back. Celaena hadnt seen the cuts yet, and she knew
that it would be better to examine them when she was far away from the Baronessjust in case.

Cindrillion hung forward like a limp doll, muttering and sobbing quietly to herself, and Celaena found it very hard to
support the girl without touching the bleeding cuts. It took them a while, but eventually she managed to get them up
the tower stairs and into their small bedroom, where she laid Cindrillion down on her bed face-first so that she could
have a good look at the damage the Baroness had inflicted.

The assassin let out a sharp hiss through her teeth. There were at least thirty lashes on the small back, but it was
hard to tell because of the many over-laps. Several of them bleed freely, causing small rivers of blood to trickle down
her sides and pool in a dark lake at the small of her back. What alarmed her the most, however, were the fine white
scars that bordered the fresh cuts, a sign that this kind of punishment had gone on for a long while before today.

Cindrillion clenched the blanket beneath her in her hands, and groaned with pain as Celaena tentatively touched her
back to make sure that the cuts werent too deep. After years of repairing her own back and the backs of others, she
knew that she could easily deal with this, but shed need a few things first.

Cindrillion, Celaena said softly, but firmly, Im going to run down to the kitchen for a moment to get you some
things that will ease the pain. Dont move from this spotyoull just make it worse. Ill be back as soon as I can, I
swear. She stroked the young womans ivory cheek with a finger in reassurance, and Cindrillion mumbled something
about a magick tree and birds.

Celaena left the room, dashing down the stairs to the kitchen so swiftly that she almost fell down them, and burst into
the kitchen to find the small group still seated. How long had they let this go on? Why had they done nothing? Wasnt
this country supposed to not be like Adarlan? Her rage and hate returned with full-force as she looked at them. And
they noticed.

How long? she asked, her voice shaking with suppressed violence. How long have you let this go on?

None of them answered.

Damn you, tell me how long shes been treated like this! she bellowed at them, finding that she was as scared as
she was angry for Cindrillions current state.

Ever since her father died, Leighanna said, covering her old face with her hands. Ten years ago.

Ten years? Ten years? she repeated, finding it hard to breathe. She had spent two years in the mines, being
whipped like that every day, and it had almost driven her mad. But ten years? No wonder the young woman was so
bizarre. You let this go on for ten years without doing something about it? Youve let that bitch upstairs do this for
ten years without being checked? You

What can we do about it? Luca exploded, standing up from his seat and approaching her. Wed lose our jobs, wed
be thrown out on the streets!

Celaena wanted to hit him across the face. This was supposed to be a perfect worldcorruption shouldnt have spread
this far so quickly. What had happened? What was wrong with the world so that this could happen?

Youd put money and comfort before compassion and mercy? She asked with such deadly force that Luca took a
step back. Youd let that woman beat and destroy that girl for no reason other than to protect your money? Her
voice rose again, and she whirled to face the two seated women. Youre all just as monstrous as your Baroness.

They said nothing, and she looked at Luca again. His eyes were moist and his body was trembling. She felt a pang of
regret for saying such harsh words, but the memory of the minesand the memory of Cindrillions half-crazed
mutterings were too near. She knew what it was like to have no money, to have to submit to anothers will in order to
live, and she knew that had they not been so desperate to stay alive, they might have done something.

It doesnt happen that often, Leighanna said shakily, only once a month or so.

It shouldnt happen AT ALL! Celaena retorted, yelling so loudly that they all jumped. Youyouyou all dont know
what its like in Adarlan! What its been likewhat it was like! But youve been acting just like them! You, who take so
much pride in your country and traditions! How do you think Adarlan got so powerful? By the people of other countries
allowing things to go on for the sake of their own lives! And look at whats happened! Mass enslavement, mass
starvation, mass misery! You think that youre so above all of that here in Wendlyn, that such things will never
happen to you! But they will! Look at you! Look at you three, living here and allowing Cindrillion, the sweetest and
most innocent girl Ive ever known, to be beaten and whipped and maltreated by those monsters! You are Adarlan!
she screamed at them. There were tears in her eyes now, tears of rage and regret and shame, and they spilled upon
her cheeks before she could stop them. She briskly wiped them away with the back of her hand, and found that the
others in the room were looking at her in stunned silence. A tear rolled down Leighannas weathered cheek and
splattered upon the table.

Her message delivered, Celaena hastily turned from them and went about preparing what shed need for Cindrillion
hot water, towels, strips of bandages, a few herbs to ease the pain

What are you doing? Luca asked, reseating himself at the table.

Celaena snarled over her shoulder and strode out of the room, things piled in her hands. To do what you three refuse
to. Fix Cindrillion. For once and for all. Her will set, Celaena left the kitchen, rushing up the stairs once more.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena bit down on her lip as Cindrillion gasped with pain, trying to clean out the girls wounds as gently as possible.
With each touch of the sodden towel, Cindrillions breath came more quickly, and her rantings intensified. There was a
crazed look in her eyes that alarmed Celaena, but the assassin kept focused on her task of cleaning the girl up
physically before any kind of mental repair could be done.

told me not to play near the fire, but I couldnt stop it when Cindrillion was muttering.

Shh, Celaena soothed, and cleared away the last of the blood. She began the tedious and careful process of
wrapping the wounds, and eventually had to pull Cindrillion up into a sitting position so that she could wrap the
bandages around her body without pausing to reach beneath. She was shocked by how thin the girl washer shoulder
blades stuck out sharply from her body, and her ribcage was clearly visible beneath her small breasts. If they hadnt
been in such a serious moment, Celaena would have felt a stab of jealousy. Her body was nowhere near being that
thinbut then again, she realized that she probably wouldnt like to be able to see her bones that clearly.

And besides, Dorian likes me just the way I am.

You did not just think that! Ugh, youre pathetic!

Celaena finished binding Cindrillion and then sat down on the bed in front of the young woman and stared at her face.
Cindrillion, she said strongly, putting a hand on the young womans knee for physical reassurance.

And the mice just started to move and I swear I didnt kill them, but stepmother said that if I

Cindrillion.

There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but then Cindrillion shook her head and let out a sudden sob. Celaena
reached forward to touch her shoulder, but with sudden violence and terror, Cindrillion knocked her hand away. She
then shut her eyes and covered her ears with her hands, beginning to rock back and forth again. wont listen to
her, shes not the boss of me, shes not my mother, she doesnt belong here!

Cindrillion, its safe nowyourstepmother is gone.

Never gone, refuses to leave, not her home, but wont go.

Celaenas heart began to beat faster. She didnt know what Dorian had done to get her to come out of this kind of
trance, and she fervently wished that she hadnt been too embarrassed to ask.

Cindrillion, youve got to stop this, she tried, not daring to touch the young woman again.

Cindrillion rocked harder. Always rules, always demands, always work, work, work.

Cindrillion, please, Celaena said, unsure of what to do, what to say, or how to deal with this. She was in over her
head. Perhaps she should just leave her alone

But what would have happened to her if Dorian had left her alone? If Dorian hadnt stayed with her and coaxed her
out of that place

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Anuksun wouldnt have left her alone either.

Cindrillion, please come back, she said firmly. You, Celaena looked around the room for some sort of anchor, your
micetheythey need you to feed them. If you dont feed them, theyll starve!

They dont need food, theyre dead, Cindrillion said flatly, but then let out a high-pitched scream that caused
Celaena to scramble backwards off of the bed in fright. She had gone insanestark raving mad! Celaena had never
felt so helpless.

Dead, dead, DEAD! Cindrillion screamed, and covered her face in terror. I hate them! Theyre dead! THEY LEFT
ME!

Cindrillion, Celaena pleaded, but stayed away from her.

They left me alone! They left me alone!

Stop it! Celaena found herself yelling, her nerves shaking so badly that she wished she had some brandy to calm
herself. Hooves pounding, two bodies dead, a finger pointing towards an open door

They left me alone!

Stopit! Memories were flashing at Celaena with such force and speed that her knees were trembling.

This is your home now. You can never go back.

Run awayrun far away and never return

You dont want to be that selfish, do you?

With your past, you could

They

STOP IT! Celaena screamedfor herself, for Cindrillion, for anyoneand before she could halt herself, she slapped
the young woman across the face.

Cindrillion stopped.

She blinked twice, as if registering what had happened, and then looked at Celaena with open-mouthed dismay.
You

Celaena waited for the hurtful accusation to come. She couldnt believe that she had hit the girlphysical violence was
the last thing she needed right nowand her red hand was proof of the terrible act she had just committed.

You Cindrillion tried again, looking around at the blood-filled bowl and shreds of bandages.

Celaena swallowed hard.

You brought me out, Cindrillion finally said, and touched her face.

Celaenas knees gave way, and she sunk onto the bed. What?

Youyou took me out of that place. I didnt know where I was, and then I heard you, I felt you

Im

You saved me.

Celaena couldnt believe her ears. I did what?

Cindrillion cocked her head to the side. Jaq looks hungry, dont you think?

What? Celaena followed Cindrillions gaze and found her staring at the dead mice carcasses that were still clothed
and broken in their cages.

I havent fed them all dayI suppose thats rather selfish of me, isnt it?

Is she still in a fit or has she returned to normal? Its so hard to tell

I, uh, fed them, Celaena tried, hoping to ease the girls burdens.

Cindrillions eyes brightened and she smiled. Oh! How darling of you! They thanked you properly, I hope?

Celaena forced a smile. Of coursea very elaborate thank-you. Complete with song and dance.

Cindrillion laughed, but then stopped and winced. That hurts a bit, she said, and then realized that her dress was
still not on properly. Did anyone else see me like this? she asked, horrified at the prospect of being seen indecent.

Of course not, Celaena replied, puzzled and slightly numb. Her nerves were still shaking, and the rush of memories
that she had experienced was continuing to make her mind reel. But at least Cindrillion had stopped screaming.

Cindrillion sighed with relief and pulled her dress on, standing up from the bed. There was something seriously wrong
with this girl

Would you like to go for a walk? You look a bit pale, Cindrillion said with a small smile. Ill show you my favorite
spot in the woods if you like, she added.
Celaena smiled weakly and stood up on weak knees. Id love to see it, she replied, and allowed the girl to lead the
way.

They were silent for the majority of the journey, and it was Cindrillion who did the majority of the talking. Celaena still
felt slightly scared and sick from the intense encounter with Cindrillions mad(der) side, but she kept those fears
hidden with her silence.

Were almost there now, Cindrillion said; and Celaena hoped that there was some truth in her words, since they had
been walking for almost an hour through hard forest and bush.

In the distance, Celaena caught a faint turquoise-blue sparkle between the trees and raised an eyebrow. A lake?

Not just any lakemy lake.

Celaena nodded, taking this for a sufficient answer, and kept her mouth shut until they arrived, watching with growing
anticipation as the trees thinned and sand began to replace fallen leaves.

It was breathtaking. For as far as the eye could see, brilliant blue water spread forth, the only pieces of land visible
that bordered it were the dips and curves in the coastline to their left and right. It was as if the lake had no end. To
her left, on the farthest peak of land that she could see, appeared to be giant cliffshundreds of feet high, plunging
down into the water. To her right, there was only sandmiles and miles of sand and dunes that made her feel like
they were at the ocean.

This is amazing, Celaena said, and took off her shoes so that she could feel the sand beneath her feet. It was the
whitest sand shed ever seen, and it was so soft that it felt as if she were walking on velvet. Does anyone else know
about this?

Only the forest folk, Cindrillion replied, throwing her shoes back towards the woods. My father used to bring me
here all the time before he diedit was our special place.

A sadness filled her eyes, and Celaena, afraid of another hysterical fit, motioned for them to walk.

How did he die? she asked gently.

Cindrillion shook her head and untied her long blond hair from its ribbon. I dont know, she replied. He was about
to go on another trip when he suddenly fell off his horse and just died It was as if his heart just stopped beating.

Im sorry, Celaena said, and gave her a sympathetic smile. She knew that she should have changed the subject, but
sometimes relief and peace only came from talking about the pain.

Its all right. I just miss him a lot sometimes, the girl said, smiling to herself. I never knew my mothershe died
giving birth to me. My father used to tell me that I looked just like her, but I was only a child at the time, so I guess
my physical appearance has changed.

Celaena shook her head. Im sure that you look just like her.

Really?

She nodded, and walked through the foam that the lakes unnaturally large waves had pushed upon the shore.

What are your parents like? Cindrillion asked, and Celaena frowned.

Theyre dead, she said dully.

Oh, thats terrible! Howd they die? Her voice was a bit too cheery for such a question.

Celaena looked out at the endless body of water. They were murdered in their sleep.

Cindrillions eyes grew wide. Ohohoh, thats awful! How old were you?
Eight.

We were the same age when our parents died!

What a lovely coincidence, Celaena said dryly.

What were your parents like?

Celaena kicked at the wave that broke upon the shore, spraying water ten feet in front of them. I dont remember,
she lied. She didnt want to talk about this.

You have to remember something!

Celaena ran a hand through her hair. Nothing, she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

Cindrillion sighed beside her. You know, sometimes its easier to get over the pain if you talk about it.

Celaena blinked and then looked at the girl with raised eyebrows. Just who was helping whom here?

I honestly dont remember, she lied again.

You were eight, thats not too young!

That was fifteen years ago.

Cindrillion looked down at her hands, her fingers moving, and then at Celaena. Youre really twenty-three?

Celaena nodded. In a few months.

You dont look that old!

Twenty-three isnt that old, Celaena said defensively.

Of course it isnt, Cindrillion grinned, but I know some pretty old-looking twenty-three year-olds!

Like whom?

Cindrillion bit down upon her lower lip and then shrugged. I cant recall any, but Im sure that Ive met some!

Were not exactly another species, you know, Celaena said with raised eyebrows.

I thought that when Id turned twenty-three, Id be married and have children! And wrinkles!

Celaenas eyes went wide and she didnt know whether to laugh or scream. She didnt have any wrinkles, her skin
wasnt losing its elastic, and she did not look past her prime! Twenty-three isnt that old, Celaena repeated. Youll
be there before you can blink.

Well, hopefully Ill look as good as you! I mean, I thought you were my age!

Which is?

Eighteen and a half.

Thats pretty young.

Cindrillion shook her head. Thats pretty old! I feel like so much of my life has passed away before my eyes! And I
havent even done anything yet!
Celaena clicked her tongue. Like what? Eighteen is a small fraction of your life, you know. Youve got plenty of time
ahead of you.

Cindrillion put her hands on her hips. I want to fall in love, first of all.

Celaena smiled. Thats your biggest ambition?

Isnt it yours?

Celaena shook her head. No.

Well, its mine. I want to meet a prince and fall in love and have him take me away from everything.

What a girlish, ridiculous dream! Howchildish! Dont you think thats limiting yourself a bit too much?

Cindrillion shook her head. No! Im going to meet him and were going to fall in love and get married and have two
childrena boy and a girland well live

Happily ever after? Celaena finished for her. She knew that she shouldnt be trampling on the dreams of such a
fragile young mind, but it was honestly pathetic that all this girl wanted out of life was marriage!

You say that like a non-believer, Cindrillion frowned, and began stroking something in her pocket (a dead mouse,
probably). Havent you ever been in love?

Celaena thought for a moment before answering, staring out at the water once more. Once, she said. When I was
eighteenjust your age.

Cindrillions eyes widened. With the Crown Prince of Adarlan?

No! Celaena said hastilytoo hastily. No, she repeated, slower, it wasnt the Crown Prince.

Then who?

Celaena sighed and thought bitter-sweetly back to the year that she had spent in the relationship.

His name was Symeth, she said quietly.

Symeth? What was he like?

She smiled to herself, and kicked more water out of her path. He waswell, he was Symeth. Tall, blond, strong,
fierceI dont know, he was justSymeth.

Tell me about how you fell in love! Cindrillion asked eagerly.

Well, he was more the one who did the falling in love. Cindrillion raised an eyebrow. You see, Celaena continued,
we grew up together. We met after my parents died, and spent yearsworking together. We were always rivals
always competing to see who was the betterworker. Of course, I always beat him, but he would never stop
challenging me. As we got older and work took us to different places, we saw less and less of each other. When I was
eighteen, we both wound up working in Renaril, the capital city of Adarlan, and I guess fate kept on bringing us
together. We were still rivals, and I thought that wed always be that way An ancient heartache began to build in
her chest, but she pushed it away. Until one day, when I was outworking, and, well, I got into a bit of a mess. I
thought I was going to die, that this was the end, but then Symeth just appeared and he saved my life. Afterwards, I
asked him why he did it, why he didnt let me, his long-time rival, finally get out of the way so that he could have a
shot at being the best in the business, and he just shrugged and told me that life wouldnt be that much fun without
me around.

I guess that after that, he began to realize that I meant something to him, more than he had thought before. I was
grateful to him for saving my life, but I never saw him with any romantic views until one night when he approached
me about it.
Cindrillion grabbed Celaenas arm. Tell me! Tell me what he said!

Celaena smiled bitterly. He told me that he had tried in vain for weeks to stop thinking about meabout how he had
felt before saving meand that it wouldnt do to keep on beating around the bush. He was always a very
straightforward kind of young man, and never really was afraid of anything. But he told me thatthat he had never
been more scared in his life when he thought that I was going to die. And, I dont knowI cant remember the rest.

Youve got to tell me! Did he tell you that he loved you? Cindrillion was practically bounding down the beach.

Celaena narrowed her brows, trying to recall that night. Hehe then said to me something along the lines that he
never wanted me to be out of his sight again, and I asked him what the hell he meant by that, and then he said that
it meant that he loved me, and always had.

Cindrillion sighed dramatically, but Celaena found there to be little to smile or be dramatic about.

What happened after that? Cindrillion asked.

I slapped him across the face an told him to get a hold of himself.

Cindrillions eyes bulged. You didnt!

Celaena nodded her head firmly. I did.

Butbut then howd it all work out?

Well, instead of getting a hold of himself, he got a hold of me, andI dont know, he kissed me, I guess.

Oh, how romantic!

Not really.

Did you realize that you loved him after that?

No.

Then what happened? Didnt that kiss mean anything?

No, nothing at all.

But thats not how its supposed to be!

Well, thats how it was.

What happened after that?

I hit him again and left the room.

Youre terrible!

Well, you wanted to hear the story.

Well, you said that you were in love!

I was wronghe was the one in love with me.

Cindrillion groaned. Tell me how it worked out after that!

Celaena pursed her lips together. I dont knowthe next day he approached me about it and said that I could beat
him into a pulp and cut him into a thousand pieces and hed still love me.

And?

I said if that was the case, Id better go get a knife.

Youre so unromantic!

It was Symeth! I mean, Id grown up with him! He was like a brother!

But he loved you!

Well, after that, he got so angry that he called me a number of terrible things, and when I laughed in his face about
it, he grabbed me and threw me into the nearest fountain.

What? Adarlan is such a bizarre place!

I didnt see him for a few days after thatI guess he was moping aroundand then one night when I returned home
from work, I found him in my room, sitting on the couch, looking as if he hadnt slept for the entire time I hadnt seen
him.

You didnt throw him out, did you?

No, I just told him not to stain my couch with his tears.

Cindrillion gasped and looked very angry. How could you treat a person like that?

Celaena laughed. Well, he actually did begin to cry after that. And I guess I felt so bad that I told him I didnt mean it
about the couch, and then he made some very touching speech about his love for me.

Tell me it!

I cant remember it exactly.

Try!

Well, Celaena thought back as hard as she could, and closed her eyes so that the thoughts could come clearer. He
said thatthat he tried to make himself fall out of love with methat he didnt want to love me, but he did. He loved
me despite what a bitch I was, and how I never had time for anyone but myself and ArobAro, who was like a father-
figure to us.

And?

And I said to him, Is that all you have to say?

And?

And, let me finish! And he told me that if I really didnt love him, then hed go awayforever. And would never see or
bother me again. Then he asked me if I could really throw him away like that, and

And you said yes?

And I actually said no.

Cindrillion looked taken aback. Youyou actually said something nice to him?

Celaena laughed. You look as surprised as he did when I said that.

What happened after that?

Well, I felt so bad for himseeing him all disheveled and moroseand I knew that he had to seriously love me if he
had gone to all this trouble, so I thought that maybe I could love him toowith time. I mean, I cared for him, but I
didnt love him.

So whatd you do?

I smiled at him, and I guess that was enough.

Enough for what?

Celaena winked at her. Enough to keep us busy for the entire night.

Cindrillions brows contracted, and then expanded when she realized what Celaena had meant. Youslept together
without being married?

Celaena shook her head at Cindrillions girlish notions. Of course.

Cindrillion looked a bit uncomfortable. Did you get married after that?

Of course not.

Then what happened?

Well, I guess that I was right in my assumption. The more time we spent together romantically, the more I grew to
care for him. In fact, I told him things about myselfabout my past that only Aro had known. And after that, I guess
he began to take things very seriously. He might have proposed to me if

If? Cindrillion was clasping her hand so hard that it hurt.

If he hadnt died. The ache of her early youth came back with full-force, and Celaena kicked at the water rather
violently. She shouldnt have brought this up.

Died?

He was murdered.

Murdered? Oh, Im so sorry! You poor thing! You must have been distraught!

Celaena looked at the sand. She had been distraught. She had been practically inconsolable for a week. The only
person she had allowed to see her was Arobynn, who had acted abnormally nice.

Whatd you do after that? Cindrillion asked softly, making her grip on the assassins hand much more gentle.

I looked and looked for his killerto avenge him, but I never found who did it. I Her voice faded off into memory,
and she remembered the futile hunt she had gone on, searching every nook and rat hole of Renaril for Symeths
murderer, but there had been no one to find. Arobynn had been very sympathetic, and had given her full-use of his
spies and sources, but every one of them had returned without any information. She was the best assassin in the
world, she should have been able to find the bastard, but she didntshe couldnt. She had at first thought that this
was because of some foul ploteither by Adarlan orShe shook her head, unable to think the name of the other she
had suspected. It was selfish of her to accuse Arobynn Hamel of murdering Symethespecially after he had raised
them both and given them food and shelter and their first jobs. Why would he have ever killed Symeth?

Because you had stopped assassinating. Because you were ready to settle down. Because you wanted to settle down.
And Arobynn knew it.

Dark anger began to boil in her stomach.

No. Arobynn would never have done thatnot to Symeth, not to me.

Elentulyai?

Celaena looked at Cindrillion and smiled ruefully. Sorryold memories can have a bit of a strong hold on you.

Cindrillion nodded sagely and then asked, So, was it hard, losing your first love?

Celaena was silent for a moment. He wasnt my first love, she said softly. I never loved him.

But I thought you said that you began to

I cared for him, but I never loved him. I never felt that fire, that consuming aching for him. I always was able to put
myself before him, and I neverI just never loved him.

But you talk as if you know what love feels like! You have to have loved him! Cindrillion looked thoroughly
disappointed, but then her eyes brightened. Unless there was someone else after that?

Celaena tried to stop the image of Dorian DeHavilliard from coming to mind, but it did. INo! No, there wasnt
anyone after that! she exclaimed.

Cindrillion pouted. Not even the Crown Pri

NO!

Celaena hadnt meant to yell, but she did. She hadnt thought of Symeth in a while, and the combined confusion over
his death and her confusion towards Dorian DeHavilliard were beginning to manifest themselves in anger and hatred.

Cindrillion looked down at the sand. Im sorry for upsetting youits just thatwell, Ive been waiting for love for so
long

Celaenas temper subsided as she looked at Cindrillion, and put a hand on her shoulder. Its not your faultIveIve
had a pretty tough life up until now, and Im afraid that Im not used to people prying into it like that. You shouldnt
want to hear about my love life anywayits pretty unromantic.

Can I ask you one more thing?

Does it involve the Crown Prince?

Well, yes. But I just want to know if he

Hmm?

Cindrillion paused, and looked down at Celaenas ring. If he loves you.

Cindrillions perception made Celaenas eyes grow wide, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

Its all right if you dont answer, Cindrillion said hurriedly, I understand.

Celaena began to cough. Understand what?

Why youre embarrassed about it.

The Crown Prince does not love me.

Hes the one who gave you that ring, isnt he?

What makes you say that?

Youre always touching itespecially when you talk about him.

Damn. Damn! Damn it all to Hell!

Iwell, he did give me this ring.

Engagement rings are normally worn on the other hand, you know.

Its not an engagement ring! she barked, her face turning a deeper shade of red.

I was just sayingfor future reference.

There will be no future reference!

Cindrillion gazed off into the distance, a dreamy smile on her face. So youre not going back to Adarlan?

Never, Celaena lied.

What if he came here?

What?

Cindrillion clicked her tongue. What if the Crown Prince came here to propose to you?

Hes not going to, so Im not going to worry about it!

But lets say he did.

Hed be killed.

By you?

No! By Wendlyn! Males cant come into this country from across seas anymore!

But hes the Crown Prince.

All the more reason to kill him!

What if he snuck in disguised as a woman and then proposed to you?

Id send him home.

Why?

Because I dont love him!

But he loves you, right?

So what if he does?

So he does love you! Oh, thats so romantic! I wish that a prince loved me! Oh, he loves you! He loooves you! The
Crown Prince LOVES you! Cindrillion danced down the beach in leaps and bounds, singing the words again and again.

He doesnt love me! she called down the beach after the young woman, wondering how she could move like that
and not have an aching back. She looked out at the water again, and saw her shadow standing on the waves, its body
moving as if to say Who exactly are you trying to fool?
Giving her shadow an obscene gesture, Celaena ran an irritated hand through her hair and chased down the beach
after Cindrillion, hoping that she hadnt opened up any of her wounds.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 10

They slept soundly that nightarriving home after sunset to find two steaming bowls of paestia waiting for them.
There was no sign of Luca, Leighanna, or Stephaenya, and, frankly, Celaena was thankful for it. Every time she
thought about the incidentwhich was quite often being as it had only happened a couple of hours agoshe felt red-
hot anger boiling in her stomach. Though she had said everything possible and necessary to them, she still felt a need
to yell at them, since yelling at the Baroness was out of the question. But wasnt she being a hypocrite by acting that
way?

It didnt make any differencethe next time she found the Baroness doing it, shed rip her to shreds, money or no
money. These things werent supposed to happen in Wendlyn, and she would see to it that they didnt.

Celaena lay awake for a little while, listening to the sound of Cindrillion sleeping in the bed next to her, making sure
that the young woman was getting the peaceful rest she deserved. After a while, Celaena slipped into a deep sleep,
exhausted both mentally and physically from the taxing day.

She didnt know when she began dreaming, but eventually she arrived at a place that felt familiar, yet entirely foreign
to her. It was a forest glencloaked in the light of the stars that burned overhead. In the air she could hear ghostly
singingas if the very trees were joined together in a haunting song. Mist swirled around the edge of the circle, and
beyond that laid a darkness that only existed in the realm of dreams.

Celaena stood for a while, staring around the enchanted glen, watching the celestial sky glow above her. It felt as if
she were awakeas if she had somehow walked in her sleep to this place in the forest, yet she knew that it wasnt
possibleshe had to be asleep.

When she saw the figure appear from between the trees, it didnt frighten her. A smell came with it: a smell of
lavender and a thousand summer nights spent laying in the grass beneath the sky, a smell that set her at ease. It
drifted into the clearing with an ancient grace that made even the trees bow with respect. The starlight brightened to
reveal a female figureclothed in flowing starry gossamer robes that seemed to melt into the sky above. There was
something about her, something so old and powerful and wise that Celaena was at loss for any kind of thought.

She drew closer, showing her long, flowing hair to be of the darkest ebony, and her face to be young and beautiful.
But her eyes

Celaena looked into those violet, star-speckled eyes and knew that this being was far older than anything living on the
earth. This woman was Fae, one of the immortal, one of the guardians of the land.

And upon seeing the crown of stars that glowed like a halo around her head, Celaena knew exactly whom she was
staring at.

Maeve, Queen of all Fae and faeries.

Celaena bowed her head in acknowledgement, dropping her eyes to the ground. Her mind felt frozen, overcome by
the beauty and grace and wisdom of this being.

She felt a hand lift up her chin and set her head straight again, her gaze rising to stare into the endless abyss of
Maeves eyes. She didnt know what to say. She had never been so transfixed by anything in her whole life.

The eyes showed space and time passing by, yet had a sorrowful weariness that made her own heart ache.
Bittersweet was the life of an immortal.

Maeve stroked Celaenas cheek with an ivory finger, her full red lips turning upwards into a slight smile that made her
feel as if she were being caressed by her very own mother.

You look just as I thought you would, Maeve said, and her silver voice seemed to release Celaena from the spell that
her appearance had cast. I am glad you have finally arrivedI have been waiting many years to meet you.
Celaenas brows contracted with confusion and she opened her mouth to speak, but Maeve held up a hand to silence
her. A time for that discussion will come later, Lady, but right now I would prefer to converse about the young
woman Cindrillion.

Celaena nodded dumbly. Maeve, Queen of the faerieshow many legends and myths had she been told that Maeve
had been a part of? How many heroes had knelt before her and begged for her blessing? Why was she here? Why did
she want to talk about Cindrillion? Was this reality or a dream?

Maeves face turned grave, and a few of the stars in her eyes seemed to fade into darkness. I have been watching
Cindrillion for many years now, watching her grow and develop, and recently I have become worried about her
condition. Each word seemed to be carefully picked and chosen, and Celaena lapped them up greedily. Her voice
seemed to be in harmony with the distant singing

I am afraid that with these darkening times, Cindrillions mental state will only become more fragile. We are on the
brink of total war: a war that I fear will consume not only the human realm, but also that of the Fae. As you clearly
noticed today, the hysterical state of Cindrillion is triggered by pain and fear. Should war come to Wendlyn with the
force that I am expecting, the young woman may slip into that condition permanently. The growing hostility of her
stepmother and stepsisters has also increased with their desperate effort to ensnare the Crown Prince of Wendlyn.

Maeve looked at Celaena as if she were staring into the depths of her soul. But today all of that changed. Today you
went and did what no one else has dared to do in the past: protect her.

I know the reasons behind what you didI know many of the things that you conceal from the worldbut I will not
delve into them for your sake. Later on, there will come a time when we shall have to, not for your sake, but for the
sake of others, but that is not for this meeting. Tonight I came to you in order to properly thank you for what you did
for Cindrillion. My faeries tell me that you have been quite a positive influence in that household, and as a token of my
gratitude, Id like to grant you one wishone of your hearts many desires. That is, if it lies within my power to do
so.

Celaena couldnt believe her ears. This was like a faerie-tale.

Well, look at whom youre speaking to.

But its a dream!

Granted, Maeve said suddenly, and Celaena blinked. She hadnt even said anything! A few more stars relit
themselves in Maeves eyes. Im afraid that your wish will have to wait to come true until the ideal time, but you will
know it when it arrives.

Celaena opened her mouth again, but Maeve silenced her once more.

Continue to look after Cindrillion and her friends, Lady.

Queen Maeve began to drift back towards the swirling mist that lined the edge of the clearing, and when she was little
more than a shadow, she spoke the words that made Celaenas world spin violently.

Continue to make your parents proud, Aelin, daughter of Evaelien.

Celaena Sardothien awoke with a jolt to harsh morning sunlight. Looking over to Cindrillions bed, she found that it
was made and empty. Where was she? The entire room was tidied and clean, and there was a kind of peaceful
atmosphere to the whole place that would have made Celaena smile were it not for the dream that had just taken
place.

No one had called her by that name in seventeen years. No one, save for Arobynn Hamel, knew that name. Had it
been a dream? Or was it some sort ofvision? It had felt as if she had physically been thereit had felt real. How had
Maeve known who she was? How had she known her mothers name? Why did the Faerie Queen care so much about
Cindrillion?

Celaena swung her legs over the side of the bed and dressed herself, her mind buzzing with questions. On the way
downstairs, she ran into Cindrillion, who was carrying a tray of teacups. The young woman smiled brilliantly at her,
and Celaena was slightly taken aback. What time was it?
Good morning! Cindrillion beamed. Sleep well?

Celaena raised an eyebrow. Like a baby, she said cautiously. Then a thought came to mind. Cindrillion, she said
gently, if you dont mind, when you have a spare minuteI need to redress yourwounds.

Cindrillion gave her a puzzled look. What wounds?

Celaena bit down on her lip. Had Cindrillion forgotten? How could she explain what had happened without sending her
into another relapse?

You Well, yesterday you were Why dont you just come with me for a minute?

Cindrillion clicked her tongue. I think you must have had a bizarre dreamtheres nothing wrong with me!

But your back

What about it? Its fine! Cindrillion smiled and moved her hair over onto her shoulder so Celaena could see. Have a
look for yourself!

Celaena took up the girls offer and peeked down the back of the girls dress. Sure enough, the wounds were
completely healedleaving only a few white lines as a reminder. How was it possible? How did

Thats incredible.

Whats incredible?

Your wounds, why theyre justhealed!

Shouldnt they be?

No! They should be still there!

From what?

Celaena shook her head, wondering if she was still dreaming, and apologized to Cindrillion for being so confusing.
Chuckling, Cindrillion went up the stairs and disappeared down a hallway.

Celaena rubbed her eyes roughly and blinked several times. How was it possible that those marks could have
disappeared? Might...might Maeve have had something to do with it? But why would the Queen of the Faeries do
something like that? Why would she care so much about a young woman?

Aelin, daughter of Evaelien.

It couldnt have been real. It just wasnt possible.

But in this country, so many things that I deemed mythological or extinct became realityMagick, faeries, the FaeIf
its possible for one of those things to be real, why shouldnt all of them be? I wouldnt be surprised if there are
dragons lurking in those mountains over there

Celaena walked into the kitchen to find three guilty faces waiting for her at the kitchen table. She then remembered
what she had said yesterdayand the way they had reacted. The tear down Leighannas face, Lucas helpless anger
and shame

It was Luca who spoke first. Wewe talked about what you said yesterday. About us caring more about money than
Cindrillion. And youre partially right. He stood up and pointed at the stairs that made a direct route to her tower
room. But you have to understand that we do care about her! I mean, Ive known her since I was nineshes always
looked out for meand Stephaenya too! Wegods above, we never meant for anything to get that bad, but when it
began happening, we were only children! I know thats no excuse for us now, but weve been used to it all our lives.
Celaena didnt say anything and instead stood still, watching them with merciless eyes.

Gods above, were not bad people! Cindrillions always been a bit bizarre, and we usually just assumed that it was

That it wasnt at all linked to what her stepfamily has done to her? she finished for Luca, her temper boiling. Well,
heres a quick run-through of what her problems are, so next time she has a mental breakdown, you can maybe
consider doing something about it if you arent getting paid the next day! She pointed at a chair. Sit, she snapped,
and Luca obeyed.

Celaena cleared her throat. Never knowing her mother made her entirely dependent on her fathers love and
constant attention. Her father idolized her mother, and apparently told her a lot about her, giving her a link to her
past and heritage. Now, when her father remarried the Baroness, it must have come as a huge shockit would have
been for any person, but for someone as sensitive as Cindrillion, it must have been detrimental. She clearly tried her
hardest to please her father and stepmother, and she still continues to do so, but when her father diedWell, lets just
say that it must have felt like she was adrift in an endless ocean without oars or a sail. She never liked her
stepmotherand without her father around to love and nurture her, she felt betrayed by both of her biological
parents. She felt, and I quote, they left me alone. To a child, without anywhere to go and no one to depend on, the
only place left to retreat to when things get too terrible and too hard to deal with are the depths of your mind. She
would go to a place where her stepmother wouldnt torment her, a place where no one could hurt her. But eventually
that place became violated and turned into a bit of a nightmare. Why? Because shed only go there when she was
beaten, whipped, humiliated. When you link a peaceful place to such bad events, its bound to become tainted. And
so, over the years, while you were growing up, her place of safety turned into a nightmare.

Each time she goes into that state, she relives all of the horrible moments of her lifeall the joy in life is void there.
There is nothing for her to cling to except for her bad memories. And with every visit to that terrible realm, she
becomes more and more fragile, more and more prone to getting lost in there; to slipping into madness.

Knowing that, she finally paused, and looked them each in the eye, can you still justify yourselves?

Lucas eyes flashed with anger. Were not like the Baroness!

Arent you? Celaena asked too quietly. Who was there to guide her out of that twisted land? Who was there to tell
her that she was needed? Who was there to tremble and shake with fear when she began to lash out physically? Who
was there to relive her memories with her? Any of you? Did any of you even dare to see what the Baroness had done?
Did you bind her wounds?

They exchanged glances. We, Leighanna said with a sigh, have done our best tokeep her safe. But sometimes you
cant save everybody, Elentulyai.

Celaena stared hard at the old woman. Why the hell not? she demanded.

Because it just isnt possible!

Maybe for you it isnt.

Maybe for me? Maybe for everyone! Listen to yourself! You come to this estate and you pretend like youre a damned
goddess! You talk back to the Baroness and her daughters, you chop two-hundred pieces of wood, you know
Sardothien and other criminals, you worked for the Crown Prince of Adarlan, and Ill admit that theres something
about you that seems bizarre, but if you think that just because you can do those things, that just because youve got
the guts and the brains to bring Cindrillion out of one of her fits, youve got some sort of divine power and duty to
save the world and everyone in it, then youre sorely mistaken! Who are you, anyway, to come in here and criticize
us? Weve gotten on fine just without your self-righteous preaching! Leighanna was angryvery angry.

Celaena snarled at the old woman. I wouldnt call Cindrillions condition fine.

And what would you have had us do? Be thrown out onto the streets?

Better the streets than letting that poor girl suffer!

And when were gone, who will take care of her? The new staff? Shed be alone again! Were her family now, and for
us to leave, thatd be far worse for her than any beating she could ever receive!
Celaena glared at her, but said nothing, accepting the truth of the womans words.

Leighanna sighed and shook her head. Were truly sorry and ashamed of ourselves that its taken us this long toto
finally be forced to confront this issue, but perhaps you can begin to understand after that being said.

Celaena looked at them again, and felt a pang of guilt. These were good and decent peoplethey didnt mean any
harm. She let out a long sigh from between her teeth. Im sorry, she finally said. I shouldnt havebeen so harsh
with you. Its just thatwell, I told you this once before, didnt I? A very dear friend of mine was killed a few months
ago. II just dont want to see anyone else wind up that way.

Luca nodded. Its perfectly understandable. WereIm sorry as well.

Celaena turned her eyes to Stephaenya, who hadnt said a word this entire time. The young woman kept her eyes on
the table and didnt move.

Stephaenya? Celaena asked, curious about her silence.

I knew, Stephaenya burst out, as if she had been waiting to say this for days, I knew what they did to her. I saw
what she was like afterwards, and I was too scared to do anything. The young woman raised tear-filled eyes to
Celaenas face. But youyou did. You fought back for her sake! You knew what to do, and I justI wanted to help
her, but I didnt know how, I didnt know that I could! She buried her face in her hands, and Luca rushed over and
put a protective arm around her heaving shoulders.

I Celaena began, beginning to feel truly sorry.

No! Stephaenya exclaimed, throwing Lucas arm off of her. Celaena was extremely impressed by the girls sudden
bout of self-reliance and strength. Nodont apologize. I just wanted, she wiped her face on her sleeve, I just
wanted to thank youfor what you did yesterdayand what you said to us. I think that Leighannas wrong. I think
that one person can save the worldthat one person can make a difference. And while you may not have saved the
entire planet, you certainly saved the small world that Cindrillion lives in for the time being.

Celaena was shocked and touched by the words of the quiet young woman, and she smiled kindly at her. Thank you,
Celaena said, and the discussion ended.

They were quiet for a few minutesLeighanna bustled about making some breakfast for Celaenaand then
conversation took a lighter turn.

Luca poked Stephaenya in the shoulder with a finger and raised an eyebrow. How have your practices been going?

Fine.

Celaena looked up from her bowl of porridge, added more sugar, dumped an entire dish of berries into the mixture,
and then gave them a quizzical look. Practices? For what?

Stephaenya blushed. Beltaen. Im, um, in a dancing group to

An official dancing group! Luca said proudly, beaming at Stephaenya, She and a few other girls were chosen to lead
everyone in the dances during the celebrations and ceremonies. When the moon rises, shell get to dance around the
bonfire and

Youre that good of a dancer? Celaena asked, stirring her food. Mmmberries.

Stephaenya bit her lip and said nothing.

Shes a damn good dancer! Luca exclaimed, grinning. Why, the High Priestess said that maybe next year, shed
hand over the lead in the dances to her! Thatd make her the youngest circle dancer inwell, in forever!

Celaena smiled, amused by Lucas pride in Stephaenyas achievements. Congratulations, she grinned. Stephaenya
nodded, her face burning.
Luca looked down at Celaenas food and winced. You have more sugar in that than porridge.

Its my food, I can do what I like with it.

He eyed the empty berry dish. You ate all of the berries!

I didnt see you eating them!

I might have if there had been any left to eat!

She snorted and shoveled more food into her mouth. Shouldnt you be working? she asked, her mouth so full that
the words were jumbled.

What? Luca asked, his nose crinkling upwards.

She swallowed and pointed at the door to the fields. Shouldnt you be working? She took another huge spoonful and
crammed it into her mouth.

Shouldnt you be watching your figure? he snapped back.

Celaenas mouth dropped open in disbelief and she instinctively looked down at her stomach and waistline. She did
look slightlyfuller, but four months ago she had been so disgustingly thin and starving that even this was a welcome
improvement. And even if she werent as thin as some of the young girls here, he shouldnt have had the nerve to
comment on it!

Work! she barked, pointing her spoon at the door. Luca stuck out his tongue.

Youll be pleased to know that until Beltaen is over, I dont have to work. After Beltaen, the harvest will begin, and Ill
probably be so busy that youll actually begin to miss me.

Dont count your chickens before they hatch, she said snappishly. She stared out the window towards the golden
fields and then realized something. Say, if its just barely spring, why is all of thatgrain and stuff there?

Luca gave her a condescending look and smiled arrogantly. We have weather here that enables us to work year-
round. However, because theres so much work involved, we share the load with the neighboring estate. What that
means is that we plant a crop in the early spring over in their fieldsand then harvest it in the late summer, early fall.
In the early fall, we plant a crop herewhich is the crop that youre seeing nowand harvest it during the beginning
of spring, right after Beltaenin a few days from now.

Celaena raised her eyebrows. For a bunch of farmers, thats a really smart plan. So you split the crop and the profit
with the next estate?

Yes, Luca said, and there was a bit of an edge to his voice that surprised her. Had she said something wrong?

Celaena finished her bowl and looked around for something else to eat. Why was she always so damn hungry?

Stephaenya, Leighanna asked from the hearth, have you got your costume made?

Celaena reached for an apple and gave Luca a look that threatened sudden death if he commented about it.

Just about, Stephaenya said quietly.

Whats it like? Celaena bit into the apple, squirting juice across the table.

A dress.

How descriptive! It sounds marvelous! she said with false enthusiasm.

Stephaenya smiled slightly. Its green, and has a skirt that goes down to mid-calfand, I dont knowits just a
dress.

Then why do you call it a costume?

Because shes got to wear a headdress and make-up! Luca burst in.

To dance? Wont that be a bit difficult?

Stephaenya shook her head. Its more of a circletits not that bad.

Have you done it before?

Since she was old enough to walk! Luca interrupted again.

Cant you let her speak for herself?

Cant you ever stop eating?

Why, you insol

Oh, stop it! You two are both ridiculous! Cant you ever stop bickering? Leighanna shook her wooden spoon at them.
If you cant be nice, dont say anything at all!

That takes all of the fun out of life, Celaena said with a sneer in Lucas direction. He stuck out his tongue at her and
she mouthed a curse that made his eyes bulge.

Elentulyai, you sound as if youve never celebrated Beltaen, Leighanna said over her shoulder as she resumed
cooking.

Well, I did as a child in Trasien, but I never did after that.

I thought they still celebrated holidays in Adarlan, Luca said.

They do, but not to the extent that you do here in Wendlyn. Beltaen has just turned into an excuse for young lovers
to have pre-marital sexlike every holiday.

Celaena noticed with delight how Luca and Stephaenya didnt dare look at each other, and each turned an awkward
color of pink. She tried, but couldnt stop a smile from rising to her face. Im looking forward to seeing how you
celebrate it here. Perhaps I should book a reservation for the hayloft now?

They were both so blatantly ignoring each other that Celaena began to laugh. She had forgotten how awkward things
could be when youre in love!

So do you just dance around bonfires or do you actually go to services? she asked, giving the two a break.

In the morning there are services all over the placetheres a temple in the woods a mile or so from here thats used
only for the holidays, and thats where were all going to beif youd like to join us, the old woman offered.

She remembered the last holiday service she had attendedit had been with Anuksunand she had then received
that golden arrow, which she had used as her calling card when she had slaughtered that bastard Graev. She still
remembered his screams of horror and cries for mercy. A sick sense of satisfaction filled her veins and she gloated
inwardly about the havoc that she had caused in Adarlan. She hadnt minded killing themin fact, she had loved it.
Some of the assassins and criminals she had knownsome she had actually know her whole lifeothers she had just
known from word of mouth. But past history or none, they had all been the same to her. They had all deserved to die.

No thanks, Celaena said, I dont reallybelieve in that kind of thing.

In services or in the Goddess?

In both.

Why not?

Why should I? Celaena replied, munching away happily on her apple.

Everyone needs a little faith and guidance, Leighanna said.

Not me, Celaena said cheerily.

Why am I not surprised? Luca asked, exasperated.

She shot him a dirty look and tossed her apple core at him. Dont be so impertinent.

So you dont believe in the Goddess, or do you just not believe in religion at all? Leighanna asked, sitting down at
the table.

Again, both. I dont understand why someone would want to waste their time praying to something to make their
lives better when they could just go out and do it for themselves.

Some people arent strong enough for that kind of thingsome people need to believe that theres something out
their watching over them.

Stupid old woman! There isits called friends and family.

I was referring to divine power.

Well, which divine power are you talking about? You have about seven or eight minor gods and then the all-powerful
Goddessyou have a whole selection to choose from! You know that they only created the minor gods so that
everyone could have something to relate to and buy into your religion.

But Ive heard you use the phrase gods above, many times, Luca added in.

Oh, that Its purely a cultural thingits like saying my goodness! or something along those linesyou say it
without really thinking about the meaning behind it.

So are you just going to sit in the kitchen all day long while were out celebrating? Its not just about gods and
goddesses, you knowIts about life starting againabout hope. Unless you believe that people dont need hope as
well, Leighanna said with a bit of steel to her voice.

Celaena gave her a sassy look and grinned. Am I allowed to participate in the joyful activities without first tasting the
boredom of the service?

Leighanna glared at her. While this isnt your religion, this is ours, so you could do with a bit of respect for it.

Celaena frowned and muttered an apology. Sometimes she could get a little carried away with expressing her views,
butwell, she was right about them! Religion was a ridiculous thing for her to participate in. Why should she believe in
something that would only condemn her for her past actions?

Flicking her hair behind her shoulders, Celaena stood and moved over to the sink, preparing to do her daily chores.

An air of heightened good will and cheer filled the land over the next two days, and the smells of baked goods and
delights drifted with clouds of laughter on the back of the wind.

She watched with amusement as Stephaenya practiced her dance steps in the kitchen while doing her work, the girls
nervousness getting the better of her. Cindrillion would come in from wherever she drifted off to during the day and
would dance with Stephaenya, providing an able dance partner. They both were surprisingly graceful and beautiful to
watchtheir movements feral, yet cultured. The only dances that she knew how to do were useless waltzes, taught to
her by Madam Tulrouse.
Celaena had fun putting up decorations with Leighanna and Luca while the two young girls danced away in the
kitchen, covering the kitchen and outside of the house with wreaths and garlands and bells and little trinkets that
hung from strings. She aided the old woman with cleaning out the kitchen, and actually learned a few native songs of
Wendlyn in the process of doing so. She couldnt sing them to save her life, but it was still interesting to know a bit
more about their culture.

She tried her best to forget about the bizarre dream with the Faerie Queen Maeve, but the prospect that a wish of
hers could be granted in the near future caused a lot of thought and self-debate. There were a thousand things she
wanted out of life: freedom, and endless supply of berries and paestia, a library of her own, and a few much more
deep and private wishes that she seldom thought about for she knew that the likelihood of their coming true was non-
existent. Celaena knew that she shouldnt even be considering the possibility that she might receive an award for her
behavior, that the dream was probably only a dream, but a part of her mind insisted that it had been more than a
dream, that on some sort of astrologically-projected medium, she had met Queen Maeve.

There were plenty of sensible unconscious-self-explanations for how the Queen had known her real nameand that of
her motherbut there had been a reality, a logic to the dream that defied the irksome insanity of dreams.

She awoke on the morning of Beltaen to a kind of barely-contained excitement. Cindrillion was bustling about the
room, wearing a crisp white dress that she hadnt seen before. Her hair was smooth and around her crown she had a
garland of tiny pink and white flowers and made her eyes sparkle. Celaena smiled sleepily at the young woman,
mumbled something incoherent about how pretty she looked, and turned over to get more sleep, realizing that the
Baroness had given her the day and night off, due to their attendance to some gathering of nobles several miles
away. She could sleep all day if she wanted

She heard Cindrillion laugh, and before she knew it, her blanket had been yanked off of her and into the air, exposing
her bare legs to the chill of the morning. Celaena groaned and curled up into a ball, tucking her long legs into a fetal
position beneath her nightgown.

Then she heard itthe high-pitched cackle of malicious glee.

And then it happened.

Before she could react, she felt a sharp pain pierce her backside, and with a howl of anger and agony, she leapt
upwards, clutching herself. She saw the faerie floating in the air, clutching its stomach with laughter, and she made a
swab at it, but it darted out of reach, grinning wickedly.

Its nothing to be angry about! Cindrillion laughed again.

It pinched my ass!

Cindrillion tried not to laugh, but then did anyway.

Celaena rubbed the sore spot and grumbled to herself as she walked over to the washbasin and dunked her face
straight into the ice-cold water, covering her backside with her hands for extra protection from further assault.

It was so early

She lifted her head out of the water to breathe and then stuck it down again, hoping to get rid of the ache of waking
up too early.

If you continue to drown yourself, youre going to be late!

Celaena raised her face from the water and fumbled blindly for a towel. Late for what? she asked, smothering her
face with the warm fabric.

Why, late for the service!

Celaena tossed the towel down and took her blanket from Cindrillion. Im not going to the service, she said bluntly
and made her way back towards her bed. If this was why she had been awoken, then she was going straight back to
sleep.
But everyone goes! Its tradition! Cindrillion sounded slightly upset and offended, but Celaena found that for once,
she could care less.

Not for me, she grumbled, and lay down on her bed, pulling the blanket up and over her head.

Butbut you have to go!

Says who?

The Goddess!

Celaena opened an eye beneath the covers and let out a sigh. I actually know for a fact that the Creed of the
Goddess does not demand that you celebrate in a house of worship.

But youre not celebrating at all! Cindrillion was beginning to work herself up. Celaena lowered the blanket and sat
up, eying the girl cautiously.

Ill go see Stephaenya dance tonight.

Butbut Beltaen isnt just about dancing! Its about starting over again and hope and love and

I know, Celaena interrupted, but holidaysthey, uh, bring up some bad memories with me.

About Symeth?

Celaena snorted and shook her head. No, about other people.

Your parents?

Celaenas face turned serious and cold. Maybe.

Cindrillion fluffed her hair. I dont think that you should let yourself be controlled by your past so much.

Celaena blinked at the insightful comment. What? she asked, not sure if she had heard her correctly.

Cindrillion straightened her garland. You always get so moody and angry and sad when you talk about your past. You
should just let things go, Elentulyai. Dont let your past rule who you are.

Thats the pot calling the kettle black!

I let plenty of things go, she growled.

Then why arent you going to the service?

Because I dont like religion!

Because you dont like what memories it brings up for you!

Celaena was stunned silent by the uncanny insight of the half-sane young woman.

Cindrillion walked over to the door and, for the first time since they had met, looked very angry. I have to go now,
but if you feel the need to go to the service, just walk a mile westward down the road that leads past the chateau.
You cant miss it. Cindrillion paused for a moment and pointed towards the dressing curtain and the extra garland
that hung on one of its posts. I made you that this morningbut if you dont wear it, Ill understand. She then
slammed the door with such force that the faerie who had been watching their conversation from the table where the
animal cages lay shook his fist at her, then flew forward to savagely yank on a piece of her hair before zooming out
the window at top speed.
There goes any chance I had at getting whatever wish Maeve granted me come trueThat is, if that dream was even
real

Sighing, Celaena looked at the closed door and frowned deeply. She had put Cindrillions sensitive feelings on the line
for the sake of a fatigue that didnt exist anymore.

Shit.

She knew that itd be impossible to sleep after that, and, cursing herself for turning into such a sensitive sap, she
hurried about dressing herself, choosing the outfit she had bought in Port Moselian the day she had first arrived. She
didnt want to stick out like a sore thumb, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that she already
did. These clothes were far too nice to be worn around common-folk!

She turned to see her profile and smiled slightly. But then again

It was a simple dresssheer, light blue fabric that fell to mid-calfbut it had an elegance that made it look as if the
finest tailor in the world had made it. Celaena ran her hands through her hair and looked at it with a grimace. It
lookedboring. She had no idea how to do her hair on her ownshe could barely even manage a braidand after
fumbling through Cindrillions small basket of hairbrushes and accessories, she found something that looked capable
enough of holding her hair back. She tried for several minutes to get it into a decent-looking style, but eventually
wound up with it in a half-up, half-down design that was more practical than anything else. At least it got her hair out
of her face.

A grin crept across her lips as she surveyed herself again. For the first time in weeks, she felt that she really looked
charming, but there seemed to be something missing

She looked around, hoping to find what else could possibly improve her appearance, and her eyes fell upon the
garland that Cindrillion had made for her. It had blue and white flowersas if the girl had already known what she
was wearing todayand upon placing it on her head, Celaena found that it fit perfectly.

Celaena smiled to herself and twirled in front of the mirror, waving her skirts about. She had forgotten what it was
like to feel feminine and attractive!

If only Dorian could see me like thi

Oh, stop it!

Celaena left the room before she could think further of it, and rushed out of the house, hoping to catch up with
Cindrillion. Walking down the avenue of trees that lined the driveway, Celaena was amazed to find how much more
comfortable she felt walking through them than she had that first night. She felt a kind of brotherly affection for them
as if their tall trunks and limbs were reaching upwards to shield her from somethingit was a bizarre feeling. They
were now decorated with long streams of flowers and banners, and as she neared the main road, she saw a small
group of people ahead of her that seemed to be heading towards the same direction and purpose as she was. She
could tell already that they werent the people she was searching for, but she followed them just to make sure that
she was going the right way.

It was a long walk, and she was grateful that she had chosen to wear her comfortable black shoes instead of the ones
she had bought to match the dress. They reached the temple about twenty minutes later, and it was far from
anything she had expected. It was a small stone buildinglittle more than a cottage, and it was packed from front to
back with people, peasants and nobles alike (judging from their attire). Her eyes scanning the crowd, she saw her
party seated in one of the wooden pews towards the front, Cindrillions golden hair and beautiful wreath giving away
their position. Celaena knew just from looking that there was no room for her on the bench, and her pride also kept
her hidden and silent in the back. Shed tell Cindrillion about it laterthe others didnt need to know.

Celaena lurked by the large wooden doors as others continued to pour into the already packed temple, taking any
spot that looked free: they sat in the aisles, stood in the column-supported walkways that lined either side of the
temple, and some even sat on the laps of others. She was amazed at the turnout and the air of excited anticipation
that was crammed into the roomit was as if these people looked forward to this kind of thing!

After several minutes, she saw a figure emerge from the left side of the temples raised altar platform, and a hushed
silence rippled through the crowd. It was the High Priestess, clothed entirely in white, her broad, clear brow proudly
displaying the navy crescent moon that had been tattooed upon her entry into the coven. Celaena looked at the silver
circlet that nearly blended into her silver hair, and felt her breath sucked out of her as she saw the wisdom and grace
of her years of learning that lay in her dark eyes. The High Priestess raised her arms above her head in greeting,
smiling at the congregation.

Merry Beltaen, she said in a strong voice that made even the birds outside stop singing to listen.

Merry Beltaen, the gathered crowd replied in one voice, and the High Priestess smiled again.

I know that there is much to say this year, and I am eagerly awaiting the opportunity to speak to you about it, but
for now, I would like to ask all of you to join me in saying the Charge of the Goddess. She reached for the silver
scepter that lay on an altar table and held it high in the air, its crescent-moon tip glimmering in the light that flowed
in from the ornate stained glass windows.

With a deep breath, they all began in a voice that shook the earth:

Listen to the words of the Great Goddess,

Who has been called by many names and titles in ages long since past

Whenever you have need of My aid and strength,

Know that My laws and love shall make you free,

For no man can prevent your worship of Me in your mind and heart.

Listen well when you come into My presence,

And I shall teach you of deep mysteries, ancient and powerful.

I require no sacrifices or pain of your bodies or of those of others, animal or not,

For I am Mother of all things,

The Creator who made you out of My love,

And the One who endures through all time.

I am the One who is the beauty of the Earth,

The green of all growing things.

I am the white Moon, whose light is full among the stars,

Soft upon the Earth.

From Me all things are born,

To Me, all things, in their season, return.

Let My joyous worship be in your hearts,

For all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.

You see Me in the love between man and woman, the love between parent and child, the love between all My
creations.

When you create with your hands, I am there.

I blow the breath of Life into the seeds you plant,

Whether of plant or child.

Always I stand beside you, whispering soft words of wisdom and guidance.

All seekers of the Mysteries must come to Me,

For I am the True Source, the Keeper of the Cauldron.

All who seek to know Me, know this well...

All your seeking and yearning will not avail you unless you know the Mystery:

For if what you seek you find not within, you will never find it without.

For behold, I have been with you from the beginning,

And I will gather you to My breast at the end of your earthly existence.

Blessed be.

Celaena stood in the doorway still, completely transfixed by the power of these words. She had never heard the
Charge of the Goddess said with those wordsand now she knew why. Had Adarlan allowed for such words to be
spoken, especially regarding freedom of mind and heart, there would have been uprisings after every holiday
ceremony. Once again, the King of Adarlan had managed to take something pure and meaningful and destroy and
warp it into something different or completely annihilated. Such a Charge had probably been spoken in Trasien at one
time, but she had been too young to remember it.

The congregation then began to go through the series of prayers and blessings, and Celaena listened, utterly
fascinated by the enthusiasm and deep conviction that these people held.

After an hour, they were finished, and there was a rustling sound as everyone adjusted themselves in preparation for
the sermon of the High Priestess.

As you know, she began again with her powerful voice, these are dark times for Wendlyn.

Celaena found herself straightening up, a sudden feeling of guilt overwhelming her as she remembered why exactly
she was in this country to begin with. Her feet felt strangely glued to the floor, as if some enchantment had been
placed upon her so that she had to stay to listen to the High Priestess. Without anything else to do, Celaena crossed
her arms and listened.

We are on the brink of mass war with Adarlanlet but one defense fail on our borders and all of Wendlyn may fall.
Some of you I am sure have already suffered great losses in this fight against tyranny and oppression. But I have not
come to tell you what you have heard on the streets and from our King. I have not come to tell you of facts that will
dampen your spirits and fuel you to fear, but rather to tell you of the options that you have in these dark months or
years ahead.

Choice, she boomed, and Celaenas eyes widened slightly, is our greatest weapon and power in this world, more
than magick or technology or wealth. Our everyday lives are made up of choices, for that is essentially what defines
our characters. It does not matter if you were born a prince or a pauper, rich or poor, big or small. What matters is
what you choose to do with your lifewhat you do with the time thats given to you.

Without warning, words from a memory long since past echoed in Celaenas ears, and her hand rose to her throat.

That her path would be of both the night and the day; and that her choice will save or damn us all.

Why couldnt she find the will to leave this place? It was only going to drag up bad memories. She wanted her feet to
move, but they couldnt, she was pinned in place as the words of the sermon and the words of her past slammed into
her. Celaenas eyes began to feel moist as these words drove themselves home again and again.
I made that choice already, didnt I? I made my choice and damned them all to HellII failed them.

She had not thought that for seventeen years. Seventeen years of forced forgetting and denial, seventeen years spent
hiding with concealed shame and regret. It all seemed to come rushing back at her. She needed to get out of here;
she needed to get away before she thought anymore of it

Blessed are those with the power of choice who choose to use it, the High Priestess echoed through the temple,
and damned are those who choose to throw it away!

her choice will save or damn us all.

Celaenas hand was clamped so tightly around her neck that she could barely breathe. Chills raced up and down her
arms, her heart pounded like a drum in her chest, and what had begun as moisture turned into a shimmering veil that
blinded her eyes. She shouldnt have come to thisshe should have known that this kind of thing would turn into guilt
and shame and self-hatred. In a burst of will and determination and fear, she turned to leave, but then the High
Priestess began to speak again, and she froze, facing the open door to the forest, letting the words hit her again like
booms of thunder.

You will all one day face your fateyou will all one day have the option to choose between what you believe in the
depths of your heart to be right and what is the easy path out.

save or damn us all.

Death and pain are nothing so powerful as compassion, mercy, and love.

Run far away and never return

You dont want to be that selfish, dyou?

And should the time come when you are faced with the choice between giving in and fighting for what you believe in,
for what you love

Her breath came in ragged intervals, and her eyes stung.

Continue to make your parents proud, Aelin, daughter of Evaelien.

know that your choice will not only affect yourself, but the lives of those around youand possibly beyond that.

the stags will die.

Why is it always death and killing and darkness? Why is there so much killing in the world?

You must leave soonbefore its too late again. Before he finally catches you.

Celaena, with your past you could

She couldnt stop itshe couldnt stop the well of emotions and memories that were assaulting her. She was a waste
of life, a wretched wasted

Celaena closed her eyes, letting out a small gasp of soul-wrenched pain, and silent tears slipped down her face.

I know what I could do. And I wouldnt do it. It wouldnt work. Not now, not ever.

CHOICE IS THE ESSENCE OF OUR CHARACTERS, bellowed the High Priestess once more.

Not like this, please! Fight it; fight her! Youve got to! You cant go backyou cant go back to that endless darkness!
She couldnt find a way to make it ceaseshe couldnt stop the tears or the memories or anything else that seemed to
be attacking her at the moment. She had spent so many years trying to keep this under control, trying to forget
Why did her defenses choose to fall apart now?

Light and darkness. Life and death. Where do I fit in?

If ever you are in need of guidance, look to your hearts, look to the Goddess. Remember her words: Whenever you
have need of My aid and strength, know that My laws and love shall make you free But also know that: For if what
you seek you find not within, you will never find it without.

I should be dead. I should have died instead of her, I should have died seventeen years ago.

Celaena covered her face with her hands, her heart twisting and writhing in her chest.

You never did kill any of us from Trasien, did you?

I let them all downI failed them allI damned them all. How many millions wouldnt have suffered if I had chosen
the other path? If I hadnt been such a coward How many more would be living in freedom?

How could my parents possibly be proud of me for what Ive become? For the monstrous wreck of a person that I
amFor what I did with my life

I can ask nothing more of you in these upcoming times than to be courageous and honest and loyalto both
yourselves and to your country. Realize that no matter how impossible the fight, now weighed the odds, how dark and
hopeless it may seem

Dont let your past rule who you are.

Her shoulders were shaking, and she saw things that she had put in the back of her mind for a reasonmangled,
awful corpsesso many dead bodies that the number seemed impossible to calculate. She saw the faces of her
parents, her victims, Anuksun, her uncle, Symeth, and countless others who had come and gone in her life.

Celaena Sardothien then saw something that made her hands drop from her face and her eyes stare out at the trees,
wide with grief and years of repressed horror: a little girl, Aelin, laying in bed between the two cooling corpses of her
parents, unaware that she was sleeping with Death, unaware that it was blood, not water on the bed, unaware that
her world had just ended. Celaena heard the screams of the servant when she found them in the morning, and she
felt the strong arms of her chambermaid lift her away from the bed as she gazed with shocked disbelief at the sight
that lay before her. She remembered her denial, then the fear that set in when she realized that not only was she now
an orphan, but her parents had been murdered. She had been cold and covered with her parents blood, and she
remembered the harsh scrubbing that the maid had given her in the bath to wipe away the remnants of the horrid
affair. Someone had come in to take the bodies away, and a messenger arrived to tell them that the King of Trasien
had been murdered during the night as wellpoisoned. Her entire family was now dead. She remembered the
numbing grief, the numbing terror

that there is always some good in the world thats worth fighting forworth dying for.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Celaena saw Anuksun, then the face of Cindrillion.

Remember that. Remember those who have stood their ground and died for it. Remember those long since past, and
those that are still here today, fighting.

If you loyally served the real royal family of Trasien, why are you here now?

For the same reasons you are

Celaena wiped her wet face and sniffed, looking back over her shoulder at the High Priestess, whose face was lit with
passion. They made eye contact for a second and Celaena suddenly felt a great weight released from her chest as the
High Priestess nodded her head slightly in recognition and emphasis. Those who stood near the assassin turned to
look at her, wondering whom the High Priestess had given notice to, but Celaena didnt see them.

The spell of the High Priestess released, she walked out of the temple and into the forest as the woman began to
speak again, her insides quivering and heart throbbing from the intensity and depth of memory and soul that the
sermon had caused her to feel.

She didnt know how long she walked forand she wound up on top of a hill that overlooked a little emerald-green
valley. Without wanting to be anywhere else at the moment, Celaena Sardothien sat down in the soft grass, drew her
knees to her chest, and thought for a long while.

Celaena spent the remainder of the morning and afternoon in that little empty valley, wandering along its small hills
and dipping her feet in its many tiny creeks. In the distance, the sound of merriment began to grow, and as the sun
began its final stretch towards the horizon, she followed those sounds to find a great celebration going on across a
great plain.

There was a great bonfire burning skyward, and around it many were already gathered and dancing. A large group of
musicians sat nearby, playing wild and boisterous melodies on their foreign instruments, and all across the field were
maypoles and dancers and tables of food that emitted smells so appetizing and delicious that her mouth began
watering. She hadnt eaten anything all day and she was famished. She strode towards the endless line of food tables,
wishing that she had brought some money with her in order to pay for it, expecting that shed have to charm her way
into getting some food for free. However, upon closer inspection, she noticed that those at the buffet were not paying
a single copper coin for the food that they took. Celaena picked up a cracked and chipped plate from the pile at the
end and walked along the tables, picking and taking where she saw fit. Until she saw the mound of berries that were
pouring like a waterfall from a bowl that was nearly the size of the table it was set on.

Celaena couldnt help herselfshe ran back to the end of the tables, grabbed another plate, ran back, and piled it high
with so many berries that a constant stream of them were falling off to the ground.

She looked around for Cindrillion and Luca, and to her luck, she found them sitting on a large blanket near the
bonfire, eating a meal. Celaena made her way over to them, trying her best to keep her berries from rolling off the
plate, and when she eventually arrived at their blanket, they gave her such surprised and pleased looks that a feeling
of good will spread through her.

Then Luca noticed her two plates.

Eating for two, are we?

Celaena scowled and took off her shoes so she didnt get the blanket dirty. Berries are hardly a meal.

But all of the meat you have on your other plate is.

Cindrillion smiled up at Celaena and patted the empty place beside her. You look lovely, Elentulyai! Sit down!

Luca snorted. If she can fit on the blanket.

Had she not had both her hands full, Celaena would have smacked him for that comment, but as her berries were
about to scatter across the blanket, Celaena kicked him playfully in the side. He yelped and immediately grabbed onto
her leg, causing her to lose her balance. Celaena fought desperately to keep her food from falling off the plate, but
Luca refused to let go of her and was trying to get her to fall over. She began to curse at him to release her, but he
just laughed and made her balancing act all the more difficult.

Youre wearing the garland I made for you! Cindrillion exclaimed, oblivious to the struggle that was going on.

Celaena smiled at her with gritted teeth. Yes, she said as she held her plates high above her head. I even went to
that service of yours.

Luca tugged her leg so violently that she almost toppled over, and an assault of blueberries plunked down on her
head. Deciding that this was war, she did the sensible thing and handed the plates to Cindrillion before throwing
herself on top of the youth in an effort to get her hands around his neck.
You terrible boy, Im going to wring your neck for that! she howled, forgetting that she was wearing a dress.

Cindrillion looked around, suddenly embarrassed at the wrestling match that was going on, and placed the plates far
away from them.

Let go! Let gahhh! Her hands closed on his neck and she playfully squeezed it, her legs pinning him in place. Stahh
stahh! he choked, whether from pain or laughter she didnt know. Stahhhh! Mmm saahwee-agh! Agh!

What? Sorry, didnt hear you! she crowed, the berries that had lodged themselves on her head falling down onto his
face. He caught one in his mouth, and, in an impressive display of wit and reflexes, spat it into her face, causing her
to pause for a moment. That was all he needed.

With a cry, he hurled her backwards off of him and was upon her, and instead of the beating she expected, she felt
herself explode into fits of laughter as he began to tickle her.

Ah! she screamed in between peals of laughter. Ah, stop! Stoah! AH! No! He had rotated and now sat on her
legs, ruthlessly tickling her bare feet.

Luca was laughing as hard as she was, and as the tickling became more and more unbearable, she lurched forward,
her stomach muscles objecting, and grabbed onto him, trying to pry him off of her. They struggled for a few more
moments, and Cindrillion turned several shades of red.

Then someone passing by called to them teasingly: Those kind of festivities are for after the bonfire tonight! and
they halted, realizing what it must have looked like. She wasnt that embarrassed, but it was Luca who actually looked
humiliated.

He blushed deeply as he got off of her and sat down on the other side of Cindrillion, beginning to eat his own food
once more.

Celaena picked up her garland from where it had fallen and seated herself, adjusting her dress. It had become very
quiet on their blanket. Celaena, curious, peered around Cindrillion to look at Luca.

Serves you right for

Oh, stop it, he snapped, and Celaena blinked, unsure of what he had just heard.

What?

Whyd you have to do that?

Do what?

Leap on top of me!

You assaulted me first!

Do you know what it looked like?

So? Who cares? Luca, we werent doing anything. A thought entered her mind and she gaped at him wide-eyed.
Luca, look, Im twenty-five, youre sixteen, Im sorry, but

I dont fancy you! he spat, and then looked around cautiously. Cindrillion was happily staring off into the distance,
blatantly ignoring them. What if someone tells Stephaenya?

Celaena raised an eyebrow. Tells her what?

That they saw me rolling around in the grass with another girl!

But we were fighting! You were tickling me!

Luca ran a hand through his hair and looked very worried. You dont understand what its like herewe dont flirt
around with lovers and such like you do in Adarlan. You meet one person here and you know that theyre the one for
youyou mate for life.

Celaena almost thought about asking him if he was calling her a whore, but his concern kept her mouth shut.

Do you know what Stephaenya would thinkwhat she say if she heard from someone that they saw me doing what it
looked like we were?

But we werent, you idiot!

Shes been very on-edge with me since you got here! Shed assume the worst and itd break her heart and mine and

Wait, wait, waityoure telling me that Stephaenya is afraid of me taking you away from her? Celaena began to
cackle, unable to stop herself. Herfalling in love with a sixteen year-old peasant boy! When the Crown Prince of
Adarlan was on the verge of proposing to her!

Its not funny! he yelled, but she was too busy laughing to notice. Shed never speak to me again if she thought
that I had gotten involved with you!

Celaena laughed for a while longer, her head tipped back in a cackle. If youre so worried, why dont I just tell her
that Im not interested in you in the least?

Luca frowned. Because then shed know that I told you and shed be really embarrassed! He paused and his brows
bunched together. Not in the least? Why?

Celaena laughed again and crammed a few berries into her mouth.

Because shes going to marry the Crown Prince of Adarlan, Cindrillion said, suddenly joining their conversation, and
Celaena choked, her face turning red.

I am not going to marry him! she barked and sputtered, and Cindrillion covered her mouth as she giggled. Its not
funny! Celaena snarled, and threw a blueberry at Cindrillion.

Luca smiled deviously. So, is that ring what I think it is? he asked, jerking his head at the ring on Celaenas hand.

NO! she bellowed, and tried to take the ring off, but her fingers had swollen and it wouldnt budge.

Yes, it is! sang Cindrillion in an operatic tone. Theyre getting married when the prince comes over disguised as a
woman to confess his looooooove! She and Luca burst into laughter and Celaena scowled at them.

You two are awful! she exclaimed, still attempting to get the ring off. Since when were her fingers this fat? Before
anything else could be said, a cheer exploded from the field, and Celaena looked up.

The sun was just about to go down, its last sliver of red light slipping into the earth. As it disappeared, the cheer grew
louder, both Luca and Cindrillion joining in. A single drum began to beat, and silence spread in a wave.

A haunting voice rose from the musicians area, and Celaena saw the High Priestess rise, her head tipped back in
song. It was a wordless melody, but she knew the meaning nonetheless: a summons. Her voice lifted and dropped
like the wind, and a large strand of people, linked by their hands, moved to circle around the bonfire. In the fading
light, Celaena made out Stephaenyas face, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Luca fervently waving at her.
The young woman suppressed a smile and her body tensed with the dancers as the High Priestess stopped her song
and joined the circle, closing it with her ancient hands.

There was a second of silence then: a second when everyone seemed to hold their breath, and then the music began
again, launching the dancers into movement with its wild beat. Her feet tapped along to the feral melody, and she
watched the dancers perform the dance that she had seen Stephaenya practice so many times in the kitchen.
Their feet stepped to the beat of the drum, sending vibrations through the earth as they pounded it; and as the pace
quickened, they seemed to draw forth all the energy that had filled the air in the past few days and use it to weave a
spell of magickal enchantment. Celaena watched with delight as they spun and stomped, their arms and legs
intertwining in a dance that was probably as old as this country.

Stephaenya moved with a fluid grace that made her appear like a nymphher arms and neck poised so elegantly that
she could have been the finest dancer in Renarils elite dance company. She saw the pride and joy that was emitting
from Lucas face and Celaena smiled, hoping that they had reserved the hayloft.

The dance went on for a while, spiraling around the fire as the light faded into darkness, summoning an energy that
electrified the air. The beat became more intense, and Celaena felt her skin prickle with the unearthly presence she
felt building in the dancers circle. The High Priestess began to sing againa wonder to Celaena since the old woman
was also dancingand her voice seemed to evoke even more of whatever was building in the circle.

Its almost complete now, Cindrillion whispered to Celaena, not taking her eyes off of the dancers.

What is? Celaena whispered back, noticing the haze that appeared to be building around the dancers feet.

The spellthe ritual. The High Priestesss voice hit a high note and held it and the drums rumbled in reply, the
dancers spinning and stepping with such rate that Celaena was afraid theyd fall down. As the womans voice
continued to hold the note, it felt as if a wave were about to break. Brace yourself, Cindrillion hissed, and grabbed
onto Celaenas hand.

For what?

For the magick, Cindrillion replied, and then everything stopped. The haze she had seen was sucked into the fire and
then, before Celaena could blink, it shot outwards in all directions, not just a cloud, but a forcea warm wind, a
shower of blue sparks, a power that she had felt the first day in Wendlyn.

It hit them and passed straight through them, Celaena clenching her eyes shut and ducking her head down to protect
herself. Not surprisingly, nothing hurt hersave for the breeze that whizzed by. There was a silence for a moment,
while everyone savored and absorbed the energy that had been released, and then a loud cheer erupted. The dancers
bowed, and Luca clapped so hard that Celaena told him that his hands were going to break in two.

The band took a break for a moment and then resumed playing, a lively tune that invited all to join in. Couples rose
from their blankets and took up their places alongside the dancers. Luca grinned at the two girls as he stood up.

Well, my fine ladies, Ive got some obligatory dancing to do with my sweetheart. Dont waste the evening being old
maids! He winked roguishly at them and bounded towards the fire where Stephaenya was waiting for him. Celaena
watched with a smile as they joined together and bounced away with the other couples dancing around the fire, their
faces lit with joy and contentment.

Its so romantic, isnt it? Cindrillion sighed, and stared at the moving circle of people. Theyve known each other for
five yearsand hes loved her since the first day she got here. Kind of like you and Symeth.

Celaena couldnt help but snort. Except they arent the two best assassins in the world. Kind of.

I wish I had someone to dance with, Cindrillion groaned, frowning.

Dont you have someone who you fancy enough to ask?

Cindrillion gave her a stern look. Ive already told youIm waiting for my prince.

Celaena chuckled. I think that for one night, any handsome lad will do.

Cindrillion considered this. But I dont know most of these people!

Youve lived here your whole life, how can you not know them?
Well, they come from all overbut even the ones that live hereI dont really venture off of the estate, and I rarely
ever see anyone in the woods

Celaena removed her garland and loosened the tie in her hair, letting it fall down. Then it wont matter if you ask any
of them.

What?

Just go up to anyone and ask them to dance! Youll never see them again, so whats it matter?

Cindrillion bit down on her lip. But what if they say no?

Celaena shrugged. Punch them in the face.

What?

Celaena winced. Oops. Justwell, then go ask someone else! Youre a beautiful girl, I doubt that youll have any
trouble finding a partner.

Cindrillion looked down at the ground. But I dont know what to say!

Celaena raised her eyebrows. How about Dyou want to dance with me?

I cant.

Why not?

Because I dont know them!

Thats what makes it exciting!

They were silent for a moment, listening to the music play all around them. It was now dark enough so that several
more bonfires had to be lit, providing more light and more dancing space. Celaena watched the crowd and saw two
boys standing nearby, watching them. One of them was actually pretty decent-looking. She grinned with amusement
as they ended their discussion and sauntered over to them. She elbowed Cindrillion in the ribs and hissed. Dont look
now, but I think your chance has just arrived.

What? Cindrillion asked, then she saw the two boys standing before them. Celaena looked up at them from their
spot on the ground and smiled pleasantly. The boys exchanged glances and the handsomer of the two glanced at
Cindrillion, who was gazing at them with a blend of curiosity and barely-contained embarrassed shyness.

Dyou want to have a go at it? he asked casually, jerking his chin at the bonfire, and Cindrillion blinked.

He means do you want to dance, Celaena said, and added in warningly to the young man, and nothing else. She
smiled, but her eyes had an expression that further enhanced her message.

Oh! Cindrillion exclaimed, and the two youths raised their eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Say yes, Celaena muttered out of the side of her mouth, trying to keep a pleasant smile on her lips.

Well? the youth asked, and Cindrillion, after a second of hesitation, nodded in consent. He offered his hand to her to
help her up, and she took it, smiling down at Celaena.

Have fun! she called to Cindrillion and her partner, grinning from ear to ear, and watched as they headed off to the
bonfire, hand in hand.

Celaenas smile faded when she turned her gaze back to the friend of Cindrillions dancing partner. He raised his
eyebrows expectantly, and in return she gave him a look as if to ask him what the hell he thought he was looking at.
Frowning, the boy turned away and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Celaena to finish her dinner in peace,
choosing to start on the biggest chunk of meat on her plate.

Unfortunately, she hadnt realized that all of the scents in the air had to come from a variety of spices. Incredibly hot
spices. Her mouth began to burn and she felt her eyes watering.

She needed something to drink! She needed water! Standing up and rushing over to the food tables with a speed that
was practically faster than the wind, Celaena downed several glasses of water and wine before the fire in her mouth
died. She was halfway through chugging her third glass of sweet berry wine when she heard someone talk to her from
behind.

Thats an awful lot of wine for someone to down in less than five minutes.

Celaena turned, her cup still to her lips, and saw Galan, her mysterious stranger from the woods, standing in front of
her, a smile of amusement on his face.

She gulped down the rest of the glass and set it down on the table, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

What are you doing here? she asked him breathlessly.

Galan raised an eyebrow. What does it look like? Im celebrating!

She glanced around. Youre alone again? Dont you have any friends?

He clicked his tongue. Even on a holiday you cant be pleasant! I was only passing throughgoing from one party to
the nextwhen I saw this one going on. I thought Id stop by for a drink and then I saw youmy only friendwho
still hasnt told me her name.

She rolled her eyes. Going from one party to the next? My, how popular we are!

He laughed, and there was a level of bitterness to it that surprised her. More popular than Id like.

So terrible is the life of a noble!

He frowned. What makes you say Im a noble?

She surveyed him. Look at what youre wearing! Dyou see anyone around here who wears clothing of that quality?

He actually looked. I guess not.

Conversation stalled, and she grabbed another glass of wine from the table.

You look nice, he said suddenly, and she nearly spat out her drink.

Excuse me?

He blushed. I didnt mean to offend youits just that thats a very nice dress and you lookhealthy.

Healthy?

Is that another word for fat?

Well, youve got this nice blush on your face andthats a nice garland too.

Are you drunk?

Pardon me?
Celaena snorted and set down her glass of wine. Shouldnt you be going to your next party?

He groaned. Id rather notits at an estate which Im quite fond of, but unfortunately the guests wont be nearly
asenjoyable.

Oh, really? It must be so difficult being rich.

He pursed his lips, then said: You have a lot of spite towards the upper classes, dont you?

Only towards those who complain about it.

About what?

About being rich and noble!

I wasnt complaining. I was just saying that Id rather not go to the party!

She sighed in frustration and picked up her glass again, taking a sip. She waved as she saw Cindrillion and her
partner whirl by, but the young woman didnt see her.

Friends of yours? Galan asked, curious.

Yes, she replied, watching them disappear around the fire.

Dont you think its funny that we keep on running into each other like this?

No. I find it to be borderline irritating.

But not completely irritating, correct?

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Yes, she said cautiously.

He grinned. Whats your name?

Why dyou want to know?

Because Id like to know who fate keeps throwing at me!

All right, Ill tell you. She smiled with amusement.

Really?

Yes, but only the first letter of my name.

What good does that do? he exclaimed, clearly beginning to get annoyed. Maybe she should tell him

No, its too much fun. Besides, hes a noble and he looks like Dorian and you cant get involved like thisThough, he
could be a key source to getting into the castleHmm

She ran through all of the names that she had used in her life, and only one stood out.

Well, its one letter closer to finding it out, she replied. Celaena, Ari, Lithaen, ElentulyaiThe list went on and on.

Well?

Well, what?

Well, what does it start with?

Celaena took a deep breath. A, she said.

A?

Are you deaf? Yes, A!

But there are thousands of possibilities! he whined.

Better get cracking, she retorted, and finished the glass.

Ill take what I can get then, he smiled and then cocked his head to the side, listening to the music. Do you want to
dance?

She laughed in contempt. No.

Why not? he asked, sounding upset.

Because I dont know these dances.

He shook his head. Neither do I!

Then neither of us should be dancing.

But its Beltaen, thats what country-folk do!

And nobles dont?

He glared at her and ran a hand through his black hair. Thats not what I meantI meant that you, well, you

You think Im some country bumpkin? Did she really look that common?

No! Well, I dont know! You dont tell me anything about yourself!

We met in the woods and spoke for five minutes totalthats really enough to get to know me, she said dryly.

He sighed with frustration. Just stop being so difficult and dance with me.

Why?

Because you keep on staring over at the bonfires and watching everyone!

So?

So that means you want to dance as well!

Hardly.

Just give it a chanceif you dont like it, then well stop.

What about your party?

If you knew the company that I was going to be keeping, you wouldnt want to go either.

She couldnt help smiling. The music stopped suddenly, and the crowd clapped and cheered. A drum began rolling and
beating and Galan held out his hand to her. Come on, another ones beginningjust give it a chance.

She examined his handit wasnt smooth and delicate like most noblesit was strong and calloused and looked as if
he had actually worked in his life. Please? he asked again.
She took his hand and smirked. Just one dance. She had no idea how she was going to pull off the dancing part, but
from judging the other dancers, she could tell that they were also not exactly following any steps.

His hand was strong and cool around hers; and she glanced at his handsome face as they walked towards the bonfire.
He looked so much like Dorian

Mmm? he asked her, noticing her stare. She turned her eyes forward and shrugged. Nothing, she said, halting her
step as they reached the dancing ring.

Galan, wait! I cant do thisII dont know what Im doing, she admitted, suddenly feeling foolish.

He lifted her hand into the air and placed his spare one on her waist. Good, he grinned, we can look like idiots
together.

Without further warning, he began dancing, sending them twirling and bounding through the dancing crowd. Her feet
picked up the beat of the drum and the fiddle that whined along with it, and before she knew it, their dancing seemed
to make some sense. It felt as if she were flying through the airher skirt twirling and her hair lifting above as they
rose and fell to the beat.

She had never danced like this beforenever this wildly and with this kind of freedom. Her bare feet could barely
keep from moving, and she found that they were laughing with delight as the music took a hold of their bodies and
souls. They spun and bounced and moved around so quickly that the entire world became a blur, and Celaena let out
a whoop of delight as she let everything go

Crown Prince Galan Ashryver couldnt stop laughing as the dance ended and another began. She didnt even pause to
make a snide remark about how she had said one dance! It was as if she had become a completely different person
once the dance had startedthere was a need, a wild joy in her that had awokenand he would gladly take that over
her usual snappishness.

He actually recognized the song as a man began to sing the lyricsand the chorus wasnt very hard to remember
either, just a bunch of lai-lai-lai laiiiis again and again. But it didnt matter to herall that she seemed to want to do
was dance and dance, her small feet pounding the earth with the grace and strength of a young stag.

He watched her as they bounced from one step to the next, her blond hair flying upwards in a golden curtain, her face
lit with such happiness that for a moment, she was the most beautiful thing hed ever seen.

He had wandered over to this field after feeling the immense power that had been released from its bonfire. The
joyous ruckus that had exploded afterwards had only enhanced his curiosity. He was on his way over to the Baron
Ghents house, where he would meet yet another flock of women he had no interest in seeing. Especially the Baroness
du Tremaines two daughters. He hadnt expected to run into the young woman whom he had been puzzled over for
the past few days! What luck!

They moved quickly to the beat, sweat glistening on their brows. He was thankful that she didnt know who he was
(and that no one here recognized him), and with every passing minute, he was certain that if he told her his true
identity, she wouldnt mind.

In fact, shell probably be even more contemptuous just to annoy me.

Faster and faster they danced, until he was so dizzy that he thought they would fall down. She seemed to be a part of
the musicshe seemed to know every note before it was played

The music halted, dropping to a slower tempo, and all of the intensity that she had focused on their movements
suddenly shifted to him. They stared at each other, her eyes, so much like his own, burning with a light that startled
him. He felt drawn to her, as if she were a miniature source of magick and power that had been sucking energy into
itself for the past ten minutes, and had now released it. They stood where the circle had left them and as the beat
began to quicken, she moved them around in a spiral, her eyes never leaving his face.

He could do nothing but move with her, utterly transfixed by her beauty and feral grace. There was a spark of
something in her eyes that made her silent spell suddenly break, but then the tempo that had been building exploded
outward in a finale of grand scale, and they bounded off again, waltzing like the wind around the bonfire.
With a grand sweep, the second dance ended, and they found themselves pantingand far closer than they had
started.

Her face was so close to his that he could feel her breath upon him, and she smiled at hima smile of recognition and
fondness that made him flush. He hadnt expected it to be anything like this

He was suddenly all-too aware of having his hands around her waist, of the feeling of the body beneath, but she didnt
seem to mind. That was wonderful, she breathed, still smiling. I thought you said you couldnt dance.

He grinned and dropped his hands from her body. It turns out were both liars.

She chuckled and looked up at the starry sky overhead. Its getting late, Galan, she said, glancing at his face. You
should go to that party of yours

He straightened her garland for her, feeling the silky hair that it rested upon. They can wait, he replied. They
exchanged a look that made them both smile and blush.

She suddenly looked slightly uneasy and he stopped smiling, wishing that he knew her name. What is it? he asked
gently.

I she took a step back, scanning his face again. His sensesphysical and psychictold him that something had
deeply disturbed her. I have to go, she said, her eyes troubled.

Now? Where? He took a step towards her, closing the gap again. He didnt want her to leavethey had met three
times by chance, and though it might seem like fate, he might never find her again

Home, she said, her voice shaking.

Why? Why cant you stay? We were having such a good timeyou, I mean, you were, you seemed

I have to go. Now. she said, turning away.

But you cant! he said before he could stop himself, and grabbed onto her arm, halting and spinning her back to face
him. Weve only just begun the night!

She looked up into his face, her startlingly sad eyes staring deep into his own, and she raised a hand to touch his
face. Im sorry, she whispered, and gently removed her arm from his. But I cant

You cant what? he said impatiently, his heart pounding quickly.

I cant do this with you!

Do what? He dreaded her next answer, but he couldnt help himself. He had never met a woman like herhe had
never met anyone so captivating and beautiful and

Get involved, she said carefully, her eyes full of sudden determination.

There was an ache in his chest that alarmed him. He was a believer in love at first sight and falling in love fast and
hard, but thisThis wasnt what he had expected. He wasnt in love, but he felt some sort of connection between them
that made him believe that it could possibly be, though in the depths of his heart he was sure that it wasnt

Why not? Do you have someone else? he asked boldly.

A sad joy filled her eyes and stared with pity at him. To be honest, I dont know

How can you not know? Is there someone else or not? He hadnt meant to sound so cross, but he needed to know

She was silent for a moment, and the small amount of quiet happiness that he had seen in her eyes a moment before
faded away. No, there is no one else, she said quietly.
He knew that she was lyingthat there was someone out there who had made that sparkling joy burn inside of her for
a momentbut if she wasnt going to admit to it

Then why cant you get involved? He didnt even know why he was asking her thissave for the unexplainable link
that seemed to flow between them.

An icy look came into her eyes. I just cant, she said sharply and walked away. If the stars favor it, well meet
again soon, Galan, she called over her shoulder, her voice returning to the sassy tone that he had come to expect,
and walked into a crowd, disappearing into the night.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 11

Celaena Sardothien walked across the fire-lit field, grinding her teeth together. She had been having such a fantastic
time that she had forgotten about everythingand as they had spun around and around, Galans face had begun to
resemble that of Dorian DeHavilliards. The music had been a spella spell that had let her heart escape for a few
minutes, a spell that had warped her eyes into seeing what she wanted to see.

And, truth be told, she had wanted to be dancing with Dorian DeHavilliard. She had almost believed italmost bought
into the ache and the desire of her heart, and then she had remembered. She remembered that Dorian was thousands
of miles away, sitting in his palace, doing whatever he felt like doing. Then she remembered that the young man with
his hands around her waist was not Dorian DeHavilliardand that if she kept on acting in such a manner, he might
get the wrong impression.

It had disturbed her to see how straightforward he was being nowhow attached he was getting

But what disturbed her even more was the underlying connection she felt between them. She felt drawn to him; she
felt an innate feeling of fondness. It was after she had noticed that that she realized she had to get out of his
presence. The possibility that she could like a stranger in such a way, regardless of his possible connections to the
palace, scared her. She didnt believe in love at first sight, but in this land

We mate for life. Lucas words made her feel sick to her stomach. She didnt want to lead this young man astray
she didnt want him to get a false impression. There was a connection between herself and Galana connection that
she didnt understand. She tried to apply some logic to itshe tried to tell herself that it was Beltaen, a fertility
festival

But she wasnt sexually attracted to him! She justfelt as if she had known him her entire life, and that his presence
was comforting and soothing to her. And she didnt know why.

The more he had pushed to get her to stay, the more she had felt like running away at top speed. She couldnt have a
relationship with someone in Wendlyn, it just wasnt possible. She had tried to tell himand it had failed. He had
asked her the one question that she couldnt answer.

A kind of hateful sorrow had entered her heart as she told Galan that she wasnt involved with anyone else, because
she knew that despite all of the words and actions, she was not involved with Dorian DeHavilliard. She had left Galan
after thatand, out of pity, had given him a farewell that she hoped wouldnt break his heart.

Thankfully, he hadnt followed her.

She came to the bonfire at which Cindrillion and her partner were still dancing and waited until they swept past to
catch Cindrillions eye. She motioned that she was going back to the chateau, and Cindrillion raised her brows, but
nodded. Watching Cindrillion dance, Celaena felt content to stay at the celebration, but a shameful fear that Galan
might come looking for her made her eager to leave.

Jumping over these bonfires sounded a bit risky to her anyway.

She slept restlessly that nightawakening so often from haunted dreams that sleep became almost impossible to
hope for. She cursed herself a thousand times for going to that service in the woods and for dancing with Galan, and
each time she awoke with a jolt from a dream, she wished that the Faerie Queen had granted her a good nights rest
other thanwell, whatever she had subconsciously asked for.
She was so exhausted the next morning that she had fallen asleep while she washed the dishes from breakfast. She
had asked Leighanna if she could go upstairs and sleep for an hour or ten more, and the old woman had waved a
skillet at her, saying that if everyone else could wake up after last night, then so could she. Grumbling, Celaena had
finished her chores and helped Leighanna in the beginning stages of preparing lunch.

Now, just continue to stir it around and aroundand dont stop until its started to boil or else itll be ruined. Are you
sure that you can handle this?

If I can handle being Adarlans assassin, I dont think that cooking will be much of an issue.

Celaena nodded at the old woman and stirred the pot and the custard-like mess that lay inside. She liked bakingit
made her feel productive. Even if the only people who were going to eat it were the cows upstairs. She considered
dropping in some sort of poisonous plant, but then the idea that Leighanna would be blamed for their deaths popped
into her head, and the assassin had to be content with her imagination.

Celaena stirred the pot idly as the old woman disappeared into another part of the house, and looked over her
shoulder at the window behind her. It was a beautiful daya perfect day to start the harvest. She smiled to herself as
she thought about Luca and Stephaenya dancing together last night and wondered if they had done anything else.

She could still hear the wild music of last nights celebration, and began to hum to herself, swaying in place. Even
though it had caused a good amount of guilt and fear, Celaena had enjoyed dancingShe had felt as if she were in
another worldthat if she danced fast enough, all her troubles would spin away.

She remembered the one dance that she had shared with the Crown Prince at the Yulemas banquet before they had
become so drunk that the rest of the night became a blur, and blushed furiously as she recalled the feeling of his
strong hands on her waist.

Youre not stirring! Leighanna roared, and Celaena leapt upwards into the air, startled. She stirred the pot furiously,
but found that the custard had become so stiff that it was almost impossible.

Shit, IOh, damn, Im so sorry, I just she stammered.

Out, Leighanna said, pointing at the door.

I just completely Why couldnt she ever keep her mind on one task? Idiot!

OUT! Leighanna bellowed, and nudged Celaena out of the way with her large hips. Celaena stumbled backwards,
feeling immensely stupid and guilty.

Cant I do

No! Out! Now!

Celaena bit down on her lip. But I can

Ive got no use for help from someone that cant even stand upright! Go take the afternoon off! The old woman
scraped out the pan and poured in more ingredients with lightning-fast speed.

Celaena opened her mouth again, but Leighanna cut her off.

Now! Before I change my mind!

Thankful to have the day off, but feeling terribly guilty about setting Leighanna back half an hour, Celaena slunk over
the bottom half of the door and walked along the dirt road, hoping to find a relaxing place in the woods to take a nap.
A bed might have been the smarter choice for comfort, but after remembering the little bells that were prone to go off
at any time of the day, the assassin realized that the quiet of the forest might be safer for sleeping.

She looked in the already-disappearing fields for Luca, but found his brown hair to be nowhere in sight. Checking the
position of the sun, she assumed that he must have gone back to the chateau for lunch, but surely they would have
run into each other
She frowned, the prospect of sneering at him about her free day now gone.

Celaena walked along the dirt road, yawning to herself, and as she reached the turn into the forest, she heard a noise
that sounded all-too familiar.

Fighting.

Curious, Celaena continued to walk down the road past the path into the woods, and found a sight that made her
blood run cold.

Three boys were cruelly beating another boyone of them holding the lads hands behind his back as the other two
took turns kicking and punching.

This isnt supposed to happen here.

The three boys stopped as she approached, and she had her mind made up to tell them off when she saw the fourth
boythe victimraise his head.

Luca.

Her eyes went wide as she saw his bruised and bloody faceand he gave her a look so full of shame and humiliation
that she felt her stomach clench in anger as the ringleader of the group punched Luca in the gut, causing the young
man to lean forward and groan.

They expected her to move on, to ignore this.

Think again.

An icy rage raised the hair on her arms, and she approached them, her eyes darkening with each step she took. From
their clothing, Celaena could tell that they were of noble background. She didnt know what Luca had done to deserve
thisbut this was not a time for questions or pondering.

This isnt Adarlan. This isnt supposed to happen here. This wont happen here.

Stop it, she said to them, her voice going hollow.

The three boys paused and looked at her with such arrogant sneers that she wanted to rip off their faces. Go away,
the leader said condescendingly and slapped Luca across the face.

The fury that let loose in her body made her heart beat wildly. Leave him alone, she warned again, a snarl
appearing on her face.

The spiteful laugh that burst from the leaders lips made her quiver with rage. And who are you to tell me what to
do? I said go away, and if you refuse to follow orders He jerked his head at his friend, and Celaena watched in
growing bloodlust as the boy turned to deal with her.

She didnt know what the young man planned to do to her, but she didnt wait to find out. She heard another wound
be bestowed upon her friend and she lashed out at the approaching boy with all her wrath, dealing him a backhand
blow that broke his jaw in two and made him fly to the ground. He squirmed on the ground, trying to get up, but
Celaena pinned him to the earth with her foot, pressing upon the pressure point in his chest that could cause his heart
to burst if she pushed hard enough.

The two other boys stopped and looked up. She met their gaze with wicked malice, her blue eyes glittering.

Adarlans assassin had risen again.

You stupid bitch, the leader said with hate, but with an undercurrent of surprised fear. Celaena pushed down so hard
on the young mans chest that he screamed.
I said leave him alone, Celaena snarled.

Rising to her challenge, the leader pushed past his remaining friend and Luca, and drew his sword.

Who the hell does he think he is? Who is he to draw a sword against a strangeragainst a womanin such a
situation?

Celaena reached down to the young man trapped beneath her foot and drew his sword from his sheath.

I wont have this place turn into Adarlan. I wont have its people believe that such behavior is acceptable. I wont let it
turn into Adarlan.

She removed her foot from the youths chest and kicked him savagely in the ribs as a reminder not to come near her.

Not again.

You should know your place, wench, the youth smirked at her. When Im done with you, if your face is still intact, I
might like to have some fun

She was too exhausted, too on-edge, too busy with so many things to have time to put up with this sorry excuse for a
human being.

Are you going to attack me or is that sword just for decoration? she purred, itching for him to try to fight her. She
didnt know if she would kill himbut she wanted to hurt himvery badly.

Ill make you pay for being so insolent! he cried, and rushed at her, his sword held in a way that she knew that he
had had some training, but not enough real experience to be able to last five seconds against her.

But still

Celaena raised her sword above her head at the last second, blocking his blow as if it had been nothing more than a
feather.

Its time to play.

He bounced back a few feet, blinking at her steadfast skill and strength. A small smile played upon her lips as she
slowly lowered her arm.

Who the hell do you think you are? he howled, and charged again, foolishly leaving one half of his body exposed as
he focused on his sword alone. Frozen rage surged through her veins as she deflected his blow and kicked his open
side, sending him scrambling into the dirt.

She looked at Luca, whose arms were still held by the other boy, and felt her anger renew itself. No one deserved to
be treated like that.

It was her turn to attack.

Celaena Sardothiens blade crashed violently into the barely-ready one of the leader, and, taking the offensive, she
dealt him blow after blow, the blade flying through the air so quickly that the youth could barely tell where it was. But
she knewshe wasnt done playing.

What, she growled, her sword clanging in emphasis, could he, crash, have ever, a whine of metal against metal,
done to you, she caught the boys blade against her own and they fought for the offensive, to make you do that to
him? The last word came out as a bellow of fury, and she hurled herself into their struggle for dominance, knocking
the youth and his blade into the ground. His back was to her and he looked to be having trouble getting up. Good.

She took the five steps towards him and stood above him, looking down without pity. Youre disgusting, she snarled.
I hope that you
Before she could finish, the youth had turned around with a yell and thrown a handful of dirt into her face. She took a
few steps back, trying to get it out of her eyes, but it was too lateshe had to close themshe raised her sword in a
kind of hopeless defense, but the youth was already upon her and shoved her onto the ground. Temporarily blinded,
her eyes ached with the effort to dispel the dirt from her eyes.

That bastardIll rip his throat out when I

Her fingers grappled for her sword and as her fingers reached the smooth metal of the pommel, she felt a violent kick
knock it away.

You slutdid you honestly think that you could draw against methe heir of Baron Ghents estateand get away
with it?

By this time, she had blinked away a lot of the earth that was blinding her. His words reminded her of her duel with
Kaltainof the reckless hatred and pain

Celaena raised her now-clear eyes and saw Luca ten feet away from her, his head hung with shameful resignation.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

CHOICE IS THE ESSENCE OF OUR CHARACTERS!

With a spite-filled laugh, the youth raised his sword. Why did such mindless hate and ill-will exist in the world? She
saw Luca, broken and miserable, victim to a rich boys senseless wrath. With a scream of defiance, Celaena leapt
forward as if to take down the youth with her bare hands.

and her choice will save or damn us all.

And then it happened.

It felt as if something exploded within her chestsomething powerful and consuming. She froze mid-leap, her mouth
and eyes wide open with shock at the familiar feeling that was coursing through her veins. There was a blue light that
seemed to be erupting from her breasta blue light that she remembered in the depths of her dreams and
nightmares. She dropped down to her knees. She had felt this feeling last nightwhen the dancers had summoned
the magickshe had felt it dancingshe had felt it all during her childhood.

It raced through her veins, tingling and burning and aching, and she relished in it. It was so consuming, so
pleasurable, so powerful

With a violent surge, it broke through her body like a wave, so strong and overwhelming that her body arched so far
back that her hair touched the ground, blue light emitting from her chest like a blazing sun. Her eyes shut, Celaena
allowed the magick that she had repressed for almost twenty years to explode into life again, every fiber of her being
aching and basking in pleasure as it took back what she had conquered long ago.

She felt the changes happen that had happened so many times during childhood tantrumsher fingernails grew long
and sharp, her senses of the environment were so heightened that she could hear the wind singing in the grass, and
her ears

She heard several intakes of breath as her ears honed into broken archesthe hidden physical characteristics she had
inherited from her great-grandmother, the physical characteristics of the Fae.

It felt so goodit felt so powerful and refreshing

and I dont mean by hand

The song of the magick seduced her, and with another eruption of power, it threw her forward onto her hands and
knees, the light sucked back into her body. She slowly opened her eyes, and upon seeing the fancy leather boot of the
youth, all of her hate returned, which, when mixed with magick, was a terrible combination.

Celaena raised herself up, standing so tall and imposing that the young man dropped his sword in fright.
From where she stood, she could hear Lucas heart beating and his raspy breathing. This little bastard had done that
to himto her friend. Luca, who had welcomed her and joked around with her and who would have to face
Stephaenya and explain to herfilled with shamewhat had happened

Her eyes burned with power and rage, and with a scream that sent birds into flight, Celaena shot forward, and
grabbed him by the shoulders, throwing him into a tree. She growled into his face, displaying sharp canines, as she
pushed him harder into the wood, the bark behind him groaning and cracking with the force.

Not like Adarlan. Not now. Not ever.

She slammed him into the tree again, her mouth so close to his neck that he whimpered in fear.

If you come near him again, she snarled, Ill rip your damned throat out.

She wanted to do it right nowshe wanted to kill him, but with a sudden jolt, she realized that it wouldnt be the
wisest thing to do. It would incriminate her and Luca and

Celaena threw the youth the ground, repulsed.

The boy whom she had hit earlier had gotten himself up and hurried over to pull the terrified youth to his feet. The
one holding Luca dropped him immediately, and, exchanging looks with his other two companions, turned on their
heels and ran as fast as their finely-clothed feet could carry them.

Celaena watched them run, magick and hate still coursing through her veins, and then turned to Luca, who was trying
to raise himself up without success.

She crossed the space to him in double the time it would have normally taken her, and knelt down beside him. Dont
move, she said, her own voice sounding strange in her ears, You might have something broken.

Luca looked at her, and she smelled an undercurrent of fear. Youyoure Fae, he whispered, and she could sense
his desire to be a bit further away from her. His fear of her suddenly made Celaenas anger subside, and her features
softened, her ears going round and her fingernails decreasing back into short stubs.

But instead of the stability that she had hoped to find, Celaena found that she was a wreck. Her legs were shaking so
badly that when she tried to stand up, she could hardly manage it.

Magick.

II still have it.

She remembered the duel with Jodra Nustrom and the wind that had swept throughshe had always assumed that it
had been something supernatural, something to do with Anuksun, but now

Everything seemed to turn into confusion. Her body felt weak and tired and her mind was reeling. Her senses back to
normal, she suddenly remembered how silent the world must be to humanseven to her, Adarlans assassin.

Celaena grasped onto a tree, temporarily forgetting Luca. How could she take care of him if she couldnt even take
care of herself? She leaned her head against the cool wood, gasping for the breath that seemed to have fled her
lungs.

She was one-eighth Fae. But that one-eighth had been enough. She was a throwback to the power of her great-
grandmotherand even seventeen years of keeping that secret hidden and repressed under lock and key hadnt been
enough to control it from coming back.

After all, Wendlyn was now the only place on earth that the Fae dwelled in. Why shouldnt the magick in her veins
hear the call of the earth and its people? Her heart was beating so fast that it hurt. She had spent her pre-pubescent
and adolescent years forgetting and training against the magickand because it hadnt been allowed to appear in its
natural form, it had made her the best assassin in the world.
But now that she wasnt killingnow that she wasnt in the mines or doing one skill again and againBecause that
service had made her mind and heart feel so weak

Elentulyai? Luca had managed to get himself up, and had walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She
turned her eyes to his face and found only compassion and worry, and upon seeing his wounds again, she realized
what he had been through as well. She seemed to absorb his strengthand with a ragged sigh, she straightened and
released the tree.

If her past had waited seventeen years to catch up to her, it could wait another day.

Why did they do that to you? she asked quietly as they began to slowly walk back to the chateau, each absorbed in
their own personal experience of the last ten minutes.

Luca looked at the ground and wiped away the stream of blood that flowed from his split lip. Because I signed up for
the contest, he said bitterly.

What contest?

He sighed. A jousting contestfor amateursfor squires and those whod just like a damn chance to prove
themselves.

Pity filled her eyes. He had really been serious when he said that he wanted to be a knight. And he had suffered for
trying to make his dream come true. I should have killed that boy when I had the chance.

Why would they care if you

Because Im Ghents bastard son and Brenns his heir! Luca exploded, his voice wringing with pain, and Celaena felt
sick with anger and pity.

They Luca began and stopped, his voice cracking with shame. They think that Im not worthy enough to enter the
contestand Brennhehe dared to call Stephaenya a--

He violently wiped away the tears the spilled onto his face, wincing as he touched the black eye that was beginning to
appear in angry shades of purple and red and blue.

I hate them, he snarled viciously, breathing hard.

Celaena couldnt believe her earsLuca was the bastard son of a noble? So that boy who had been leading the other
two against himhe was Lucas half-brother? She felt her temper bubbling again and the familiar swell of soul that
came before her magick rose to the surface. She couldnt let it happen againshe couldnt let it come freeShe
pushed it down, and put an icy seal over her emotions in order to keep the power from breaking through once more.
She recoiled into her mind, beginning anew the desperate struggle that she had fought so many years before.

Luca looked at her, realizing that he had told her the very thing of which he was most ashamed, and hoped for some
kind of an answer, but Celaena was already lost in thought. He tried asking her some questions about her magick
about the physical change he had just witnessed, but she had been silent, her eyes staring off into the distance. By
the time they reached the chateau and Luca departed to the barn to clean himself off, the young man was assured
that she was just as ashamed of his past as he was.

He hadnt planned on telling her that he was a bastard because of this kind of reaction. He had hoped that if she ever
found out, she would have reacted as Stephaenya, Cindrillion, and Leighanna hadwith understandingbut her
silence now proved to him that his hopes had been misplaced.

Celaena sat down numbly at the kitchen table, finding Leighanna and Stephaenya hurrying to finish lunch. They didnt
even notice her until they had paused for a moment to find the saltshakers, and then a worried pause filled the room.

Elentulyai? The old woman asked. Is something wrong?

Celaena raised her eyes to her face, and the old woman saw something in them that she hadnt seen beforeher eyes
were different, they were changed: startlingly brighter, but writhing with some sort of inner-battle, the remnants of
her magickal outburst lingering in the golden circles that lined her pupils.

Why do they hate him? she asked, turning her gaze to Stephaenya. The young woman set down the tray she was
carrying and rushed over to the table.

Whatd they do to him? her voice was stressed and worried, and she grasped Celaenas arm. The Barons boys?
From Ghents estate, correct? Did they hurt him again? You must tell me!

Celaenas eyes filled with pity. I found them in midst of a beating.

Is he all right? Stephaenya said, squeezing her arm in fear. They broke his arm the last time and he

Hehes finejust a bit bruised and battered, I stopped them before they could--

Is he all right?

What? Celaena had just answered her question! She had managed to put a cover over her magickand all that
remained of her encounter was a shaking numbness.

What did he say? Did he do anything afterwards?

To be frank, she hadnt noticedshe had been so busy trying to get herself back under control that she hadnt
bothered to make sure he was all right mentally. But if he had been truly upset, she would have noticed. Hes fine,
she said again, and Stephaenya sighed with relief, letting go of her arm as she took a seat at the table, clearly shaken
by the news. The young woman covered her face with her hands, then ran them through her brown hair, her eyes full
of worry.

Is something wrong?

I hate those boys, Stephaenya said, her voice trembling, and Leighanna silently picked up her tray, letting the two
women have some space to talk.

All his life theyve harassed and humiliated himall his life, without mercy. Because hes Ghents bastard son,
because he was born before Brenn, because if Ghent recognized Luca, itd mean that hed get the estate and Brenn
wouldnt. Theyre the ones who made him work here, away from his father, they tortured him and humiliated him, and
he came here when he was nine to escape themBut still, but still they wont leave him alone! Stephaenya shook
and covered her face with her hands again.

Celaena compassionately put a hand on her shoulder. How could things possibly be this bad in Wendlyn? How could
the nobles have already forgotten that they were there to protect the majority of the population? How could they
allow for someone like Luca to be treated in such a manner?

Stephaenya dropped her hands and looked at her with a ferocity that startled Celaena enough for her to withdraw her
hand from her shoulder.

He entered the tournament, didnt he? He entered that damned tournament!

Celaena didnt know what to saydid he and Stephaenya have a disagreement about the jousting contest? Was she
supposed to know that he entered it?

IIm not sure. I think so, she said.

Stephaenya slammed her fist into the table, and Celaena was touched by the fear and anger she felt on behalf of her
beloved. I told him not toI told him that theyd attack him for it, but he went and did it anywayEven after all
these years, hes still trying to prove himself to themto his bastard of a father!

Butwouldnt you prefer that to bowed acceptance? she asked boldly.

Id prefer him to be alive!

Celaena sighed, truly feeling the pain of the two young people, and told Stephaenya to calm herself. Not waiting for
the young woman to give her an explosive response, she left the kitchen and went upstairs to take a desperately
needed escapist nap.

Dorian DeHavilliard stepped down from the witness stand of the courtroom, glaring openly at the shivering wreck of a
woman that was Kaltain Rompier. He had just made his testimonytalking freely about the remains of Anuksun
Ytger, about Kaltains behavior, about her passionate accidental confession during the duels to hiring Graev. Chaol
had testified minutes earlier, and Dorian was certain that, despite the pleas of Duke Perringtonn and Kaltains father,
the bitch was going to hang. Anuksuns parents were present, their faces filled with an icy fury. He would have been
shaking as badly as Kaltain if he had been on the receiving end of their wrath.

He took a seat beside Chaol, and smiled grimly at his friend. Since discovering Dorians powers, Chaol had been
surprisingly supportive. In fact, he had told the Crown Prince that he was relieved that it was magickit somehow
explained some of his bizarre behavior and answered several of his questions. True, he had almost fainted when
Dorian first explained the truth, but his friend then displayed a loyalty that made Dorian ashamed for even considering
that he might not be able to trust Chaol. Chaol had sworn to help Dorian find a way to deal with and control his
magick, and to keep it a secret from his father. He was truly a great friendand Dorian knew that he would never be
able to repay him for the support and understanding he had given him.

The jurymade up of the kings councilmen and Anuksuns parentswent into a back room for several minutes.
Dorian stroked his sword as he stared at the back of Kaltains head, watching Duke Perringtonn try his best to comfort
the woman. She would diea quick and hardly painful death for all of the pain she had caused.

Dorian stiffened in his seat.

She didnt deserve that.

As Celaena had said, she didnt deserve a death like that. She deserved to live a life full of misery, every second
remembering the pain she had inflicted on others.

Dorian cocked his head to the side as a smile spread itself across her face.

He had a better idea.

The jury came out and sat themselves down again, the High Juror standing to declare the verdict. Those in the
courtroom rose to their feet, and Dorian readied himself. Kaltain whimpered and clutched Perringtonn for support.

Kaltain Rompier, this courtroom and the kingdom of Adarlan find you to be guilty of the death of Princess Anuksun
Ytger. Kaltain let out a sob. You are hereby sentenced to death at the gallows, unless a better option should present
itself.

Dorian stepped forward, knowing that his time to speak was now. The one thing he truly loved about the court system
in Adarlan was that a death sentence could be changed to something of its equivalent. That was how Celaena
Sardothien had escaped the gallowshis father had suggested, after her sentence had been made, that she go to the
mines to work off her sentencemeaning, to die a slow and painful death.

I have a better suggestion, the Crown Prince of Adarlan spoke out across the room, and all heads turned to look at
him. Kaltain let out a muffled cry of delight, but he ignored her. Chaol raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

The court recognizes Crown Prince Dorian DeHavilliard. Speak, your highness, the High Juror said, and Dorian
smiled at Anuksuns parents reassuringly.

After knowing Kaltain for a long time, Ive come to discover several things about her. But the thing of main
importance, which will apply to the sentence I am suggesting, is a matter of love. Kaltain turned her ruined face to
stare at Dorian, her eyes hopeful, but he only gave her a sneer. For many years now, Ive noticed the blooming
romance between Kaltain Rompier and Duke Perringtonn.

He stepped up to the Jurors bench and said quietly so that only they could hear: Duke Perringtonn believes Kaltain
to be in love with him, but she hates him more than she hates Celaena Sardothien, which is saying quite a lot. She
would prefer death to marrying him, so I can assure you, Jurors, that if you were to order their marriageand her
confinement to Perringtonns farthest estatethat she would be more miserable than she would be hanging from a
noose. He looked at Anuksuns parents, who didnt look too sure of his plan. Trust metrust me on my friendship
with your daughterthat Kaltain will live every day of her life in agony. Shell have no one to talk to except for
Perringtonn, and will have only her memories for comfort when hes not with herwhich will be quite often, I
suspect.

The jurors exchanged glances, and left the room again to discuss his proposal. The room seated itself with a rustle of
clothing and wood.

There was a murmur through the room, each person asking the person beside them if they had heard what Dorian
had said, but none of them knew. A smug expression on his face, Dorian took a seat beside Chaol and motioned to
him to wait a moment before asking. In a moment, the High Juror called Duke Perringtonn into their room, where
Dorian was sure they were asking him if he would take Kaltain into his household as his wife, and a moment later, the
Duke emerged, looking relieved, but confused.

When the jury filed into their seats again, they remained standing, and the courtroom rose to its feet again.

Kaltain Rompier, your sentence has been movedfrom one of death to one of a lifetime. With Duke Perringtonns
consent, you are to marry tonightand then you are to be escorted to his estate in the mountains of Ruhnn, on the
far border of Finntierland, where you are to live out the remainder of your life in confined exile, your only companions
are to be one servant and Duke Perringtonn, when his duty does not demand that he be there. Should you fail to
follow this sentence, you will be removed from Perringtonns house and into the salt mines of Endovier, where you will
work from dawn to dusk every day. The court is dismissed.

Kaltain gave a scream and sunk to the ground, beginning a fit of hysterics. Several guards came forward and carried
her out, Duke Perringtonn trailing behind. Dorian and Chaol exchanged glances.

You really think that this was better than hanging? Chaol asked, and they headed towards the door to leave.

Dorian grinned. Im certain that having Duke Perringtonn mount you is a pain far worse than death.

Chaol winced, then laughed. Without Kaltain Rompier to worry about, things suddenly seemed a lot better.

They reached the doorway and a hand stuck out to halt him in his tracks. Dorian looked to his right and saw the man
that he had wanted, yet dreaded to see.

The Minister of Trasien.

Prince, the minister said, and Dorian nodded his head in recognition.

Minister, he said.

Care for a walk? There are a few things which Id like to discuss with you, if your schedule allows for it.

Dorian looked at Chaol and then back at the minister. Had they planned something? Since Chaol had explained the
political stirrings in the palace, Dorian hadnt been able to keep his mind off of the possible things that this man could
be planning. He knew that the minister had worked for the royal family of Trasien, but very little was known about
what he had done in the years between the death of Trasiens king and when he had appeared in the political world
ten years ago. It was unusual for his father to appoint a man who was not completely understood and under his
control, but the man had a cunning and charisma that made the possibility of saying no, seem impossible.

Go ahead, Minister, Dorian DeHavilliard said, and the three of them turned away from the crowd and headed down
an empty corridor, a feeling of excitement at the prospect that he was disobeying his father making the hair on his
arms stand on-end. Was he really ready for this? Was this what he wanted? This was his father, his king

But it was also my father who sent out spies to watch me. It was also my father whowho enslaved all of those
peasants that Celaena said had worked beside her. Hetheres something wrong in a government that allows for
things like that to go on unchecked and unchallenged. But can I be the person to voice that discontentment? Do I
dare? I know what the consequences would beand am I a fool for believing in something that could never be
accomplished? Would my father kill me as well?
With these times, young prince, the Minister of Trasien began, Im afraid that I cannot offer you the comfort of my
rooms to have such a discussion in. Unless we were to find a chamber hidden from spying eyes, I also regret to tell
you that our conversation today will have to be brief and rather cryptic.

Dorian nodded, and looked around to see who could be listening. There was no one. He didnt know what the Minister
of Trasien had in mindwould he kill his father? Or would it be some sort of bloodless revolution?

Ha! Bloodless revolution in Adarlan? Pigs would sooner spread wings and fly than my father would let his power
change without a gruesome fight.

The feeling of unease began to increase in his gut, and the minister spoke again.

Youve got something of value that I believe would be useful to meto Adarlan. True, its already in use by your
father, but you are the key controller of such a treasure.

The Crown Prince nodded again, frowning, knowing of whom he spoke. Why was Celaena so useful to this man? What
role did she have to play other than to do the dirty work of Adarlans politicians? He didnt want her to be a pawn
anymore. He was tired of it, and, judging by the things she had said to him in the depths of her sorrow and despair,
so was she.

Im afraid that after my fathers done using it, mytreasure will be retired. For good.

The minister shook his head. You misinterpret the things that Im asking of you, which shows me that you do not
know as much as I had hopedabout this situation, about your jewel.

Dorian raised an eyebrow.

But, the Minister of Trasien smiled, and stopped in front of a large staircase, I was prepared for this, and will gladly
go over the details of the information Ive given your highness at a more convenient time. He shook hands with
Dorian, subtly handing him a folded piece of paper. Dorian smoothly pocketed it before anyone could see, and
returned the smile of the minister.

It has been nice walking with you, Crown Prince, the minister said and bowed.

Likewise, said Dorian, itching to read what the minister had written. May we walk together again sometime in the
near future.

Chaol and the man bowed to each other in farewell, and the two young men walked at a brisk pace to his chambers,
eager, yet slightly nervous to unfold the secret information that had just been given into their keeping.

Celaena Sardothien sat up in bed, her arms drawn around her knees, staring out the small sliver of a window at the
night sky, noticing that the moon was missing from it.

Cindrillion slept peacefully in the next bed, a small smile upon her lips as she dreamed of a better life.

Celaena had slept for the entire afternoon and evening, awakening only an hour ago to darkness and silence. Unable
to go back to sleep, she had taken the opportunity to face some of her earlier thoughts, but only found one willing to
come to mind.

Luca.

She had thought that they were so happy herethat the only things that worried them were Cindrillion and a possible
crop failureand for her ignorance and assumptions, she was ashamed. She knew that he would probably suffer from
entering that contest, and would probably not even make it beyond the first round. His determination inspired and
humbled her.

Hell lose and those boys will never let him hear the end of it

Blessed are those with the power of choice who choose to use it, and damned are those who choose to throw it
away!
Celaena raised her head, the wheels of her mind turning at rapid speed. Could she?

After all, what was a lance but another weapon? She had handled every weapon known to mankind, and while she
wasnt a knight, who was to say that she couldnt learn how to use one?

damned are those who choose to throw it away!

Celaena was out of the room and going down the stairs before she could take another breath. She stalked through the
kitchen and into the barn, not noticing the several pairs of shiny eyes that watched her, and began to look around
furiously for the things that she would need. There was a clearing, a little space in the woods not too far off where she
could do this

Grabbing what she could carry and laying out the things that she would bring back with her when she returned,
Celaena Sardothien then left the barn and began to work deep into the night

Get up, she commanded, and Luca opened an eye.

What? he groaned, and rolled over, exposing his black eye.

Get up, weve got work to do.

Its not even dawn, he grumbled, and pulled his blanket over his head.

And Ive been up since midnight, so its damn time that you got yourself out of bed.

What for? he said, beginning to awaken a bit more. He looked around his sparsely decorated room and then at her.
What the hell are you doing here?

She grinned at him. I need you to get me a horse.

I still dont understand why this couldnt have waited until dawn, Luca complained, leading the horse behind him as
they followed after her into the still-dark woods.

They came to a clearing and she smiled proudly at him, admiring her handiwork and genius for the hundredth time
that day. Because you wont have time to practice at dawn.

Practice wh he said, and then stopped as he saw the contraption that lay in the middle of the clearing. What
what is that?

Celaena looked at her creation and grinned again. Your training.

For what? he asked dumbly, and she hissed through her teeth.

For your jousting contest! she said impatiently. She had been up all night, planning, calculating, stealing, and
buildingshe had never really built anything like this, but once she had found the rope, wood, and nails, it had all
come together as if by magick. Some deep section of her mind had feared that it was her magick that held it all
together, but the rest of her ego refused to believe anything except the fact that she had built this contraption with
her bare hands and cunning.

Luca hid his delight and gratitude, and examined the bizarrely designed and constructed thing, raising an eyebrow.
Why is the clothing dummy wearing a dress?

He didnt dare to bring up what he had discovered yesterdayand he planned to keep it to himself until she spoke of
it. He knew that there was a reason why she hadnt told anyone, and he suspected that her secret bloodline had
probably been hidden in Adarlan as wellmagick was a crime there, and it would have meant her life if someone had
found out about it. He knew that there were things in her pastterrible thingsthat had scarred her more than she
liked to admit, and he was content not to stir up bad memories for her after what she had risked in order to save him.

She snarled at him. Because I couldnt find any male clothes for it to wear! She tossed her hair behind her shoulder.
Now, well eventually have to put some armor on itand you, but for nowGet on that horse.
But I havent got a lance!

Stop complaining and be a bit more grateful. I had to sneak into that wretched neighboring estate and steal one from
their barn. No doubt, some squire will have hell to pay in the morning, but for you, my darling boy, the world.

Youre mad, he said, but pulled the horse forward so he could mount it. How will this thing work, anyway?

Celaena frowned. Well, see that rope wrapped around the dummy? I run forward as fast as I can with it, causing it to
move, and you charge at it, and then you hit itor something.

It looks as if its about to collapse.

I wasnt born a carpenter, you know.

Thats exactly why Im worried! The branch that you have it using for a lance looks like it could skewer me!

Celaena tossed something at him, and he caught it, almost dropping it to the ground. Whats this? A bag of grain? Is
this supposed to protect me?

She huffed and glared at him. Its your armor for now. See the ropes around it? Just tie those around you and itll
stay on. Dont worryits thick enough so that youll only feel a bit of pressure if the dummys lance hits you. I
checked a thousand times to make sure its safe, and have the bruises from the early trials to prove it. I tried to take
the armor from Ghents house, but it was too heavy to bring in one shift and I figured that too many missing supplies
could bring up some trouble for us. Now, this first time, just go at the dummy and do whatever youve been taught to
do in the past. I want to see how much you know.

Luca fastened the sack of grain around his torso, feeling as if he were in a dream. Celaena handed him the lance and
then bounded over to the dummy, grabbing onto the rope that would cause it to move. Luca weighed the lance in his
hands, surprised at how heavy it was.

Ready? she called to him from the other end of the clearing.

Why are you doing this? he asked her, and Celaena halted, smiling slightly.

Wouldnt you? was all she said before she charged forward, the dummy rattling and groaning as it began to move
along the wooden bar that divided the clearing and provided a run-down example of a jousting field. Luca grinned,
relieved and immensely grateful for her selfless kindness, and kicked the horse into action, surging forward as he
raised his lance for battle.

The general who was in charge of the hidden camp at Peregrinno suppressed a laugh of delight. Last nightthe first
moonless night out of twohad been an overwhelming success. Using the cover of pure darkness, more than a
thousand soldiers had come overswimming or in small boatsand there hadnt been any complications. Tomorrow
night would be the sameand with the overcast sky that the dawn was revealing, perhaps the fleet would risk even
more soldiers. It was now only a matter of timeonly a matter of waiting and remaining hidden from the enemy.

And then all of Wendlyn would be theirs for the taking.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 12

"Again," Celaena panted as Luca reared his horse to a stop.

The young man wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at her incredulously. "But thats the fifteenth pass! Im
about to fall off the horse!"

She retied her hair ribbon and picked up the piece of rope she used to charge the dummy across the clearing. "And
you think Im not tired? Im the one doing all of the damn running!"

"Well, if you had made a better machine, perhaps you wouldnt have to run!"
"You ungrateful wretch! Oh, no--dont you dare put down that lance!" She watched in rising anger as he began to
untie his armor. "Keep that on!" she barked. "Youre going again! Youre not holding your lance strongly enough to
survive a"

"Its practically past breakfastIve got to get to work." He dismounted the horse and propped up his lance and armor
against a tree before removing the sweat from his face on his shoulder.

She threw down the rope. "I expect you back here as soon as you get off of work this afternoon!"

His mouth popped open in dismay. "Its the harvest, gods above! Im not superhuman, you know!"

She began to object, but he cut in, as frustrated as she was. "I dont have a magickal reserve to rely on like you do
Im just a mere mortal."

Celaena stopped stalking towards him, her heart skipping a beat. In the past week, neither of them had spoken of her
magickal encounter. She had hoped to forgetas she had seventeen years ago, but now that the ancient wound had
been reopened, things were beginning to come back to herthings that refused to lay dormant once more.She
remembered the lessons and skills that had been taught to her as a child, and she felt their threads of power
unraveling in her mind, but she dared not touch them.

Luca eyed her cautiously. "I didnt mean toI mean, it just sort of"

"I know," she interjected coldly.

He was almost out of the clearing by now, but he suddenly stopped and turned to her. "Its nothing to be ashamed of,
you know," he said tentatively. "Id personally like to have something like yourtalents."

She raised her eyebrows dryly. "The day youre not ashamed of your heritage, Ill cease to beashamed of mine."

"Its not exactly the same thing."

"Growing up in Adarlan, its actually worse."

"Youre in Wendlyn now."

She twirled her hair around her finger carelessly. Not for long

"Youre going to be late for work, Luca."

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. "I know it must be hard for you, but if you"

"Work."

Catching her drift, Luca shot her a reproachful glance, but shut his mouth before waving good-bye as he left the
clearing.

Suddenly realizing how tired she was, Celaena moved over to a nearby fallen tree trunk and collapsed down upon it. A
second later, she sorely regretted doing so, for she yelped and leapt upward in pain as she felt a hard jab in her
behind from an unforgiving lump in the wood. Rubbing the aching spot, she grumbled as she moved away, deciding to
seat herself in a nearby nest of large roots at the base of a tree. Celaena leaned her head back against the cool bark
of the trunk, closing her eyes.

Aside from the harvest beginning, nothing exciting had happened in the past week. She had begun to listen to the
Baronesss conversations with her daughters at the dinner table, waiting for any clue of the political happenings of the
country, but she discovered that all they truly cared about were clothes and the Crown Prince. She had picked the
wrong householdthese women could care less about the war with Adarlan, and any news of it simply passed by the
chateau.

Celaena had taken her first trip into the nearby village after a moment of panic that came as a result of the possibility
that she had been neglecting a part of her mission here, and might have missed something crucial. But she found that
the only news to report was that the Crown Prince was on a bachelor tour of the country, particularly their little
region. It seemed that all anyone cared about was the possibility of the prince finding a wife.

She didnt know quite how she was going to get into the palace and do her assigned tasksecurity was high, and
without an official pass or noble to bring you in, no strangers were permitted. Her meetings with Adarlans counselors
had prepared her for a situation in which shed be working in the palace. They hadnt expected her to fail to get a job
there.

But it wasnt her fault! The booth at the service fair had closed so quickly, and she had been so desperate for a place
to stay, so overwhelmed by this country, that she had taken the job at the chateau without considering the nature of
information that a Baroness might contain in her house.

Which is absolutely nothing.

She yawned and rubbed her face with her hands. If the Baroness didnt start going to the capital more often, shed
have to find another place to work. She couldnt dally here for four months and then go back to Adarlan empty-
handed.

Celaena glanced at the lance and sack of grain lying against a nearby tree. You could leave if you wanted to. I mean,
these are just peopleits not like youre going to see them after you complete what you came here to doRight?

You idiot.

The air was suddenly too hot in the clearing, and Celaena stood up from her bed of roots. She was coated in a dirty
film of sweat, and her clothes were in desperate need of a washing. Sniffing herself, she found that her body was also
in desperate need of some cleaning. Not yet ready to return to the chateau, and not feeling up for bathing in the
company of dead animals, Celaena wandered off into the forest in search of an obliging pool.

The water was coldcolder than she expected for a climate like thisbut it was perfect for the situation. A small
waterfall cascaded down from a cluster of rocks that lined the east end of the pool, and it was such an isolated spot
that Celaena was certain that she would be interrupted by no one.

Even that meandering Galan.

Still, she looked around the forest and listened for any signs of someone approaching, and after making sure that she
was truly alone, she slipped out of her sweaty clothing. The bottom of the pool was lined with smooth rocks, and was
clear all the way across, save for the dark area where the waterfall lay. A small smile crept across her lips as she
walked into the water, feeling like a nymph or spirit of myth. The water was cool and refreshing against her hot skin,
and a wave of pleasure washed upon her body as she submerged herself.

She swam around the pond a few times, washing her body and hair with her hands, relishing in the relaxing
smoothness of the water. She stroked out to the waterfall and let its water pound down upon her head, secretly
hoping that it would beat out the memories that had been hounding her this past week. She had thrown herself into
her workat the chateau and with Lucaknowing that if she werent physically exhausted at the end of the day, her
thoughts would assault her as she lay in bed. It was a feeble attempt to forget what didnt want to be forgotten,
because shed often find that certain words or things could trigger a memory to life. But at least she was trying to
eliminate themat least an effort was being made on her part.

She swam down as far as she could in the water, enjoying the muffled sound of the waterfall and the feeling of the
bubbles that rose up to tickle her skin.

But do I really want to forget everything again?

Celaena shot up to the surface of the water, uncomfortable with the silence of the deep, and let her thoughts be
muted by the howling of the waterfall.

When she was satisfied that she was clean enough, she returned to where she had left her clothes and pulled them
into the water with her, scrubbing them on the rocks that lined the bottom. Spotting a sunlit boulder that lay on the
pools edge, Celaena spread them out to dry, hoping that they wouldnt be too wet by the time she decided to leave.
That was when the falcon landed.
At first she was so startled that she threw herself backwards into the water, submerging her body until only her head
was above the smooth surface. Her face flushed when she realized that it was only a bird, and she stood up, glaring at
it.

To her surprise, it was glaring back at her.

She had never seen a bird look angry, but this one did. Celaena felt herself retreating back into the pool. Men and
faeries she could deal with, but raging animals were a bit alarming to her. Casting glances around to make sure that
some dead fish or animal wasnt floating in the water, the assassin watched as the falcon cocked its head to the side
and narrowed its dark eyes.

It was too alarmingly humanit was toointelligent. Celaena put an arm across her bare breasts and a surge of
humiliation and anger went through her. She was being modest in front of a bird.

She cleared her throat loudly and glared at the bird again. When it only puffed its feathers and gave her a cold look,
she raised her eyebrows and snapped, "Dyou mind? Go glare at someone else!"

This was probably the wrong thing to say to an animal in this forest, given that Cindrillion had a friendship with a stag
and that most things that seemed intelligent probably were.

Even so! If its smart enough to understand me, its smart enough to understand not to watch me while Im bathing!

She snorted as she remembered the bath she had taken last fall in the officials building of the salt mines of Endovier
when Chaol had left the room only after she had begun to undress in front of him.

Modest idiot.

She smiled again, remembering the she-men that had bathed her in that wretched place. It had been one of the most
painful experiences of her life.

The falcon moved from one foot to the other, the sunlight catching in its silver feathers, and then let out a screech at
her that made her drop down to her eyes in the water. She watched it perch atop her clothes-covered boulder, and in
a burst of frustration at her own silly fear of the animal, she stood up, one hand still covering her chest, and splashed
a great wave at it. It reared up in flight, its wings beating the air as it gave her another icy look, and then flew off.
She smiled with satisfaction that the perverted thing was gone, but then a violent curse burst from her lips as Celaena
realized that the only down-side to her action was that her clothes were as wet as they had been minutes before.

Crawling up onto the large rock with reptilian ease, she squeezed the water out of her clothes again, and, feeling the
warm sun on her back, lay down beside them, deciding that a morning catnap would be delightful before a full day of
work.

"Excuse me."

Celaena awoke with a start, and with a cry, hurled herself off of the boulder and into the water before she could even
glimpse the man who the voice belonged to. She hadnt even heard him approaching! Her assassin skills were waning
indeed if she couldnt even detect the arrival of the only person in this part of the forest! Of course she had been
asleep, but it hadnt been a deep sleep of any kind, she had been able to hear the birds chirping and feel the sunlight
on her body and

What if there were more? How many would she have to defend herself against?

She looked and listened, but found that the only sign of human life was the man on the other side of the boulder.
"What the hell dyou want?" she snapped, swimming out to the deep end of the pond for better protection. Had he
done anything to her? How much had he seen?

The man climbed on top of the boulder, and Celaenas eyes widened. It wasnt a man at all.

She looked at his long silvery hair and youthful features, her eyes focusing on the two tattooed blue and green lines
that lay across the left side of the beginning of his high cheekbones. His eyes were such a startling crystal blue color
that it seemed as if they were two pieces of the sky itself, and his skin was almost as pale as his flowing hair. But it
was the two pointed ears that caught her eye and made a shudder pass through her body.
He was Fae.

She hadnt seen Faelive Fae in seventeen years. Where did they all live? This was beginning to be too muchthere
were too many aspects of her past life in this countryif they didnt stop springing up on her like this, she was bound
to have a breakdown of sortsor just simply go stark-raving mad.

But If he were here, than did that mean that her dream had been

"Youre not supposed to be here," he said coldly, and then looked down disapprovingly at her clothes.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he spoke first, his dazzling eyes gazing at the trees beyond her.
"Leave," he said bluntly.

Her awe faded at his rudeness. "Im not going to get out of this pool with you standing there," she snarled. The Fae
that she remembered had not been like this. Theyhehad treated her with respect and kindness and love

"Shall I toss your clothes in for you?" he asked icily.

"How about," she growled, her temper rising, "you get the hell off of that rock and give me some privacy and then Ill
leave your sacred pool."

He looked at her, and she sunk lower into the water, hoping that his far-seeing eyes didnt pick up any of the qualities
that she had come to be spending so much of her time concealing.

"Youve got an awful lot of nerve for a human."

"Youre awfully rude for a member of the Fae," she spat back. "Why should I leave this pool anyway? Does it belong to
you?"

He arrogantly tossed his shimmering curtain of hair behind his shoulders. "I am the guardian of this place. Leave."

She rolled her eyes at him. But he just cocked his head, and she bit down on her lip in surprise. It was just like the

"Youre that damned bird, arent you?" How could she have forgotten that fact about Fae? After knowing so much
about them, how could she have forgotten that all Fae had a secondan animalform?

He straightened up, his slender frame rising to its full height. "That is my second form, yes," was his next cold reply.

She couldnt resist. He deserved it. "For someone of yourstature, you picked something awfully small. Is it a
reflection of some concealed pa"

"I said leave, human."

She checked the position of the sun. She should be heading back to clean the dishes from breakfast anyway. "If you
give me some damned privacy, I will."

He gave her a weighing look, his eyes narrowing as cruelly as the falcons had before, and then said "Fine," before
disappearing over the other side of the boulder.

She quickly climbed upon the rock and grabbed her now-dry clothes, standing in a concealed cranny while she put
them on her sopping body. Celaena clambered over to the top of the rock and looked down to find the Fae-male
standing at the bottom, his back to her.

"There, are you content? Im leaving your precious pool." She wrung out her dripping hair and frowned.

Turning, he looked down at his long fingernails and then up at her. "Dont ever return here."
She hopped down from the bouldera ten-foot dropwith the ease of a mountain cat. "Youre a bit of a prick, arent
you?" she purred, her temper riled enough to make her bold enough to say such a thing. If this was what the Fae had
become, perhaps someone should remind them of the old ways

She eyed him up and down, taking in his foreign clothing and fit physique. He wore clothing that made him look like
someone from a mytha knee-length white toga and brown sandals with thongs that crossed up his calves. He had
an ornately crafted and jeweled belt that displayed his thin waist, and a beautifully embroidered gossamer cape that
his hair seemed to melt into.

He bristled at her comment and looked as if he wanted to slap her across the face. "Leave before I decide to punish
you for your impertinence."

A cold breeze brushed by her cheek, and the sun suddenly became hidden by clouds.

Celaena felt her stomach clench as she sensed a taste of magick in the air. She knew that any witty or snide
comments would probably make him even more pompous, and possibly dangerous. So, with an obscene gesture of
the hand, Celaena strode off into the woods, trying to banish the wonder and terror that his appearance had caused
within her heart. It didnt surprise her when, a minute later, a miniature thunderstorm erupted over her head and
soaked her straight through.

"Gods above dont just stand there, Elentulyai! Quickthose two pots and those three wooden spoons! And get me
that ladle!"

Celaena raised her eyebrows at the chaos that had erupted in the kitchen. It was after breakfast, but Stephaenya and
Leighanna were running around in a fury. Was there something wrong?

"THE POTS AND THE SPOONS!"

Celaena jumped into action and bolted to the kitchen table, reaching upward with her long arms to take down the
requested cooking ware. Putting the three spoons and the ladle in one of the pots, she moved to the sink to hand
them to Leighanna, who grabbed them, dumped the spoons and ladle on the counter, and filled with pumped water in
mere seconds. Stephaenya popped up behind the old woman and took the water-filled pots, and set them over the
hearth fire.

Leighanna furiously stirred three bowls of something and then pointed at a dish cabinet. "Five plates, five cups, you
know the rest," she ordered, and Celaena obeyed. "Leave the plates on the table here, but take the cups and the
silverware up to the dining room and set it properly. Dont get your" the old woman paused, getting a look at
Celaena.

"Why are you soaking wet? Has it been raining?"

Celaena frowned, annoyed that it had taken the two women so long to realize that she was dripping water all over the
floor. The little thunderstorm had chased her all the way back to the chateau. Rain had only fallen around her in a
five-foot circle, and she had practically lost her hearing due to the thunder that had been constantly booming in her
ears. She wouldnt be surprised if she fell ill from the damned little cloud.

Shaking her head at Leighanna to tell her not to bother asking, Celaena swore to herself to find that Fae-male and
teach him a thing or two about what it meant to be real Fae. Of course, her ideas about Fae-behavior were probably a
bit outdated, but they were immortaltheir ways didnt change very often.

"If youre not going to explain, GET UPSTAIRS!"

"But its not even lunch yet!" She objected, putting the silverware and goblets in her arms.

"Yes, but weve had a rather unexpected guest, so lunch has come a bit early today."

"Its only half-past ten! Whos here?"

"The princethe Crown Prince himself!" Stephaenya called from the fire, her face flushed. "Hes here and the
Baroness threatened to hang us all if we didnt give them a meal that the gods would find acceptable!"
The Crown Prince.

Celaenas grip on the tableware tightened. She could kill him now and get a third of her mission doneshe could kill
him and then kill the king while he was in mourningtoo weak to fight back.

I could find something to slip into his dri

No. Then theyd be blamed for it. Think quickly, idiot! You cant just stab him with a knife as youre serving him! No,
nowait until after theyre done with dinnerwhen hes riding away from the chateau. A dagger in the back, thrown
from the woods. No one would ever know who did it. Its flawless.

Her heart began to beat very quickly at the prospect that one of her prey was actually nearby. The sooner she got
things done, the sooner she could leave. Could she really kill someone right now? Of course she couldshe had killed
those flies with ease. Hitting a human target wouldnt be any issue. Shed just have to make sure that she was far
enough away from the chateau so that it wouldnt put the blame on the chateau.

I could tell them Im going upstairs to change out of my wet clothesand really just follow after the princetake a
knife fromfrom where? Nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the houseMaybe a rock to the head then? You can figure
it outyouve killed people with hairpinsyou can kill anyone with anything.

"Dont just stand there! Go set that table!"

Celaena bolted into action, her mind reeling and body quivering with anticipation. What did he look like? Was he as
handsome as he was said to be? What did that matter? He was going to be dead anyway.

She put on a cold mask as she entered into the dining room, but found it to be empty. She hadnt actually
assassinated anyone like this in practically three years. The assassins she had killed in Renaril didnt countshe
hadnt done it for any profit save for self-satisfaction. But thisshe was actually ordered and paid for thistrue, it was
her freedom she was receiving, but that was a reward greater than all the gold in the world.

If I kill him, Ill be one step closer to freedomone step closer to absolute victory

Determination swelled up in her breast, and she forgot everyone and everything she had encountered in Wendlyn.

Freedom.

She had been so worried about not being able to actually kill themabout getting cold feet and her morals shifting in
the wrong direction for this missionbut now that freedom was so close that she could taste it

Nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

In the parlor room, she could hear voiceslaughter and light conversation. As she neared the side of the table closest
to the door, she craned her neck to attempt to get a view of the Crown Prince, but all that she saw was a very
expensive-looking brown boot. There was an explosion of horrendous giggles from the stepsisters, and Celaena
cringed, wondering why the young man had come to see these wretched beasts.

Her task done, Celaena returned to the kitchen. Where was Cindrillion? Wasnt this the moment she had been waiting
for?

"Wheres Cindrillion?" she asked, sitting down on the table.

Stephaenya shook her head and waved her spoon in the air. "The Baroness sent her into town for the day. Didnt want
the Crown Prince falling in love with her, says I."

Celaena grinned. "Im not surprised. Was Cindrillion upset?"

"No," Stephaenya said, taking a pot off of the fire and filling a large bowl with something that smelled and looked
delicious. "The Baroness didnt tell her whyshe just ordered her to go there until sundown."
Before anything else could be said, the Baroness burst into the kitchen, her face so painted and powdered that she
looked like a circus clown. Celaena bit down on a laugh.

"Why is lunch not ready?" The woman narrowed her eyes at Stephaenya and Leighanna, and then looked at Celaena.
"You two are to serve us. You," she pointed a jeweled finger at Celaena, "are to remain down here. You look like a
drowned rat."

Celaena forced a smile and nodded her head in false servile enthusiasm.

The Baroness ignored her and swept out of the kitchen, causing the two servants to rush around even faster. After the
custard incident, Leighanna had refused to allow Celaena to be involved in any cooking, so aside from cleaning, she
really had nothing to do at the moment except watch them.

Grabbing the plates, Leighanna filled them with as much food as they could carry and she and Stephaenya hurried
upstairs, rushing back and forth for the food platters and pitchers of wine. Within five minutes they were seated at the
table, fanning themselves and panting. From upstairs, she could hear the sound of dining, and nervous excitement
settled over the assassins body.

"Did you see him?" she asked the two women, looking at the open doorway.

Leighanna shook her head. "No, we just rang the bell to announce dinner and rushed back here."

"Why? Why didnt you look at him?"

"The Baroness made it clear that we were not to be seen."

Celaena hissed through her teeth. She needed to get a look at him to make sure she was killing the right person. "Im
going to see what he looks like."

"What?"

"Do you have anything missing from the table that I cou"

"No!" Stephaenya said, her eyes wide. "The Baroness gave orders that you werent to be seen!"

Celaena ran a hand through her wet hair and sighed. "Very well, Ill just have to do a bit of spying."

She didnt wait to hear their objections.

She crept up the stairs and flattened herself against the wall, hiding in the shadows as she peered into the dining
room. She saw Marghennas monstrous form seated beside a hysterical Joline, whose nose seemed to be made even
longer when she was laughing. The Baronesss back was to her, and she had a strained smile on her face that made
Celaena grin with satisfaction.

There was an old man seated across from the Baroness at the other end of the tablehe couldnt be the Crown Prince
and then there was

It cant be.

Her eyes widened and she took a sharp breath before she could stop herself. Celaena blinked several times to make
sure she wasnt seeing things.

The Crown Prince was Galan. Galan, whom she had danced with and met in the woods by chance and had been snide
and rude and

Holy shit.

She listened to their conversation to be sure.

"And we were so upset when you didnt come on Beltaen, your highness! Why, we had expected to see you at
Ghents party!" the Baroness crooned.

A small smile played on the Crown Princes lips. "I apologize for getting your hopes upI wasdelayed by another
gathering." It was Galan. Was he talking about her? Why hadnt he told her who he was? Why hadnt he told her that
he belonged to the Ashryver family? A noble indeed! He had let her believe that he was one of the Baronesss folk all
along!

Gods aboveI cantI cant kill him now!

Panic rushed through her. This was not supposed to happen. If he had been some anonymous noble, if he hadnt been
someone she had known

Shit, shit, shit!

You stupid idiot! You fool! Youre Adarlans assassin, just put all of that awayyou can kill him, you could do it if you
wanted to, if you tried.

I dont want to.

Agh! Youve got to kill him. Your freedom relies on it.

I could kill his father and get the defense plans and just pretend like I couldnt get access to him. Two out of three
isnt that bad.

If you say so.

Celaena put a hand to her heart in a futile attempt to get it to calm down. She watched Galan try to look as pleasant
as possible, but as the minutes passed, she saw his patience beginning to wear down. He was the Crown Prince. Galan
Ashryver.

How ironic. The one decent noble I meet in this country is the one Ive got to kill.

"Elentulyai!" Stephaenya hissed from the foot of the staircase, and Celaena looked down the passageway. "Get down
here!"

If she stared at Galan much longer, she might do something stupid. She wouldnt kill him today, but perhaps if they
got into a fight, perhaps if he said or did something deserving the next time they metthen shed kill him.

Youre pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Youve become weak and youve lost your nerve. Three years ago, you would
have risen to the occasion; you wouldnt have cared who got hurt or involved, just as long as you got the job done.
Youre not Adarlans assassin anymore.

She looked back at Galans eyes, which now seemed about to erupt with barely-restrained temper, and her face
burned. Those eyes

I was trying to tell you about the similarity of your eyes to, well, mine. Ashryver eyesHad theywere they

Dont think that! Today has just been too much! That Fae-male, the Crown Prince, waking up so damn early to work
with Luca

Im about to go insane.

Why am I not too shocked that hes the Crown Prince? A key source to getting into the castleha! He is the castle.
What have I gotten myself into?

This country may drive me mad.

Rubbing her eyes, Celaena took one last look at him before creeping down the stairs and back into the kitchen.
Dorian is going to go ballistic when he hears about this.

Dorian DeHavilliard awoke in a dream unlike any he had ever experienced before. The light was a kind of shimmering
sunrise and the air smelled like a thousand summer afternoons spent laying in the sun and riding on the back of the
wind. There were silver trees with golden leaves for as far as the eye could see, and he could have sworn that he
heard heavenly singing in the distance. It was the kind of place that only existed in dreams, the kind of place that
books and myths frequented so often. He stood for a while, admiring the scenery, and then felt a slight breeze push
him forward with gentle force, as if it were urging him to move on.

As he walked through the woods, he realized that his clothing was a bitbizarre. It was something out of ancient
timesa white toga made of the softest fabric that fell to his knees, and golden sandals that laced up his bare legs.
Around his shoulders was clasped a silver cape, and he felt the weight of a circlet on his head.

Where in Hell am I?

Where in Heaven would be more appropriate, wouldnt it? Is this some sort of result of my magick? Gods above, is
this really a dream?

Unable to do anything else, he continued to walk until he reached a golden clearing. And then he forgot how to
breathe.

There she wassleeping on what looked to be an ornately carved fainting couch placed in the middle of the woods
the woman who held his fate in her hands, the woman whom he loved more than any being alive.

Celaena Sardothien.

Lying there, she was the embodiment of grace and beauty. Her golden hair lay streaming out around her, her red lips
full and slightly parted, her perfectly-shaped breasts rising and falling so elegantly that he could do nothing but stare
at her in awe. She wore a blue dress similar in fashion to what he was wearinga dress so delicate and flowing that it
seemed to be spun out of spiders silk, and her ivory skin glowed like the moon.

He had forgotten how lovely she was. He crossed to where she lay, and knelt down on the soft ground beside her
couch, smiling slightly as he looked down at her face.

This had to be a dreamit wasnt possible that this was real.

But

But it feels as if Im awake. I feel that if I were to die now, it would really be the end of me. But I know its not
possible for me to be able to see her in realityso this has to be a dream. Only

He reached out a hand and stroked her smooth cheek, feeling the warmth of the blush that made her look like an
impossibly perfect painting.

She feels real.

Blood rushed through his body at quickening speed as the longings of his heart returned with full force. It was such a
relief to see her here, even if it was just a figment of his imagination

The power of a dream setting in, he boldly ran his hand through her silky hair, and leaned forward, planting a gentle
kiss on her soft lips. He tasted her sweet breath, smelling that wild and arousing scent that always lingered around
her, and his heart began to beat faster as he drew away from her.

As if in a fairytale, her eyes fluttered open, revealing those perfect sapphire orbs, and his throat tightened. She didnt
even seem to notice him at first, and she sat up with a small noise, her hands rising to her lips. It was then that she
turned her head and saw him, her hands dropping into her lap.

Her eyes widened and she moved away from him, and her surprise and fear disturbed him.
They were silent for a moment, and he rose to seat himself on the couch, their eyes locked together. He didnt know
what to say. It felt as if they were in a storya fairytale or a myth of the Old World. There were so many things he
had wanted to say to herso many things that needed to be saidbut he could think of nothing that would be
appropriate at that moment.

It was Celaena who spoke first.

"Is this a dream?" Her voice was smooth and cultured, and sounded sweeter than any song or bell he had heard in the
last month.

He shrugged, keeping his emotions down. If she was going to keep a cool head, then so was he. "PerhapsmaybeI
dont know. It feels real." Despite his attempt to look as indifferent as possible, he felt very stupid after saying this;
but as he watched her face turn a shade of red, he began to hope that perhaps his voice had sounded as good to her
as hers had to him. There was an awkward moment of silence, and she looked away, her blush deepening.

His eyes sparkled. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm.

"You look well," he said, unable to suppress a roguish grin.

She turned her head back to him and raised an eyebrow.

"You lookhealthy," he continued, an arrogant smile spreading across his handsome features. "Much fuller."

A corner of her mouth twitched upwards, revealing the sharp canine beneath. Perhaps that had been the wrong thing
to say.

"I meant that in a good way!" he said hurriedly, his cool countenance slipping. "You just look much moreI dont
know, attractive. Youre not all skin-and-bones anymore. You look like a real womanII like that. It suits you." Gods
above, he was blabbering!

She stopped snarling and her mouth tightened. He couldnt tell if she were angry or embarrassed. Just keep it
togetherstop sounding so

Her brows contracted, and her brows rose. "What are you wearing?" she asked, her nose crinkling.

Dorian looked down at his attire and frowned. He had liked it! "A toga!" he said indignantly. "A princely outfit from the
days of"

"Its a dress," she said flatly, and picked at her nails.

His mouth dropped open. "It is not a dress." He couldnt believe itthey were finally in a dream together and she
chose to make fun of him?

She looked at him again, an evil smirk spreading across her face. "Its a dress, Dorian," it sounded so good to hear
her say his name! "And you know it."

"This," he said, motioning down at himself with a sweep of his hand, "is a robe."

She only rolled her eyes in response. "Denial is an unattractive quality in men, you know."

"Fine!" he burst out. "Its a dress! Its a dress made for men!"

She grinned, and then burst out laughing, her silvery-laugh flitting through the trees like a sprite.

Ive missed you so much

When she had finished, she looked into his eyes again, her grin fading into a small smile.

"Hows Adarlan? Still as corrupt and vile as it was when I left?"

"With you gone, the life expectancy has gone up about fifty years."

She snorted. "Hows Chaol?"

Chaol? CHAOL! Ask about me, not about him!

His jealousy must have shone on her face because she shook her head and frowned. "Calm down, you idiot. I was just
making sure he was still alive."

"Hes the Captain of the Guard," Dorian said icily, still irritated that she had chosen to bring another man into their
dream, "why wouldnt he be?" Youre supposed to be keeping it together, not acting like a dolt!

She shrugged her shoulders and said nothing, turning her head to look at the forest around them.

"Howhows Wendlyn? Are things going all right for you over there?" But I dont want to act so calm with her! I
havent seen her for over a month and I do not feel like chatting! Gods above, half a year ago I could have any
woman I wantedjust a snap of my fingers and Id have some stupid wench on her backWhy cant I just do that
with her?

A bittersweet look crossed her face, revealing that she was clearly more interested in conversation. "Things are
theyre great here. Ive met a lot of interesting peopleyoud like them."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. "Tell me about them," he purred. This is a dreamdo what you want
with her!

She ignored the shift in his manner and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "Well, theres Cindrillionwho is quite a
piece of work. Shes the stepdaughter of the Baroness who owns the chateau where Im workingI couldnt get a job
at the palace, by the wayand so Cindrillion is half-mad from all of the beatings that this awful woman has given her,
but shes really quite insightful and smart when it comes down to it. I think that within a few months, Ill be able to
help her get over some of the fits she goes into Oh! And then theres Luca, who is also pretty complexhes the
bastard son of the neighboring baron, and Dorian dont give me that look because hes only sixteen, and hes been
harassed by the barons son his whole life because hes more handsome and is a potential threat to the boys
inheritance.

"And Stephaenya is this girl whom hes been in love with since they first met a few years go. Shes a lovely girl when
shes not yelling at us to stop bickering. Hes training to be a knight, and Im helping himI made this machine that
helps to train him for this jousting contest since I cant ride a horse to save my life."

Dorian leaned even closer to her, wondering when shed finally take a breath. But she seemed so intent on explaining
everything about everyone to him that she didnt even notice his advances.

"Leighanna is kind of the grandmother to everyoneshes pretty old, but is still lively. She makes the best food youve
ever eaten, I swearhave you ever eaten paestia? Dorian, youve got to introduce it to Adarlan, because it is simply
the mostdelicious food ever invented!"

She paused, and he blinked a few times, surprised that she had finally taken a breath. She was talking about the food
she had eaten? It certainly sounded as if she were having a good timebut this wasnt just a vacationshe was on a
mission to

"And then theres Galan," she said slowly, and Dorians eyes bulged.

"Galan? Galan Ashryver?" he said suddenly, straightening. How dare that good-for-nothing prince court and befriend
his love interest! How in hell had he found her? Why wasnt he dead? Hadnt she been sent to kill him, not

"Dorian," she said warningly. "We met by accidenthe doesnt know that I know hes the Crown Prince. But I was
trying to say that hes not that bad at all. Hes idealistic and innocent and will make a fine king one day. Theres no
need to assassinate him, honestly! Hes quite nice and"

"Hes Wendlyns Crown Prince," he growled, his temper rising too quickly for comfort. "Hes the enemy."
She wouldnt dare be romantically involved with himno! Because she wasshe was

"Do you love him?" he snarled, grabbing her by the wrist. His heart was beating so fast that he felt like throwing up.

She flung her arm out of his grasp and barred her teeth, standing up from the couch. " No. I do not love him! But if
you continue to act so ridiculously male and territorial, Im going to!"

"To what?" he said, rising from his seat as well. He felt that disturbing rush of power jolt through him and the singing
in the woods stopped as a cold wind swept through.

"To"

She stopped as she felt the breeze, her face going pale. She sighed, her shoulders suddenly drooping, and shook her
head. "I dont want to get into a fight with you, Dorian, about something that you shouldnt be worrying about."

"Why isnt he dead?" he snapped. He had been fretting over her for too longall of those sleepless nights and the
times he had wished so fervently that she would appear to himwere they all for naught?

"Because I only found out who he really was this morning!" she replied as calmly as she could, but she couldnt keep
the fire out of her voice. "By accident! I couldnt kill him in front of everyone!"

"You could have killed him whenever he left!"

"Dorian, he was my friend before I knew who he was. I cantI cant kill someone like that. Its got to be anonymous."

"You killed those assassins in Renarilyou knew who they were!"

Her eyes narrowed. "They deserved to die, Dorian. Galan does not."

His mouth gaped open and he threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "I cant believe youre taking their side
Wendlyns side! When youre working for us! What do you expect my father to do when you return home empty-
handed? Pat you on the back and let you go? Hell use any failure as an excuse to put you in shackles againto hang
you. Gods above, I dont want you to die!" Desperation and fear clogged his throat, and he closed his eyes as his
voice shook. "Please, Celaenayouve got to kill him. Do it now before you become more attached Please."

He sank down onto the couch and put his face in his hands as he took a few steadying breaths. "I cant," he said,
dropping his hands into his lap and turning his head over his shoulder to look at her. "I cant afford to lose you.
Theres been so much going on in my life right nowand I dont think I could bear the thought ofId send you to
some place far away, but with recent events, it would only worsen the situation! Gods above," he groaned, and closed
his eyes, turning away from her. "Please, Celaenajust do what you were assigned to do and dont let your personal
feelings get in the way."

There was a second of silence, and he let out a deep breath, hoping that she had taken his advice.

"Thats a bit hypocritical, isnt it?" she suddenly snapped, and he was surprised by the ice in her voice. "You expect
me to put away my personal feelings for Galan and everyone else here because of my feelings for you! That is letting
my personal feelings get in the way!"

He opened his mouth to reply, standing up again, but she cut him off.

"No! You dont understand, Dorianyou dont know what its like here. Especially what its like here for me. Theres
much about my pasttoo much about my pastthat seems to be brought up here, and a part of me needs to be in a
place like this and interact with real people, uncorrupted people, for a little while. I didnt become Adarlans assassin
in one day, Dorian! It was yearsover a decade of training and forgetting and fear. But when Im hereall of that
training and forgetting seems to go away! This place wants me to remember who I was before I was an assassin, and
while that may not be good for Adarlan, its good for me!"

She sighed, sitting down again, and put her head in her hands, her back to him. Since when had she been so open to
him with her personal feelings? He couldnt believe that Wendlyn had changed her so much in such a short amount of
time. Maybe it was good for her But if she was changing so drastically, would she still be the woman he loved when
she returned?

"I will get your job done, Dorian DeHavilliard," she said through her fingers, her voice low, "so do not complain any
further. Your father will find no fault in my accomplishments here."

He felt badhe felt truly guilty about saying what he had. She had said she didnt want to fight, but he had continued,
his jealousy and pride taking over him. He was wasting their time together

"Celaena" he began, and touched her shoulder, but she jerked away from him, and walked over to a nearby tree.

He watched her for a few moments, wondering if she was crying, and then stood up to go to her.

"Dont come near me," she said slowly, her back still to him. "Its notits not safe."

He blinked. "Safe? Not safe for whom? Celaena, were in some sort of dream world, nothing can"

She whirled to face him, her eyes filled with a kind of self-fear that he had often seen in his own reflection. "A dream
world made of magick, of faerie magick! And as long as its constructed of it, then that means that I could"

"How do you know its magick?" His heart skipped a beat. Did shedid she know anything about his powersabout
how to use them?

"Cant you smell it?" she asked, shaking her head as her brows narrowed. "Cant you feel it all around you? This is Fae
magickmagick of the"

"Fae magick? Theyre long gone, theyre"

"Dorian, Wendlyn is crawling with them! Your father may have made them flee Adarlan, but they still exist in
Wendlyn!"

"How do you know its magick?" he exclaimed again, feeling slightly dizzy.

"Gods above, Dorian, Ive got it!" she cried, her fists clenching. Her voice shook. "My blood is overflowing with it! Ive
got so much that I dont know what to do with it alland that makes me a threat to you, dream world or reality, when
Im angry or upset."

He couldnt believe what he was hearing. He couldnt believe that she, Adarlans assassin, the love of his life, Celaena
Sardothien had magick. "Youre joking," he said, stepping towards her. She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear
and sorrow.

"Ive had it since birthI just been suppressing and hiding it for seventeen years. Thats what this place has done to
me, Dorianits unraveled who I am and released me from the bonds of timeI cant go back to Adarlan until I learn
how to hide it againIts too dangerous."

Looking at her stressed features, he suddenly had no doubt that they were meant to be together. He didnt know why
she had magickof the few things he had learned about it, he had discovered that it was mostly common in royals.

"I know the feeling," he snorted. Relief was pouring into his veins at lightning speed. He had hoped that he could
count on her to support him, and now that he knew that she had so cunningly been able to hide her talents for so long
without detection, he no longer feared a negative reaction. Maybe she could teach him how to hide it, how to make it
lay dormant

She looked at him in utter confusion.

He walked up to her and took her wrist in his hand so that she couldnt turn away from him again. "What I meant was
thatdo you remember that incident before you leftwhen my fathers throne room windows exploded?" She nodded,
telling him to continue, then her eyes widened as it hit her.

"That was you?" she whispered, sounding as relieved and confounded as he was. "Youyouve got it too?"
He smiled in reply and stroked his thumb down the velvety underside of her arm.

"But your fatherhow did he react?"

"He doesnt know. And hes not going to find out."

"Youve got to tell Chaol."

Why did she always have to bring other men into the conversation? "He already knows. First-hand experience,
actually."

"Did he"

"Lets not talk about it, all right?" he pulled her closer to him. Just the fact that she also had the burden of magick was
enough for him at this moment. His grip on her arm relaxed and he idly caressed her smooth skin.

"I dont know how long this dream is going to last, Celaena, and Id rather not spend it worrying over something that
can wait until we meet again" His voice dropped into the seductive croon that he knew made womens knees go
weak, and he poured all of his energy into directing that power at her.

Her face turned a shade of maroon that fueled him onwards. If this was a dream, then he could do whatever he liked.
If this were some sort of magickal, telepathic encounter of Fae-creation, then at least hed have made some progress
made with her by the time it was over

"You look really beautiful, you know," he purred, leaning towards her. He had waited for so long "I dont think I ever
told you how"

"Stop it," she snapped, and shook off his hold, striding away as if she were going to leave.

No! Youyou cant reject me! I love you, damn it!

Hurt and anger and love welled up in his chest and burst forth like a dam as he grabbed her by the arm, roughly
swung her around to face him, and kissed her deeply.

She was stiff for a secondas if she were registering what was happeningand then she relaxed, submitting to his
kiss. She circled her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her, and he felt her answer to the need and desire
that had been building in his heart for the past few months.

He put his arms around her and kissed her for all of the times that he hadnt, but should have. He kissed her for all of
those times that he had wanted to, but fear and denial had made it impossible. He kissed her for all of the hours that
he had spent dreaming of this moment, of the feel of her body against his, of her warmth and scent and touch. He
kissed her for the future that he wanted to share with her, for the plans that he had made for them and those that
they would make together

But then she withdrew suddenly, and looked down at the ground in sorrow and shame. His heart was pounding in his
chest and he felt as if he were everywhere and nowhere all at once. The world had suddenly expanded and contracted
and there were suns and moons going mad in the sky above them. He was utterly consumed by hereverything in
the world seemed to revolve around them, and a wild joy had set his body on fire.

"Dorian, we ca"

"I love you," he burst out before she could finish. He hadnt meant to say it in such a wayhe had expected a
romantic speech and timing, but if she were about to push him away again

She shook her head slowly. "You dont know what youre talking about," she said, and tried to move away, but his
hold on her remained firm. "You havent known me long enough to be able to say that."

The explosive feeling in his body overwhelmed him. He knew that he couldnt possibly function without herhe
couldnt function without feeling this level of emotion again and again until his dying day. Without this, without her, he
felt so hollow, so meaningless. This was the miracle that hed been dreaming of This was love.
And Ill be damned if I let her throw it away.

"Celaena, dont you understand what Im saying?" he exclaimed. "I love youIve never loved any woman before! Its
not something that can be reasoned with or talked out of!" His voice rose with passion as he spilled out what had
been building inside of him. "Its this consuming feeling and fire within me that ruthlessly takes overits this desire to
be with you all the time, or even to just look upon your face for a second. Its joyous and painful and wonderful and
terrifying all at once! I need you in my life to go on livingI cant function without you! You complete me! Do you
understand what that means? I love you!"

She stared at him in disbelief, but the words wouldnt stop coming out of his mouth. "I should have told youI should
have told you the night I first realized it," he gushed, his eyes lit with love, "But I didnt. Because I was too afraid
too afraid of you, too afraid of my father, too afraid of myself to act on it. But now Celaena, Im not afraid anymore!
Im not going to deny my heart what it wants"

She stared at him, her eyes filled with something he couldnt quite grasp, and then placed her arms around his neck
once more, her silent answer everything he had hoped it would be.

Celaena Sardothien reveled in the warmth and love that generated from the body of Dorian DeHavilliard, her hands
roaming across his muscular shoulders and back and through his dark hair. He left a trail of feather-light kisses from
her jaw down to her shoulder that made her body stiffen with excitement, and as his hands explored and caressed her
body, she drifted off into a state of euphoria that she had never experienced before.

All that she could remember of the incident was the blissful joy and contentment that she felt from having him near
her, from tasting his body and smelling that wonderful scent that set her on fire, and from knowing that someone in
the world loved her more than anyone or anything. They lay on the small couch, their arms around each other,
listening to the sound of their breathing.

His declaration of love had scared her more than she would have liked to admit, but when he had explained the
feelings that came along with it, a part of her had awoken and begun to ache like never before.

She didnt know if this were a dream or some form of semi-realityit felt so similar to that dream she had had with
the Faerie Queen Maeve. But this couldnt be real because

Because its a dream!

And because youd never do this in real life.

A part of her knew for a fact that this was more than a dreamthat they would both remember this incident, but
would secretly doubt its truth due to the realm in which it had occurred.

She idly stroked her fingers down his chest, feeling the warmth and strength that lay beneath. A feeling of
contentment and safety had settled over her, and she lay her head on his shoulder, smiling.

She felt so secure, so loved

But dont let this trick you into feelings that you know dont exist! You do not love himand while he may love you,
theres going to be a time when you will have to

Shut up.

This had to be some sort of paradisiacal dream created from loneliness. It was too wonderful to be true. She didnt
want it to be true.

"Dorain?" she whispered, and lifted her head to look at him. His arms tightened around her body in reply.

"Mmm?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

She stared at his beautiful face, and then ran a finger down his smooth cheek. "Nothing," she said, and put her head
down on his chest again, deeply breathing in his scent.
She listened to the beating of his heart for a few minutes, as if she were looking for some kind of answer to the
question buzzing in her mind.

"Dorian?" she asked again after a while, and propped herself up on his chest.

He raised an eyebrow and opened his eyes, looking into hers. "Yes?"

She smiled at him, the sight of his face sending an overflowing happiness through her. It made her want to bound
around the clearing and fly around the world, but also to just bury herself in him and remain in one place for all time.

"If this is realmeaning if this is really your mind and my mind meeting in some sort of celestial plane"

"That sentence was far too grammatically correct and structured for my current state of mind," he grumbled. She
tapped him on the nose in reprimand and frowned slightly.

"As I was saying" she adjusted herself, digging her elbows into his chest with enough force to make him awaken a
bit more. "If this is real, not just some figment of our imaginations, how are we going to know that its real?"

He ran a hand through her hair and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "If this is real," he sighed, pulling her back
down, "well both know without a doubt."

"How?" she asked, fingering the ring that he had given her.

"Ill just declare my love to you the second you step off of the boat."

"But what if the real Dorian was planning on doing that anyway?"

"Then youll have to kiss me in reply and do some sort of funny jig."

"Why do I have to do the jig?"

"How about we both just ask each other if we had this dream and if the answer is yes, then it happened."

"Thats really unromantic."

"Since when have you been one for romance?"

She raised her head and glared at him. "Ive always appreciated romanceyouve just never had the balls to do
anything that might be considered in that category?"

"Oh, really?" he gave her that lazy, arrogant smile that she had grown to be so fond of, and she snarled playfully at
him.

"Singing ballads outside your window never seemed romantic to mejust plain stupid."

"You could have written me poetry."

"And have you analyze and mock it? And then show it to Chaol and have a good laugh over it again? Absolutely not!"

She grinned. "I would never analyze your poetry. It would belong in the undiscussed category of our favorite book,
Sunsets Passions."

"Thats terriblethats absolutely horrible! Youd consider my heartfelt poetry to be in the same category as that
trashy romance novel!" He sat up and she reached for some kind of fabric to cover her bare breasts with.

"What would you have me do then? Chocolates? Elaborate dinners? A night on the town?"

She smiled with sweet venom at him. "Going two minutes without that arrogant smirk on your face would be quite
enough for me."
"You are the unromantic one! Nothing would be good enough for you! You hate everything that normal women like!"

"Singing ballads outside my window would be quite satisfactory, thank you."

He growled. "When pigs fly."

"I could easily arrange for that to happen," she said.

There was a halt in their conversation as they both considered how that would be made possible.

She hadnt been very surprised to learn that he had magickhe was a strong noble, and a pure one (in his own way).
But his father was so against, so afraid of magickIt would be detrimental to their relationship, let alone their
country, if his father were to discover that his son was gifted in what he had spent so much time and energy secretly
repressing.

A kind of twilight had settled over the clearing, and the edges of the trees were beginning to become misty, as if the
world itself were fading into cloud.

"Dorian," she began, but he cut her off.

"Its ending, isnt it? This dreamthis place. II can feel it now. Its as if its just disappearing into nothing, like a
wave drying upon the sand."

She nodded. "It is."

His blue eyes stared deeply into her own, and he leaned forward to gently kiss her. She returned his kiss, suddenly
fearful that this would be the only time she would see him until her return.

The mist had crept up to encircle the couch, and they withdrew slightly from their tight embrace.

"I love you," he whispered onto her lips, nibbling on her bottom one in such a way that she felt a rush of excitement
course through her body once more. "Dont forget thatnever forget that. Whatever happensJust remember that I
love you."

She kissed him again, unable to say anything; and the last thing that she remembered before she woke up was the
warmth of his arms around her.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 13

Gods above, Dorianpay attention!

Dorian DeHavilliard blinked and felt the wave of reawakening to reality hit him. How long had he been out of it? A
lazy smile spread itself across his face as he remembered the reason why he had slipped into a daydream.

Sorry, he grinned at Chaol, and picked up the parchment in front of him. Where were we?

Chaol scowled at him and shook his head. I was trying to explain the armys current positioning Chaol raised his
eyebrows in expectation of Dorians understanding, but upon receiving a blank look from the Crown Prince, the
Captain of the Guard rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. At least tell me you were thinking of something
moderately interesting.

Dorian ran a hand through his dark hair and beamed at Chaol. I had this dream last night he began, and thought
his face would break in two from his smile.

Chaol snorted. I wonder whom it was about.

The Crown Prince laughed and shook his head. It felt so real thoughit actually felt as if she and I were
there in this sort ofparadise. I swear on my crown that it was her mind as well as mine.
 Chaol raised an eyebrow. Youve gone completely mad. It was a dream, Dorian. I know they can feel real
at times, but in the end, its just something that your mind created.

He bit down on his lip, and stared deeply into Chaols eyes. I dont think it was my mind that created that
dream, Chaol, he said softly. I think it was

OhI see what you mean.

An uneasy feeling settled in Dorians stomach in response to Chaols desire to avoid speaking about magick.
But he wasnt the only one with magick nowCelaena had itand in abundance. He had awoken that morning,
feeling happy and relieved for the first time in over a month. He could still feel her in his arms, hear the beat of her
heart, and the smell of her hairhe could still taste her

He looked down at the parchment, a blush rising to his cheeks as he remembered his gushing confession.
Even if it had been just a dream, the fact that he would so willingly pour out everything in his heart was a bit
embarrassing and humiliating. He was a princehe wasnt supposed to be falling all over a woman like this!
Especially with a dividing country, a war, and magick to deal with.

Dorian straightened himself, still trying to rid himself of morning grogginess. His eyes scanned the map
before him, reading what was written in bold red ink. Weve taken all of the White Fang Mountains? He narrowed
his brows. Whats the economic advantage in that? I mean: there has to be a population of five-hundred for that
regionwhat could my father see in it?

Chaol nodded his head. Thats what I was wonderingit seems that your father is acquiring territories as
fast as his army can conquer themwhether or not theyre beneficial to Adarlan.

Why, though? The White Fangs hardly have any people, and their only source of income is through their fur
trade, which doesnt seem to be doing too well at the present momentHes up to something.
I think that this may be a political tactic of his, Chaol said after a moment or two of silence as the two
young men studied the map once more. I think that with the ongoing war with Wendlynand the likelihood that it
could failyour father needs a way to reassure his council and his people that he is still as deadly and capable as he
was when he conquered the majority of this continent. He also needs to prove that to himself.

And probably add as much territory as he can before I take the throne, Dorian added in darkly.

Chaol gave him a weighing look. Youreyoure not going to continue your fathers unfinished work?

Dorian leaned back in his chair, an arrogant look seeping across his features. Of course not. By the time he
finally dies, hell probably have conquered the entire worldwhat work would I have to do then? Chaol raised an
eyebrow. Dorian shook his head. My interests for my country lie elsewhere.

Do you still have that piece of paper that the Minister of Trasien gave to you? Chaol whispered, leaning
forward across the broad table. So this was why Chaol had insisted on meeting with him!

Dorian nodded and put a hand into his pocket, where he had been hiding the cryptic information that the old
man had given him. They had been trying to decipher the few words written on it for days, and it had always resulted
in frustration and heavy drinking. There were two obvious words on ittwo amongst a few othersbut the
connection between them, between any of them was utterly lost to the young men.

I still cant make anything of it, he said quietly, glancing around his room to make sure that there were no stray
ears to hear their words.

Let me read it again, Chaol said and extended his hand. Dorian handed him the small piece of paper and
sat back in his chair again, watching Chaols face as he read what the minister had scribbled.

At least he told us when to meet him next.

He didnt say where. I hope he doesnt mean either of those two towns on there.

Chaol rubbed his eyes. I doubt that he did. I have a feeling that hell find us. They were silent again, and
Dorian felt a familiar knot of worry clench his stomach. Things seemed to be happening so quickly
 He couldnt let things get out of hand so quickly.

Chaol, he sighed, II have to admit that Im a bit clueless as to what exactly were doingI dont know
what the minister hopes to accomplish, or what even you or I are hoping to achieve.

The Captain of the Guard took a shaky breath. I dont know, Dorianits just that things in Adarlan seem to
suddenly be so fragile and He trailed off, shaking his head.

I dont want to be a pawn in whatever is going on, Dorian said, and Chaol blinked, his surprise reflected in
his green eyes. But I dont want to be a leader in something that could make my father very, very angry. I, Dorian
cleared his throat, I know that there are some things in Adarlan that are in need of serious changethe situation of
the peasants and lower-classes, for instance. They were once our backbone, and now theyve become seamlessly
mixed with our slave populationwith no reason whatsoever save for my fathers need for more workers. There is no
respect for their position, no compassion for their blight, and my father cant see that. No country can function on an
unhappy majority, even if that majority is on the bottom of the class laddermy father and his council dont
understand that the top of the mountain is not more important and powerful than the stones that form the base.

Chaols jaw practically dropped onto the table, but then he regained his composure. I dont think Ive ever
heard anything so wise or mature come out of your mouth.

I dont read a lot for nothing, you know.

Dorian smiled warmly at his friend and looked down at the small piece of paper again. I dont understand
this at allI mean, the Crown Prince pulled the map of Adarlan and its territories closer to him. Why these two
towns? He pointed at the small specks on either end of the map, his brows knitting together. Amaroth and NollI
cant make any connection between them.

Chaol leaned forward. Well, we know that theyre both on opposite ends of the empireone in ice and one
in the desertTheyre, he measured the distances between them, about a thousand miles apart, and, the Captain
of the Guard cocked his head to the side, and his eyes suddenly lit up, theyre each about a thousand miles from
Renaril!

Dorian measured it himself and then frowned. But what does that mean? They make an equilateral triangle
whats so important about that?

Chaol shrugged. Battle tactics? I dont know, youre the one whos supposed to be trained in this kind of
thing.

Dorian scowled and ran a hand through his hair. What could it mean? Perhaps we should look into some
cultural backgrounds for these placessee what might make them useful.

Chaol nodded in response. Do you have any atlases or books that might be of use here? He motioned at
the piles of books that littered Dorians floor, and the Crown Prince shook his head.

Not that I know of. Have someone go down to the library to

I think that we should go down to the library, Dorian, Chaol interrupted suddenly. Dorian caught the gist of
his message and he stood up from the table, carefully tucking the piece of paper back in his pocket.

They made their way down to the Royal Library, trying to act as casual as possible. It was a massive hall in
the depths of the Old Castle, full of catacombs that were rumored to go down several stories into the ground. Dorian
had spent his childhood exploring the hidden passageways and rooms of the library, and knew it like the back of his
hand. He knew where every book could be foundwhether it was in the floor-to-endless-ceiling shelves of the main
hall, or nestled in a crook in the wall deep beneath the city. It had been his sanctuary for many years, and it filled
him with nostalgia to enter into its wood and stone archways again.

It was empty, which didnt surprise him, and he nodded briskly at the Chief Librarian as they entered, motioning that
he didnt want to be disturbed. There were ancient, sacred texts here, hidden far from his fathers grasp and
knowledge, written in languages and empires long since past, and he felt chills of excitement race down his arms at
the thought of those locked doors and hallways, and what he might uncover when he took the throne
 But what they were looking for did not lie in those books. It lay in the common books, in the unrestricted
section of the library, in a place that provided basic knowledge. Dorian steered them over to a book-lined wall and
grabbed onto a ladder, pulling it along until he found the appropriate section, then nimbly climbed upwards, his rapier
clanking angrily against the rungs. He climbed almost twenty feet into the air before he found the shelf he was
looking for, and hissed a warning to Chaol before he dropped the three needed books downwards. The Captain of the
Guard caught the massive volumes with a grunt and scowled up at him as he put them down on a large oak table,
seating himself as the Crown Prince descended the ladder. Dorian took the chair beside Chaol and pushed a book
towards his friend. They probably should have done this days ago, but there had been so many things going on that

Just focus on one task at a time. You wont get anything accomplished if you spend your time fretting about
everything at oncejust keep your eyes on this, on this quest

Amaroth and Noll, he whispered so that only they could hear, and pulled the second tome towards him, the
smell of old books and dust filling the air as he opened its worn leather cover.

The King of Adarlan smiled at Duke Perringtonn, his eyes lit with victory.

Theseiron ballsthey can truly cross the distance between the reef and Peregrinno?

Perringtonn nodded. We tested it from every ship in your new fleet, my Lord. Each is capable of doing
considerable damage from a great distance. They can knock down entire stone walls, if required. If you dont mind
me saying, your majesty, this new fleet is quite extraordinarythese ships may be even faster than those in Wendlyn,
and are fully equipped for battle.

The king looked down at the map of Wendlyn, unable to suppress a shiver of excitement. Theyd be
destroying Wendlyn from outside while the damned assassin struck from within. Once they took Peregrinno and found
a way for them to get past the coral reefs, then the country and all its resources would be his for the taking.

When can the fleet be launched? he asked, measuring the distances between Peregrinno, Port Moselian, and
the Capital of Wendlyn.

At your command, highness.

Once they conquered Wendlyn, hed have to work fast to ensure its utter submissionhed have his finest
scholars invade their libraries in search of the prime locations

Wendlyn would fall just as all the others did.

And then

Dispatch them immediately. And tell the soldiers to increase the number of those sneaking into Peregrinno
each nightI want at least two thousand by the time the fleet reaches the chosen gathering area.

Perringtonn bowed and rushed from the room to send out the kings orders. The King of Adarlan pulled forth
a map of his conquered territories and grinned as he saw the triangle he had traced in red across it. Outside, the
wind howled and beat against the glass spires of the palace, pleading for revenge and release.

Yes, Wendlyn would fall like all the others.

Celaena Sardothien awoke smiling, her mind still clinging to the memory of Dorian DeHavilliards warm embrace. She
buried her face in her pillow and deeply inhaled, trying desperately to hold onto his scent. She could almost feel him
there; she could almost hear his heart beating. It had been the most fantastic dream

He was just as handsome and charming as she remembered himand all of her doubts, all of her fears about
him had been wiped away

He loved her.
 He had told herhe had affirmed it with his kisses and his embrace and the wonderful, wonderful security she
had felt in his arms

Celaena tried to will her mind back into that dream world, but she knew it was gone. Had it been of Fae
making? Had that been the wish that Queen Maeve had granted her? Had it even been real?

Her brows contracted as she felt a sudden pressure on her chest. What if she had just made it up? What if it
wasnt real at alljust some strange creation of her lonely heart?

But I remember our conversationI remember everything as if it had happened in real lifeNo dream ever
feels like that.

She exhaled through her nose and turned over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

But do I want it to be real?

What does it really mean to have the Crown Prince of Adarlan in love with me? What would I do if I were to
ever

Her face contorted as she felt a stab of pain to her abdomen. A groan escaped through her lips, and she
doubled up, clutching her gut.

Youve got to be kidding me.

Almost in response, her stomach twisted again, and she clenched her eyes shut. Again and again her insides
cramped, and soon Celaena found herself to be coated in sweat and absolutely miserable. She could barely move, let
alone breathe, but as she felt the telltale signs of an approaching onslaught of blood, she tried her best to get out of
the bed. She needed some way to prevent herself from staining everything

She rolled onto the floor and lay there for several minutes, trying to steady the agony that was writhing in her
stomach. Celaena was practically past Cindrillions bed when the door swung open and Cindrillion appeared, gasping
as her eyes fell upon the fetal form of her friend.

Whats the matter? Are you ill?

Celaena raised her head and winced, a gargle of pain escaping her throat in reply before she dropped her face
onto the hard wooden floor with a clunk.

Whats wrong? Do you need to vomit? Do you need a doctor?

Celaena rocked her head back and forth on the floor, her teeth clenched. It felt as if someone had taken a
corkscrew and jammed it into her abdomenand was now trying to remove all her organs with it.

Moon, she gasped, time.

Cindrillions eyes widened, and she let out a little noise of exclamation. IIll get you what you needTry to
get into bed. Ill have hot tea and blankets and yourliners up here as soon as I can. If you need anything, ask Gus
or Drusella or one of the other mice.

By the time Celaena had crawled back into bed and had squirmed and groaned for a while, Cindrillion was
back upstairs, her arms laden with strips of thick cloth and an enormous cup filled to the brim with steaming liquid.

Try to put one of these on, if you can, Cindrillion said gently, setting down the cup on the bed stand
between the two beds as she handed Celaena a long strip of cloth. If you think you need more, just tell me.
Celaena nodded and took the inch-thick fabric before she staggered behind the dressing screen to put it on.

I had Leighanna add a few herbs and things to your tea that should soothe the painor at least put you to
sleep long enough for the cramping to subside.
 Celaena hobbled back into her bed and collapsed, drawing her blankets closely around her. Her skin was pale
and shiny, her lips void of color. Sometimes she really hated being a woman. She whimpered as another onslaught
of contractions wracked her belly.

Really hated being a woman.

A bell began ringing and a snarl escaped Celaenas lips.

Cindrillion leapt to her feet. Ive got to run, but drink this before I go She helped Celaena into a drinkable
position and raised the cup to Celaenas lips for her. Celaena drank what was offered; and, upon finding it the most
delicious thing she had ever tasted, chugged it like fine mead.

Celaena wiped her mouth on her sleeve and sank back into the embrace of her pillows. Cindrillion frowned.
You probably shouldnt have drunken that all at once, but I suppo

The bell rang furiously. Ill check back on you later. Tell them if you want me, she jerked her head at the
mice and bird cages in the corner of the room, and Celaena moaned, or just yellreally loud.

The assassin shut her eyes against the pain, and the sound of the door closing filled the air. She felt the
warmth of the drink rushing down into her body, and was filled with strange contentment as she suddenly passed
out.

The sunlight that streamed into the room when she awoke told her that it was midday. Celaena placed a
hand on her abdomen, bracing herself for the stabs of pain, but found only a dull ache that sapped her strength.
There was an unpleasant smell in the air, and upon raising her head she let out a gargle of disgust at what she saw.
The harsh noon sunlight was streaming into the iron cages that lay near the window, slowly cooking the dead animals
that lay inside.

Celaena rolled her eyes and covered her head with her blanket, trying to fall back asleep again. Shed have
to throw those away before

You cant exactly throw away Cindrillions friends, can you? Itd be pretty awful if someone just tossed
Arobynn or Dorian or Chaol out the window, wouldnt it?

But those are people, not rotting animals.

Celaena let out a deep breath and probably would have fallen asleep again were it not for the crashing noise
from the doorway.

She pulled down the comforter as far as her eyes and her brows contracted as she saw Luca burst into the
room.

Go away, she snarled, but only a muffled jumble came out from beneath the blanket.

He tossed his hair out of his eyes and grinned at her. Cindrillion says its your moontime.

Celaena groaned and pulled the covers up again.

They were quickly yanked away from her face. You were supposed to meet me this morning, but I guess I
can forgive you if youre suffering from

He sniffed the air and his nose crinkled.

What is that smell?

Celaena lifted a heavy arm and pointed at the cages. Roast mice.

Luca covered his mouth, narrowing his eyes. Thats disgusting. Ive got to tell her to throw those things out
and get new ones. Or maybe Ill just have some of the faeries replace th
 Celaena grabbed the blanket from his hands and hid beneath it again.

He sighed and sat down on the bed. Is there anything I can get you?

Yes, came a disgruntled voice from beneath the sheets. Leave.

She heard him laugh. You should have some more of Leighannas brew. Do you need to change your liner?

Celaena flushed deeply and her eyes widened. Excuse me? she cried, thankful she was still hidden.

He patted his hip and clicked his tongue. I didnt know women could be so uptight about their moontimes.
Stephaenya always lets me know if she needs anything like that. Its nothing to be ashamed about, you know.

Celaena threw back the blankets, her stomach turning over in protest. I know its nothing to be ashamed
aboutIm the woman here!

He raised an eyebrow at her ruffled hair and then smiled.

Celaena scowled. Youre a maleyoure not supposed to be useful in this kind of situation. Im surprised
youre not running out of the room at high speed.

He shrugged. In Wendlyn, we appreciate a womans gift to give life. While I may not know what its like
firsthand, I can guess that its a pretty miserable couple of days. If it were me

If it were you? She couldnt believe what she was hearing.

Yes. If it were me, Id have everyone waiting on me hand and foot.

She rolled her eyes and dropped back onto the pillows. Go back to reaping your grain or barely or whatever
it is youre harvesting.

He was silent for a minute, and she gave him an expectant look.

That means leave.

Are you strong enough to walk? he said suddenly, looking at the mouse cages.

Probably. I dont know. A corner of her mouth twisted upwards.

Do you think you could make it to the forest?

What? she snapped.

Well, theres this place in the forest, not too far off This little clearing

I should be in bed, not in the middle of the wilderness!

No, noits this clearing that is filled with the softest moss youll ever sit or walk on. It feels as if youre
lying in the most comfortable and warm bed in the world. Its a faerie glen, but they hardly use it. Theres a little
spring right near by, and its really not too far of a walkI can bring you there if you like.

She clicked her tongue. And why should I go there when Im perfectly fine in this nice little bed?

A bed that creaks and has a lumpy mattress and rotting animals five feet away is hardly perfectly fine.

Its not worth the travel.

 He pulled her into a sitting position. I think it is. Thats where Stephaenya and Cindrillion always go when
its their moontime. Something about the faerie glen makes their pain and exhaustion go away.

I dont want to deal with magick right now, she said, but didnt lie back down.

He shook his head. Its not magick, idiotits just some kind of soothing presence or something. Anyway,
Ill bring you there now.

Im in my nightgown!

Youd prefer to wear that wool dress?

She stuck out her tongue. Im too tired to walk there.

Ill carry you then. Just stop looking for excuses.

Im really fine right here. Away from the forest and faeries and Fae.

Luca opened his mouth, but then shut it again for a moment, his brows contracting. Did you say Fae?

Yes, she said.

Youmet one of the Fae?

Celaena nodded her head. Unfortunately. He was rude and arrogant and absolutely pompous. I was
swimming in this pond and he appeared and kicked me outafter spying on me as a bird when I was naked!

Luca tipped back his head and let out a laugh. You invaded one of the Faes secret places and didnt expect
to be asked to leave?

I wasnt asked to leave! I was ordered to leave! And then he sent this miniature rainstorm after me that
chased me all the way home and I was sopping wet and miserable and I will not go into that forest for a good while.

Luca laughed again, his brown eyes shining. What did you expect?

A little courtesy!

Well, I can assure you that this place is not owned by the Faeits too close to human civilization. You must
have been really far into the forest to come into contact with one of them! Ive only seen one onceI was eleven and
I got lostand this Fae woman came and told me where the path was. She was very beautiful, but she terrified me
like nothing else Ive ever encountered.

Well, this one was handsome, but not too terrifying. Just very irritating.

Luca raised her to her feet, holding her around the shoulders. If he bothers you, you can always flay him
alive.

What? How did you know that I could?

Since you are part Fae and all.

Oh.

Are Fae allowed to do that to each other?

Luca shook his head. Well, no. They have some sort of ancient code about fighting each otherits very
formal, nothing like the random backstabbing that we humans do.

So killing him on the spot isnt allowed?

 Between Fae it isnt. But between human and Fae

But you just said Im part

He doesnt know that, does he?

It was Celaenas turn to laugh. She winced as her stomach twisted in response, but her grin didnt fade.

But you probably shouldnt kill him. It might bring up some complications. If you holler loud enough, Ill
come running.

What about the harvesting?

For you, fair lady, no harvest is too important.

How gallant of you.

Its all in a knights work.

If you trained a bit harder, it just might be.

He rolled his eyes and they began to walk out of the room, slowly making their way towards the moss bed
that awaited her.

Celaena lay on the wonderful moss that lined the clearing floor, listening to the sound of the babbling brook
nearby. Luca had been rightthis was a paradise. The air was sweet and warm, and the moss was so soft and
cushioned that it felt as if she were lying on a bed of velvet in the royal palace of Adarlan.

She slept on and off all afternoon, occasionally awakening to stare up at the canopy of leaves or to admire
her golden hairs contrast with the deep green of the moss, or just to listen to the sounds of the forest around her.
She didnt know what she would do if someone actually came alongher nightgown was made of silk and lace (a
treasure she had kept from Adarlan), and she knew that if she moved more than a foot, a waterfall of blood would
probably explode out of her.

Unfortunately, someone finally did come along. And it was definitely not Luca.

Crown Prince Galan Ashryver nearly trampled over her with his sleek stallion, and let out a cry as he saw the
woman scramble away from beneath his horse.

Gods above, Im so sorryI had no idea that anyone would be

His mouth dropped open as he saw her, his eyes lighting up. Its you!

She stared at him, and tried to cover herself the best she could. Why are you always disturbing me? she
snarled, checking to make sure that she hadnt spilled on anything. This was the young man she was supposed to
kill. She remembered her (dream) conversation with Dorian and her anger faded as he dismounted his horse and
rushed over to her.

Are you hurt? he asked, taking her hand into one of his. An uncomfortable blush spread across her face
and she pulled her hand back.

Im finejustwell, youve ruined my nap and my clearing! Look at thisyour stupid horse trampled and
squashed all of the moss!

Its just moss! He exclaimed, and helped to pull her to her feet. She rose as skillfully as she could without
doing anything that might stain her nightgown and embarrass her further.

Yes, but the most soft and warm and wonderful moss youll ever lay on.
 He glanced at her attire and then grinned. Is this your home? Or bedroom, more precisely?

For the moment, she said dryly.

I didnt know that young ladies went about sleeping in the woods in suchattire.

She growled. They dont. I just dont have anything else to wear.

How about clothes?

She gave him a playful shove and then pointed at his horse. Leave.

He looked genuinely wounded. Do you know that Ive been looking for you for the past few days? And no
one has been able to tell me who you are. Im beginning to think youre a ghost.

If ghosts still have a moontime, Ill be damned forever, she muttered, and he blinked.

What?

Shit. I hadnt meant to say that.

NothingI justShit.

What?

It was her turn to look incredulous, and then she burst into laughter. I didnt mean it like thatI she
clutched her stomach as she doubled over with hysterics. Its my moontime, thats allI didnt mean that

Oh! Ohare you feeling all right? Do you need anything? Can I bring you somewhere?

Hadnt she had this same conversation with Dorian DeHavilliard a few months ago? Her smiled faded and a
strange light filled her eyes. The parallels between them were uncanny. No, she said quietly. Im fine right here.

Youre not appropriately dresseditll be night soon, and

He swiftly undid his brooch, removed his sweeping red cape, and wrapped it around her before she could
respond. She looked down at his hands, which held it closed in front of her, and took the fabric from him, realizing
how close he now was to her.

The blush on her cheeks deepened, and she kept her eyes on the ground. She was going to failshe wasnt
going to be able to kill him. Why did he have to be the Crown Prince? Why hadnt he just told her who he was at
first, so she could have done it without any qualms? She stared at the brooch on his jerkin and suddenly recognized it
as the royal seal of Wendlyn. If she hadnt been so distracted by how much he looked like DorianIf he had just been
man enough to tell her who he was

II really have been looking for you for almost four days now, he said quietly, putting a hand on her arm.
She could feel his breath on her forehead. After Beltaen, I couldnt stop thinking about

Anger flashed through her and she snapped her head up, crashing the crown of her skull into his face. He
clutched his nose and ducked away, a groan escaping from his throat. Whyd you do that? he exclaimed, his eyes
wide.

Her brows narrowed and she barred her teeth. Why didnt you tell me that youre the Crown Prince?

His face went red and he stared at her in dismay. II

I mean, of all the people in the world, why did you choose to hide who you were from me? What did you
think I was going to do? Kill you?
 Well, yes.

He straightened up and shook his head. II dont know. I honestly dont know. Its just that you were so
snappish and mean and oddly charming to me on the day we met, and in every meeting afterwards, and I figured that
you would treat medifferently if you knew who I was.

Differently? As in, I would have slit your throat?

Yes, differently. I dont knowI was afraid you wouldnt want to speak to me or youd laugh at me or youd
suddenly act like one of those silly girls

She snarled and took a step towards him. You actually think Id act like one of your courtiers?

He threw his arms in the air. I dont know! I dont know anything about you! All I know is that youre
smart and sassy and beautiful and I cant explain why Im so attracted to you!

She burst into a coughing fit. You are?

He frowned. Dont play dumb. You wouldnt have run away on Beltaen if you hadnt known. I practically
told you. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. Thatis why you ran away, isnt it?

They deserved to die, Dorian. Galan does not.

Yes, she said. Thats why Iwait, I did not run away!

He smiled weakly. You did. But its not a problem nowI mean, now that Ive found you again.

Galan, she warned.

Tell me your name, he pleaded, and reached for her hand.

Hell use any failure as an excuse to put you in shackles againto hang you. Gods above, I dont want you
to die! Please, Celaenayouve got to kill him. Do it now before you become more attached Please.

Dorian loved herand she was doing this with the Crown Prince of Wendlyn? What an awful wretch she was.
Dorian deserves better than this from the woman he loves

She searched for something to say, and felt a wave of guilt as she spoke her next words. Im sorry, but I
cant do this. Youre the Crown Prince of Wendlyn.

He stiffened, and then slowly released her hand with a sigh. I knew this would happen, he breathed. He
moved towards his horse and seized its reins. How did you find out? he asked, turning around.

The brooch is pretty obvious, she partially lied. She stared into his eyes for a moment and smiled slightly.
His face contracted and he stepped towards her once more.

Please, just tell me your nameI need to know who you are.

The desperation in his voice made her wince inwardly. She wasnt going to kill him, but she couldnt get
involved with him any furtherfriendship or anything more. She couldnt deny the connection between them, but
after the dream with Dorian, she couldnt deny that connection either

Theres no point, she said coldly. He stared at her, his face darkening.

I dont believe you, he said, a slight edge to his voice. I think youre using this as an excuse.

Shouldnt you be in your castle, anyway? What are you doing here?
 He shook his head. If you must know, Im on a national bachelor tourmy parents sent me out to find a
bride.

Her stomach churned.

Theyre sending me around to each region to visit with all the noble familiesthis region was first. Ill be
leaving in a few days to go onto whichever one my advisor chooses next.

Which explains why you were with the Baroness and her awful daughters.

Sounds like a barrelful of fun.

Please, dont joke like that. He licked his lips and looked up at the canopy. I know that we barely know
each otherand that Im acting so ridiculously because of some feeling in my gut, butI feel like I know you, like
theres some sort of link between us. I cant define it, I cant explain it. He looked at her with eyes full of fire. But
Ill be damned if I let you run off without a fight.

If you knew who I am she began, her voice beginning to tremble.

If youd just tell me who you are, I wouldnt have to act like such an idiot!

She sank down onto the moss, unable to support herself any longer. Celaena raised her head to look at him,
her eyes full of pity and regret as she told him the one thing she knew would send him away. Im from Adarlan.

He blinked then shook his head as if he hadnt heard her correctly.

Yes, Galan. I came here from Adarlan about a month ago.

Youbut youyou seem to fit in here.

She smiled sadly. I know.

He moved from his horse and sat down beside her. Why did you come here?

To kill you.

I hadI couldnt remain in Adarlan anymore. It was too corrupt, too dangerous for me.

You left your family and friends and everything you own?

My family is dead and I have few friendsfewer still that would miss me.

I find that hard to believe.

Well, believe it.

So, what exactly are you? Noblewoman, slave girl, princess?

Her mouth almost popped open, but she kept a cool face. It doesnt matter anymore. Im just not the kind
of person you want to get involved with, thats all.

If youd tell me, I might be able to make that decision for myself.

She looked at him beseechingly and he sighed. Very well, I shant ask you anymore, he said.

Celaena faintly smiled. Thank you.

There was an awkward silence.

 Galan cleared his throat and stared at the ground in front of him. When you said that there wasnt someone,
you were lying, werent you?

She watched him from the corner of her eye. What?

On Beltaenwhen you said you werent involved with anyone, you were lying to me.

How di

Someone in Adarlan, correct?

How in Hell did you know?

What makes you say that?

Because you kept on fondling that ring when you spoke of Adarlan. Thats not exactly your typical family-
heirloom kind of ring, is it? It was a gift from the man that you were thinking of when you lied to me. He sounded
so disappointed.

But his skills of perception were unnerving.

It was a gift, but it was

So youre someone of high ranking. Or at least your lover is. Those are expensive stones, and the
craftsmanship is exquisite.

She smiled and looked down at her ring.

What part of Adarlan are you from?

Renaril.

Ah, the glass city.

Only if you consider the castle to encompass it all. Celaena pulled Galans cloak tighter around her. Its
only the castle thats made out of glassand even then its just a tasteless addition to the original stone castle.

So the city walls and buildings arent glass?

I dont think soI actually dont know, but it appeared to be mostly a stone citywith very nice windows.

Thats very disappointingit takes away all the glamour of the image. He pulled at the moss. So, did you
leave because of your magick?

Celaenas heart gave a huge leap and she snapped her head towards him. What?

Your magickyou had to leave because of it, correct? Since its banned in Adarlan

Her heart was choking her throat. Its not just bannedits vanished, she said in a strained voice. And I
dont have any magick.

He rolled his eyes. You dont have to hide it anymore, you know. I can smell it on you.

Smell what?

Your magick.

She crinkled her nose. Does itsmell bad?

 He laughed. Of course notits not exactly a smell, its more like a sense.

How long have you been able tosense it on me?

He considered this for a moment, his eyes scanning the canopy. Actually, now that Ive come to think of it,
today is the first time Ive been able to detect it in youyou must have been concealing it pretty well if you were able
to hide it from me.

I dont use magick though.

Perhaps you shouldits very useful.

For what?

He shrugged. Lighting things when its dark, fighting fell beasts, picking up your room

Thats nothing a candle, a sword, and a servant cant do.

He rolled his eyes. I see Adarlans brainwashed you well.

I have not been brainwashed.

If you werent, then youd know what a necessity and joy it is to have magick at your disposal.

Celaena shifted in her mossy seat, her heart beating hard as she fought to keep the memories down. II
havent used magick since I was eight. You must be sensing something else.

Thats impossible. But your scent is different than what Im used to. I cant quite define it he leaned
closer to her, his brows narrowing. I can sense some Fae and earth magick in you, but also

Their eyes met, eyes so similar in color and design that you would have sworn they were brother and sister,
and Galans breath caught in his throat.

Who are you? he whispered, wonder and fear reflecting through his sapphire eyes.

Celaena stood up. Ive told you already, Im

NoI know you. He rose to his feet.

Waves of chills ran down her arms and she moved away from him.

I must bring you to my father, hed

No!

They both paused, wide-eyed. She hadnt meant to say it: it had come out before she could think through
what he had just offered her.

Youre related to me, arent you?

No, Im not.

You have to beyou have Ashryver eyes and you have royal magickI tasted it in you. Its Ashryver
magickmagick that only runs in the veins of my kin. What are you doing here, hiding in the forest?

I told you: Im from Adarlan. Im here for reasons that are none of your business, she snarled.
 You wouldnt be so defensive if you werent a member of my family. What are youa removed cousin of
sorts?

Im not related to you! She hid her trembling hands beneath the cloak.

But dont you see? That explains the link between usit wasnt one of true love, but one of family and
blood!

She sneered at him. Does that mean youll leave me alone now?

He frowned. It means that youve got to come with me.

Im not going anywhere. She eyed his sword and hunting dagger, wondering which one she could reach
fastest.

Are you going to run me through if I force you to go with me?

She looked at him in disbelief. You must make one hell of a huntsman.

Stop avoiding the subject. Just tell me your namesay it and Ill go. There was a light of hope and
desperation in his eyes that scared her.

Im not telling you anythingmagick and family are not a part of my life anymore.

But they were at one point.

Seventeen years ago!

His face paled so quickly that she thought he was going to be ill. Did you say seventeen years? he asked
quietly.

Nowewe cant be. He cant know me.

It was a slip of the tongue, she said hastily. I meant to say

No, it wasnt! He grabbed onto her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes. You were eight when magick
was banned and when your family died and when you were also thought to be dead by the rest of the world, correct?

She shook her head, her blood turning into ice. No, she said faintly, backing away from him. No.

A horseman galloping through the woods, his sword shining like the moon

She backed into a tree, her mind reeling.

Drowning in an icy river, the surface miles above, her weak legs kicking hard to reach the air

Stop, she gasped, closing her eyes.

her choice will save or damn us all.

Darkness encompassing herAwakening to a warm bed and Arobynns smiling face

Adarlans assassin.

Choice is the essence of our characters.

I love you.
 You must leave soonbefore its too late againBefore he finally catches you.

Celaenas eyes flew open and she stared at Galan, a breeze sweeping through into the clearing.

I know what I could do. And I wouldnt do it. It wouldnt work. Not now, not ever.

Get out of here, she growled, the moss beneath her feet turning brown. She felt everything within her
begin to rise to the surface.

He stepped back towards his horse, his hand reaching for his sword. Youre safe here, he said cautiously.
Theres no one to run from anymore

I will never be safe, she snapped, and the trees groaned in reply as a cold wind strangled their branches.
Not so long as the King of Adarlan sits on his throne.

Fear and anger throbbing in her veins, Celaena suddenly did something she had never done before: she
seized the voices and images in her head and froze them alive.

Get out, she snarled. She could feel it nowfeel its seductive song and power Everything she had
repressed, everything she had been so ashamed of It whispered to her, begging to lash out.

Galan swiftly mounted his horse, his face pallid. He watched her for a moment, gripping the reins tightly.

Kill him nowrip him to pieces.

A dark smile spread across her face, and Celaena moved closer to his stallion.

Then something happened that she did not expect. A small card appeared out the air around the Crown
Prince, and floated towards her.

Immediately the cold and wind stopped, the song of her magick muted, and her muscles relaxed as she took
the card from where it hung in the air.

Its an invitation, he said, his voice shaking slightly. To my fathers Grand Celebration. ImIm to
announce my bride there.

Her mouth dropped slightly open, and she wondered if he were all right in the head.

I know that youre here for some reason, and that youre afraid, butBut I want you to know that should you
need anyone, or anything his eyes were shining and misty, I would be more than willing to help.

Celaena raised her eyes to his face, and found him to be smiling at her with a sad joy written across his
features.

I would understand if you didnt comefor more reasons than one. But if you do, I would be delighted
more delighted than I can possibly say.

Celaena didnt say anything, and looked down at the invitation again, dread filling her stomach.

Galan waited for a minute more, memorizing the lines of her face before he forced his horse into motion,
galloping away from Aelin Galathynius as fast as he could.

Celaena Sardothien stalked through the streets, the city of Renaril bathed in the blood of the sunset. She
was no more than a dark shadow, her black cape and hood concealing her identity. Ahead of her ran her prey,
darting through alleys and over walls in a futile attempt to escape her. This wasnt a politician or a royalthis man
was one of them, one of the many assassins that lurked around Renaril.
 A ghostly whistle echoed in the air, signaling where she would find the man. Two more followed from
buildings overlooking the streets, and Celaena hurried her pace.

She climbed up onto a crumbling wall and nimbly walked its length, scanning the streets below. Another
whistlethis time from the west. Celaena Sardothien leapt onto another wall and headed in the direction of the
noise.

She saw the assassin before he saw her: the foolish man running at top speed down an alleyway that she
knew had a dead-end. She crouched on the top of the wall like a cat, peering down the alley as the assassin
approached. He practically ran into the wall before stopping, not even noticing the spider that sat above him. He
looked around frantically, from left to right and forward, a sharp knife appearing in his shaking hands.

A noise came from his right, and he turned to face the corner of the alley, calling out to whoever had made
the noise. Only red light answered him as Celaena Sardothien silently dropped down to the ground beside him and
leaned casually against the wall.

Panting, the man turned back to face the open end of the alley, and gave a cry and a jump as he saw the
dark figure standing beside him.

What do you want? he stammered, holding the knife in front of him like a candle.

Celaena cocked her head to the side. You violated The Code. You know the rules.

II didnt mean to.

Im sure you didnt mean to steal that bag of gold from your friends corpse either.

Without further word, he darted forward and ran down the alley, into the blazing light of the sun.

Celaena smiled, rolling her eyes, and gave him a second or two before the final round of the hunt really
began. Drawing her two favorite daggers, Adarlans assassin let out a feral snarl before she raced down the street
after him.

This man had broken the code of assassins by killing another of their kind without provocation or hirehe had
killed his friend just to steal his money. They were above that kind of petty murderthere was no need for such an
action. It was disgraceful and pathetic.

Arobynn had sent her after him, to be the sword of justice, and the other members of the guild had been hidden in
buildings that lined the streets to be her maps and guides.

Around corners and down streets they ran like cat and mouse, those who saw them in the streets ducked into
doorways or pressed themselves against walls to avoid contact with the frantic man and the shadow of night that
chased him. He turned down another alleyway and a few whistles told her a way to intersect the end of the street
and catch her prey. He actually thought he could outrun her.

Idiot.

She leapt onto another wall and hurtled down another street, leaping from fence to fence, swinging across laundry
lines and flying between buildings. She could hear the man calling out for help as she made a diagonal line for the
streets intersection.

Celaena dropped down in front of the archway that led into the alley that the man was about to fly out of, and the
assassin skidded to a halt as she rose from her crouch.

Shit, he gasped, and turned on his heel and ran in the direction he had come. Celaena watched him for a moment
and then stalked forward like a panther, each of her steps sounding like a Drum of Doom to the man she chased.

She herded him into an alleyway that she knew was a dead-end, and grinned from beneath her mask as she watched
him try to scale the wall at its end.
Hurling one of her daggers at him, Celaena smirked at the scream of pain that followed as it buried itself in one of his
arms and into the stone beneath it. The doomed assassin turned as far as he could without moving his impaled arm,
his tear and pain-streaked face burning in the dying light.

Please, he pleaded, Ill give you anythingmoney, jewels, whatever you desire.

Thats funny, she said with a laugh, I thought you didnt have anythat was why you killed your friend, wasnt it?

You crazy bitch, he spat.

Celaena casually walked up to him, and buried the dagger deeper into his arm before he could react. He screamed in
terror and agony, and she hit him across the face, breaking his jaw in two. With a snarl, she pinned him to the wall.

You broke the code you swore uponno jewels or gold can mend that, she said over his screaming. A life for a life
is the only cure.

I swear I wont do it aga

His words were cut short as she took her other dagger and slashed it across his throat, spraying his lifes blood onto
her chest and mask. He deserved to die.

Maybe next time, she hissed, and withdrew, removing her dagger from his arm as she wiped the other clean on her
cloak.

His body slumped to the ground, his eyes still wide.

A sense of fatigue washed over her as Celaena walked out of the alley and headed down the streets that would lead to
her flat. Shed tell Arobynn how this went later. All she wanted was a bath and something to eat.

You didnt have to play with him for so long, you know, said a voice from beside her.

Hes dead, thats all that matters, Symeth.

Im just saying that you could have had a bit of decency and just thrown a damn dagger in his back from the second
you saw him.

She clicked her tongue dismissively. He could have had a bit of decency and just not murdered his friend for gold.

He was a lesser assassinbarely part of the guild. They both were.

But still part of ithe violated The Code and he deserved what he got. She began to walk faster, but he grabbed
onto her arm and pulled her to a stop.

Whats wrong with you these days? Youre on-edge and he grabbed onto her hood and threw it back. Gods
above, take off that ridiculous mask. I want to talk to you.

She began to walk again, yanking her arm out of his grasp. I dont feel like talking.

He snatched her arm again, pulling it so hard that it hurt. Well, youre going to. He removed her mask before she
could react and stared into her eyes.

Theres something wrong.

Theres nothing wrong, she said, pulling her hair free of her cloak. I just want to go home now.

She pried his fingers from her and started forward.

Fine. Symeth walked beside her, his eyes making frequent visits to her face.
You look tired, he said after a while.

Im fine.

They reached their building and went in, climbing up the two flights of stairs to their flat. It was a beautiful apartment
filled with expensive furnishings and exotic scentsfar too exquisite for their location in Renaril. She took off her
cloak and dropped it on the large oak table in their foyer, scattering her two daggers and other weapons beside it.

What would you like for dinner?

I dont knowIm not hungry.

Lets go out somewhereThe Heights perhaps?

She gave him a sharp look. I told youIm not hungry. Besides, I dont want to go out tonight.

Then Ill make you something. Youve got to eat.

I dont have an appetite.

Once you get out of that blood-soaked clothing you might. There was an edge to his voice that warned her that his
fiery temper was about to break loose. A snarl appeared on her lips.

Ill do as I please. I was fine before you came along, and Ill be fine right now.

She opened the large glass doors to their living room, heading straight past the gilded couches and deeply colored
rugs towards their bedroom. He followed after her, but she slammed the bedroom door in his face. There was a
growl, but she was halfway into the adjoining bathroom before the door burst open and he charged in.

Im taking a bath, she announced, but before she could slam the door, he put his foot in the way, his eyes burning.

Youre not getting away as easily as that.

Im. Taking. A. Bath.

Im. Not. Leaving. Until. You. Tell. Me. Whats. Wrong.

She pointed at the door. Get out, she barked, and pumped water into the tub.

He instead sat down against the door and ran a hand through his blond hair. I told you: Im not leaving.

She hissed and began to unbutton her tunic. Fine.

He watched her while she undressed, violently throwing each article of clothing at him as she removed it. When she
was naked and in the steaming bathtub, he stood up and sat on the rim, staring down at her.

Weve known each other since we were childrenwhy cant you tell me whats on your mind? he said gently.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the tub. Im tired, Symeth. Not just physicallybut
mentally. Im tired of all of this.

He reached out a hand and ran it across her brow. I knowso am I.

She opened her eyes and sighed. Dyou everwant to leave? Not just Renaril, but all of this?

His brows knotted together. What do you mean by that?

I dont knowits just thatWell, I realized today, after I had killed whatever his name was, thatI, she bit down on
her lip. I just felt so fatiguedI wondered for a moment if this is what I really want to be spending my life doingif
this was what I was meant to do. Because, Symethit doesnt feel like it is.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. I dont think any child wanted to grow up to be an assassin, he
murmured onto her skin.

She sat up and looked at him squarely. I think you need to know something, Symeth.

He raised an eyebrow. What?

Something about my past.

What about it? Ive known you my entire lifewhat else could I possibly need to know?

She dunked her head under the water and washed out her hair before stepping out of the tub and wrapping herself in
the robe that Symeth handed her.

Im talking about the life I had before I met you or Arobynnabout the life I gave up.

They moved out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, the sheer curtains of the windows and canopied bed blowing
in the gentle twilight breeze. I thought you were an orphan, he said cautiously.

She took his hand in hers and kissed him. I think you had better sit down before I say anything more, she said, and
pushed him to a take a seat on the bed. This was her choiceshe needed to tell him this. She needed someone to
know other than Arobynn and a few of his closest friends. Someone who she could count on if she died. Someone
who she cared about.

Celaena, what are you

My name, she said gravely as she took a seat beside him, is Aelin Galathynius. I am

Celaena Sardothien awoke with a jolt to the feeling that she was hanging upside down from somethingand being
jostled around rather roughly.

Stay seatedyoull fall off if you move, a cold voice said.

Celaena snarled, her muscles tensing, but a slender hand kept her slung across what seemed to be a saddle. Youre
in no dangeranymore, at least.

Celaena raised her head to see a long and feral face looking down at herthe face of a womanthe face of a Fae.

What are you

I was sent here by Queen Maeve. To save your foolish hide.

Celaenas head throbbed. Had she been hearing correctly? Is this a dream? she groaned.

No.

Celaena tried to look at where she was headed, but found only the dark of night around her. She had fallen asleep to
the sound of soft singing some time after Galan had left her. He knew who she waswho she used to be. She felt
sick to her stomach.

Can I at least get out of this uncomfortable position? she asked, raising her head. The Fae woman said nothing, but
pulled her horse to a stop so that the assassin could properly take a seat in front of her.

Celaena looked at the Fae woman, enthralled by the ancient wisdom she saw in the womans eyes. Cant you just
take me back to the chateau?
It is too dangerous, was her reply as she clicked her tongue for the horse to move. There are things in this forest
that would find a young maiden sleeping in a glen a most wonderful mealor dessert.

Celaena rolled her eyes. I can deal with men, thank you very much.

So can I, but it is not men that made my Queen worry tonight. It is the dark of the moon, and creatures hunt freely
and boldly in this timecreatures that even Fae hesitate to face. You should be grateful for such consideration.

Id be grateful if youd just turn this thing around and bring me back to the edge of the forest, Celaena snarled.

One does not turn down an invitation from Queen Maeve.

I do. Celaena looked at the endless darkness around her and barred her teeth. Ive got to get up early tomorrow,
and Ive got my moontime, and Id really prefer if I didnt have any late-night encounters with any of your kind.

It is not my decision to makeyou have been summoned, and you will answer. I am only the messenger.

Celaena moved to jump off the horse, but a firm hand held her on. Once you get off of this beast, the ill things that
prowl these woods will smell youand devour you.

Im not a childI can fend for myself.

Im also Adarlans assassin, you pompous woman.

No oneimmortal or mortalcan fend for themselves in these woods during the dark of the moon.

An unearthly howl rippled through the forest, sending chills down Celaenas spine. Two more replied, and Celaena
moved back towards the center of the horse.

Listen to them sing, the Fae woman said. They call to each otherthe creatures of the night.

Celaena swallowed hard and drew Galans cloak tighter around her. How long until we reachwherever were
going?

Do you see that faint glow ahead?

Celaena peered into the darkness and saw nothing.

No.

Even in the dark, she could see the exasperated look on the womans face. Well, that lightshould you gain the
ability to see itis Doranelle, the Fae city.

I didnt know that there was a city in these woods.

Its hardly a city in what you mortals have come to define it as. Its a concentrated area of homes and the Fae, living
peacefully together.

As they headed deeper and deeper into the woods, a faint gray light began to glow in the distance, and the trees grew
larger and taller. I see it now, Celaena said in a hushed tone. She could hear distant singing.

Its about time.

Celaena clicked her tongue, but held back a sharp retort.

They rode on in silence until the silver light of Doranelle enveloped them and guided them inwards. Celaena felt
them pass through a barrieran invisible wall that she knew kept out fell beastsand uninvited mortals.

As they entered into the city, Celaenas breath caught in her throat at the sights that she saw.
There were trees stretching upwards as far as the eye could see, and wrapped around each of them were staircases
and homes, some carved straight into the living wood itself.

Along the floor of the city were the most beautifully carved and crafted homes and walkways and arches that she had
ever seen, fitting so well into the surrounding environment that it was as if this place had been built around the
woods, not over it. She could hear sad, yet peaceful singing in the air, and all of her worries and nerves seemed to
melt away.

They headed down a large street, and an overwhelming sense of time and wisdom seemed to press down upon
Celaena as Fae lined the streets, staring at them. They were shining and beautiful, and filled with such unearthly
grace and light that she felt dirty and foul.

The woman who sat behind her on the horse took no notice of them and stared straight ahead, directing the horse
towards the massive tree that lay at the center of the city, its branches sparkling with sapphire and ruby flowers that
had a light of their own.

As they passed, some of the Fae drew back in wonder, and a whisper went down the street that Evaelien Ashryver
had finally come back to Doranelle. But there were some who knew Celaena for who she was, and felt such pity and
joy that they could not help the tears that welled in their eyes.

Up through the Fae city they made their way, and the assassin was silent and motionless for fear that it was all just a
fragile dream.

When they reached what appeared to be a set of steps carved into the roots of the great tree, the Fae woman stopped
her horse and dismounted, helping the assassin down.

This is where I leave you. Follow those stairs through the tree and she will find you. The Fae woman mounted her
horse again.

But I

She will find you, she said, and turned her horse away, disappearing down a path.

Celaena looked around, still unsure of whether or not this was a dream, and walked up the long flight of stairs,
entranced by the jeweled flowers that hung above her. The tree was almost as big as a palace, and its branches
stretched out over much of the city.

She followed the stairs into the trunk of the tree, where she found a glowing passageway that stretched from one end
of the trunk to the other. It was as if stars had been imbedded in the wood itself, and the streams of water that ran
down its sides were like curtains of silver. Celaena looked upwards to find that the trunk was not hollow, but filled
with bridges and houses that were carved into and stretched across the massive inside.

An orb of blue light whizzed by her head and then stopped short. This way, said a high-pitched voice from within,
and Celaena leapt into the air in fright. The orb bobbed up and down, and then flew towards the light that lay on the
other side of the long hallway, giggling.

Celaena stared at it dumbly, then chose to follow after the talking sphere, which seemed to be having a blast flying in
circles and spirals and loop-de-loops down the hallway.

She walked for a good ten minutes before they reached the other side of the tree and descended down another long
flight of root-stairs, into the most beautiful garden she had ever seen.

Here, everything was new and glowing with lifeand she could have sworn that the irises were singing to each other.

The ball of light led her into a grove of silver trees, and a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes fell upon the Fae
Queen seated on a stone throne at the far end of it. The softest green grass lined the grove floor, and stars hung in
the air around the leaves, whispering to each other as Celaena Sardothien passed beneath their guardian ring.

The orb zoomed to where its Queen sat, and she smiled faintly at it before whispering something into its light, sending
it flying past Celaena with another fit of giggles. The assassin hopped aside as it departed, her heart pounding wildly.
Come closer, Maeve commanded in her haunting voice, and Celaena obeyed, unable to find any will not to.

Celaena stared in awed silence, the beauty of the Fae Queen placing her under a spell.

You are a long way from Trasien, child.

Celaena nodded dumbly.

Were it not for your fathers chin, you would be an exact likeness of your mother.

Celaena blinked. You knew

Though, Maeve said, cocking her head to the side. I think that your beauty may surpass even hers, beloved as she
was.

Confusion wracked Celaenas mind, and she rubbed her eyes.

Am I awake or dreaming?

Maeve smiled, her crown of stars twinkling. Has there ever really been a difference for you?

For some reason, this question annoyed her. In fact, it annoyed her enough to snap her out of the hazy enchantment
she had been placed under and scowl. How do you know so much about me?

Maeve ran a finger down her stone throne. Dreams, unlike other forms of communication, are not limited by
distances or oceans.

Celaenas brows contracted. What do you want with me?

Queen Maeve rose to her feet. I want you to do what you were born to, Aelin Galathynius.

Celaena shook her head. Thats not my name.

Isnt it? The last I heard, Celaena Sardothien wasnt yours either. Maeve stepped down from her podium and
brushed back her dark hair. So what is your name then, if neither of those define you?

Celaena looked at her, unable to give a reply.

A sad look came into Maeves eyes, and she placed a soft hand on Celaenas cheek. You have been betrayed in so
many ways. Why not end it all?

Celaena Sardothien gave Queen Maeve an incredulous look and withdrew. If you mean suic

Take back your throne, Aelin, daughter of Evaelien.

A tremor passed through Celaena, and she backed away. No, she whispered.

The time has come for you to pick up your mantle. You have been running from it for too long.

Memories, words, sounds, everything came rushing back at her, and Celaenas knees trembled as the singing stopped
and the glen began to spin wildly.

Maeve grabbed onto her shoulders and held her steady. You will not retreat to the horror of your memories, Aelin.
You will not lose control of yourself as you have done in the past.

Her words seeped into Celaenas body and gave her limbs strength as they cleared her mind.
They were silent for a moment as the tidal wave receded, and then Celaena found the strength to look into the
endless eyes of the Fae Queen. This had to be another dream.

You will not run again, Aelin.

I cant, Celaena said in a strangled voice. You dont understandif IIf I do anything, hell kill me. Hell kill
everyone.

You have many allies on your sidethings are not as they were eighteen years ago.

Celaena snorted contemptuously. Like who?

The young prince of Adarlan is a powerful allyas is his good friend, the Captain of the Guard.

But they

And the Crown Prince of Wendlyn is not a friend to be forgotten either.

Celaena moved out of Maeves grasp. This was definitely a dreamno one, especially a queen, would ever consider
anything as preposterous as that. I dont know what youre suggesting. Perhaps you havent been aware of that fact
that Adarlan has taken over the world.

People who live in glass houses shouldnt throw stones.

What?

Adarlans empire is based on fear and oppression. They have made too many enemies within and without to go
unopposed for long.

You forget that Im Adarlans assassin, not Queen of Trasien.

But you could be.

Celaena turned on her heel to leave. This was too muchshe didnt want this. She couldnt deal with this. She had
reached the barrier of trees when she suddenly was thrown back by an invisible force field. She reached out a timid
hand and touched what felt like a solid wall. She whirled around to Queen Maeve, her eyes wide.

You will not walk away from who you are, Celaena Sardothien.

You cant force me to do anything. Celaenas eyes darkened.

Maeve took a seat back on her throne. But I can make you listen. And I can keep you in here as long as it takes.

Anger and fear welled up in her chest, and Celaena inhaled a ragged breath of air.

I know you are afraidand I can comprehend why you might be. But understand this, Aelin: the fate of this world,
and all others, lies in your hands. Your choices will save or damn us all.

Celaenas insides turned over and ball of lead seemed to clog her throat.

Yes, I know of the prophecy, Maeve said slowly. But I also know of your potential. You have a great gift, Aelin,
greater than perhaps even you know. You are the child of two great bloodlinesand of two great magicks: royal and
Fae. Your great-grandmother was my sister, which makes you kinand heir to a mighty power. You, like my great-
grandson, will play a pivotal role in the destiny of this world. You were chosen by the gods to live on the night that
your parents were murderedyou were saved in order to bring salvation to others. Do not once again throw away
the gifts that were given to you.

Trying desperately to keep her memories and horror down, Celaenas legs gave out from beneath her for what
seemed to be the hundredth time that day, and she brought them to her chest as she wrapped her arms around
them. This had to be some bad dream. She would awaken any moment to be in the mossy clearing, the sun still
shining and none of this had ever

This is real, Aelin. This is all real.

It cant be, she croaked, burying her face in her knees. I made it go away once, and it will do so again. She was
beginning to see facesfaces that still haunted her dreams.

Can you be that selfish? Can you be so wretched and foolish? Maeves voice was as cold and harsh as a winter
wind.

I am not Queen of Trasien, Celaena whispered.

I did not summon you here to have you go into another fit of denial. You are the rightful heir and Queen of Trasien,
Celaena Sardothien, Aelin Galathynius, whoever you may call yourself, and I will not let the memory of your mother
and my kin be sullied by your cowardice.

Celaena raised her head, her lips white. Arobynn said

Arobynn is a mortal who manipulated and tricked you into believing the idiotic lies that you practically let him spoon-
feed to you. He wanted you for a tool to get back at Adarlan, but his plan failed when he realized the consequences of
revealing your true identity to the world. He made you into a weapon and then never used you for your intended
purpose.

A weight seemed to be pressing down on her heart, a weight that she hadnt let into the open for some time now. I
am not Arobynns tool.

Then take back who you used to be and reclaim your throne.

Celaena felt her lips quiver. You dont understand, she moaned, I cant.

You can. You have everything you could possibly need to take it back. Your enemies will never be as powerful or as
intelligent as you willas you are.

Celaenas eyes stung. She shouldnt have come here; she shouldnt have accepted Dorians offer those many months
ago. She should be working off her sentence in Endovier. She should be dead. This is impossible.

It is not, Maeve snapped.

I want to leave.

You are twenty-five years old, its about time you learned to accept your past.

I have seen and done things that

I know what has happened to you. Others have done worse and come to terms with their actions.

My parents

Your parents and uncle were murdered, and you would have been too if you hadnt escaped only to be corrupted and
trained to become the tool of a man who didnt know what he was dealing with. Theyre only memories and lies and
false fears. You were made to surviveyou were made to rule.

Maeves voice softened. I can teach you thingsabout your power and your heritage. I can teach you what I taught
your mother and your father, and what I shall be teaching the young prince of Wendlyn.

Ive got an occupation already.

Since my grandson and great-grandson are still alive, Id say that youre doing a pathetic job.
Thats none of your business.

Would you murder your own kinthe last of your kin?

Celaena snarled. I dont want your help or wisdom. I just want to do what I came here to do and then return to
Adarlan.

And return to what? To being an assassin? To letting your talent and lineage fall to pieces?

Who are you to tell me what I can and cant do? Celaena cried, jumping to her feet. I was fine before I got
involved in any of thisI was fine with just coming here and doing what I was sent here to dobut you know that,
dont you?

You were barely able to function without slipping into an emotional storm. Youre not going to get better by ignoring
itit will drive you mad if you do.

As your great-aunt and your only living direct relative, I have a good say in what you do with your life.

Celaena barred her teeth. You may have magick and immortality, but that does not mean that you can

You do not understand the dire situation that is about to break loose on the world.

Celaena paused and straightened at the hint of desperation in the Queens voice.

I will tell you what I summoned you here to say. A war is coming, Maeve said, her voice distant and fearful. A war
to end all wars. A war greater than the wars of gods and demons at the dawn of this world. A war in which a choice
of yours will play a crucial role in determining the outcome. There will be no middle ground, no gray area. It is either
one way or the other. Darkness or lightyou know the game.

Celaena took a seat again. Theres a war going on with Adarlan already, its nothing new.

This war will not be between just Adarlan and Wendlyn. The whole earth will be in this war, and do not confine my
words to mere countries. Im referring to civilizations, nature, and magick. Night will fight day and the whole world
will tremble with fear. This is the fate that awaits you whether you choose to fight for your crown or not.

So why bother? Celaena said dryly.

Because the outcome will be decided by you. Something you are going to do will create such a
circumstance. I do not understand how it is possible, or why such chaos will be unleashed, but it is coming.

I hardly believe that anything that I do will have such a profound impact upon the world.

Choosing between the two young princes will.

What?

You have the hearts of Galan Ashryver and Dorian DeHavilliard in your handswhichever one you choose

Do you mean to imply that my great choice will be choosing between two men?

Part of it will be.

So whats the other part?

I do not knowI do not even know if that choice will have a profound impactI can only assume from what I
knowand from what I have Seen.
 Seen?

In my dreams, through my magick. All those in-tune with the magick of the world have a bit of a Seer in
them. The land speaks to us. I have Seen a great power and energy building around you like the spiral dance you
saw on Beltaen. It will break free and go out into the world, but you can decide its direction. One by one, they are
being drawn to you, Aelin. The Crown Prince of Adarlan and his friend were only the first of many bright flames to
come. Save them or damn them all, Aelin. Take back your birthright.

The singing began once more, and Celaena sat in contemplation for several minutes. She recalled memories
of people and places and events long since past, and a heavy sense of sorrow and guilt washed over her, with a
foaming crest of bitterness and shame.

After some time, Celaena looked up at the Fae Queen once more.

Choice is the essence of our characters!

If she were bound for death, let it be death. If some other fate awaited her, let it present itself without fear. She had
tried one lifestyle and failedwhy not give the one she was born with another chance? Maybe Maeve was right
maybe this was driving her mad. She remembered the night a few weeks ago when she had sat on that grassy knoll,
staring up at the stars, wishing she had the power to change thingswishing she hadnt given up what was rightfully
hers. Wasnt this her chance?

She remembered those who had gone before her, who had sacrificed so much and had possessed so much hope for
her futurefor their future. She felt the weight of seventeen years of running and hiding: seventeen years of
constant fearconscious or not. She remembered the people in the salt mines of Endovier; she remembered the
corruption of Kaltain and the purity of Anuksun. Anuksunshe had represented everything that Celaena should have
been. If she were alive, if she had known who Celaena really was, she would have supported her to do this.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Celaena SardothienAelin Galathyniuslooked down at the ring on her right hand. She had hidden for too long.
She would do this for themfor those she had lost. For her parents, for her uncle, for her friends, and for the
countless souls who had suffered from her cowardice.

This was her time. This was her chance to rattle the stars.

What must I do? she asked quietly.

A slow smile spread across Maeves face. First, change out of that silly nightgown.

Galan Ashryver rode into the estate and practically flew up the stairs to the room in which Fanur was residing.

Shes alive, he breathed, rushing over to the old mans desk. She hasnt been dead these yearsshes
been alive and living in Adarlan. I told you her eyes were like mine, that they were Ashryver eyes!

Fanur raised an eyebrow. Have you been drinking? Whos alive?

Galan sat down in a chair, unable to keep standing. Aelin, he gasped, Aelin Galathynius.

Fanur dropped his pen. You saw her?

Saw her? Ive been meeting with her in the woods and in random places for weeksand I only figured out
who she was today!

Why didnt you bring her here? Your father will be overjoyed!

Galan shook his head, still catching his breath. Shesafraid. Very afraid. I tried to get her to come with
me, butFanur, I think some very bad things have happened to her.
 What do you mean?

Shes deathly afraid of revealing who she isshe must have been in hiding for so long that the idea of living
freely is unknown to her.

Did you justleave her there in the forest?

Shes not exactly your average damsel in distress. She can wield an axe and sing badly enough to scare
anything harmful away quickly enough.

This is the peasant girl youve been gushing about lately?

Yes.

What a strange twist of fate! Aelin Galathyniusalive all of these long yearsI wonder how she survived.
Fanur narrowed his eyes. Did you ask her?

She went onto the killing-edgeits not as if I had the opportunity to ask those things without being flayed
alive.

Shewent onto the killing-edge?

It was so horrifying, Fanur. I touched her magickit was like nothing Ive ever felt before. It was a mix of

Of Fae and royal blood. The strongest of the two branches of magick have met in her body. She should be
quite an interesting person.

She isbutFanur, she was able to conceal it. Her magick, I mean. The first few times I met her, I hardly
detected anything, and then this time

All dams are bound to burst at some point.

It was different though. It was still tightly contained, but I could feel its presence. And when she got angry
it was horrible! Her poweritit had no beginning or end. It was just swirling energy. And there was a rage to it
an endless anger that frightened me more than its lack of borders. I didnt know what to do, so I gave her an
invitation to the Great Celebration. It seemed to startle her

Fanur blinked, then chuckled. I expect it would. The old man called to a servant for two cups of mead and
then turned back to the Crown Prince. Now, tell me everything youve observed about herfrom your first meeting
until today. Galan dragged his chair closer to his companion, still beaming.

The old mans eyes twinkled as he pulled out another piece of parchment. I believe that the tide in this war is about
to shift, he said as the young prince began his tale.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 14

Celaena Sardothien rode through the mists of the early morning, passing by trees that were no more than skeletal
silhouettes. Beside her walked the Fae Prince Raonn Whitethorn, nephew to Queen Maeve, holding the reins of her
ash-gray palfrey. Every now and again, hed look up at her with his dazzling blue eyes and glare. Shed only toss her
head arrogantly and stare straight ahead, a smirk of satisfaction playing about her lips.

When Raonn Whitethorn walked into Maeves clearing, both his and Celaenas surprise had been genuine. His silver
hair and fascinating facial tattoos had triggered the foul memory of their forest encounter; and the dislike and
mistrust that appeared on their faces had bordered on hateful. He turned his sapphire eyes to Maeve and had been
about to snap some rude remark when the Fae Queen had silenced him by introducing Celaena as Aelin Galathynius,
his cousin and heir to Trasiens throne. His cool features went blank for a moment, and then they contorted with
confusion and disbelief.

For the first time in forever, Celaena was immensely proud and pleased with the leverage of her former identity.
Celaena Sardothien pulled Galan Ashryvers cloak tighter around her new Fae clothing, a flowing dress of blue that
was nearly identical to the garment she had worn in her dream with Dorian DeHavilliard.

Before she had ordered Raonn to escort Celaena to the edge of the forest, Queen Maeve had given Celaena a potion
that would eliminate the pains and stress of her moontime; and, frankly, it had worked so well that everything
seemed to have a warm, surreal feelingexcept for the dank cold of morning.

They had been silent for their entire journey through the woods, a quietness only disrupted by the hesitant chirping of
birds.

Prince Raonn frowned up at her. You cant be Aelin Galathynius, he finally remarked, and then looked at the path
ahead of them.

Celaena grinned evilly. Queen Aelin Galathynius to you.

He said nothing, but jerked his chin into the air. Her cheeks burned.

Or you could call me Celaena, she tried.

He rolled his eyes. Id sooner call you Queen Aelin than address you by that horrid assassins name.

Her upper lip curled in a snarl. I still am Adarlans assassin, you know.

Is that supposed to strike any chord of fear in my heart? The day a mortal frightens me, Ill die of shock.

Your Queen said that I had just as much Fae power as youif not more. Celaena smirked and looked down her nose
at him.

Raonn wiped a strand of his long hair out of his eyes. Yes, well, sometimes my Queen has been prone to confuse
dreams with reality.

There was an underlying current of worry in his voice that made Celaenas smug expression melt away. She watched
the trees around them. You dont believe in what she said? she asked quietly.

It is none of your business what I believe and do not believe.

Why? she snapped back.

Because I am Fae kind and you are mortal.

But with

Blood separates blood. You are not one of us, despite whatothers may think.

Celaena looked down at the ring on her hand.

But you are not one of them either, he added in sharply. You are nothingyou are a breed all your own. Did he
always have to sound so condescending?

I thought that there were plenty of mixed bloods in the world. Isnt Galan Ashryver one of them?

Yes, but not like you. You have the most powerful of royal mortal blood magick mixed with the most powerful of
royal Fae magickthat is a combination that has never existed beforeand perhaps should never have come into
beinglike you humans.

She raised an eyebrow, and felt a knot of nausea fill her stomach. What do you mean?
He shook his head. My Queen has trained hundreds of royalsevery great hero was taught by her, in this forest. She
never faltered, she never doubted or feared. Her pathand theirswas always very clear. But with you You are
something unknown to us, something that I have seen my Queenwith my very own eyesworry over.

Whats there to worry over?

Raonn looked up at her and scanned her face. The fact that you were able to go on living and conceal your power
from everyone, especially her, is a key worry for my aunt. She only detected you when you first walked onto these
shores, and it wasnt until you had that encounter that she was assured of your actual existence.

Well, I worked hard to conceal itits not like

No. She is Fae magickshe can detect the slightest drop of Fae blood and power in anyone, from across oceans and
countries. He stared into her eyes so deeply that she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Why were you different? Why were you able to hide it? Raonn asked.

His brows narrowed, and Celaena looked away from him.

Perhaps if she had looked har

She looked. Didnt you hear what she told you? She searched and searched after you disappearedshe knew that
you survived that night, but you seemed to be fading and reappearing like the sun on a cloudy day. It only took a few
months before you justvanished for good.

Then why didnt anyone find me in those months that I was still visible? Her chest ached and she couldnt keep the
bitterness out of her voice.

Gods above, everyone was looking for you. Many died in search of you.

Her eyes began to sting around the edges, and she gripped her cloak. Peoplewere actually killed?

In case you havent realized, while you were in that assassins guild, a world conquest was raging onand those
suspected of being in association with the search for you were secretly executed.

Celaena watched a pair of birds chase after each other in a nearby tree. If I had revealed myself, more would have
died, she muttered. She hated thisshe shouldnt have listened to Maeveshe should have jumped off of that Fae-
womans horse as soon as she had awoken and run for iteven if there had been wicked things roaming the woods
last night.

If you had revealed yourself, he growled, you might have saved the lives and freedom of thousands.

Celaenas eyes flashed. Who are you to judge me? A rageand a guiltwas beginning to boil and erupt inside of
her.

His face darkened. You gave up your power and your titleyou gave up the freedom of your country. My Queen
shouldnt even be wasting her time with the likes of you. You dont deserve her training and knowledgeyou dont
deserve the throne that she wants you to reclaim.

You think I dont know that? she suddenly yelled, and the chirping of the birds stopped. You think that I havent
thought about that every single day of my life? You think that I want any of this? You stupid, arrogant, presuming
idiot. I dont want thisall I want is to do what I came here to do and then go back to Adarlan, get my freedom, and
live out the rest of my life anonymously and in solitude.

Your refusal to accept your past deeds is pathetic, he said coldly.

She was shaking with rage. Gods above, I KNOW. I know that and Im ashamed about it and what the hell more do
you want from me?
I want you, he said with deadly calm, to leave this place. I think that my Queen has confused her hopes with reality
and I dont want you to enter these woods again. He gave her a look so piercing and loathing that she felt it. A swell
of nausea arose at his next words: You will lead us all into damnation.

They had reached the familiar path led to the chateau, and Celaena dismounted the horse with rapid speed.

Fine, she snarled, taking an aggressive step towards him. I did it once before, Ill do it againIll disappear. Maybe
your Queen is delusional. Maybe you and the rest of the world are in correct agreement about me.

He raised his eyebrows in such a condescending manner that she felt like ripping out his throat. Celaena ripped Galan
Ashryvers cloak from her shoulders and threw it in Prince Raonns face.

Perhaps Ill crawl back into my grave, she hissed, and fled down the path, fervently wishing that this had all been a
dream.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Youre being summoned.

Celaena opened an eye and looked into Stephaenyas face. Hmm?

The Baroness demands your presence. I think shes going to assign you the workload of a lifetime, so I hope youre
well-rested.

I wouldnt call spending the entire night talking with the Fae Queen as being rested.

But, strangely, she did feel relaxed. Perhaps it had been a dreamperhaps Luca had come by and carried her back
here, and she had never even met Maeve or Raonn. If so, then that would mean

You should also brace yourself for the tongue-lashing of a lifetime.

Celaena raised an eyebrow. I didnt do anything, she groaned, throwing her blanket from her body and raising
herself from the bed.

Disappearing into the woods for an entire nightespecially on the dark of the moonis hardly anything.

The Baroness sh

Im not talking about the Baroness. Im talking about Luca.

Huh?

What do you mean? Celaena asked groggily as she dressed herself behind the painted screen.

She could hear Stephaenya shifting around on her feet. What I mean is thatwell, when Luca went to get you at
sundown, you werent there. He thought you might have come back here, but you didnt. By that time, it was night,
and going into the woods wasnt an option. He was beside himself with guilt and grief and he really thought that you
were dead.

Well, go tell him that Im not. Im a grown womanI can take care of myself. Celaena dropped her clothing to the
floor, and then stared at it in horror.

It doesnt work like that here. No matter what your age is, youre still responsible for telling us where youve gone
or at least telling someone.

The blue toga shimmered in the morning light, and Celaena knelt down beside it, running her hands along the
gossamer fabric. It hadnt been a dream.

I she said, unaware of anything Stephaenya had just said.

A bell began ringing. You had better hurry and get dressed, Stephaenya said. The Baroness is waiting in her
bedchambers.

Celaena clutched the blue dress to her bare body, closing her eyes.

Queen of TrasienYou were going to be the Queen of Trasien one day

And, if I were you, Id hide that dress, Stephaenya said quietly. While we dont have any issues with the Fae, it
isnt fondly looked upon if you spend your nights and days with them. Its a bitbizarre. Theyre immortals, and tend
to only interact with the royals, and its disturbing to commoners if they have taken interest in one of our kind. It
cant mean anything good.

You are the rightful heir of Trasien.

Celaena suddenly dropped the dress as if it had been burning hot, and stood up quickly, grabbing the work clothes
she had slung over the edge of the screen.

Thank you, she said to Stephaenya. She had heard half of what the young woman had said, but not much beyond
that. Something about hiding the dress

Celaena kicked the blue gown over to where her sack lay, and then hastily shoved it in beside the box that contained
the useless glass shoes. But, as she did so, something unexpected happened. A cream-colored card fell from the folds
of the dress, and Celaena gingerly picked it up, turning it over.

It was Galans invitation.

Celaena looked at the dress, and the box that contained the shoes, and then down at the invitation. She had needed a
way to get into that palaceto get inside so she could accomplish her task

Her heart began to beat wildly, and she shoved the card into the sack. Her insides felt light and heavy all at once.

Celaena left the room and hurried down the stairs, taking several deep breaths as she approached the Baronesss
rooms.

All that she had to do now was wait.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien scrubbed the many yards of fabric against the ridged washboard, her muscles aching from the
work. Wiping the sweat from her eyes with her upper arm, Celaena scowled deeply at the work that lay before her.
She was barely halfway done with the washand she had already spent three hours working on it. Why were dresses
so big and impossible to get clean? The hot, soapy water burned her hands, and leaning over the washboard made
her back sore and stiff. Wasnt this job meant for two people?

Worse than all of this, however, was the location of her work. She had been ordered by the Baroness to take all of
their laundry to the small shed located beside the stables; and she had been grateful to get out of the house and have
some solitudeuntil the smell from the barn began to infiltrate the building.

She had a way to get into the palace now, and she avoided thinking about what it would mean to Galan if she showed
up. However, while doing the backbreaking laundry, she could not help but think that perhaps working here was a bit
unnecessary. She had visions of giving up and finding Galan, telling him who she really was, spending her time in the
palace, gaining the information that she needed, and then finishing the job, but a constant fear kept her from leaving
the chateau.

The water was beginning to get lukewarm, and so Celaena stopped her scrubbing and strode over to the woodpile that
lay in a corner, throwing a few logs onto the fire that lay beneath the huge vat in which she was washing.

Suddenly the door burst in and Celaena reeled around to find Luca standing in the doorway, his face lit with fury.
I really hope youve got a good explanation, he bellowed. I was up all night worrying over youwondering if you
were dead, or being eaten alive! Do you know how much sleep I missed?

Celaena rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. Im here now, so what does it matter?

It matters because you disappeared into the woods during the dark of the moon and no one knew where or when you
had gone!

So? Its only wolves and bats and thingsnothing to be frightened of. She remembered the unearthly howls that
had haunted the forest, and felt the hair on her arms stand up.

Luca stood beside her, his eyes wide. Wolvesand batsand things? Gods above, youve really got something coming
to you if you think that only those creatures come out during the dark of the moon.

Celaena hissed. Well, nothing happened, so theres no reason why you should be worrying over it.

Where were you? he snapped, running a hand through his brown hair.

None of your business, she retorted.

I think that when I stay up all night, I have a damn good right to know where you were!

I was visiting someone.

I thought you didnt know anyone here, he said warily.

I do now.

Celaena squeezed out the large dress she had been washing.

One of the other farm hands said he saw you coming out of the woods at dawn.

She tossed the dress into the large basket that contained the other clothes she had washed and were now waiting to
be hung up. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. Celaena grabbed a new piece of clothing and began
scrubbing it.

Luca suddenly grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him. Maybe you should tell me why you were
able to go into those woods last night and come out alive this morning.

Celaena splashed the dripping water from the dress she was holding onto him. Mind your own business. Ill tell you
where Im going next time, all right? Celaena returned to scrubbing. Maybe you shouldnt leave me in the woods to
sleep.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped again as he saw the expression that flashed across her face
as she returned to working. It made his blood run cold. It was the look of someone who went seeking death; the
sorrowful look of someone who was fatigued and burdened, yet knew that to lay their weight down for a single
moment would mean sure destruction.

It was gone from her face in a flash, but it burned itself in his mind. He remembered her face after she had fought for
him those many days agohe remembered the shame he had thought was directed at him, but now knew who it was
for. She was part Fae, part of the immortal race that had once ruled the world. She was also someone who had once
worked for another great world power. In his heart, Luca could feel her being torn apart by the two different
bloodlines, the two different paths, that ran through her veins.

But even the Fae did not venture from their city on the dark of the moon. Where had she been?

Luca gave her a pitying look that she did not see. Fine, he said after a while. Just dont go off like that again
without telling someone. Wewe would have really missed you if you haddied. She didnt respond.
He gently touched her shoulder. Hows your moontime going, by the way?

She let out a snarl. Thats none of your business either.

He smiled despite the worry that he felt inside of him. Thank the Goddess that your attitude also wasnt harmed last
night. Ill see you tomorrow, rememberbright and early. Same place, same time. My knighthood rests in your, he
looked down at her red and swollen hands, blessed hands.

Celaena rolled her eyes again, but grinned as she listened to the sounds of him leaving.

Perhaps she did have a reason to stay here.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien grunted as she hung up yet another five yards of sodden fabric, wondering how something like
that could ever double as a dress. The clothesline stretched from the washing shed to a nearby barren tree, its thick
white rope already bending from the weight of the clothing. The day was hot and bright, and the sun seemed to be
deliberately shining from every angle, blinding her view.

She had missed lunch due to the fact that the Baroness had threatened to throw her out if the laundry wasnt
completely done by sundown; and at the rate it would take these things to dry, Celaena was beginning to believe that
she should start packing immediately.

On and on she worked, her body aching so badly that she felt like fainting, until an hour later, when she was hanging
up the last massive dress.

There was a fluttering of wings to her left, and a stout scream that made her leap into the air with fright.

On a nearby tree stump sat a falcon with an unmistakably arrogant air around it.

Celaena rolled her eyes and pinned the last fold of fabric to the line.

Did you not understand what I said earlier today? she asked, turning around to face the bird, her hands on her hips.

All it did was cock its head to the side.

If youve come to mock and sneer at me, you can fly yourself back to your city, Prince Raonn. Im in no mood to put
up with your arrogance and rudeness.

When it did nothing, Celaena blushed and looked around, hoping that no one had seen her.

Shoo! she hissed at it, and motioned her arms for it to leave.

It hopped from one foot to another, and Celaena glared at the markings she saw beneath its eyesmarkings very
similar to those tattooed on the face of the Fae Prince.

I know its you, stop making me look like an idiot! Transform yourself or something!

The falcon clicked its beak.

Letting out a snarl of impatience, Celaena reached down into the pocket of her apron, pulled out a clothespin, and
hurled it at the bird.

It flapped up into the air, escaping the pin, and then swooped at her. Celaena ducked behind a dress and growled at it
as it flew back to the stump and looked at her with a smug expression.

If you havent got any reason to be here other than to annoy me, leave. Ive got work to do, and Im hungry and hot,
and I dont have time for your snobbery, she said over the clothesline.
It considered her words for a moment, let out a cry, and then flew into the air. It circled around her, seeming to
motion for her to follow it, and then flew towards the path that led into the woods.

Celaena looked at the damp laundry. She still had a few hours until it would be dry.

Biting down on her lip, Celaena removed her apron and laid it in the laundry basket. She took a few steps towards the
kitchen, called to Leighanna that shed be back in a few hours, and upon receiving her reply, followed down the path
after the falcon.

When she reached the forest entrance, she found Prince Raonn in his human form, standing beside the palfrey she
had rode this morning, her red cape in his hands.

You could have just come to get me and saved yourself all of that trouble, she snapped.

The Fae do not venture from these woodsvery often.

Then I guess this meeting must not have been that important if you couldnt be bothered to retrieve me in your Fae
form.

He jerked his chin into the air. It is unnerving for humans to see us in our Fae formsit reminds them of their
weakness and mortality.

Celaena let out a disgusted sound. Is there are reason for you condescending to meet me or not?

Prince Raonn looked down at the ground, and, to Celaenas dismay, blushed.

My Queen sent me back here to apologize, he grumbled, and handed the red cape of Wendlyns Crown Prince back
to her.

Celaena took it from him and ran her fingers down the worn, rich fabric.

II ask for your forgiveness, Aelin Galathynius, he said, raising his eyes to glare into hers, for my foul and rude
behavior this morning. I did not mean what I said, and you are welcome in this forest at any time.

Celaena fought to keep a straight face.

Maeve must have really ripped him apart for being such an arrogant buffoon.

I dont know, Celaena said after a moments consideration. I dont think I heard you correctly. Could you say that
again for me? Im very tired and overworked, and I dont think my ears are properly working.

Raonn gave her an incredulous look and then snorted. I will do no such thing, he said as he tossed his silver hair
behind his shoulders. Maeve has summoned you; and I am to bring you to her now.

Celaena raised an eyebrow as she tied Galans cloak around her neck. For what reason?

Raonn brought his horse closer and motioned for her to mount. For your training.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard dropped his head down upon the open book, a groan escaping from his lips.

They had been poring over these ancient tomes for two days now and they had found nothing interesting on Amaroth
or Noll, save for the fact that the former had once been a part of the lost empire of Morla thousands and thousands of
years ago.

From beside him, he could hear Chaol click his tongue in agreement.

Lets take a lunch break, shall we? the Captain of the Guard asked, and slammed his book shut.
Dorian raised his head and rested his chin upon the old pages of the book, staring towards the endless collection of
resources that they had yet to go through. I think we should just find the old man and ask him what the hell he
meant. Theres some connection between the two of themthere has to be, or else he wouldnt have written them
down on that damn piece of paper.

Chaol raised his hands above his head and stretched. That wouldnt be too smartasking him straight out. Youre
right that there is some connection, yet I think that whatever it is, were not supposed to be too public about it

I should just ask the librarian, Dorian muttered.

I think you should eat some lunch and then go visit your mother.

Dorian rolled his eyes. Id rather not visit that woman.

Chaol stood up and refastened his sheathed sword to his belt. Would you rather skip it, have her complain and cry to
your father about how you neglect and hate her, and then have your father beat you into a pulp for being the
arrogant and lazy bastard that you are?

Dorian raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Chaol. He found his friend smiling, and after a pause, the Crown
Prince grinned in return.

I suppose an hour or two in her court wouldnt kill me.

Itd give you time to think over everything weve read about Amaroth and Nollperhaps youll be hit with a flash of
understanding.

Dorians smile faded, and he got to his feet. Arent you coming with me?

Chaol shook his head. Ive actually got to go down the barracks and make sure that everything is in order. There are
also a few new soldiers that need to be initiated into the Royal Guard.

The Crown Prince nodded, and the two motioned to one of the librarians to put their books away for them.

Fifteen minutes later, Dorian was ready to rip off his ears and kill everyone in the room. He sat on a throne beside his
painted and groomed mother, trying his best to keep a snarl off of his face. This was the first time he had been to his
mothers court since Celaena left, and he was amazed and disgusted to see the reality of everything once again.

His mother had written to him, begging him to come to court to visit her because she was getting old and wanted to
see her darling son before she died. He had felt like sending her a reply that said if she really wanted to see her
darling son, she should stop by his chambers in person, since they did live in the same building

Instead, he had scribbled a note saying that he had been busy as of late, and would stop by to see her some day in
the near future.

Now sitting in his mothers court, Dorian DeHavilliard sorely regretted that letter.

Dorian, darlingI dont believe, his mother began, and motioned with a bejeweled hand at five young women
standing near the platform on which he and his mother were seated, youve met

Dorians muscles tensed with anger as he saw the five women lustfully step towards them.

Im taken, you idiots.

One by one, she introduced them, and Dorian nodded in blank acknowledgement at each of them, drowning out his
mothers words.

Upon seeing a lack of reaction, his mother sent them off with a flick of the hand, and turned to him. Come now,
Dorian, youve got to have some interest in finding a wife!
Dorian looked at his mother, and felt a pang of pity echo in his heart. This was her jobthis was her lifefinding a
suitable wife for himthis was all that society allowed for her to do. What might she have done if she hadnt been so
restricted? What if she had been allowed to pursue her own interests?

Mother, he said gently, I

Or is it, she asked, that you have shown no interest in these ladies because you have found someone already? She
seemed so hopeful, so excited.

Dorian smiled.

His mothers eyes lit up. You have found someone! Oh, Dorianmy dear, sweet boy! Tell me, who is she? Where is
she right now? Surely shes a member of my courtwhich one? Gisella? Loraine? Perhaps Sorine?

The Crown Prince shook his head. Shesshes not here right now. Shes away.

Away? How could she bear to be away from you? Bring her back here at once! Oh, Dorian, who is she?

Adarlans assassin.

For a moment, he considered telling her. He considered finding a way to break the news to his mother, the Queen of
Adarlan, that he was in love with, and was planning on marrying, Celaena Sardothien. But then he realized what it
would do to herand what would happen when she went to her husband, sobbing with grief that their son had chosen
to marry the most hated criminal in the world.

It was in that split second that Dorian realized what would happen to he and Celaena if their relationship were to
come into view.

Theyd both be killed.

No matter how many lies and names they could make up about her, sooner or later, someone would discover that she
wasnt of noble blood. He could make her the duchess or princess or lady of some small country or territory, but he
knew his father would never sign the papers. Hed sooner have his son dead and have Perringtonn on the throne than
have him marry Celaena Sardothien.

There is no one, mother, he said softly. II was joking with you.

His mothers face fell, but then she burst into giggles. A joke! Oh, oh! How funny! How clever! Several people
around them began to laugh too, though he knew that they had not heard his words.

Dorian sat back in his throne, his face blank.

He couldnt think about what would be required in order for them to marry.

All around him, the court continued to laugh; and Dorian DeHavilliard began to silently despair.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien frowned at Queen Maeve, and then looked down once more at the sword that had been placed in
her hands.

I already know how to fight, she said bluntly.

Maeve shook her head, her crown of stars glittering. Only with the fundamentals. You know how to assassinate and
stay alive. Im going to teach you skills and methods that predate human life on this earth: the skills that the Fae
used to win the wars against the Demon Hordes at the dawn of time.
Celaena gracefully swung the sword a few times in the air in front of her, and then raised her eyes to Queen Maeves
face. I dont really see what the point is in teaching me something Im already the best in the world at.

Maeve stood from her throne and walked down the few stone steps to Celaena. There will come a time when you
wont be able to shove a hairpin into someones brain, Aelin Galathynius. You will need these skills some day.

For someone who is apparently unsure of me, she certainly has a lot planned out.

So, youre going to teach me how to ride a horse while fighting in battle or some other war skill like that? Celaenas
mouth contorted into a half-smile.

Maeve gave her a look that made Celaenas smirk fade.

Im going to teach you how to be faster than the windhow to fight so that it appears that your feet arent touching
the ground. I told you this once, and I will tell you it once more: they will never be as fast or as strong as you will be.

Celaena looked down at her arms. Im just a woman.

Sex has nothing to do with it. The strength that you will draw fromthat you have drawn from all your life, even
when you were hiding your powersis not physical.

There was a swell of nausea in Celaenas stomach, and she raised her stare to the Fae Queen.

Your strength will come from your magickfrom your blood. You are strong now, but once you fully immerse yourself
in the magick, once you connect yourself to it, you will be unstoppable.

Celaena felt sick thinking about it. She had expected physical, not

I cant, she blurted out.

Maeve raised an eyebrow and moved back to her throne.

I canttrain myself to do that, Celaena continued. It will interfere with too many things; it will complicate
everything.

Queen Maeve was silent, and the assassin blushed.

You must drop this futile mission of yours, the Fae woman said.

Celaena shook her head. Its not as simple as thatif I dont return to Adarlan, the king will kill a dear friend of
mine.

The Captain of the Guard.

Celaenas heart skipped a beat. How did you

Another of your allies. Your dreams reveal much, Aelin.

Stop calling me that. My name is Celaena. Aelin Galathynius is dead.

Maeve smiled slightly. Apparently not.

Celaena slammed her sword into the soft earth. You know what I meant.

I believe that Aelin Galathynius is more alive than you realize.

Celaena looked away and did not speak.

She is alive in those that still love herin those that believe she still draws breath and should be the one sitting on
the throne of Trasien. She is alive in every heart that defies Adarlan. She is alive in the memory of your parents, in
the memory of your uncle.

The ache was back. The ache that squeezed her heart and haunted her dreams.

Look at me, Celaena.

The powerthe strength in the Fae Queens voice dragged the eyes of the assassin into her ancient ones.

The throne of Trasien belongs to you, and you alone. So long as you live, so long as blood still flows in your veins, it
will always belong to you. Changing your name cannot alter that fate.

Anger swelled in her and the spell of the Fae Queen disappeared. I cant even keep my damn friends alivehow the
hell dyou expect me to be able to rule a country? Celaena snapped.

I can teach you. But you, like it or not, are a natural leader. You possess qualities common and necessary in rulers:
resourcefulness, intelligence, compassion, pride, Maeve paused, and stood once more, and courage.

Celaena rolled her eyes. How would you know that?

I have seen and been told of your behavior at the chateau. Your treatment towards the girl Cindrillion is a perfect
example of your character.

In what way?

You fought for her. You feel a natural instinct to defend those who cannot defend themselves, do you not? Even your
life as an assassin shows your worth as Queen of Trasien.

Killing people for money? Hardly. This was a waste of her time. She should have known better than to let this
happen. Celaena turned to leave.

When you speak, people listen. Your character is too strong for anything else to happen.

The assassin shook her head and took a step towards the edge of the clearing.

If you stand against Adarlan, others will join you.

Chills raced down her arms and her heart skipped a beat at the thought of it. Celaena paused.

But not enough to destroy Adarlan, Celaena said coldly, staring out into the glittering forest of Doranelle. Not
enough to defy an empire.

No one but Adarlan enjoys having Adarlan in control. You would be surprised at the countries that would

Countries? Celaena laughed bitterly. What countries? All that is left of these countries you speak of are hollow
names and broken cultures. Adarlan has immersed its armies into them so well that to raise a counterforce would be
impossible. You could trust no one for help.

Should you challenge the king, others will follow.

Celaena whirled around with a snarl. How about you go to Adarlan and you see what things are like for someone like
me? How about you see its armies marching out of Renaril? Have you ever had a lover killed? Or had a friend
accidentally slaughtered instead of you because some spoiled bitch hired an inept assassin? Have you ever written
messages on a wall with someones blood and organs? Celaena smiled darkly. Because I have.

She stepped towards Maeve, and pulled the sword out of the ground. I have committed crimes that no natural
leader would have ever done. I have no regard for those I dislike or find beneath me. I am no hero, nor do I have
any intention of becoming one. I enjoy hurting people. I liked killing those people.
Celaena ran a finger down the blade, her eyes shining with a light that neither of them understood.

Now, after hearing that, Queen Maeve, tell me if you think I can be Queen of Trasien. Celaenas voice shook with
anger. Tell me if you think you want the fate of the world resting in my sullied hands. Tell me if you still believe you
can train me.

For the first time in that age of the world, Maeve had no reply.

Celaena smirked. You saw an image. You saw a dream. You saw what you wanted me to be: you saw something that
you desired. I am no queen, nor will I ever be. Had you seen the real me, the person I have become, you would have
known that I could never reclaim that throne. Your nephew was correct: I should have died those many years ago.

Her ears were burning, and her eyes suddenly stung. With nothing left to say, Celaena tossed the sword onto the
ground and began to walk away.

But you didnt.

Maeve moved to pick up the sword and walked to where Celaena had stopped. You didnt dieand that makes all the
difference.

I know that you have done terrible thingsand that you have experienced even more horrifying events. But I also
know that you are the daughter of Evaelien Ashryver and Rhoe Galathynius.

Celaena sucked in air at the mention of her parents names.

I want you to see something before you decide to turn your back on your birthright forever.

The assassin shifted to look at the Fae Queen.

Come with me, Maeve said, and beckoned to her with an ivory hand.

They walked in silence through the slender trees, the singing of the Fae floating in the golden air around them. After a
while they came to an insignificant clearing, alike all of the others in the forest save for the smooth tree stump that
sat in its center.

Whats this? Celaena asked, following the Fae Queen towards the stump.

A sad smile appeared on the Fae womans lips.

Your heritage.

Celaena raised an eyebrow, and would have laughed had her eyes not fallen upon the top of the stump.

There, encircled in a rough heart, lay the initials of her parents.

They met here, Maeve said. This is where they first laid eyes on each other. Evaelien was here, with me, learning
about the nature and spirit of the forest, when all of a sudden, a handsome and gallant young man came bursting
through the trees on his white stallion, asking if he was anywhere near the capital of Wendlyn.

Celaena lowered herself to her knees and traced her fingers over the engraved markings.

If I could say it was love at first sight, I would. However, your mother became quite irritated that he had interrupted
our lesson, and told him to ride his prancing pony back to whatever dress shop he had come from.

Celaena smiled, and her throat clogged as she remembered the face of her mother.

Your father was so shocked that he nearly fell off of his horseand then stated that he was not riding a pony, and
had never been in a dress shop his entire life. It was only after your mother had replied that that was the reason why
he looked so ridiculous (which was quite far from the truth), I realized that there would be a muchlonger connection
between the two of them than that moment in the clearing.

Celaena knew what Maeve was trying to doand she let her, if not for any other reason but the one before her: this
was the only surviving link to her parents. For fifteen years, she had nothing, no trinket or portrait, to keep the
memory of them alive. She had been too afraid to search for one. But here, in the depths of the forest, was a
connection.

Here were her parents. Here was their love.

Celaena began to see facesand then events. She saw summer days spent on the beach, surrounded by the love of
her parents and the court. She saw the nights her parents would stay up reading to her, acting out scenes from her
favorite books and stories. She remembered holiday celebrations and the birthday parties the court would throw her.

Prince Rhoe of Trasien was spending the summer in Wendlynin the very castle in which your mother lived. He was
to train with me, to learn of our ways, so running into your mother was expected and quite frequent.

The stars in Maeves eyes danced. Over the three months he was here, Rhoe and Evaelien fell in love. She was
seventeen and he was nineteen, still a bit too young to marry. I remember her tears the day he left for Trasienthe
same day they came to this clearing and carved their initials into this tree stump. They both seemed to think it was
the end of the world. To young lovers, I suppose separation may be. They would write to each other frequently, and
while both of their families knew of their love, they were hesitant to approve of it.

Celaena looked up, her eyes drying.

You see: Evaelien had been intended for Glaston, Galans father and her cousin. While the royal families of Trasien
and Wendlyn were close allies and friends, the bloodlines had never been crossed beforeand with good reason. Each
side possessed powerful magick: the house of Galathynius possessing the strongest of royal blood magick, and in the
house of Ashryver flowed the powerful magick of the Fae. No one, not even I, knew what would result if the bloodlines
were crossed.

For months, they fought with their relatives for approval of their love, and Glaston even declared that he was to
marry someone else. But fear still ran high. Then Evaelien did something that no one, not even Rhoe, expected. She
ran away to Trasien late one night, leaving nothing more than a short note to her parents about her decision. She
arrived in Trasien three weeks later, and Rhoe was almost as furious as everyone else.

Celaena smiled and looked down at the initials again.

Evaelien demanded, now that she had turned eighteen, that if Rhoe didnt marry her, shed marry someone else. And
when Rhoe asked her who in Hell would want to marry someone as snide and loud as her, she almost killed him. I
remember her father telling me how Rhoes uncle, the King of Trasien, had to pull her off of him because she was set
to rip out his throat. Maeve laughed.

Always quarrelling and bickeringthey never ceased their antics. Much like you and Galan Ashryveror any male you
encounter. You take after your mother in that senseshe was never the kind of woman to humiliate herself with
batting her eyelashes to attract a man. She also never let any man out-do her, something that often got her into
trouble. Your father was the same: proud and wild, unable to put up with false character and attitude.

To continue the story, after Evaelien had attacked Rhoe, he soon proposed. I dont think he had ever had the shit
kicked out of him (to quote a witness) by a woman; and I think that Rhoe realized, while icing his black eye, that no
woman on earth would ever be special and brave enough to except for her. Their families objected, of course, but in
the endwell, you obviously know what the result is.

Celaenas mouth contracted as she tried to smile and force back tears all at once. She felt joy and pain, but most of
all: guilt.

Guilt that she had turned her back on their story, guilt that she had forced herself to forget the joy of the first eight
years of her life. She had been terrified and perhaps even brainwashed by Arobynn Hamel, but that

That shouldnt have stopped me. Im a coward; Im a damned coward and fool.
Celaena stared at the tree trunk until the pommel of the sword was placed into her vision.

I do not mean to force you into this by guilt or nostalgia, Aelin Galathynius. But now, after seeing and hearing this,
can you still turn your back on your heritage? On the love that your parents fought to have? On the people that loved
you more than life itself?

Celaena traced the initials with her finger once more.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Save or damn us all.

If she was bound for Hell, let it be Hell. If she would die in the process, then it was meant to be, wasnt it? The path
was still unclear to her, but she now had a lantern.

RG

EA

What would they have thought? What would they have done? Her heart beat quickly as she faced her choice for the
second time in two days.

The sword shone brightly in the light of the clearing.

She remembered that night many days ago when she had sat beneath the stars and desired to move themto
change the world. Here was her chance. Here was her opportunity to shake the heavens and perhaps even live
through it to see better days. Here, in her veins, flowed the blood and power and love of Evaelien and Rhoe
Galathynius.

As her slender hand moved to grasp the hilt of the sword, a single tear splashed upon the surface of the stump,
staining where even rain had failed to leave a mark.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 15

The King of Adarlan looked down at the large map of Wendlyn, his dark eyes shining in the candlelight.

Half of our fleet will be within fighting range of the Gulf of Baello in two days time, Perringtonn said, pointing to the
north coast of their enemys country. We can hold off Wendlyns ships for a few daysenough time for the soldiers in
Peregrinno to ready themselves for the attack, and for the other half of our ships to arrive along the reefs barrier.

The king put his finger on the Gulf of Baello, and traced an invisible line down to Peregrinno. Its an eighty mile
journey across grasslands and marshes from Baello to Peregrinno. The earliest Wendlyns army could arrive is a day
after our attack. The king smiled, looking at the complex and twisted area of rivers and marshland that divided the
grasslands of the North from the forests and mountains of the South. And news of our assault wont even reach the
capital, let alone the generals of Wendlyns army, until several hoursor dayslater. By the time Wendlyns army
realizes whats happened, well have sacked Peregrinno and be on our way to take the capital city.

Perringtonn enjoyed a short smile with his king before his face contracted with concern. What of the assassin, my
Lord? Wont this disrupt her plan to destroy the King of Wendlyn and his son?

The King of Adarlan shook his head. So long as our forces gain Peregrinno and the layouts and secrets of Wendlyns
barrier reef, we dont need that damned woman. When we take the capital for our own, shell return to Adarlan.

And what then, your highness?

The King of Adarlan looked at the capital of Wendlyn, and grinned. And then well hang her along with the rest of
them.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
I remember the day the Valg broke into our world.

The what?

The demons.

Oh, ohright. Celaena looked around the massive wooden chamber, still unsure if she was awake or dreaming. All
around them were shelves upon shelves of books and maps and strange objects that glittered and absorbed the
glowing light of the Faerie orbs that floated around like fireflies. The smell of wood and summer hung thickly in the
air; and the assassin could have sworn that in the domed ceiling of the library lay a piece of the night sky. They were
inside the tree, the center of Doranelle.

Maeve was silent, and Celaena turned her head to look at the ancient queen, briefly wondering what kind of toll
immortality demanded of a person. There were no lines on Maeves face, but the assassin knew, watching the stars
dance and fade in the Fae Queens eyes, that perhaps the cost was much more than the assumed value.

My sisters and I were still young thenwe hadnt even traveled beyond the borders of Doranelle.

Sisters?

Maeve smiled sadly. Yes, sisters. I had two of them: Mora and Mab, both younger than I.

What happened to them?

Oh, they passed into the next world long ago.

Celaena shifted awkwardly in her chair. Im sorry, she offered.

Maeve shook her head. Its nothing to be sorry about. It was their choice to do so.

The assassin raised an eyebrow. What do you mean?

Mora and Mab both loved mortal men. Since there was little chance of me dying, they both knew they could chain
themselves into the bonds of Time, and thus die a mortal death alongside their husbands.

Chills ran down Celaenas arms, thinking not only of their sacrifice, but also of one that another would have made.

But the blood of my sisters still flows. Mora married an Ashryverthe first king of Wendlynand years later, one of
Mabs descendents also married into that family, giving birth to your mother, Evaelien Ashryver. So, you see, we are
linked: you are a great-niece of sorts.

Can all Fae give up their immortality?

Only pure-blooded Fae. A drop of mortal blood is enough to, well, kill you. But, depending on how much Fae blood
you have, you may live a very long life. Some mixed-bloods have lived for hundreds of years.

Will I?

Maeve smiled again. I dont know. You know that you are one-eighth Fae, but also blessed with the full powers of a
pure-blooded one.

Celaena nodded.

A throwback to my great-grandmother.

Maeve tossed her hair. I prefer the term: heir. You are heir to the powers of my youngest sister, Princess Mab,
guardian of the young, keeper of wild things.

Celaena Sardothien felt as if the bottom of her heart had dropped into her stomach.
She is known by many other names nowand, apparently, has become a god of sorts. Some call her the Huntress,
others call her Deaenna.

The golden arrow

Ironic, isnt it?

Celaena almost jumped out of her chair in fright, but bit down on her fear, feeling anger suddenly burn in her chest. It
wasnt fairor decentthat Maeve knew so many things and was willing to wield them over her like this.

Maybe you should keep the hell out of my dreams or brain or whatever it is youre reading and mind your own
business, the assassin snapped.

Maeve looked startled, and Celaena hid her smirk of satisfaction.

You have to know these things in order for you to understand the path before you, Maeve said slowly.

Celaena leaned back in the ornately carved chair and crossed her arms. Fine, she said, Teach away.

The Fae Queen gave her a weighing look, a slight frown on her lips, and then began to speak once more, her dark
eyes glazing over with memory.

As I was saying, the day that the Valg first came is still clearly etched in my mind. There was a grumbling in the
West, much like the sound of a thunderhead breaking, and a cold wind swept through Doranelle. I awoke with a start,
thrown out of sleep by the disturbance that the earth was feeling, and raced out of my chambers to find my two
sisters standing at the

Celaenas eyes wandered over to a silver orb that sat alone on a shelf, nestled amongst a river of black velvet. It
seemed to glow in the Faerie light, radiating a light all its own. Celaena narrowed her eyes. But it also seemed to be
taking in lightit seemed to be collecting it.

The harder she stared at it, the more it seemed to shine. The metal looked as if it were melting, its shape morphing
and rippling like the surface of a lake. It was throbbing now, pulsating like a heartbeat. She could not tear her eyes
away from it. It was as if her very being were being pulled towards it, sucked into its full moon of brightness, molten
and transforming, spiraling and spinning down and down and down

Then it was gone. A blanket of darkness blotched out the shining light, and a loud hiss filled the air.

How typical, Maeve snorted, and removed the velvet-covered orb from its shelf and placed it in a drawer.

Celaena blinked rapidly, suddenly feeling as if someone had dropped her into a cold pool. Whatwhat was that
thing?

Something that should not have been left out in the open.

The assassin gave the Fae Queen a blank look, and Maeve sighed as she seated herself. That is Glamasils Orb.

Celaena shook her head. Are you serious?

Of course.

Why wasnt it destroyed?

For the same reason we have yet to destroy many of the dangerous things in this world: we do not know what will
happen if we do. What if we were to destroy it and the entire human race was wiped out in the process?

That thing really created humans?

Glamasils greatest creationand greatest bane.

Why did it have that effect on me? Celaena asked, still trying to gather herself.

It was created to make life, and in order to do so, it must first draw life from something elsesomething mortal. You
are the first mortal to have come into contact with it inwell, in a very long time.

Its incredible.

Its dangerous.

Why cant it be both? Celaena snapped back.

To her surprise, Maeve laughed. A fair question. I suppose that, for you, it must be something of great interest and
yearning. But for me, for my kind, it is something to be feared, something foul, something that shouldnt have been
left out in the open.

Did you know Glamasil?

A sadness rose in Maeves eyes. Yes, but as he descended further into the depths of his obsession with creating life, I
began to realize that I did not know him at all. By the time he had succeeded in making the orb, and thus creating the
first human, I hadnt spoken to or seen him in several years.

Celaena leaned forward, her eyes wide. What drove him to do it?

Maeve shook her head. Loneliness, anger, curiosity. All Fae have a love of naturewe love to see things grow and
blossombut Glamasilthat love turned into madness. He wanted to make a life all his own, something he didnt have
to share with anyone. I guess the only suitable form he could think of was a female. He couldnt figure out how to
imbue her with the immortality and exact physical characteristics of our race, but he tried the best he could.

And thus the first mortal was born.

The Goddess never intended for us to feel the physical weight of Time. He violated her Will. He had to be punished
as well as all of his followers. Bestowing upon them the same properties that he had bestowed upon his creation was
the most appropriate punishment for his crime.

And thats how royal blood magick came into being, correct?

Correct. He and his followers, along with his female creation, fled across the ocean and established a small country
under his rule. Because they no longer had the Fae connection to the earth, or our shape-shifting abilities, Glamasils
magick turned inwardinto his blood. That magick was passed down, spreading out across family trees as the race of
men came into being and expanded, but stayed dominant in the house of Galathynius, in the house of your father.

Celaena swallowed the dry lump in her throat.

A descendent of Mab and Glamasil. She looked down at the blue-green veins in her wrist, realizing for the first time
what kind of blood flowed in her body. No wonder the Fae were afraid of her.

May I continue with our history lesson?

Celaena leaned back and nodded.

The Valg had somehow ripped a hole in the

Wait, Celaena interrupted. If Imheir to Mabs power, why dont I have an animal form?

Who says that humansor Faearent animals? You experienced that shift when you used your magick a few days
ago. You turned into one of our kind. If thats not shape-shifting, I dont know what is.

So, my animal form is one of the Fae?

Or perhaps your animal form is human. We can stay in our animal form for as long as we like. For all you know, you
could have been in your animal form your entire life.

I was born human.

Maeves eyes twinkled. Is your question answered now? May I continue?

Celaena scowled. No.

The Fae Queen raised an eyebrow. No?

Dyou think Glamasils Orb was responding to my blood? Not just my mortal blood, but perhaps it recognized his
blood in me?

Maeve considered this. Perhaps. Who knows with you?

Celaena pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. I should be getting back to the Chateau. The laundry is probably dry,
and Ill be fired if its not done by sun-down.

You still insist on going on with your plan?

My friend will die if I dont.

The life of one person is nothing compared to a country full of people.

Celaena felt like telling Maeve to cram her ridiculous notions up her rear-end, but having had enough arguing with the
queen for one day, the assassin simply stood up. I have to go.

And just when dyou plan on returning, Aelin? Maeve asked with false sweetness.

Whenever you send your cronies out to stalk me again.

Celaena grinned at Maeves indignant expression, nodded her farewell, and left the Queens Library, hoping to find her
way out without any strange encounters.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard stood along the white fence of the racetrack, watching Fleetfoot run against dogs twice her size,
her long legs barely touching the earth. In a river of black, she was a slender island of golda shining arrow that
pierced the darkness of night. The dead rabbit whizzed by along the inner circle of the track, and the stampede
followed with vicious intensity, white fangs and saliva glaring in the morning sunlight.

Faster and faster, growing more reckless and determined by the minute, the hounds flew towards their goal, jaws
snapping and bodies colliding. It had been risky for him to put Fleetfoot in this race, against his other, stronger dogs,
but after seeing her take down a deer in the hunting park not two days earlier, Dorian DeHavilliard knew that perhaps
she could stand a chance against the purebred elite.

She certainly runs like the wind, said a voice from behind him, and Dorian turned to find the Minister of Trasien
standing beside him. A fine bitch, Id say. There was a glitter in the old mans eyes that made the Crown Prince
uneasy.

You certainly havent been bu

Available to do much other than serve my king and country, your highness.

The old man stared out at the dogs. Its a risk to put a creature like her in with the likes of them.

Dorian smiled. She can hold her own, Im sure of it.

Thats a pleasant reassurance. Im sure that without your support and love, she would be torn apart.

He looked at the minister, making sure they were both talking about the same female. The twinkle was still in the
ministers eyes, and Dorian turned his head back to watch the pack curve into their final lap. Yourwords of
encouragement arequite confusing, sir. Im afraid that there is nothing to be found in books about this situation.

Are they? Perhaps if you spent less time thinking about the past, and more time focusing on the present, you might
learn something.

Dorian frowned, hoping they were discussing the same thing.

Your fathers kingdom, said the old man, has greatly expanded in the span of very few years. Surely you cannot
doubt that perhaps there is a greater power at work hereyour father has an uncanny amount of control overthe
land.

Before anything could be said, Dorian saw a flash of gold leap out and intersect the rabbit, followed by an outburst of
snarls and a swarm of black that seemed to swallow up the shining dog completely. There was a whelp that turned
into a ferocious growl, and then the Crown Prince watched as Fleetfoot slowly backed away from the other dogs, her
teeth barred, the limp rabbit hanging from her jaws. They closed in on her, and her shackles rose.

There was a bark, and before another dog could move, Dorian and a group of trainers had jumped the fence to break
up the situation. There was a rush towards Fleetfoot, but Dorian now stood in the way, causing them to pause. He
was their masterthey couldnt challenge him, could they? Before they could act, the trainers rushed in and leashed
the dogs with expert skill.

Snarling and struggling, the dogs were led away, and Dorian let out a long hiss from between his teeth. It wasnt until
he felt the warmth and strength of Fleetfoot brushing herself against his legs that he remembered the bitch was still
behind him. And then, in an act that made his eyes widen with shock, the hound dropped the rabbit at his feet,
offering her prize to him.

He ruffled the soft fur on her head, and picked up the rabbit, dusting it off. Hed have it skinned and cleaned and
given back to her as soon as they returned to his chambers.

Dorian led her out of the track, and approached the Minister of Trasien. I apologize, sir, for that.

He shook his head. Its nice to see such loyalty and kindness between twocreatures. Its almost a thing unheard of
today. Something to be treasured. Something to be protected no matter what.

Unfortunately, some circumstances are unavoidablecircumstances where that love and loyalty cannot last, Dorian
replied.

The minister smiled sadly. Young prince, there is nothing that love cannot conquer, even deathand tyrants.

A weight dropped into Dorians throat.

The old man laid a hand on the Crown Princes arm, and looked down at Fleetfoot, who was lying on the ground, her
head resting on Dorians boot. I know that at times, such an unusual relationship might seem impossible, and that all
odds are against such a pairing. I know that there might be a fear of death and loss. But I also know that once there
is such a bond, once such a link is made, there is no forcein Heaven or Hellthat can sever it. Love is a thing that
transcends material things like racetracks. When wood and stone have crumbled, and language and command have
long since disappeared, love will always remain. You should not fear such mortal things, Prince Dorian, for she will
always follow you, no matter what the cost is, no matter how long it takes.

How do you know such things are true?

Look at your literature, look at your historywhat always remains memorable in your mind? The relationships
between beingsanimal or otherwise.

How can you be sure of her, Dorian nodded down at Fleetfoot, feelings for me?
Because she raced like the wind to get that prize, and then she gave it all to you without question. The ministers
voice dropped to a whisper. Like mistress, like pet.

But the others

Things are quickly changing in the racetrack. Soon the purebred will bow to the half-breed, and the fences will
crumble before her gaze.

Dorians brows contracted. They had gone from symbolism to utter nonsense. Was the minister calling him a bastard
son of the king?

Im afraid that I

Keep up your research, Crown Prince. Remember: try to keep focused in the present. I hope we will both have the
time to run into each other soon This has been a pleasant conversation. The old man turned from the fence, smiled
down at the dog, and walked back towards the glass palace, humming to himself.

Dorian DeHavilliard opened his mouth, but then closed it, his stomach contracting with worry. With a click of his
tongue, Dorian commanded Fleetfoot to rise; and after watching the Minister of Trasien disappear into the building,
decided that a long walk through the park was in order.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena smirked in satisfaction as Luca made another pass at the jousting machine, hitting the dummy in the chest
with such force that it fell off of its perch. The young man took the blow from his opponent, and held on surprisingly
well. There was a high-pitched cheer from all around them, and the assassin couldnt help turning her smirk into a
grin as a chorus of blue and green faeries raised their fists in victory.

To them, every time that Luca didnt fall off his horse or complain was a grand success.

The little sprites had been helping them for a few days now, using their eerie powers to bring Celaenas shabby
machine to lifeand to repair the lances each time Luca shattered them. They thought that the training was great
fun, and each time Luca seemed to improve, they made their bewitched dummy even stronger. Celaena had to admit
that without their help, Luca would never have gotten as good as he was at the momenthe was even beginning to
surpass her wildest hopes of improvement.

The youth understood the movement and strength of his horse, as well as his weight in its saddle; and the pair of
them seemed to work together, not just as rider and horse, in order to bring down their opponent.

A swarm of blue and green encircled the bottom fourth of Lucas lance, chirping and jabbering as they speedily
repaired it. She supposed that putting the shattered lance back together was the equivalent of the jigsaw puzzles that
humans used to entertain themselves during bad weatheronly more fun. The faeries zipped around the clearing,
picking up pieces and placing them back into the wood while another group held each shard in place. When all the
pieces were assembled, the swarm of faeries tightened and the sound of excited chanting filled the air as they sealed
it closed.

They let out a cheer when it was finally fixed; and them moved onto the dummys lance, enjoying its reparations just
as much as Lucas. This all occurred in less than a minute, giving Luca just enough time to catch his breath.

The tournament was barely more than three weeks away, and they still hadnt focused on any real fighting technique.
As an assassin, Celaena thought that lances and jousting were probably the most useless things in the world. There
was some sort of artistic, romantic side to this kind of thing that she still failed to see or appreciate; but if it was how
Luca thought he could prove himself

Ready? she barked, and motioned the faeries to bring the dummy to life. There was a thundering of hooves and
then a clash of metal and wood; and then, to her disappointment, Luca slipped from his horse and slammed into the
ground.

This was only their third day with armorand it wasnt even real armor. She had stolen the most run-down, light
armor she could find from the Baron de Ghents estate, and Luca was still attempting to get a feel for it.
Dragging the armor from the neighboring estate had been almost as exhausting as taking down and folding the
laundry earlier this afternoon. She had never known that clothing could weigh so much. If she were ever to rule some
place of the earth, shed make it law that dresses and other clothes could not weigh more than a few pounds. What
was the need for big dresses anyway? They were just as miserable to wear as to wash, and she believed that the
world would be a much better place if people would wear the lightweight garments of the Fae.

The youth struggled to his feet, and removed the helmet from his head, throwing it onto the ground in frustration. The
faeries rushed forward again to do their work, little sighs of discontent filling the air.

Its impossible, he whined. I can hold on for one or two passes, but after that, the armor is just too heavy.

Celaena rolled her eyes. Then youll just have to practice more.

The tournaments in two damned weeks! he exploded, his brown eyes filled with light and tears. Theres no way I
can build up the endurance in time! And this isnt even real armor! he yelled, and kicked his helmet a few feet,
wincing as the metal hit his foot. This isthis is junk!

She picked up his helmet and weighed it in her hands. Ill have you know that the progress youve made so far has
beenunnatural, Luca. In two weeks, I think you could be even better than this.

The youth tossed his hair, and looked down at the ground.

Celaena put a hand on his shoulder. And perhaps even stand a chance at winning.

Luca knocked her hand from her shoulder. We practice for two hours a day. And youve missed a few lately. How is
that enough to win against boys whove been practicing their entire lives?

I dont think theyve had faeries helping them.

I dont think theyve had women training them either, he snapped.

Her brows suddenly contracted. If you believe, she snarled, that any man is better than I am at this kind of thing,
youre sorely mistaken. She shoved his helmet into his arms. Go out there and find one man, any man, who can
beat me at this kind of thing, and Ill hang myself.

Luca clicked his tongue in anger. But youre a woman! How can I present you at this thing? Who would take us
seriously? A bastard and his female trainer? Youre not even a knight or a lady!

Im a Queen, you idiot.

I thought you said this competition was open to everyone.

Yes, but its mainly a noble-blooded kind of thing. Where are we even going to get proper armor?

Celaena frowned. That was a problem. They had no money, and didnt know anyone who could

Galan.

They had the Crown Prince of Wendlyn on their side! He could help them, he could give them the money and the

But hes gone now. Ive no way to reach him without

Ill worry about getting the armor, Celaena snarled, You worry about getting back on that horse. I want you to
make at least five passes without being thrown.

But its almost past sunset!

She smiled viciously. Then you had better be quick about it.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena was dreaming again.

But it was unlike any other dream she had ever had. There was a startling clarity and calm to this one, the kind of
silence and relaxation one feels while swimming beneath the glassy lid of a body of water.

All around her was blue: turquoise blue that glowed and soothed her body. She was swimming through it, and
realized, to her great joy, that her lungs could hold more air than usual. Celaena couldnt tell if she was in her own
body or not, and for the moment, she didnt care.

The smoothness and warmth of the water caressed her skin as she flew beneath the surface, twirling and spiraling,
feeling the weightless freedom all around her.

Her ears soon picked up on a series of clicks and chirps, and, turning her head, she found herself in the midst of a
great pod of the sea animals she had played with on her way to Wendlyn. They swam around her, brushing against
her with their smooth and rubbery bodies, so graceful and vibrant that she was frozen with awe. But then she rose
and fell with them, dancing in the shining water, an ache of joy and love and connection grabbing a hold of her heart.

They were welcoming her into their groupthey saw her as one of them. Together they moved through the water,
feeling nothing but each other and the throb of life all around them.

Yet Celaena still could not understand them: their chirps and squeaks and clicks were foreign to her ears, and the
assassin was afraid that without a voice of her own, they would soon leave her in the silence of the water.

They began to move off, their powerful fins beating the water, and Celaena looked down for the first time to find her
two feet: small and fragile, two separate entities that couldnt fly through the water fast enough to remain with those
she so fiercely loved.

She opened her mouth to call to them, but found only the thickness of water in her mouth. They were disappearing,
fading into the endless blue, little more than black lines. The weightless wonder faded from her body, and Celaena
began to sink downwards, towards the white, sandy bottom, knowing that if she hit it, it would keep her trapped down
there forever. Her arms stretched out, and her head tipped back to look at the golden light on the surface once last
time.

Then something happened she did not expect.

Her hand brushed against something smooth and rubbery, and she looked around wildly, but found it to be nothing
more than a figment of her imagination. She flailed her arms around, hoping to touch whatever it was once more, but
found only the empty water.

Just when she felt the approaching bottom draw near, she landed atop something, something warm and rubbery,
something that moved beneath her and knew how to hold her weight.

Looking down, Celaena saw, with relief and joy, one of the creatures. It had returned for her, and was now bearing
her through the water, towards the others. Its eyes looked up towards her, as if to tell her that it wouldnt let her go,
and its fluke pounded up and down. They were going so fast that she had to hold onto its dorsal fin for support.

Upwards they climbed, up from the bottom and towards the sun once more; and soon the black lines in the distance
became bodies, bodies that were leaping and bounding between water and sky.

As they surfaced, Celaena felt the smoothness of the water break around her like a rock against a river, and blinding
light abounded in the air around them, filling every inch of her body, making her forget and embrace the sinking
feeling of a few moments ago.

Down they went again, and Celaena let go.

She found that she could keep up with them without effort, that she was as fast and as powerful as they were.
A wild joy spread through her body and mind, the kind of joy that makes one cling to life, the kind of joy that is so
hard to find, yet so easily accessible.

The creatures around her leapt in and out of the water; and, upon feeling a nudge from the creature beside her,
Celaena let the weight and force of the water go.

She leapt out of the water, taking in the outside world around her, and slammed downwards, her body screaming with
delight as she did it again and again.

They were flying together, going between air and sea, and Celaena pushed herself to jump higher, higher than all of
the others, to touch the source of the light, to be enveloped in its warmth. She was soon at the front of the pod,
leading them before she even knew it. She turned one direction and they followed.

They followed her, the one whose body wasnt like theirsthe one who was an outsider, without question. They
trusted her and reveled in her joy, and she did the same: their happiness was hers, and their freedom set her wild in
return.

Leaping higher than they had ever leapt before, they sang the song of the sea and the chorus of the sky, laughing as
they danced in a place that none had ever dared to tread.

She was beneath the turquoise water now, pausing for a moment to catch her breath, and she turned her head to the
side to see the creature that had saved her.

It opened its beak, and Celaena raised an eyebrow as it suddenly said to her: You wouldnt happen to have any
paestia on you, would you?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

With a jolt, Celaena awoke, and a burst of giggles slammed into her ear. The sound of fluttering wings tickled her
mind, and Celaena snarled as she saw two faeries clutching their large bellies and cackling.

Paestia, paestia, they sang, and grinned.

Celaena cursed at them and looked at the window. It was the cold gray of the time before the sunrise.

In the bed beside her, Cindrillion slept soundly, her golden hair a blanket over her face.

Luca would be waiting for her.

Groggily, Celaena washed her face and dressed herself, still wondering how shed be able to find the money to buy
Lucas armor. Perhaps Maeve could give him some kind of special Fae armor or something like it.

If you wake her up the way you did for me, Ill turn you both into a pair of shoes, she snarled at the two faeries that
were now inspecting the dead mice and birds.

She was halfway to the clearing when a shining falcon appeared and stopped her in her tracks.

Come to bother me again?

In a flash of light, the bird expanded outwards into the shape of Prince Raonn Whitethorn, and he arrogantly tossed
his head. Maeve summons you, he said.

Well, tell her Im busy with other things.

The boy is sound asleep and wont be awake until breakfast.

Celaena frowned. Take your damned enchantment off of himhe needs to practice.
Raonn clicked his tongue. The only enchantment thats on him is sheer exhaustion. You worked him to the bone
yesterdayhe needs to rest.

The assassin rolled her eyes. Well, Im needed back at the chateau as soon as breakfast is over.

If youd stop making excuses, perhaps youd be back there sooner.

Celaena snorted, yet began to walk deeper into the forest, making sure to stomp on his foot as she walked by. By the
indignant snarl that resounded from behind her, she knew that this would be a very interesting trip.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien scrubbed the dishes from lunch, wincing at the pain that flowed down her back, shoulders, and
neck. It turned out that Maeve hadnt been planning a history lesson.

She hadnt had a fighting session like that since she had fought Chaol. Maeve had placed her against Raonn, setting
the young Fae princes lifelong skills against those of a mortal assassin.

To say that her ego was bruised would be an understatement.

Though she had given her best, and had almost run him through a few times, the prince had bested her within an inch
of her life. Maeves style of training was pretty simple: Celaena and Raonn would spar, and after each fight, the queen
moved forward to instruct Celaena on how to improve, what she was doing wrong, what she could do to make her
sword really hurt. She had even taught Celaena a few new moves that the assassin had found to be surprisingly good.

Beyond good, actually. They were incredible.

Even after an hour, Celaena felt like she had improved a hundredfold. She had never fought so fast or strongly: it was
as if they were flying through the clearing, the only assurance of contact was the clash of their blades.

The only downside was that, upon being returned to the chateau, Celaena could barely move her upper body.
Cleaning up breakfast had been awful, but cleaning lunch had been brutal.

Her shoulders ached from the two-sword fighting she had done at the end: slamming down with one sword while her
body whirled in a counter-clockwise spin to slam the other sword down upon Raonns blade. She had done things like
it as an assassin, but never had she been taught that her feet and legs provided just as much power to the move as
her arms and chest. When her feet were positioned correctly, the move became more than a fancy trick: it became
lethal.

Celaena gritted her teeth as she rubbed the plate clean and placed it on the drying rack.

Cindrillion sat at the table behind her, humming to herself.

Why are you so happy? Celaena asked, attempting to turn her head to look at the girl, but her sore muscles
protested.

The Baroness and Joline and Marghenna are going away for a day or two.

Celaena raised an eyebrow. Where to?

Cindrillion shrugged. To some little town that specializes in some kind of cloth that they want for the Great
Celebration.

Just what they need. More clothes.

When are they leaving?

In a day or so.
Celaena smiled, and placed another clean dish on the rack. Stephaenya came into the kitchen, smiling as broadly as
Cindrillion.

I suppose youre happy for the same reason as Cindrillion?

Stephaenya nodded, and placed the final dishes from the lunch table alongside the sink. Celaena looked at them and
groaned.

If I have to do one more di she began, but stopped herself as Luca burst into the kitchen from outside.

Its begun, he breathed out, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear.

Stephaenya stood up, and Celaena whirled around. What has? the assassin asked.

Adarlan, Luca exclaimed. Adarlan has attacked the Gulf of Baello.

The color in Stephaenya and Cindrillions faces drained away, and they turned their heads to look at Celaena.

Theyre here? the brown-haired girl asked softly, turning her gaze away from the assassin as she sat down at the
table with weak knees.

Theyre more than a hundred miles from us, Luca said. They attacked just after breakfast this morning. I heard it
just now, from a page rushing towards the Baron de Ghents estate.

They cant break past the reef, right? Celaena said, avoiding the still-staring eyes of Cindrillion.

Luca shook his head, and Celaena was unnerved by how badly he was shaking. They have thesethings. These iron
balls that they can somehow project across great distancesThey break apart stone and wood and can rip a man into
a thousand pieces.

Stephaenya reached towards him and took his hand.

And so the war truly begins

Celaenas brows contracted with worry. If Adarlan had been planning this, what exactly was she supposed to do?

So they can blast apart buildings and shipsbut can they break through the barrier reef? Celaena asked.

Luca shook his head, and Celaena let out a breath of relief. Then youthen we are all still safe. So long as they dont
know the way through the reefs, theyll never set foot in this country.

She couldnt believe what was coming out of her mouth. She had come here to steal the defense plans for this country
she had come here to

She shook her head. She couldnt think about that. Not now.

Did you know anything about this? Cindrillion suddenly asked, and Celaenas heart jumped in fright. How could this
girl know

No, Celaena said calmly. I had no idea. Which was the truth, but it somehow felt like a lie.

Its only a matter of time, Luca said from the table. Its only a matter of time before they find a way to break
through.

Celaena stared at their scared faces, so unsure of the world that was suddenly crumbling from beneath them, and
turned away, unable to reply.

Thankfully, no other words were needed. The Baroness entered the room and sneered at them before turning to
Celaena. You, girlyoure to accompany us tomorrow.
Celaena smiled with false delight. For what reason, Baroness?

My daughters and I need clothes for the Great Celebration, you insolent broad. Dont question my motives.

Surely you know that a battle has just broken out at the Gulf of Baello, Celaena continued, wiping her wet hands on
her apron.

Surely I know, and surely I dont care. Our reefs are strong, and nothingeven these iron balls that the rambling
page was talking aboutcan break through our lines. My daughters and I need new clothes, and some ridiculous
battle isnt going to prevent us from getting them. This is no excuse to stop working, she barked at the others in the
kitchen, and the three young people looked at the woman, unable to move or say anything.

The Baroness ignored them and turned back to Celaena. You will be ready to go with us at dawn tomorrow,
Elentulyai. Try not to look like a savage beast either.

The woman turned to leave, and Celaena called to her.

Pardon me, madam, but where are we going?

The Baroness glared at her, but answered: Peregrinno.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver sat in his room at the estate of the Duke of Kensing, sipping at a cup of tea and skimming through the
papers that Fanur had delivered to him at breakfast. He was bored of visiting young woman after young woman.
Some were pretty, some were ugly, some could play instruments or paint very nicely, but none of them interested
him.

He couldnt stop thinking about Aelin Galathyniushe couldnt stop thinking about how she was mysteriously here,
how she had somehow survived

He had just set down his cup of tea when the doors to his chambers flew open and a red-faced page burst in, waving
a piece of paper and practically hurling himself onto the table.

Adarlan, the boy panted, Adarlan has attacked the Gulf of Baello.

Galan rose to his feet, dread and anger filling his body, and grabbed the paper from the hands of the boy. It was a
hastily scribbled note from one of his fathers generals.

They had attacked just after breakfast, and were using the iron balls that Fanur and he had discussed those many
days ago. There was a possibility that the reef might not hold out against them.

Before he could think it through, Galan grabbed his sword from the table and attached it to his belt, running from the
room at top speed.

He was halfway down the stairs when he slammed into Fanur.

Where are you the old man began, but Galan was already flying down the stairs again.

The Crown Prince rushed into the courtyard and called to a stable boy.

Galan, what are you doing? Fanur said, his eyes wide.

Adarlan has attackedAdarlan attacked Baello. Ive got to go.

A young boy came rushing forward. Saddle my horse, boy! the prince demanded. He turned back to his mentor. My
father is too far awaymy people need someone there to guide them.

The generals, Fanur began, but Galan had turned to the stable boy, who was just standing there.
Gods above, boy, get me my horse! he barked. His blood throbbed in his veins, and he felt the wild anger and
determination of his lineage flare to life inside of him.

Begging your pardon, highness, buttheres already a horse here for you. The youth pointed with a shaking hand to
a white-spotted gray horse that was trotting towards him. Someone came by just now and said the boy shook his
head. And said that Queen Maeve sent it for you.

Galan felt relief and fear race through him, but he didnt have time to consider how or why the Fae Queen had decided
to aid him. Mounting the horse, he turned to his mentor.

I must go, he said. For my country, for my people, Galan gazed into Fanurs eyes, his blue orbs shining with the
light of bravery and love, and for my family.

The old man shook his head, knowing for whom Galan was really fighting, and opened his mouth, but the young
prince had already taken off down the road, a cloud of dust appearing behind him.

Galan! Fanur screamed, terror taking a hold of him. His young charge was going to his death.

GALAN! he screamed again, but the Crown Prince of Wendlyn had disappeared into the forest.

Galan broke through the final line of trees of the forest and galloped across the wide plain before him, urging the Fae
horse to go faster. They had a hundred miles to cover, and for all he knew, Baello could be destroyed by the time he
got there.

If Adarlan came into his country

She hadnt escaped from Adarlan to have the same thing happen to her hereShe was safe here

Galan passed by the base of the large cliff that marked the end of the forest, a breeze caressing his face. Had he
turned to look back at the cliff, he would have seen a figure clothed in purple, her black hair caught in the wind, her
eyes shining as she whispered into the ear of the land: Fly, Galan Ashryver, fly.

They passed by mountains and valleys, forging rivers and streams, leaping across crevices and sinking marshes,
leaving in awe all those who saw the young prince and his Fae horse. They were little more than a pounding of gray
and a flash of red and black, a cry of determination and courage in a world that was beginning to fall silent in the face
of evil.

Onwards he rode towards the green Gulf of Baello, his cape billowing behind him in the wind, the magick of the Fae
stirring in his blood and speeding him on, giving both the prince and his steed the strength that was needed to charge
straight into the jaws of Death.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 16: PART I

Celaena Sardothien crossed her right leg over her left and leaned forward, her teeth barred in annoyance.

Its not exactly something I can refuse, she snapped.

The biggest battle in this war is going on and youre going shopping, the Fae Prince snarled back.

Im not going shoppingthat wretched woman is. Im the bag carrier.

A fine position for Aelin Galathynius. He twirled a strand of his silver hair around one of his fingers.

Celaena rolled her eyes and looked towards Maeve, who had been silent since Celaenas arrival a few minutes earlier.
The assassin had meant to stay just long enough to tell the Fae Queen that shed be gone for a few days, but
somehow Prince Raonn had managed to convince Maeve that since Celaena would be gone for a while, she should get
some training accomplished.

I really dont have time to stay here and do whatever activities you had in mind, Celaena began for what felt like the
seventh time in ten minutes. Im leaving tomorrow morning, and I need a full nights sleep and
Silence.

Both Raonn and Celaena raised their brows at the Fae Queens sharp injection. They watched as the Fae womans
eyes seemed to fade into the night sky that lay behind her pupils, her ivory skin glowing like a moon nestled between
the ebony tendrils of her hair. There was a long moment of silence; and to the assassin, it appeared that Maeve was
far away, seeing some scene or event that had yet to be spoken of.

Suddenly, Maeve turned back to Celaena, her eyes coming into focus once more. When are you expected to return to
the chateau?

Celaena Sardothien shrugged her shoulders at the Queen. After dinner, I suppose.

Then youve got plenty of time to stay here for a little work.

But its practically a half-days walk! It took me damn long enough to get here, and its going to take me just as long
to get back! If I le

You neednt worry about your return journey. The Queen looked at Raonn. Bring her to one of the Faes training
roomsthe bronze one at the end of the Left Branch. The Prince raised an eyebrow, and the Queen shook her head.
I dont think that any kind of magickal training will be needed for today. Get her on the bars for a while and then do
what you like with herjust make sure to work on her agility and endurance.

Celaena straightened up, her chest puffing out as she prepared to explain that she already possessed an enormous
amount of both those qualities, but Maeve silenced her once more with a wave of the hand.

You must remember that youve only learned from a mortal, Aelin Galathynius. What Raonn and I are going to teach
you will make your mortal training seem like childs play.

Before any further words could be spoken, Prince Raonn took the assassin by the arm and led her from Maeves
clearing, past sparkling gardens and singing maidens, and up ancient stone steps into the vast interior of the great
tree. Onwards they climbed several spiral staircases lined with lights that glittered like jewels, the haunting choruses
of the Fae filling the space between their breathing, until they reached a long corridor that Celaena assumed was the
Left Branch. It was only when she looked to either side of the wooden hallway and up at the curved ceiling that
Celaena realized they were really in the left branch of the tree.

At the end of the walkway there was a bronze door, which Raonn threw open, and they entered into a chamber unlike
any she had ever seen. While it did have a resemblance to the room in which she and Chaol had spent so many hours
practicing, the weapons were foreign to her, save for an elegant sword placed here or there along the long rack that
lined the far wall. Scattered throughout the room were constructions of metal and wood that Celaena could only guess
were there for some kind of training, but what purpose they served she could not figure out.

Raonn pointed to a pair of chest-high bronze parallel bars that sat in the middle of the room. Get between those.

Celaena raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, placing herself between the two poles.

Well? she sneered, and tossed her hair. Is that it? She put one hand on either bar and lifted herself up, arrogantly
swinging her legs through the air. She smirked in satisfaction as she flipped her legs forward and over the sides of the
bars, rising into a seated position on top of the structure. They had sorely underestimated her abilities!

Raonn removed his jerkin and rolled up the white sleeves of his shirt, his eyes filling with a wicked gleam that wiped
Celaenas cocky grin off of her face.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard awoke to a heavy pounding at his door. Groaning, he stretched and then rolled over, hoping that
the banging was just a headache from the wine he had consumed the night before. When it didnt stop, he emitted
another noise of discontent and slithered out of bed, landing with a thud on his cold stone floor. Yawning, he fumbled
for his pants and stood up, hopping to the door.

Dorian unlocked it, and found Chaol standing before him, red-faced and looking anxiousas always. You couldnt
have waited until, Dorian yawned again, lunch?
Chaol pushed the prince back into his chambers and called over his shoulder for some food and cold water to be
brought immediately. It is lunch, you drunken fool!

Dorian frowned and looked at the clock. Sure enough, it was after midday. Why didnt you wake me up sooner?

Chaol rushed towards Dorians closet and tossed a shirt to him. Ive been knocking at your door for half an hour.
Since when do you lock your doors?

The prince shrugged. Is there something urgent going on?

Chaol glared at Dorian, but stopped to receive the food and drink that one of Dorians attendants brought in for them.
The Captain of the Guard shoved a cold goblet into Dorians hands. Only that your fathers just launched the largest
attack on Wendlyn to date.

Dorian almost choked on his water. What?

Theyre attacking the North shores of Wendlyn as a diversion for their main attack eighty miles to the south-west.
Apparently, theyve been sneaking soldiers into Wendlyn for several weeksthere were six thousand of them waiting
in a forest near a small town called Peregrinnowaiting for the signal to attack. Off the Western Shore, theres also
more than half of your fathers fleet, each stocked with over a hundred soldiers and those iron balls that your father
had developed. They will attack tomorrow near sundownsacking Peregrinno, gaining information about how to
navigate their ships to shore, unload the thousand or so more soldiers that are waiting off shore, and then take the
road straight to the capital city of Wendlyn. Your father plans to have Wendlyn partially taken by dawn tomorrow.

Dorian DeHavilliard shook his head. I dontwait, what about Celaena? I thought she was supposed to steal
information about the safest way to get through Wendlyns Barrier Reef.

It appears that your father grew impatient, or lost trustmaybe both.

Anger surged through the Crown Prince, and he set his goblet down before slumping down on his bed. I cant believe
my own father didnt tell me of his plan!

You seem to be saying that a lot lately, said his friend, and Chaol took a seat beside him. But I guess this means
that she wont really have to do muchexcept kill the king of Wendlyn. That is, unless one of our generals doesnt do
that first. She may be coming home sooner than we expected.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. What general did my father send to attack that small town?

Chaol rolled his eyes. Gmord. Who else?

The Crown Prince winced. General Gmord was not a man known for mercyif the king wanted the town razed, Gmord
would see to it that not a building or person remained intact.

What if Celaena is caught in the battle?

I doubt shes dumb enough to do something like thatchances are, shes working in the capital city, and when she
hears the news about the attacks in the North and then the attack on Peregrinno, shell know well enough to clear out
of the city and wait until its under our flag.

Although Chaols words sounded completely rational, Dorian had a sick feeling in his stomach that somehow his
beloved wouldnt be far away when the battle broke loose. I hope, he said quietly, and stood up, turning to the
window to look at the climbing sun.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver held onto the stone wall of the parapet, wincing as he heard the screaming of another iron ball tearing
through the air before it smashed into a nearby tower. There was an explosion that shook him to the core, and he
opened his eyes in time to see rock go flying up into the star-frosted sky. The roof and many places along the walls of
his parapet had been blown off hours before, and now lay in scattered ruin across the cobblestone walkway of the
battlements.
He had arrived near sundown to find the fort under siege, his fathers army trying desperately to understand the
nature of the destructive balls that were smashing the fort to pieces. Moonlight shone down upon the small fort on the
Gulf of Baello, lighting the water and the buildings well enough for the Crown Prince to be able to see the damage of
the battle. All around, men were howling and calling to each other; and not even a mile out, Galan could clearly see
the torch fires on the battleships of Adarlan.

There was another high-pitched wail, followed by a cascading eruption of rock, and Galan was thrown to the ground
by the force of the nearby impact. There had been no direct contact with Adarlans armythey had been firing these
balls from their small fleet on the edge of the Reef, but even that was enough to get the death toll into the hundreds.
He knew that it was useless to have so many men stationed here, but the possibility that some greater damage might
be donethat, by some foul will, Adarlan would be able to break free of the reefs protective barrierkept the Crown
Prince and his army within the boundaries of the fort.

My Lord, a soldier breathed from nearby, and Galan turned to look at the bloodied man. We must retreat from the
fortone more blow from them and this building may collapse from beneath us.

The Crown Prince gazed at the crumbled stone that was splattered with sickening amounts of purple liquid and then
nodded to the soldier.

Spread the ordertell them to get out of the fort, but to go only as far as the iron balls will not reach. I dont know
what Adarlans purpose is in attacking us from such a distance, but those ships have to run out of their supplies
sooner or later

Another metallic scream and another explosion rocked the smooth cradle of the night. Galan gripped the pommel of
his sword and let out a long hiss as he finished the order that he knew part of him had no right to make.

And then well launch our fleet upon them. Send a message to every port along the Gulfevery able-bodied sailor
and ship are to sneak along the coastline, staying out of view and range of Adarlans fleet. As soon as were certain
Adarlan has run out of ammunition, well send a signal to our ships and launch a counter-attack from within the Reefs
barriers.

The soldier bowed and disappeared down the nearby stairs to spread the princes command.

Standing up as tall as he dared, the Crown Prince of Wendlyn took one last look at the destruction that had already
resulted during the long night, and prayed to the Mother Above that his command had not been one of folly.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

General Gmord watched the sun rise over the Eastern wall of Peregrinno, his meaty hand resting on the pommel of his
sword. Behind him stretched an army of six thousand menthe finest of Adarlans soldiers. Hiding an army of that
size in a forest had been a riskbut thankfully those that had come across their camp hadnt left it alive. He had been
sending peasant-clad soldiers into the nearby towns with large orders of armor, paying with the several pieces of gold
that each soldier had swum over with. While it wasnt the impeccable armor that they were used to, it held up wellor
as well as needed for the conquest of an insignificant town.

They were to attack at the Southern Watchtower in the late afternoon, an hour or so before sundown, and then
destroy as much of the town as possible. Their goal was simple: take the Gate of Omil, the only direct way to reach
the capital city of Wendlyn from their position. Once they had control of that road, Wendlyn would crumble. Since a
massive range of sharp cliffs and boulders directly blocked the outside route from the forest to the road (covering the
southeastern side of the city), the only way to their goal was through the complex maze of slender streets and
markets that filled Peregrinno.

There were five warships stationed on the horizon, waiting until the signal was given from the Southern Watchtower
to move forward and attack from the reef that lay two hundred yards away from the city. Each ship was armed with
what Adarlans king had called the fire of the gods, heavy balls of iron that could smash through stone and wood, and
splatter a man into thousands of pieces. The ships would fire freely on the Western Wall that bordered the sea, and
hopefully do significant damage to the buildings nearby.

Gmord had been given orders to move forward as soon as the gate was taken, leaving a group of ten men to guide
the ships through the reef using whatever instructions they could find. From these ships, and the several others
staging an attack in the Gulf of Baello would come an army large enough to hold down Wendlyn until more of
Adarlans soldiers could arrive to bestow the killing blow upon the country. His king had instructed him to leave the
King of Wendlyn alive until he could arrive, but he had also mentioned that should Wendlyns ruler present any issues,
his death would be understood. Of course, Gmord had every intention of killing the King of Wendlyn regardless of
whether or not the man obeyed his orderswhat greater accomplishment could a general of his rank achieve than to
slay the ruler of his enemys country?

Smiling to himself, General Gmord turned away from Peregrinno as the sun splashed its walls with gold and pink,
knowing that soon he would be painting the town an entirely different color.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Queen Maeve of the Fae looked down into the silver pool that lay at the center of the cavern beneath the great tree, a
puzzled expression on her face. Behind her stood her nephew, Prince Raonn, waiting silently for her to speak once
more. The pool, called the Mirror of Bibbity by popular myth, was clouded.

The battle in the north had not ceasedbut thankfully, the Crown Prince was still alive. She knew the reasons for
which he had raced into the ranks of his fathers army and took heart in knowing that one day this young man would
be the king of Wendlyn. In a world that was slowly succumbing to the corruption of Adarlans empire, such a strong
and loving heart would be needed in order to win back what was wrongfully taken.

Maeve raised her ancient eyes from the depths of the pool and turned to her nephew. I have seen many things that
confuse me, Raonn, she said, and the prince relaxed at the use of his name.

The battle in Baello continues? he questioned, and Maeve nodded in response.

Adarlans new weapon of flaming iron does much damage to our shores, but there has been no contact between their
soldiers and our own. Maeve glanced back at the pool, and then to her kinsman once more. While he knew much, the
silver-haired youth was as untested as Wendlyns Crown Prince. Through her dreams and time spent by the Mirror of
Bibbity, Queen Maeve knew that one day the Fae Prince would leave the shores of this country and take part in a fate
much larger than even he suspected. Maeves heart clenched. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

But it is not the Gulf of Baello that troubles me, she continued. In the Mirror I saw another battle, a battle of
bloodshed unseen in this land in thousands of years. I could not make out where the battle was, but I could sense
great fear and terrorand an immense sense of surprise. The town was on the water, small and insignificant, yet its
purpose was much more than one would guess

Maeve trailed off and looked at the sword at Raonns side. Though she had been through many wars and seen many
countries rise and fall around her, chills ran down her ivory arms. Battle may come to our woods.

The Fae can hold their own against mortal skills, he dismissed. If we can defeat the Valg, Adarlans forces should
bother us no more than a small parasite.

With our dwindling numbers and with Adarlans new weapon, you should not be so swift to assume an easy victory. A
battle may be more detrimental to our kind than you believe, Prince Raonn.

Why not send out messengers to the Ashryvers? Surely their army can add to the numbers of each ocean-side
towns garrison.

Maeve shook her head. It would be foolish to divide up the army in such a manner. No, Wendlyns army will not be
present for this battleit is a battle between Adarlan and the strength of Wendlyns common folk.

The roots that lined the ceiling of the cave seemed to tighten, as if bracing themselves for a storm that threatened to
uproot it. Maeve motioned to Raonn to depart, and after many silent steps upwards into the midday light, she looked
up at the great tree sprawling above them.

She looked out at the beauty and calm of her realm and dark shadows crept into the corners of her eyes. I only
hope, she said, more to herself than to him, that there will be someone in their ranks with the strength and cunning
to lead them.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Celaena Sardothiens arms and back ached beneath the weight of the shopping bags and boxes that had been piled
upon her by the Baroness and her two awful daughters. Apparently, Peregrinno had the best shoes in the area, but
why that meant they had to buy hats and gloves and dresses was beyond the assassins comprehension.

Prince Raonn had worked her into a state of exhaustion the night before, and now her body ached all over as a result.
He had had her swinging, fighting, flipping, and twirling from those parallel barsand similar typeswell into the
early evening. Though, she had to admit, she had never thought that the Fae prince would be such a good instructor.

As Celaena passed the houses and shops of Peregrinno, she found herself applying the knowledge she had learned the
night beforenoticing where she might be able to nimbly fight and gain an advantage where others would only see a
common thing like a gutter or laundry line. It soon became a kind of game to pass the time and distract her from the
achings and throbbings of her body. The afternoon was nearing to a close, and Celaena squinted her eyes against the
blinding light, wondering when the wretched women would finish their senseless spending.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The young guard at the southern watchtower of Peregrinno vomited for a second time, his hands shaking so badly
that he could barely hold his sword. All around him lay blood and carnage, and from the vaulted doorways of the
atrium to his left, he could hear and partially see the army that had attacked without mercy or warning only ten
minutes before. His friends were all deadhacked to pieces or simply run through with a killing blow. He had escaped
the initial attack by mere luck and some skill, and now hid behind an empty wine barrel, but he knew that his good
fortunes would soon expire. The soldiers had left the hallway that he was in, moving into the atrium and beyond to
search the watchtower for whatever they were after and rip down the gate that kept them from the town.

He knew that they were from Adarlan: they all wore capes of the same fashion and colorredand they had a
blankness in their eyes that only comes from a life void of magic and joy.

Before the young soldier of Peregrinno stretched a long hallway, and along it stood four giant vats of still, dark liquid
that he knew were not for drinking. They were the Tunnel Trumpets, each elevated vat representing a direction on the
compass. In them was a liquid that, when lit, would send a howling noise straight to whichever great city was nearest.
Since they lay upon the sea, the tunnel that would have gone westward was said to lead straight to the realm of the
Fae at the base of the Eastern Mountains. The soldier, not knowing much else of geography, knew that the Eastern
Trumpet would send warning directly to the capital city, but where the other two went, he knew not.

Because no war had come to Wendlyn in hundreds of years, the Tunnel Trumpets had gone unused and forgotten. It
was only because his father had once been town historian that the soldier had known of their power and useand it
was only now that he could ignite them. It was a long hallway, exposed to the soldier-filled atrium, but if he could just
have ten seconds of free running, he could set each vat ablaze.

Within minutes, he knew that Adarlans forces, however large they might be, would be upon his town, and that it
might already be too late for any chance of salvation. The youth looked at the torch on the wall, and then glanced at
the soldiers massing in the courtyard. Most of them had their backs to him, and would not see him until the first or
second vat was lit. If he could make it to the last two

Wiping away the blood that streamed down his forehead and into his eyes, the young man raised a bloody hand to the
wall beside him and plucked the torch from its place, crouching back down behind the barrel. He sheathed his sword,
knowing that he would never use it again, and peeked around the barrel to make sure the path was clear.

For his family, for his countryOnly four vats, only ten seconds

His breath began to come more quickly, and the young soldier braced himself as he stood to do the bravest thing he
would ever accomplish.

He flew like a jackrabbit across the hallway, his feet barely hitting the cobblestones. Within seconds he reached the
first vat, and, not stopping to see if it lit, slammed his torch down into its liquid. From the heat he suddenly felt
behind him as he continued to race onward, he knew the first vat had been lit. He was upon the second one, and
ignited it just as he had the first. By the time he passed the third vat, he knew that the guards to his left had seen
him. The fourth one was only a few feet away

Then the fourth one was lit, and the soldier realized he was still alive. There was a wooden door at the end of the
hallway that he hoped had still gone undiscovered, and he rushed towards it like a bat out of the depths of hell. With a
surge of strength, he hurled himself upon it, flinging it open and racing beyond the watchtower only to find himself in
the midst of a few soldiers. They turned to him, surprised, but he did not falter and slammed into one of them as he
passed.

The watchtower lay at the base of a hill that led up to the city, and the exhausted youth threw all of his strength into
his legs as he climbed its steep side. He must warn the town, he must warn his family to flee

And then a force rammed into his back that sent him sprawling into the dirt. He felt blinding pain seize his body, but
got to his feet. There was a whizzing sound and an impact on his left shoulder, and he screamed in pain. His family,
his friends, his town

He turned his head to look behind him and saw three soldiers laughing with malice at another who held a bow and
quiver of arrows in his hands. They were hunting him as they would an animal. But then the soldier saw something
that made him stagger to his feet and run as fast as he could up the hill.

An army, illuminated by the cascading sun, stretching beyond the watchtower, numbering not in the hundreds, but in
the thousands.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien rolled her eyes as Marghenna stuffed the last chocolate into her mouth and handed the box to
Celaena. They stood at the Southern edge of the city, and the Baroness had about finished shopping inside the finest
fan shop in town. When the awful woman reappeared and handed Celaena three small boxes, the assassin felt her jaw
drop.

This was outrageous! That she, Celaena Sardothien, should have to do such menial labor was a crime that could not
go unpunished! The assassin was about to throw their purchases into the Baroness face when she saw something that
made her drop them to the ground instead.

A young man, barely more than a boy, had reached the top of the hill, and was gushing blood like a fountain. The
assassin saw the two arrow shafts that lay buried in his back, and a stone of fear dropped into her belly. She rushed
over to him as he collapsed to the ground, a red stream flowing from the sides of his mouth. From behind her,
Celaena heard the three women scream in terror and disgust.

Adarlan, he gasped, and struggled to stand again, staining Celaenas jacket with his blood-coated hands as he tried
to raise himself. His brown eyes stared into hers, and Celaenas skin prickled as she saw Death lurking in their
shadows.

Adarlan, he said once more, Adarlan has co

His words were silenced as Celaena heard the wailing of an arrow and then the hollow thud as it connected with his
spine. Blood poured from his mouth onto her clothes, and she stepped back in surprise and horror. As he fell to the
ground before her, Celaena saw what he had tried to communicate.

Not just one or two wretched men from Adarlan, but all of one of Adarlans many armies. The screams of the three
women turned into the screams of many as they saw what had befallen the youth and what lay beyond the edge of
the hill.

Celaena had never been in a battle before, and she had hoped to avoid it until the day she died, but as the sky
temporarily blackened with arrows, she knew that the only way in which she was to keep her head on her shoulders
was to keep a sound one between her ears.

The arrows fell all around her like rain, and the assassin used the boys body as a shield. Three impacts were made on
his destroyed body, and for each one she felt her stomach rise in her throat. When the storm had ceased, she hurled
him upon the ground, unsheathed his sword, and ran back towards the heart of the town. There had been lighted
arrows, for several buildings were beginning to ignite, and as Celaena reached the Baroness and her two daughters,
who were on the ground by the store, screaming and crying, the first of Adarlans soldiers came over the lip of the hill.

Run, she bellowed at them, and when the three women did not respond, she picked up the Baroness by the back of
her dress and shoved her forward. The womans face was taught and pale and her daughters rose to their feet. Run
to the Eastern Gate, Celaena yelled at them above the rising din of massacre, there you will find your horses. Ride
them as fast as you can back to the chateau and warn whoever you meet along the way!
Her words had just escaped her lips when the first of the soldiers assaulted them. He was a tall man, barrel-chested
and heavily bearded, and he made a wide swipe at Celaena with his sword, which she nimbly ducked and slammed
her weapon through the unprotected gap in the side of his armor. The man let out a stifled cry and fell backwards.
Celaena, unable to free her sword, was dragged down with the dying man, and she turned her head to the three
women.

Fly! she screamed at them. FLY!

Needing no further encouragement, the Baroness and her two daughters turned and fled, vanishing into the chaos of
the burning town.

Celaena, upon her knees, yanked her sword free of the mans corpse, and found another soldier upon her, his eyes
glinting with wickedness, his sword raised above his head as if to slice her in two. The assassin rolled to the side as
his stroke fell, and his blade sounded against the armor of his fallen friend. In the seconds that it took him to recover
against the impact of his blow, he died. Celaena took her sword in both her hands and knocked his head from his
shoulders as a child would swing a bat.

Seeing the mindless slaughter that was beginning, Celaena charged at the nearest soldier, not caring that she was
truly on their side, only seeing that the defenseless were being killed like animals. She didnt know why the army had
attacked, and had she not been too busy killing the man in front of her, perhaps she would have felt pangs of betrayal
and confusion. The roofs of the buildings around her burned, and Celaena coughed as plumes of smoke clogged the
streets.

She fought her way through the streets, fighting soldiers that seemed to be in front and in back of her at all times,
stabbing them where their armor was weakest, slicing off their heads when she had a clear shot. In the smoke and
screaming, it was difficult for her to tell who was peasant and who was soldier, but she soon figured out that the red
capes each of them bore made good identification markers. There were few peasants fighting around her, some with
their small daggers, others with whatever they could findpots, pans, tongs: anything that would block a sword and
hopefully knock out a soldier.

The soldiers from behind her pressed them towards the center of the city, the marketplace, and the assassin soon
found herself fighting backwardsand to keep herself vertical. Bodies lay all around her, and as they reached the
circular marketplace, their number increased. No matter how many heads she severed, there were always five or six
more soldiers just out of reach, just raising their swords to kill someone else, pushing them further and further into
the city.

To her left, she heard a high-pitched cry of terror, and saw a young woman, close to her age, cornered in an open-air
stable, two soldiers approaching her with swords and intentions that the assassin immediately recognized. Darting
past fleeing villagers and flailing her already-heavy sword at whatever silver she saw, Celaena slammed herself into
the first soldier, sending them both into the dirt. He was more agile than she expected, and he flipped her off of his
back, her muscles releasing long enough for her sword to fly from her hands. Celaena spun herself around on the
ground fast enough for her booted foot to kick him hard in his broad face, crunching his nose beneath her heel. He
howled in pain, and lunged at her, but Celaenas knee bent and then released twice more, kicking him again in the
nose, and then pivoting to break his jaw in two. Her sword was just out of reach

He raised his sword, his face already bloody and blue, but before he could lift it high enough to harm her, she took his
head in between her two feet and, with a swift motion and strength that came from her sturdy upper thighs, snapped
his neck. The second soldier, seeing that his comrades assailant was more than qualified to torture him until he
begged for death, had attempted to drag the young woman away, but she had some fire in her, and held on to a
wooden post for dear life.

The soldier, in frustration and rage, hit the woman across the face, and put his sword to her throat. Celaena knew
that he might very well kill her before she could reach them, and so she threw herself upon the dead soldier and
snatched the small dagger that he had kept in his boot. With a flick of her wrist, Celaena hurled the blade at the
soldier, and his muscles seized and then relaxed as the blade buried itself in the base of his skull.

Celaena looked at the young woman, whose red-gold hair fell in large spirals, and nodded in recognition before
charging off towards the Western end of the city, where several soldiers seemed to be heading. She struck down two
with her blade and snapped the neck of a third, but there were over a dozen ahead of her, chasing after what she
realized were children. The thought filled her with rage.
For Adarlan to attack in the North was one thing, but to attack a town so close to her chateauand to so mercilessly
carry it out

Celaena scooped up a shield and a new dagger from a soldier she had just slain. The dagger she placed in her boot,
and the shield she hung over her left arm, swinging it a few times in the arm before she raced after the villainous
soldiers in pursuit of the most innocent of game.

Down a hill they raced, and the sea came into view. Celaena stumbled over a body, and probably would have vomited
or wept in horror at the childs butchered frame, but a new terror lurked beyond the cobblestone streets. Five
warshipseach bearing Adarlans flagsat two hundred yards out to sea. Even from her distance, she could see that
there were more soldiers on board; thousands of them all together, each wearing real armor: the armor of a
conquering empire.

Celaena, in desperation and fury, sped faster after the soldiers and the children, and flung herself upon the first man
she saw, knocking him senseless with her iron shield. Another turned to her, and she caught his face beneath the chin
in a staggering blow from her shield. When he raised his face as a result, she sliced his throat open with a quick
backhanded swipe of her sword.

Ahead of her, the children began screaming; and Celaena at first believed it to be because of another death, but she
soon sawand feltthe source of their fear.

It seemed as if several things had exploded from the sides of the closest warship, projecting something that raced
towards them, growing bigger and darker by the second. Celaena looked at the great Sea Wall that lay at the end of
their street, and then at the racing object.

There was a wailing that silenced everything for a moment and made her skin crawl, and then the sound of impact
shook the air like thunder. In horror, Celaena saw the Sea Wall burst into hundreds of pieces, rock and mortar
showering the ground. The children screamed, and Adarlans soldiers suddenly charged after them again, their
strength renewed by their countrys new monstrosity.

But before the soldiers could lay a finger upon the children, a group of sentrieseach wearing Wendlyns crest
attacked them, some of them skilled with a blade, others shielding the children. Celaena, reaching them once more,
slew two more soldiers before another wailing cry filled the air and another section of wall was blown apart. There was
screaming and yelling, and then suddenly a noisethe sound of a hornfilled the city, and Wendlyns sentries turned
to each other and pointed towards a small stable that lay not a hundred feet away. They charged after it, each picking
up or dragging along the children, who also seemed to understand the strange horn, and soon Celaena found herself
before eight soldiers, each of whom was twice her size.

She dodged the blow of the first one, and killed the man behind him while the soldier spun to face her. Springing past
him, Celaena turned and swiped at his head with her sword in a broad blow that sliced his forehead open. Gathering
her strength, she shoved the man down the slope of the street and into the other soldiers.

Not waiting to see if he toppled them like bowling pins, Celaena flew up the street once more, her legs burning with
exhaustion and her throat parched and aching. There were soldiers everywhereburning and chopping and raping
and Celaena, for the first time in the half hour she had been fighting, was suddenly overcome with fear and confusion.
She was in a town she did not know, in a country that was not her own, and had no idea where to hide for a
moments recovery. At her heels were the remaining child-slayers, and Celaena ran once more, heading towards the
market.

A blue light exploded to the East; and Celaena, startled, tripped. Several other blue lights roared into existence; and
Celaena, who was about to start running towards one of them, suddenly felt herself grabbed from behind.

It was a strong and swift grab, and she was thrown to the ground. But before she could manage to find her assailant,
a blue light glowed all around her, blinding her. When her eyes cleared, she was on her feet with her sword poised
and ready to sting.

Easy, friend, a voice said, and Celaena turned around to find the eight sentries who had saved and run off with the
children. They were in a small stable filled with horses, and against the far wall huddled the nine children who had
been victim to Adarlans brutality.
Her breath was ragged and harsh in her throat, and Celaenas legs trembled beneath her weight. Sinking down into
the soft hay on the ground, Celaena dropped her sword and shield and heaved for air. Blood coated her coat and
pants, and from the sticky feel of it, her face and hair.

You fought wellwell beyond your genderor ours, the man said. Are you of the Fair Folk or are you simply a
traveler?

Celaena raised her head, feeling as if it weighed a hundred pounds, and looked at the man. He was in his thirties, with
a dark, well-groomed beard and kind green eyes. Do you mean the Fae? she breathed. The man nodded, and the
whimpering children stopped for a moment to stare at her.

Thats the girl who saved our necksthe one I told you about! a chubby redheaded boy exclaimed to the man,
pointing a stubby finger in her direction. Shes certainly Fae if I ever I saw one! Fights faster than lightning and runs
like the wind! As vicious as a wildcat and yet as kind asas

The boy paused to think of another comparison, but the man signaled for his silence. He turned back to Celaena with
raised brows.

Celaena took the water flask that another soldier offered her and drank greedily, wiping the water from her mouth
with her sleeve when she had finished. I am not pureblooded Fae, she admitted. Only an eighth or something
insignificant like that.

Significant enough to give you an advantage over those men, the sentry replied. I am Colwir, captain of
Peregrinno. My squadron and I were stationed in the Western Watchtower when Adarlan attacked, which is why we
were able to meet you as we did.

Celaena was about to tell him her name when she saw something that made her gasp aloud. At the door of the stable
and all around it she supposedwas a wall of blue light. Like lightning, veins of yellow and silver and all sorts of
colors flashed across it; and before it stood a young man, panting profusely.

Is that Celaena choked on the word. Magick?

More a shield than anything, but yes, Colwir replied, it is magick. Surely youve seen something like it before

Getting his point, Celaena looked at him again. Aelin, she said, and then wished she hadnt spoken. Aelin of, was
there any way that they could detect a lie? Adarlan.

No! the redheaded child burst in again. You cant be from Adarlan! Colwir, shes lying!

Colwir studied her face, and then shook his head at the child. She speaks the truth. Though how someone with Fae
blood wound up in Adarlan is beyond me. If you are from that beastly country, why then, Aelin, did you fight to save
our lives?

Celaena looked at the children against the wall and fingered her ring. Adarlan stole and butchered my country. I have
no love for it or its king.

The youth at the shield of magick gasped, and Celaenas brows narrowed. How long will the shield last?

As long as his strength holds out. He is partially Fae as wellraised by his grandmother, who taught him what little
she knew. But the spell of the shield comes from the Fortress, not from him. Hes simply tapping into it.

Celaena shook her head, not understanding and suddenly wishing she had listened to more of what Maeve had told
her about the nature of magick.

In times of distress and battle, the Town Elders are able to shield the Fortress as Faandur here has donebut in
doing so, they are also able to apply their shield to the rest of the town. But because none of them are either full-
blooded Fae or royal, their town-wide shield only goes as far as a spell whispered in the wind. For anyone with the
skill, they can tap into it and strengthen it with their own power. Faandur has done that. When that horn sounded, it
signaled the readying of the spell. For us, it was a matter of time and spacewe had to find a space that could fit us
all and in as little time as possible for the spell is sure to be blown away with the sea wind. When we saw the blue
light glow, we knew it was time for him to throw his magick into the spells mixture and guard our strong hold for as
long as his power stays with him.

Lucky for you, Colwir continued, I was able to grab you in here before Faandur activated the spell and sealed us in
here. At first, I didnt know why you hadnt joined us, but now its clear to me that our customs are foreign to you.

So, the shield means that no one can get in or out?

Correct, Colwir said. He turned to his eight soldiers, who were tending to the wounds of the children and
themselves. Saddle those horses and prepare to ride. Faandurs strength will give out in less than ten minutes, and
we must make for the Fortress.

Celaenas jaw dropped. Youre going to ride through the streets with children? There are thousands of soldiers out
there, you wont make it through the marketplace.

The streets are empty, Colwir said, and Celaena shook her head in confusion.

Listen, the captain told her, Do you hear their awful howling and laughter? They have stopped with those iron balls
too. They have moved onto another part of the cityprobably the Fortress.

If theyve surrounded the Fortress, then theres no way we can possibly get in. Theyd have to take down their shield
first and that would cause Adarlans army to break in. You should make for your Northern Gate and flee to the
country.

The Northern Gate has long been sealed, Colwir replied. And as for the shield, it is possible to make a hole in it for
one to pass through. It just takes extra strength and concentration. The army will be assaulting the Southern
entrance of the Fortress, I can assure you since the only other way is a small gate to the West that only a single horse
can fit through.

So youre going to take these children through a city filled with soldiers, and then hope that there will be a safe space
for you to pass through into the fortress? That is folly! Celaena cried.

As captain of Peregrinno, I Colwir began.

As captain of common sense, I think its the stupidest idea Ive ever heard! Youll all be butchered! While the people
of your country and army have some shred of compassion, these men have none. They are born in hardship and
raised in evil and they know nothing of mercy or love. They think only of their kings gains and the task before them,
and they would slay gods if it would better their kings advances in a war. Theyve tricked your army into fighting in
Baello, drawing them as far away from here as possibleby the time your army realizes what has happened, this
town will be ash.

Colwir was silent. You have seen Adarlans armies destroy your country, I do not doubt your word. But it is the only
way. Once Faandurs strength fails, we will be exposed here. The only way to safety is the Fortress. We can risk
staying here and having ourselves burnt or butchered, as you said, or we can make a run for it and risk being safe for
some time. Perhaps the Fortress can hold out against Adarlan long enough for our army to arrive. I do not know how
Adarlan managed to get such a force in here undetected, but that is not a matter to worry about nowthere are at
least two thousand of them, and while there are around two and a half thousand of us, the majority are merchants
and craftsmen who know nothing of fighting.

So? Celaena said, and felt strangely childish afterwards. His plan was sound, but she had counted the horses and
realized that there were only enough for each of them, Faandur included, to take a child into their saddle. She would
have another life in her hands, plus a massive beast to handle, plus find a way to fight on horseback. It was a
daunting task.

We could use someone with your skill. How many men did you bring down back there? Over two dozen? Thats more
than all of my men and I combined. You have some knowledge of battle, or at least you are very good at killing
people, and not even I have been in a battle before, let alone killed a man. The Town Elders are in a similar position.
For the sake of my town and country, I plead with you, Colwirs eyes filled with urgency and desperation, to ride to
the Fortress with us. I saw you calculating our numbers against the horses. Two children will have to ride together on
a horse, and each of us can bear only one.
But Faandur, she began, and then saw the panting youth and realized what his fate was to be. She lowered her eyes
and then looked at the children once more. They had stopped crying, and now stared at the captain and the assassin
with intense interest and fear. The redhead and the smallest take the horse alonehe has a bold tongue, surely his
courage will not fail to be of the same degree, she said loudly enough for him to hear, and his eyes brightened.

I can smite down any soldier that so dares to lay a finger on myself and

You will ride in the center of the company, Colwir said, and Celaena nodded in agreement.

You will need a diversion, Celaena said suddenly. Someone to distract the guards while you and the others go by
the side-streets to safety.

It is true. But which of my m

I will go, she interrupted. While you may need my skill at the Fortress, you need it now more than ever. If I have
to face the soldiers, I can hold them off long enough for you to make it to safety, but

She trailed off, and Colwir rubbed his face in sorrow, knowing what choice lay ahead of them. Colwirs men brought
the horses forth, and the captain told them of their plan. They were to ride towards the market, but break off before it
opened up and ride through the side streets at his direction, while Celaena and a volunteering child would ride
through the market, then take the Northern Road long enough to intercept the Eastern Road, where they would turn
down another road that would take them to the small door that Colwir had spoken of.

The redheaded child mounted his horse and took the youngest of his group, who couldnt have been more than six, up
behind him. He looked down at Celaena, and smiled. Aelin of Adarlan, while you may come from a vile place, I hope
that we shall meet again in the fortress!

Celaena returned the boys smile and wished him luck. She turned to Colwir. I do not know which one shall go with
me, she murmured, and he shook his head.

Celaena felt a tug on her belt, and she whirled to find herself looking upon a girl of about ten or eleven. I shall ride
with you, Aelin of Adarlan, she said with a voice that trembled. She was frail and looked as if she could break in two
just from mounting the horse.

Celaena opened her mouth to object, but the girl grabbed her arm so strongly that Celaenas eyes widened in
surprise. My brother, the girl pleaded, and pointed to the young boy on the redheads horse.

The assassins heart felt tight, and her eyes shone as they moistened. For her brothers safety, his sister would ride to
her death. Celaena glanced at Colwir, who signaled his approval, and hoisted the girl into the saddle.

The assassin turned to the captain. I forgot to thank you for saving my life, she said, staring into his green eyes. I
owe you a debt that I hope I can now repay.

You helped to save these children and countless others: there was no debt to begin with, Aelin of Adarlan. Celaena
shook his hand, and turned to her horse, but he stopped her.

She watched him reach beneath his shirt and pull forth an amulet in the shape of Wendlyns crest.

My grandfather, he said, his voice mixed with pride and sorrow, received this from the previous king as a token for
a great favor he once did for Wendlyn. It is said to posses magickal powers, but what they are I know not. It has
brought luck and happiness to my family until now, and I hope that it will bring you the same in a few moments.

The assassin began to protest, but he shook his head. Consider it recognition for what you have done and what you
are about to do. With that, he placed it in her hands and mounted his own horse, pulling his child, a small girl, up
behind him.

Ride hard, Aelin of Adarlando not falter.

Celaena, without words, placed the pendant around her neck and tucked it into the folds of her shirt. Mounting her
horse, she looked around at the company, and then at Faandur, who, upon Colwirs signal, dropped the shield and
collapsed. They rode together in pregnant silence, the distant echo of fighting in the East filling their ears, but not
loud enough to drown out the clopping of their horses hooves. Each step seemed like a thunderclap, and Celaena
hoped that they wouldnt draw any attention before their plan had even begun. Colwir kicked his horse into a trot and
the others followed suit. They reached their side street and disappeared down it in a clattering of hooves. Celaena
squeezed the hand of the young girl.

What is your name? she whispered.

Cara, came the girls answer.

Cara, I want you to hold on very tightlywhatever happens, do not let go of me, understood?

A frightened whimper was her reply.

I do not fear them, Celaena whispered fiercely. Cara, I will not let anything happen to you, but I need you to be my
eyes and ears for I can only look one way. Is that clear?

Yes, the girl said.

The market came into view, and Celaena slammed her feet into the horses side, making a wild gallop across the wide
space. Bodies were littered everywhere, and the horse avoided and leapt over them with ease. Where were the
soldiers? Had they moved on?

The silence was eerie. Faster and faster they galloped, and were soon beyond the market. They turned down the
Northern Road, and then turned down the Eastern road, riding for their lives. Celaena had begun to believe that they
would make it without any conflictthat the battle did indeed lay upon the southern side of the fortress but then four
soldiers on horseback burst from what seemed like out of nowhere. Cara screamed, and even Celaena admitted a cry
of surprise.

The road they were to take was not too far away, only a few blocks down

A massive beast of a man bearing what she knew was a generals helmet galloped beside her and slammed into her
horses right flank, raising a twisted sword of wicked iron. Celaena reined her horse to the left, escaping him, and
made a sharp turn down the street. They leapt over the ruins of the market, crushing fruits and jewelry and clothes
beneath them. Behind her the four horsemen raced, and Celaena clung to the reins for dear life. The weight and size
of the child behind her prohibited her from doing as she wished, and Celaena realized with a pang of frozen terror that
she could only hope to outrun them.

The general was beside her once more, so close she could see his meaty face, and as he raised his sword to slay her
and the child, she lashed out with her right arm and slammed her elbow into his face. He stopped his assault for a
moment, surprised at the womans strength, and Celaena screamed to the horse to gallop faster, which it thankfully
did.

The Fortress came into view, and Celaena saw the small gate before them. All around the building there was a blue
wall of the same material of Faandurs, and she could make out shapes behind it, moving, running

Open the gate! she screamed, OPEN THE GATE!

The general was gaining on her again, and Celaena began to despair, but around the small door she saw a patch of
light appear, revealing the entrance. The real door swung open, and beyond it she could see people.

The hooves of their horses beat like drums. The warhorse of the general pounded the earth behind her, eating up her
dust like a starving man. Celaena bellowed at her horse once more; and, as the door to the Fortress approached,
clenched her eyes shut as the animal made a great leap through the portal.

There was a buzzing noise and behind her the clear blue shield had sealed again. Outside, pacing on his horse, was
the general. Celaena, still astride her horse, watched him. From his nose there was a fine trail of blood, and from the
looks of it, he had marked her for sure execution. She did not break his stare. His dead eyes bore into her skull, and
she returned his gaze with venomous hatred. This was the man that her employer had sent to destroy this country
this was the monster that had to fall before the rest of his army could do so. They stared into each others eyes, and
knew, in that moment, that while she had escaped him, they would finish their chase on the battlefield. She did not
know his name, and she was certain he did not know hers, but from that point onwards, they simply knew each other
as mortal enemies.

Behind her, she felt something give way, and Cara tumbled from the saddle into the arms of a woman who had
rushed forward. From the cries and kisses and hugs that the woman was freely dispensing, it was obviously the girls
mother. Celaena turned back to the general, but saw that the wooden door had finally been shut.

She was inside the Fortress.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Hidden beneath a mask of boredom, Dorian DeHavilliard intensely listened to the talk of his fathers advisors and
warlords, idly picking at the food on his plate. Up and down the long glass table, the men were speaking animatedly
about the great battle that was taking place in some small town across the ocean, boasting of the size and strength of
their armies, and clapping each other on the back whenever the flying balls of iron were brought up. There was no
talk of the assassin.

His father was seated at the center of the table upon one of his many glass thrones, devouring a leg of the poor
roasted beast that lay before him. Dorian, arriving late to dinner, had found that the chairs on either side of his father
had been taken by some advisor or another, and had seated himself to the far left of the mighty king. He was
surprised at his own relief upon finding both chairs occupied, and the Crown Prince realized with a pang of sadness
and anger that perhaps that position was now gone forever.

He was Crown Prince of Adarlan, but was he still his fathers son?

Dorian stared at his father, who was grinning broadly, and knew the answer. How had this come about? His father
was not a kind man, but he wasnt his enemy! He couldnt think of his father as Celaena didhe couldnt see him as a
cold-blooded tyrant who deserved

Prince, your food grows cold.

Dorian turned to the Minister of Trasien with raised brows.

Some thoughts, the old man said under his breath, are meant to be thought in privacy. He refilled Dorians glass
of wine. What do you think of this mighty battle of ours?

Dorian sipped at his refilled glass before answering. It sounds more like a massacre to me, he replied quietly.

All war is massacre, young prince. What are soldiers but legalized murderers?

But if this was the only way for us to breach Wendlyns borders, I will not disapprove of my fathers choice, he said,
and his cheeks flushed, knowing that both he and the minister knew that he was lying. One cannot control the entire
world, but I believe that once weve sacked Wendlyn, my father will be content to retire.

Dorian looked down at his father once more, and felt a surge of hatred as he saw the man grasp Duke Perringtonns
shoulder with the affection of a brother. Perringtonn seemed to be a more worthy candidate for the next King of
Adarlanand from the looks of it, he probably would be. When Dorian had arrived at dinner, his father had barely
nodded his head in recognition of his son. Upon Perringtonns arrival, the king had risen to embrace his friend and
advisor, making the man seated to his right move over a space to make room for his bulky body.

Retire? A king cannot retire, milord. And do you really believe that this one will stop once the fair hills of Wendlyn are
black and red?

Dorian DeHavilliard frowned. I believe that m

His words were cut short by the opening thunder of the huge oak doors of the dining hall. He pivoted in his seat to see
who had entered in such a boisterous manner, and saw a young man he had never laid eyes upon. His hair was
golden and fell to his shoulders, his skin bronzed and shining as a gods. Dorian, who had considered himself well
toned and muscular, felt like a scrawny squire before the rippling muscles of this warrior. Dorian turned to see his
father rise and open his arms in greeting.
Aedion! his father called in his booming voice, so enthusiastic that he sounded sarcastic. How pleasant of you to
finally join us!

The shining mans crystal blue eyes were cold and hard as he bowed before the king. The trip from my homeland is
not an easy one, my lord.

But surely one that would not take two months to complete, his father said with an edge to his voice that Dorian
knew too well.

The passes and trails of the Northern Mountains of Trasien are not easy to travel in the winter, even for me.
Arrogance that bordered on open spite coated his words.

Dorian had heard of this manthe great warrior of Trasien, the undefeatable, terror-inspiring Aedion. Looking at him,
the Crown Prince could tell why his father had sent him to the North to sort out whatever rebellion was going on. The
sword at his side was large; and from the fine engravings that Dorian could see in the hilt, extremely well made. The
shield he carried on his back was dented in several places, but free of any cracks or breaks. Here was a man that
could win or lose a battle.

When I summon a warrior, I mean for him to come as soon as possible, not dally in the mountains with the goats,
the king snarled. Aedion brushed back a tendril of his golden hair and stared blankly at the ruler in a manner that
Dorian could have sworn he had seen somewhere.

You missed the boats to Wendlyn, his father continued. I had to send Gmord in your place.

Aedion shrugged his shoulders, and Dorians hand left the table to reach to the sword at his side. This mans insolence
would cost him his life.

You may send me with the next batch, if that is your wish, Aedion said. But I can assure you that Wendlyn will
have fallen long before I arrive on its shores.

The King of Adarlan stared at the warrior, and then smiled slightly. Eat, Lord Aedionmake yourself comfortable at
my table.

Aedion nodded briskly and mounted the few stairs to the platform on which the table lay. Every step he took seemed
to be calculated and filled with the power and grace of a mountain cat. Dorian watched the man take a seat across
from him and begin to fill his plate without so much as a glance at the prince or the minister.

Dorian soon lost interest in watching the silent warrior eat, and looked towards his father again. Was he never to be
included in his fathers war councils? Had he known that his father had summoned Aedion to Renaril, perhaps they
could have given the warrior a proper greeting. He wanted desperately to ask his father every question on his mind,
especially those regarding Celaena Sardothien, but he knew that all they would do was raise more suspicion.

The thought made Dorian look around the table once more. Where was Roland? He had not seen the wretched youth
in what felt like weeks. He had probably gone off somewhere to sulk or spy. The Crown Prince tasted bitterness on his
tongue once more. He was beginning to feel what he imagined Celaena to have felt while staying in the palace:
watched, hunted, and trapped.

Anger boiled in his veins. He was a Crown Prince, not an assassin! When had he descended to Celaenas level? When
had his father stopped seeing him as heir and started seeing him as threat? His father had no other children, so it was
foolish of him to place the fate of his empire on the shoulders of a son who was beginning to feel nothing but
contempt for him. Unless

Dorian saw Perringtonn and his father deep in conversation. Perringtonn was more than ten years younger than his
father. Perringtonn was married to Kaltain Rompier. But Perringtonn was only a cousinand not even a cousin of first
rank!

Dorian downed the rest of his wine in angry gulps and nearly slammed the glass goblet down upon the table, his eyes
not leaving the figures of his father and Perringtonn. Was he to be executed then? Hung or poisoned or perhaps
treated as the Princess Anuksun: butchered while guards turned a blind eye in his direction?

He had to tell Chaol.

But his friend was on duty tonight, and would not be available for at least a day. Dorian was about to turn to the
Minister of Trasien when Aedion spoke.

It surprises me to see a prince look at his king in such a manner. His voice was soft, yet strong enough for Dorian to
hear and tell that the warrior was testing him. Agitated, Dorians brows lowered. Surely he knew that he was Crown
Prince of Adarlanhow dare he speak to him in such a manner?

It surprises me, Dorian snarled quietly, that a soldier would speak to a Crown Prince in such a manner.

Aedion arrogantly tossed his hair out of his face in a motion that made Dorian go from annoyed to almost irate. He
had seen this mans mannerisms somewhere before, and it made him almost as angry not to know where they came
from as it did to see them used.

If youre your fathers son, why are you not seated at his side? Aedions sapphire eyes glowed.

Aedion, the Minister of Trasien said with such warning and strength that both young men turned to look at him.

Well, look who it is. Tiryn of Trasien, advisor to kings and queens and fools alike, Aedion drawled. Still alive are
you?

Just as alive as you, boy, the minister retorted with a sharpness that was unknown to the Crown Prince.

If you consider this life as living, you and I are both corpses.

Youve always had such a bright outlook on life, Aedion.

You can thank your new king for that.

Watch what you say, Aedion of Trasien, Tiryn replied. While your brashness and arrogance might win you battles
and the faith of your men, here it will only win you a trip to the gallows.

Aedion snorted with contempt, and Dorian watched him with growing curiosity. There was something so familiar in his
mannerisms

I do not fear death, the warrior boasted, taking a gulp of his drink.

Perhaps you should start thinking more of your country than your own glorification. There are many who would not
benefit from your deathand many that would suffer. Over the clang and boastful laughter and talk of the thirty
other men at the table, it was hard for Dorian to make out what was being said.

For me not to go to Wendlyn would be a blessing for them.

I do not speak of Wendlyn or Adarlan, Tiryn replied.

Then you speak of times and opportunities long since past, old man. Perhaps your age has addled your senses.

Dorian gaped in disbelief at Aedions disrespect. This could hardly be the famous, golden warrior of the North!

Aedion rose, and bowed to the king as he left the table without further word. Dorian and the minister were silent for a
few moments before the old man turned to him once more. Come with me, Crown Prince.

They took their leave and left the hall together, a move that made Dorians stomach clench with worry. His father was
already watching him and the ministerWas this a sign of open revolt?

Your father is too preoccupied with thoughts of victory to be suspicious, Prince Dorian. You neednt worry, Tiryn
muttered.

The minister led him through the guests quarters of the palace, and stopped at a wooden door, knocking twice. There
was a grunt of acknowledgement, and they walked into the room. Dorian, to be honest, had expected to see Chaol or
some other figure associated with their bizarre quest to understand the Minister of Trasiens riddles and intrigue. But
instead he saw Aedion, seated at a washbasin, scrubbing his dirt-caked arms and legs.

Dorian glanced at the leather and metal armor that had been carefully set on an armor stand, taking in the small
chinks and marks that were clearly the product of many battles and duels. His shield was more like a piece of art than
anything else: black and gold with swirls and waves along the edges that looked as if they had been painstakingly
painted on.

Ive had a long journey, old manI do not need to hear your banter.

Listen well, Aedionyour fate rests upon it.

I dont see why the princeling is here, Aedion motioned towards Dorian with a jerk of his chin. The Crown Prince
stiffened at the insult, but said nothing.

His fate is tied with yours.

Really? Aedion sneered. It doesnt seem that way. If my fate is so closely interwoven with his, why does he not
introduce himself?

If you werent so damned arrogant, Dorian burst in, having enough of the warriors contempt, perhaps I would.

Aedion cocked his golden head to the side, another gesture that irked the prince. Well, thats the pot calling the
kettle black, isnt it? Word of your arrogance is widespread, Crown Prince. More widespread than mine. But aside from
your born title, what have you done to earn it?

Dorians pulse began to race with anger. He could feel the magick stir in his blood. Tiryn, sensing the danger, placed a
calming hand on his shoulder. There is much you have yet to learn about Dorian DeHavilliard, Aedion. And there is
much that he has yet to learn about you.

The Minister of Trasien motioned for them to sit. Dorian crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, staring coolly at
the warrior.

My allegiance to your father hangs by a thread, prince, Aedion said, moving from the washbasin to untie his laced
sandals. A thread of blood linked only by a marriage that ended long ago. Know that I do not serve your country
willingly.

Dorian looked to the minister, who smiled kindly. Aedion is from the house of Ashryver.

The Crown Prince started forward, suddenly wondering if the minister had been planning to assassinate him all along,
but Aedion spoke.

I was born and raised in Trasien. My aunt Evaelien was the wife of the nephew of the King of Trasien. She and her
husband, Rhoe Galathynius, and the rest of Trasiens royal court raised me after my parents died when I was six.
When I was twelve, your father murdered my aunt, uncle, cousin, and kingand I was taken from the palace in
Trasien and hidden in the mountains by the court members still loyal to Trasiens true ruler. They trained me in the
ways of a warrior for ten years. When your father decided the Mountain Region needed a good purging, he found me
grown and defending my homeand instead of ending my life, he took me into his army. And here I am, your
greatest warrior, the golden youth of Adarlan. Is my shield still as impressive to you?

Dorian stared at him in silence. Aedions worn armor and weapons suddenly seemed more like constraints and
shackles than anything else. No wonder his father had sent him far into the mountainsfor all his worth on the
battlefield, Dorian realized that Aedion could be just as deadly in court. His father wouldnt be able to control him for
long, and how could he possibly

Minister, Dorian said after a moment. Do you mean to begin a civil war? Across from him, Aedion laughed, but the
minister shook his head sadly.

The day your father took Trasiens throne for his own was the day the civil war began.
Dorian, flushing with anger and shame, rose to his feet. It was his by right! He was the King of Trasiens cousin!
When they died, it came to his possession! He didnt murder them!

Aedion laughed again, and the Crown Prince whirled to face him. Do you remember me at all? Aedion asked, his
blue eyes blazing. Because I remember you. A pretty little boyaround seven years old, accompanying your father
on a friendly visit to Trasiens court. Do you remember when you spoke out of turn and your father slapped you so
hard across the face that you fell to the ground and wept like a baby? Yes, he left you there, and my little cousin, my
dear sweet Aelin, came to comfort you. Do you remember the night my king and family were butchered?

The warriors words triggered something the princes memory. He did remember. He remembered the girl with the
golden hair and blue eyeshe remembered his father slapping him before Trasiens court and leaving him to weep in
pain, and he remembered the cool and soft hands of the young princess, Aelin Galathynius, upon his face and the way
she smiled at him

She had died that night as well. Whether by his hand or otherwise, his father had killed that young girl.

She would have been my queen someday. And your father took her from me with as much mercy as a butcher
slaughtering a cow. A vein in Aedions forehead was bulging with barely-suppressed anger. He turned to Tiryn, and
his face seemed to suddenly shiftbecoming feral in a way that frightened Dorian more than hed like to have
admitted.

You should not have come here, old man, Aedion said with deadly calm. You should have left me to fight in this war
and go back to my mountains.

The minister did not blink or move, but instead said to Dorian: Prince, I believe you should get back to your research
in the libraryperhaps check in the large tome on the expansion of your fathers kingdom

He wanted to exclaim that he was the Crown Prince and would not be ordered around in such a manner, especially if
he were to be a pawn in some game the minister was playing. He felt a spiteful urge, just for a moment, to go to his
father and tell him of the ministers actions and of Aedions hatred for their country, but then he realized that hed be
punished along with the rest of them for

The word hit him like a wave, and made his feet move swiftly from the room.

Treason.

He was committingand had committedtreason against his own country. Against his own father. This had to stop.
He could not betray his own country in such a manner. He could not defy his father and his people and everything he
had known his entire life for a war and a motive that he still did not understand.

He remembered, with full clarity, the many times his father had publicly beaten him. Was he the kind of man that
would wage a war on his father for wounded pride? Aside from pillaging and conquering countries, what harm had his
father really done? What harm had his father done to him?

He thought of Aedions blazing eyes and dented shield, and of the sad smile of the Minister of Trasien.

Did he want to go down in history as the son of a tyrant? Did he want to serve under a tyrant, and possibly become
one someday?

I couldnt.

But how willing would his future advisors and armies be to give back what was forcefully taken? That had been his
plan all alongif his first plan of ruling peacefully had failed. There was nothing wrong, even after the years and lives
spent in conquering, in giving back the land to its rightful rulers. But it had never occurred to him that he might have
to fight to return it. But fight whom? Once his father died, who would

Perringtonn.

An old man, an assassin, the Captain of the Guard, and Adarlans greatest warrior. That was all he had on his side.
Running a hand through his dark hair, Dorian DeHavilliard wondered if he would even have that to count on should
the worst happen.

As soon as the door had closed, Tiryn, Minister of Trasien, turned to Aedion. You should not be so scornful with him.
He is not his fathers son, and his opinion of you may greatly affect your fate later on.

Aedion, who had removed his sandals, began to remove his sword-belt. I could care less what that pretty boy of a
prince thinks of me. His fathers son or not, I would not serve under him.

But would you serve under a queen?

Aedion looked at the man sharply. Your words, as usual, are puzzling. Your time is waning, so you had best be direct
for once.

The old man sighed, and stood up, as if weighing what he were about to say, and then said quietly: What if I were to
tell you that your queen still lives?

Before the sound of his sword being drawn had finished echoing through the room, Tiryn found Aedions sword at his
wrinkly throat.

You lie, he spat, but the minister did not wince.

If she is alive, where is she? the warrior snarled with a desperation that gave the old man courage.

In Wendlyn, if you must know.

Aedion stared into his eyes, and then removed his sword, throwing it on the bed before he sat down. What in Hell is
she doing there?

Would you like to hear the answer that would please you or one that will cause you distress.

Whichever is the truth, I choose to hear it.

Have you heard of an assassin under the name Celaena Sardothien?

Aedion thought for a moment, and then nodded. Yes, but the last I heard, he was in slavery for his crimes.

The minister smiled once more, and shook his head slowly. Not he, he said, his eyes twinkling. She.

Aedion blinked, and then blinked once more, shaking his golden locks in frustration. I dont understand.

Seventeen years ago, Aelin Galathynius fell to her death into an icy river. Though we searched for months while our
country was ravaged, we never found her. It turns out she was right under our noses. About two miles down the river
there was an abandoned castleor so we thought. Before it was burned down three years ago, it was the
headquarters of the Assassins Guild. The morning after the assassination of Rhoe and Evaelien, the lord of the
assassins, Arobynn Hamel, was riding along the shore of the river when he came across a young girl lying in the
reeds, half-dead and nearly frozen. He assumed she was doomed to die, and took out his dagger to spare her life. But
before his dagger fell, he saw the pendant she wore around her neck and knew instantly who she was. A plan formed
in his minda plan forged out of hatred for Adarlan and selfish greed and glory. He took the girl from the river and
nursed her back to health.

When she awoke, she knew nothing but terror and grief, which he preyed upon and manipulated with sadistic charm.
He told her she could never return to her family because it would mean their deaths, and over the course of nine
years, he made her into the greatest assassin in the world. Just as the magick in your veins made you into the best of
warriors, she became the best of killers. From her seventeenth year to her twenty-third, she reigned as Adarlans
assassin, slaying politicians and rulers alike, destroying Adarlan as best she could. She was Arobynns puppet, the
sword he forged to gain revenge for his countrys massacre.

He killed her lover, who might very well have later become her husband, in order to keep his control over her. I
assume that his ultimate goal was for her to kill the king of Adarlan, and then reclaim her throne or something along
those lines. But then something happened that he did not intend: she was caught. He was certain of her execution,
but was extremely surprised when the king threw her into slavery in the salt mines instead. There ended the journal
of Arobynn Hamel, which I found in a trunk in the ruins of the castle of the assassins.

Tiryn paused, and Aedion nodded for him to continue, his tan face blank.

She stayed in the salt mines for two years, barely alive, suffering intolerable cruelties. About half a year ago, the
King of Adarlan hatched a plan to break Wendlyn: he would need a skilled assassin to kill the king of Wendlyn as he
killed Trasiens rulersand then steal its naval defense plans and bring them home. But, because of immigration laws,
only women are allowed to cross the ocean. Tiryn continued, explaining everything that had happened to date to the
warrior.

The King of Adarlan and his son know nothing of this. As of right now, there are only three people on this continent
that know of Celaena Sardothiens true identity: you, Arobynn Hamel, and I. You must not speak a word of this to
anyone else, not even your kinsmen in the mountains, for all will be revealed in due time.

Aedions eyes were bright. So my cousin is alive? And well?

As well as one can be in her sort of situation.

I must go to Wendlyn to retrieve her.

You will not go to Wendlyn, Aedion Ashryver.

But shes

Shes completely capable of taking care of herself. My suspicions are this: she did not or will not go undetected by
Queen Maeve of the Fae for long. Maeve, who is your kinswoman, knows Evaeliens blood as well as her own, and will
soon realize that Trasiens queen has reappeared after a very long absence. If my guesses are correct, Celaena
SardothienAelin Galathyniusmay be in training more intense than any you have known.

Aedion, for all of his glory and strength, suddenly was a young boy again: heartsick and terrified for his life and the
life of his family and friends. He had long since given up believing what his kinsmen still believed: that the body of
Aelin Galathynius had washed up somewhere and she had been hidden away from the kings view, biding her time
until she could reclaim her throne. He had taken up a shield against his own countrymen in bitterness at this
shattered dream, but now that he knew his dream had never been broken to begin with, the thought of war on his
cousins country disgusted him. He simply wanted to return to Trasiens capitalto live in the palace with Aelin and his
kinsmen and be as content as they were before Adarlan destroyed them all.

Aedions throat was tight and his eyes were moist. He had spent years being as solid as a rock, but now everything
seemed to be crumbling around him.

He turned his eyesthe dazzling blue Ashryver eyes of his cousin and auntto the minister once more. His heart felt
heavy and light at once.

What is she like? he asked, his voice breaking.

Everything we expected her to be, butwell, Adarlan has left its mark on us all, hasnt it? the old man asked gently,
and stood to leave, closing the door behind him.

Aedion stared at the floor in disbelief, his weapons and armor and bounties of war scattered around him like debris.
His queen lived! She was alive! True, she was a lethal assassin, but at least she was breathing! His veined and scarred
hands shook.

Alive!

In an instant, he thought of all the years he had spent growing up and training in the mountains, and during all of
those years she had been corrupted and violated, living in misery and hatred. While he had not been too fond of his
life, he hated how she had spent hers. Why had she not fought? Why had she not come forward? True, she had been
manipulated, but she was an Ashryver! She was a child of kings!
Anger filled his veins, and he looked at his shining sword. While Tiryn, once advisor to Trasiens king and royal family,
had said she was everything they had hoped she would be, he knew that she could never truly be what he had hoped
for in his deepest dreams: the shining maiden who had once shoved him in a fountain when his arrogance got the
better of him, the girl who had laughed at his pride and cried when he refused to let her join him and the other boys
in their games. Even if she made it through whatever trials lay ahead, even if she one day sat upon the throne of
Trasien, she would never return to the Aelin that he had known and loved.

She was alive, he realized with growing despair, but she was probably just as good dead. He looked at his armor. He
had long dreamed of a ruler under whom he could serve, but this? Could he serve beneath the banner of Celaena
Sardothien?

Aedion put his shining head in his hands and covered his face as he wept bitter tears.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien splashed water on her bare arms, washing away dirt and blood. After quickly accepting the
sobbing gratitude of Caras mother, the assassin had brought her horse to the Fortress stables and gone in search of
clean water. On the south side of the Fortress massed Adarlans army, more and more soldiers pouring in with each
passing moment. She didnt know why they were stationing themselves there, or even what their interest in the town
was, but she knew enough to know that most of the people within the building would be dead by first light.

That is, if their shield fails. It could very well hold out long enough for Wendlyns army to arrive and flatten these
men.

But Celaena remembered how quickly Faandurs shield had died around the small stable, and felt a knot of worry
tighten in her stomach. They could always surrender.

And be massacred.

Celaena cupped her hands, filling them with water, and scrubbed at her blood-caked face. Then again, she could
always just tell them who she was and hope that they took her into the ranks of their army

She splashed water on her face again. That was probably the best solution. As soon as their shield failed, shed get a
white flag and ask to speak with Adarlans general. Whoever he was, he was sure to have heard of her mission. It was
all just a matter of time.

So you made it, said a voice from behind her.

Celaena wiped her face dry and turned to see Colwir standing beside her. Barely, she replied.

But still intact, I see. You have my gratitude. He stuck out his hand.

Keep your gratitude and get me a drink, she snapped, and he laughed, his green eyes shining.

There are stores of wine and brandy in the cellars of the Fortress. Help yourself, though I believe that there have
been many before you who have had such a desire.

She frowned, and examined a long cut down her forearm. It was not deep, but large enough to cause her some
irritation. Are there many wounded? she asked the soldier.

He shook his head. No, but about two hundred died.

Chills ran down her arms. Two hundred people butchered like animals. Whats the population of this town?

Colwir rubbed his beard, thinking. The last time anyone bothered to check, it was around two and a half thousand.
With recent births and deaths, you can give or take a hundred.

He motioned for her to follow him, and she did so, rolling down her sleeves as she trailed after him. They walked past
huddled groups of peasants and merchants, each watching the soldier and woman with wide eyes. Celaena was
suddenly aware of how bloodied her clothes were, and especially how hardly any of that blood belonged to her. Her
hair wasnt in much better shape. She probably looked like a walking corpse.

Where are we going? she asked Colwir, walking quickly to keep up with him.

To the Town Elders. Theyre deep in discussion about whether or not we should fight.

Thats a pretty ridiculous thing to be discussing, she said, shaking her head. You should be readying your people for
battle, not contemplating whether or not its necessary.

Thats what I said, but there are some who have absolute faith that the shield will hold out until our army arrives. I
do not think they understand how far away the Gulf of Baello is, let alone how long it will take for word to get out
about this. It could be two days before anyone comes, and by then the shield will have long failed.

Then why do they hesitate?

Colwir stopped before a large wooden door. We are a town of merchants and farmerswe know nothing of war. I
have never killed a man until today. It is not an easy decision to give up the lives of your friends and family in order
that the gate should not fall.

The gate?

The Gate of Omil. It lies in the eastern end of the Fortress: it is the only way into the town aside from the Southern
Gate, and it opens to the only direct road to the Capital.

Celaena was beginning to see Adarlans plan with chilling clarity. But why go through the city at all?

Colwir shrugged. The Southern Gate and side of the city are cut off by sharp cliffs and hills that are near impossible
to pass throughespecially with an army. To go around them would take days.

Then why did they not sneak into the northern side of the city?

Do you think I know? Im not an army soldier. But I believe that the forest beneath the hills and beyond the
Southern Gate offered the best cover for them. Our northern side opens into a great plain: not your ideal place to hide
an army. I suspect that they somehow snuck into our country and massed deep within the forest, and now their only
way to get directly to the Capital is to march through our town, take the Fortress, and take the road from the Gate of
Omil. With our army in Baello, they can easily take the Capital city.

Celaena shivered despite herself. He was correct: it had to be their plan. Have you told your Elders this?

Yes, but they dont seem to understand it.

He reached out a hand to open the door and then hesitated. I must warn you, as you are clearly not accustomed to
our traditions. Be as respectful as you possibly can with them: do not speak out of turn, do not raise your voice, and
do not insult them. They are old, old men who have been in charge of this towns wellbeing for longer than I have
been alive.

Do they know Im from Adarlan?

Yes, and do not expect much warmth from them. While I have seen you in battle, they have not: you are still slightly
untrustworthy. But Ive brought you here so that perhaps you can gain their trust and clarify the situation for them.
Colwir waited until she nodded in agreement, and opened the door.

Seated at a round table were five aged men, four women who looked just as old, and three soldiers who appeared to
be closer in age to Celaena and Colwir than their ancient companions. They turned to Colwir and Celaena as they
entered, and the oldest man stood up.

So this is the woman who shone in battle? The old mans dark eyes flashed. Where is her armor? Where are her
sword and shield? Colwir, you have brought me a girl, not a warrior. Celaenas temper flared at the old mans words.
Appearances can be deceiving, old man, she said boldly, and Colwir laid a hand on her shoulder in warning.

Elder Phillio, I present to you Aelin of Adarlan. Despite her youth, you must see her potential.

The old mans nose wrinkled up in distaste. All I see is a blood-covered girl with an insolent nature. You waste our
time.

Celaena stiffened, indignant, but kept her mouth shut.

Please, Elders, listen to what she has to say.

Phillio laughed and sat down. So long as our shield holds, I would sooner listen to a pig than a girl from Adarlan.

The assassin ground her teeth in agitation. If this was the kind of thanks she would get from this town, they could all
burn alive.

Colwir squeezed her shoulder. Forgive me, Elder Phillio, but your prejudice towards Adarlan is blinding your logic. I
have seen this young womanmany of the townsfolk saw her save young Cara not twenty minutes agoagainst
Adarlans soldiers. As your nephew, you should have more faith in my word.

We are in battle, Colwir. Take her from here, you waste precious time.

But will you not hear what she has to say? She can help us, uncle! Colwirs green eyes pleaded with the old man,
but he refused to give in.

Take her from here, Colwir. You have been foolish enough already. Go, girl. Leave us.

The captain looked to the others in the room for help, but they did not return his gaze. Celaena was nearly beside
herself with anger. How dare this old man speak of her as if she were an enemy!

It was a silly thought, because she knew it was true, but the fact that he was so prejudiced towards her before she
had even proven herself worthy of his contempt was more than she could swallow. With a hateful glare at Phillio, she
turned on her heel and walked from the room without a word to Colwir, slamming the doors behind her.

She walked down a flight of stairs, not knowing where she was going, and turned down a long hallway that led to a
large balcony. It faced the sea, and Celaena dropped down on the ground alongside the wall of the building, watching
the red orb of the sun descend towards the sea. Here, the blue shield stopped. It was not an orb around the building,
as she had thought, but rather a massive wall that stretched up to this floor, about a hundred feet into the air.

To her left, she could hear the sounds of Adarlans army; and to her right, there were the groans and sobs of the
terrified villagers. If these commoners were too proud to accept her help, why should she fight for them? Why should
she risk her life to save their town when they would not even listen to her speak? Who were they to deny her help?

Celaena scraped her boots along the floor of the balcony, listening to the crunch of rock and sand. A breeze came in
from the ocean, and Celaena closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cold stone as the scent of the sea
filled her nostrils and ruffled her hair. She remembered, for a brief moment, the lovely summers of her childhood that
she had spent at the seaside with her family. She could remember splashing in the warm waves of the shallows, being
chased down the beach by her father when she stole his favorite dagger, sitting in her mothers lap as they watched
the sunset over the placid evening sea

She opened her eyes and stood up, walking over to the edge of the balcony. She looked down at the many levels and
terraces of the Fortress, at the villagers that were clinging to each other, their faces taut with fright. The assassin
looked to her left and saw the dark swarm of Adarlans army stretching just beyond the blue shield, buzzing with the
din of war. Celaena let out a sigh, returning her gaze to the ocean. She could clearly see Adarlans warships sitting on
the edge of the reef, waiting to fire once more upon the town. The far wall of the city was in ruins: doubtless, they
meant to pull right up to the shore and have their soldiers simply run through the broken wall and into the city. But
theyd have to find a way past the reef first

A thought entered Celaenas mind that made her grip the wall. She was supposed to retrieve the naval defense plans
and maps of the barrier reef. Did this mean that she was no longer employed? If the ships of Adarlan were waiting for
the directions to get to shore, who was to give it to them? Certainly not her, since she had known nothing about this
battle, but

Her mouth opened in shock at the betrayal. The King of Adarlan had set her up to fail!

A hundred feet below, a young girl began screaming. Celaena looked down to see what the fuss was about. The girl
had dark hair, and couldnt have been older than twenty. She kept on charging for the wall, screaming something that
Celaena wouldnt make out, and two older women were holding her back as she screamed and sobbed. From the few
words she made out, Celaena understood why the girl was in such hysterics. Someonea brother, father, or lover
had been killed and left to rot in the streets with countless others.

Celaenas brows contracted with pity, and she looked once more at the setting sun.

Aside from the foolish pride of Phillio, these villagers had done nothing to deserve this. Celaena looked at the blue
shield, which seemed to be slowly descending, and removed her bloodied tunic. The blood of Adarlans soldiers had
soaked through to her white undershirt, but it certainly looked more presentable than the blood-splattered and dirtied
shirt she had worn.

The turquoise sea sparkled with the hues of the sunset, brighter and more beautiful than any jewel she had ever seen.
Land. Thats what this war was over. A kings greed for more land and profit.

Once Trasien had looked like this: glowing and fresh, proud in its traditions and people, measuring its years in terms
of joy and sorrow, not in wealth and conquest. If Adarlans soldiers were to take the Capital, how soon would it be
before they reached the fields of the chateau? How soon after that would they fall upon the forest city of the Fae?

This was the land of her mother, the land in which her parents had met and fallen in love. Celaena remembered the
stump that Maeve had shown her and felt a fire spring into her heart that she had experienced only a few times
before. The Ashryver family was her kinGalan Ashryver was her second cousin. Where was he in his countrys hour
of need? Would he too drop from the gallows and swing in the wind beside his father?

The sun touched the edge of the sea like a blazing sword fresh from the forge.

Those at the chateau would die as well. They would all die if this town were taken. The shield had now dropped a good
foot beneath the edge of the balcony.

Celaena leaned on the balcony and looked down at the young woman, who was now crumpled in a heap, sobbing as
she beat her fist on the dirt beneath her. She knew that there would be many more like her before the night was
over, and thousands more than that if the worst should happen. She remembered the words of the priestess who had
spoken on Beltaen: There is always some good in the world worth fighting forworth dying for

Save or damn us all

Could one woman really make a difference in a battle? She could slay many men, but

The black mass of soldiers seemed to cover the eastern side of town like a blanket.

How could I possibly make a dent in that

Celaena felt a weight press against her chest, and she stood up. Fishing it from beneath her undershirt, she pulled out
the emblem that Colwir had given her. She had once possessed a pendant like this: a gift from her uncle before he
died. It was lost the night she had fled from the assassin who had murdered her family. The fire in her heart began to
burn with the brilliance of the setting sun. Tracing her fingers over the cool metal of the emblem, she recalled the
smooth gold stags that had once been the centerpiece of her necklace, and the flaming crown that had sat between
them. Her country now lay in ruins, but she would be damned if she let that happen to this one.

Celaena turned from the balcony, her heart set. She flew down staircases and hallways, asking once for directions to
the armory. The man didnt know if there was actually an armory in the Fortress, but suggested that there might be
something like it in a chamber beneath the building.

Adarlan had betrayed hershe owed them nothing now save her return in a month or so. But she owed the people of
this country much more than any corrupt bargain she could make with a tyrant.
She grabbed a torch from its bracket and flung open the ancient iron doors of the armory, brushing aside cobwebs
and dust particles that clogged the air. In the light of the torch, Celaena saw, with immense satisfaction and relief,
that the armory was stocked to the brim with not only full armor, but good armor. She ran her hands over one of the
breastplates. It was not the cheap metal that Adarlans soldiers were wearing. This was armor from another time,
from a war that was only remembered in books hidden deep within libraries. Celaena lit the several torches in the
chamber, and caught her breath. Swords and shields and helmets also filled the room. Adarlan had been sorely
mistaken in believing that this was only a peasant town! True, armor was often what you made of it, but this

Celaena picked up a helmet and admired the beautiful craftsmanship. She squeezed it between her arms and found its
strength to be impeccable.

You fool! Now is not the time for admiration and awe!

But then her eyes fell upon a suit of armor that lay in the back of the room. It was the only fully assembled set, and,
from the few dents and scratches left in it, it had seen its share of battle. Celaena wiped the dust from it and lifted the
breastplate. There were beautiful designsswirls and vines and dragonsengraved and built upon its golden surface.
It must have belonged to the leader of this town long ago. She considered turning from it, waiting to give it to Colwir
or Phillio, but stopped as her eyes fell upon the sword. That was a kings sword.

Celaena set the breastplate back down upon the dummy and drew the sword from its sheath, afraid for a moment
that it would be rusted and broken. Its blade glowed in the torchlight, smooth and sleek as if it had been polished
recently. It was one of the most beautiful weapons she had ever seen. Neither Colwir nor Phillio would be able to use
that weapon to its utmost potential. Its hilt was plated with gold and silver, and the pommel held a red jewel that
sparkled with the strength and depth of a thousand fires. There were words and symbols that Celaena could not read
engraved along the forte of the blade, but she suspected that they were from a civilization that now laid in forgotten
books and tombs.

She sliced the blade through the air, feeling the power and speed in every movement. No mortal had forged this
weapon! Celaena looked once more at the slender suit of armor before her and realized that it had been made for a
Fae warrior. Celaena sheathed the sword and removed the breastplate once more. It closed on the right sidesmart
thinkingsealing so tightly that no arrow could pierce it. The assassin frowned. Was it too slender for her?

She looked down at her breasts, her nose wrinkling with distaste. What useless things.

Celaena, feeling time press upon her, removed her cape and unclasped the shining breastplate. Hoping that she
hadnt gotten too healthy, she placed it over her body and closed it with ease. It fit perfectly. Celaena breathed a
sigh of relief. Was anything supposed to go under this? Perhaps something more than an undershirt? Celaena looked
at the dummy for help. There were exquisite leather and gold gauntlets and greaves on the arms and legs that
Celaena swiftly unlaced. The gauntlets she quickly tied onto her bare arms, but the greaves

Celaena looked down at her pants and boots. The bottom of the breastplate provided a kind of skirt with pleats of
leather that fell to mid-thigh and made her pants seem a bit silly and useless. But she couldnt run around battle in
her undergarments! Celaena frantically searched around the room for some sort of aid, but found nothing that could
go beneath the skirt. An idea struck her that made her laugh aloud at her own brilliance.

Removing her boots, Celaena grabbed the sword once more and dashed into a dark corner where she took off her
pants. With two swift slices, she cut the pant legs off to a length just above where the leather skirt of the breastplate
fell. She put them back on again, admiring her own handiwork, and dashed back to the suit of armor where she laced
up the greaves around her legs. There were sandals on the ground, but from the size of them, they were too big for
her tiny feet. Celaena rummaged through the endless bins of the room until she found a pair small enough for her,
and laced them on. She took the sword belt from the dummy and wrapped it around her waist, strapping the heavy
bronze shield across her back. It clanked against her armor, but despite the weight of the shield, her armor was light
and did not prohibit her movement.

Finally, she took the helmet and put it over her head, just to make sure it fit. The ornate nosepiece felt awkward
against the curve of her small nose, and it took her a few swings of her head to get used to the weight of it. She
removed the golden helmetperhaps she wouldnt use it. It seemed to be more hindering than protective.
Nonetheless, she cradled it in the nook of her right arm and made to leave the room.

Despite being pressed for time, Celaena stopped to admire herself in a shield mounted on the wall. Her mouth
dropped open at the sight of herself. She didnt know whether to laugh or gloat. She looked like a figure out of a
history bookimpressive, yet ridiculous at the same time. She drew the sword and raised it in the air above her. Still,
there was something wrong

She looked at the cape of Galan Ashryver, which lay on the ground by her boots. Picking it up and dusting it off, she
placed it around her shoulders and clasped it around her neck. She went back to the shield and smiled. It looked
much better now.

There was a cry from above, and Celaena remembered why she had come down here in the first place. Leaving the
torches burning, she sheathed the great sword once more. To those that saw her, she was a flash of hope, leaving
behind her a trail of whispers and wide eyes. To those that had seen her descend into the darkness only moments
before as a bloodied maiden, she had reemerged as a queen of legend. She ran up and staircases and ran down
hallways, getting a feel for the armors agility and weight. Thankfully, it was not that heavybut the shield was
awfully cumbersome, and the helmet felt awkward in her arms.

She knew that Phillio would mock her, but she kept the image of the sobbing young woman fresh in her mind.
Sometimes the oldest were not the wisestespecially peasants. Especially that prejudiced, ridiculous old man.

Her anger mounting with each step, Celaena threw open the doors to the Elders council room and stormed in, the
thirteen people in the room staring at her with dropped jaws.

Hear me and hear me well, Phillio of Peregrinno, she snarled at the man, and slammed her helmet down upon the
table with a thud that knocked over their goblets. Your shield is fading and Adarlan will sack this fortress by midnight
if you do not ready yourselves. The fate of your country rests on your withered shoulders, so I suggest you hear what
I have to say and take heed to my commands.

Phillio stood, indignant, and pointed at the door behind her. Leave this chamber at once. You have no right to be
here.

She laughed with spite. Your pride will be your downfall. With your permission or not, I mean to lead your town into
battle; its just a matter of whether you will make my job easier or not.

Who are you to take control of my town? Who are you to defy my orders?

Who are you to risk the fate of your country? she spat back. Were you outside of this room when Adarlan attacked?
Did you see your own people butchered beneath Adarlans swords? Did you take up a shield to defend them? Because
I did. Colwir did. Weve both faced Adarlans soldiers and lived. What have you done to have a say in this council?

Phillios white hair seemed to blaze around him. I have been in charge of this town for forty-six years. I am not about
to step down to the rule of a foreigner, least of all a girl.

Celaena snorted with contempt. Girl? Youre going to need my helpand the help of your femalesbefore the night
is over. You have an armory beneath this fortress that is equipped with all you could need to arm this town.

I know very well that we have an armory, and you had no right to go into there and take that armor, you impertin

Celaena snarled and drew the sword and slammed it down into the soft wood of the table, silencing him. Secretly, she
was thrilled that the blade cut through wood so easily, but the feral glare remained on her face.

You will hold your tongue or I will remove it for you! Your time is over, Phillio, wise Elder. She turned to the other
twelve in the room. My apologies for my behavior, but you must understand this: your shield fades and your people
are scattered about in terror. You must gather and arm them. Colwir, you should know which men and women are
more capable of holding their own in battle than others. Arm them appropriately. Put women, children, and the old
along the battlements and arm them with bows and arrows. Then take your remaining men and gather them towards
the Southern Gate of the Fortress and the Gate of Omil. I shall meet you there by nightfall.

The captain nodded. Despite what my uncle may have said, he said gently, I believe your armor suits you well. I
shall see you soon.

He bowed to the council members and left the room. Celaena pointed at the three soldiers and then pointed at the
door. Go with him, help to arm your people. Your armory is well-kept and stocked. They rose, bowed, and left.
Celaena turned to the four aged women and smiled. While Im sure youre horrified to see one of our gender in such
attire, I can assure you that before the night is over, the strength of our sex may be the thing that keeps this Fortress
from falling. I do not know your women and children, nor do I pretend to be of their same gentle nature, and so I ask
you to go to them now. Send those that are eager to fight to the men, but take everyone else to the armory and give
them the equipment they need to take down the front lines of Adarlan. Line up on the southern wall of the
battlements, and wait for either my or someone elses command to get into formation. Do not hesitate, do not dally
do not worry about feeding or nursing or grieving.

The old women turned to the five remaining men, and Phillio, surprisingly, nodded his approval. With a slowness of
pace that made Celaena bite her lip in frustration and anxiety, they left the room.

And what would you have us do, Aelin of Adarlan? Ready the bandages and healing ointments? Phillio sneered. The
assassin removed her sword from the table with a yank and sheathed it.

Mock and sneer at me as much as you like, Phillio, your words will do nothing to change the events that are about to
take place.

Events that you have caused to happen!

Me? she laughed. You believe that I am the cause of this? Do you think I led Adarlan here? If your people do not
wish to fight, they will not fight. You decrepit old fool! Do not blame me for the situation at hand. Had I not mustered
your forces, someone else would have. Understand this: the armies of Adarlan are not kind. They have burned your
town and will burn your country, just as they destroyed mine. Before I was Aelin of Adarlan, I was Aelin of Trasien.
Whether or not that means a damn thing to you, I dont care. But hear me now, all of you: if you allow Adarlan to
conquer this town and take the Gate of Omil, you will all die, whether by sword point or in brutal slavery.

Phillio only glared at her.

Do you not believe me? Do you not believe what Adarlan can do? Do you even understand what a slave camp is?
Celaena removed her cape and unbuckled her breastplate, throwing it down on the table.

It is this, she hissed, and turned her back to them, raising her undershirt to reveal the five or six white lines that
remained as a testament to the two years she had spent in slavery. She lowered her shirt and put her armor back on.

Yes, I was a slave myself before I came here. I toiled in the salt mines of Endovier, and watched as people such as
yourselves, young and old, were broken beneath the crack of the whip. That is the fate that awaits your country if you
refuse to help me.

Phillios stare of hate had faded to shock. Our king would never allow for that to happen to us.

Do you think the will and reserve of the kings of Eyputiussunn and Trasien and Finntierland were any less than that
of your king? They were broken or killed along with the rest of their country, their crowns taken to the Glass Palace of
Renaril and set in the kings treasure room. Do you know that he has a room in which there are only the crowns of the
conquered countries? Yes, each is mounted on a podium, and there has always been one empty podium, one empty
velvet pillow waiting for Wendlyns crown.

Perhaps, an old man said, she is right. Phillio, we have served without question in your council, but I think it is time
we overrode your will and pride and did as the young lady asks. He paused, and Phillio said nothing. What would
you have us do, milady? the old man said.

Celaena stared at the man, her brows narrowed. I would have you get me maps of this Fortress, this city, this
country, and your reef and return as soon as possible. We have much planning to do in a very short amount of time.

The old man stood, and the other three rose with him, leaving Phillio sulking in his chair, nodding to their Chief Elder
before they left. The old man who had addressed Celaena, and perhaps just saved his town, put a hand on her
shoulder as he passed her.

I knew Evaelien when she was a maiden, he said quietly, and Celaenas heart began to pound. I believe that you
would have made her very proud.

Celaena opened her mouth to speak, but he had already passed through the great oak doors of the chamber.
Celaena took a seat across from Phillio and sighed. You can make this very easy or very difficult for me, old man. He
remained sullen and silent. If you have such a mistrust of foreigners, Im sure some of your people will as well. But
with your approval and support, I can lead them long enough so that we might have a chance of holding out until
dawn. I do not pretend to know anything of battle tactics, I only know what common sense and a lifetime of hardship
have taught me. I know the laws of physics, and know that we have the advantage of high walls and stone. Alas, I am
no leader, she said, her eyes moist, I barely manage to stay alive on my own. This is why I ask your help. Despite
your insufferable prejudice towards me, you have much more wisdom in leading men than I do. I beseech you:
please, help me. Do not let the fate of your country be the same as my own. Do not let your people be slaughtered
and broken like animals. Hate me all you like, but do not toss aside the well-being of your country out of foolish
pride.

The words were coming out of her mouth from a place in her mind that she did not know existed. She felt like a child
playing with something too big for it to handle. Her eyes were filled with doubt and fear. She was dressed like a
warrior and a leader, yet she knew she could not hold the position without support.

Phillio, his white hair like clouds around his ears, shook his head. You are wrong, he said, and a stone of anger and
despair dropped into her stomach, you lead much better than you believe. Celaena stared at the man in disbelief.
You commanded my council with more authority and skill than I ever have. There is no quality that you do not
possess that I have save for the folly and pride of old age.

The old man stood, and bowed. I heard what Lambar said to you as he departed. Had you said you were kin of the
Ashryver family, things would have gone differently. You have my deepest apologies for my insolence, Aelin of
Trasien, and I am under your command.

Celaena blinked, and then frowned. I do not want you to serve under me, she said. I wish for you to help me
share this burden with me.

He motioned to her helmet and armor. While I am foolish and simple in many ways, I am wise enough to know when
it is the time for certain things. My people, while they do love me, will not march under the sword of an old man. I will
help you in every way I can, Lady Aelin, but know that perhaps it is your time to lead. Fate and skill kept you alive
todayand I believe your fate will stretch beyond this coming night. But for now you should accept this as your
destiny and pick up that sword to lead us to victory, or until the arrival of our army, whichever is first.

I cannot lead your people alone, she said.

No leader is ever alone. The strength of a leader often lies not in himself, but in those he puts around him. You have
myself, Colwir, and perhaps a few more will reveal themselves throughout the night. We will support you and advise
you, but know that tonight it is under your command that my people will be led.

She nodded, and the four old men reappeared in the room, their arms laden with maps. When the map of the barrier
reefs was laid before her, her heart jumped. This was one half of her mission. This was her ultimate goal. If this
Fortress fell and this map were seized, it would mean the end of Wendlyn. She picked up the map, running her fingers
over it.

Half of her wanted to burn it, to tell them what would befall their country should this map remain intact

But the other half won out, and Celaena remained silent, placing the map on a chair beneath the table, where she was
certain the old men would forget about it. It was the most shameful thing she had ever done, and a part of her
wanted to scream with frustration and despair, but she couldnt throw away an opportunity like this. She might not
even find a copy of this map in the palace, especially at a ball. This could very well be her only chance.

Lambar stretched out a map of Peregrinno beside a map of the Fortress, and the five old men waited for her to begin
speaking once more.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 16 PART II

Celaena stood before the Gate of Omil and looked at the taught and nervous faces of the men assembled before her,
doubt spreading across her chest. Despite the Fae armor that shone and glittered around them, these were not
soldiers. For a moment, Adarlans army might be surprised, but as soon as they saw that these were just peasants
and merchants, their shock would wane and the slaughter would begin once more.
She felt an urge to tell them all to run back inside the great building, to hide and let her do the fighting with the few
soldiers that Peregrinno possessed, knowing that she wouldnt feel as bad about her own death as she would about
the deaths of two thousand common folk. If she survived the night, how many hours would she spend fretting over
the lives lost here?

The men of the town watched her warily, and Celaena felt her stomach clench in fear. Did they know that they would
all probably die? Did they say goodbye to their children and friends before leaving the safety of the building? Sorrow
caught in her neck and she turned from them, finding Colwir standing beside her.

We have over one thousand men here, the captain said, and the six hundred women who are willing to fight have
been assembled on the battlements above us and behind. Colwir pointed to the first wall of the building. Sure
enough, there was an enormous amount of women lined up along the lowermost balcony of the building. Celaena
turned around and looked at the massive wall of the battlements before them, admiring the smooth two lines of
archers that stood there.

The archers on the battlements would fire first, breaking the oncoming lines of Adarlans soldiers once the shield
dropped. As soon as the soldiers got close enough to mount the walls, half of their numbers would fall back to join the
women standing on the balconies of the Fortress, where they would fire high into the air beyond the battlements,
taking down whatever soldiers were unfortunate enough to be found beneath. Once the iron doors of the Southern
Gate of the Fortress were breached (which Celaena knew would be smashed apart with some sort of foul battering
ram), the archers would fire upon the soldiers rushing in, hopefully taking them down before they had time to plow
across the massive courtyard to the Gate of Omil.

The makeshift soldiers would stand before the Southern Gate and the Gate of Omil, waiting for the moment when the
great doors were smashed down. To identify themselves as citizens of Peregrinno, Celaena had had each soldier paint
an X out of tar on his helmet and back plate. The women were not trained archers, and even with the golden
helmets of the armory, it would be hard to tell good from bad once blood started spilling and chaos ensued. She would
be leading the first round of archers on the battlements, relying on Colwir and Phillio to keep up the morale of the
soldiers waiting in the courtyard beneath. Once Adarlan got too close to the battlements, she would join the men at
the gates.

The sun had set, and the sky was a sickly shade of blue and purple. Hopefully the moon would quickly rise and
provide a better source of light than torches. The shield would soon be reaching the first line of archers on the walls of
the Fortress. The lower the shield got, the louder the din of war became. Celaena hadnt had a clear view of the
soldiers, and their number was still unclear, but she knew that they outnumbered them at least three to one. While
they had the advantage of the Fortress, higher ground, and better armor, Adarlans army had the advantage of its
best soldiers and fifteen years of conquering under its belt.

It was becoming common knowledge that Peregrinno had little chance of surviving the night. Their best chances lay in
the untested skill of their archers and the bottleneck that the two gates provided. Once the Southern Gate fell, all of
Peregrinnos forces would block the Gate of Omil. Whether or not that would do any good, Celaena did not know, but
it was the only opportunity they had.

Surprise was also on their side. As soon as the shield dropped to the level of the battlements, Celaena would give the
signal and it would vanish. Adarlans forces would not be expecting that moveand that was when Celaena and the
archers would strike. Theyd fire as fast and as accurately as they could upon the unsuspecting army, taking the front
lines down before they could even charge.

While Celaena had been planning the battle with the Elders, Colwir had apparently given the women some instruction
on how to shoot. But the assassin knew better than to rely upon the skill of peasants alone. She was counting on the
hope that the line of dead bodies would prove cumbersome, requiring Adarlans soldiers to step over or move them
aside in order to get at the Fortress and thus giving Peregrinnos women enough time to reload their bows and fire
upon the new line of soldiers that stood before them.

Celaena looked up at the clear blue shield, watching it slowly sink downwards. It would be fifteen more minutes until
it would be at the level they wanted.

It is time, Colwir said to her, and Celaena lowered her head and nodded. He was clad in fine armor, and his helmet
was clutched in the crook of his arm. Had he ever expected to see battle? Had he ever thought that he would see his
friends and family taken down by the swords and arrows of Adarlan? Celaena felt a great weight pressing on her
heart. His death would leave her with the heaviest guilt hanging upon her heart.
She fished out the medallion that Colwir had given her from beneath her breastplate. I forgot to return this to you,
she said. It is very lucky indeedI hope that it brings to you the same fortune it brought to me and your ancestors.
She made to put it around his neck, but he caught one of her arms with his free hand.

Give it to me at dawn, he said with a smile, and Celaenas eyes softened with pity and sorrow. Give it to me once
my town is secure.

Celaena lowered her hands and put the necklace back on, tucking it beneath her armor once more. She could feel the
cool metal resting between her breasts. If I do not see you again, Captain Colwir, Celaena said, her eyes growing
bright with pride, I want you to know th

A wicked horn blasted through the night, and Celaena saw, with horror, that the shield was lowering at a faster pace
than before. Adarlans army was assembling for its assault.

The captain and the assassin exchanged a worried glance, and Celaena picked up her helmet from where it had been
resting on the ground beneath her, and practically slammed it down upon her head. She tucked her golden hair
beneath it, and scooped up her shield, slinging it over her shoulder.

We shall meet again, she said fervently, grasping Colwirs shoulder before she dashed through the courtyard and up
the slender flight of stairs to the battlements.

The armor-clad women stood there, silenced with fear. Celaena picked up the longbow that had been waiting for her,
and exchanged her shield for a quiver of arrows. She dashed towards the center of the wall, constantly looking
upwards at the disappearing blue, and found a spot between two women close to her age.

She was about to ask for their names when her eyes fell upon the army that stretched beyond the wall.

It was not an army of two thousand, but one of what looked like six thousand. Chills ran down her arms, and Celaena
turned to the West to see the lights on the fleet of battleships that waited off the reef. Could their iron balls reach the
walls of the Fortress? Could they, while the citizens of Peregrinno were fighting along the Southern and Eastern Walls,
take down the West Wall? What foul plans did they have in store?

Another horn blew, this time a horn of Peregrinno, signaling to Celaena that the shield would soon be ready to drop.
Celaena knocked an arrow and pulled back the string, testing it once before she let it go loose again. She was a
decent archer by assassinating standards, and hopefully after practicing with Raonn, she had become somewhat
better.

Their armor, Celaena projected as loudly as she could to the women down the wall, is weakest at the base of the
neck and their sides. If you cannot aim well, target their legsespecially the knees. Do not hesitate to shoot them, for
they will show you no mercy once they breach these walls! The shield was now but a few feet from her head.

A worse fate than death awaits you if you do not bring them down! Celaena drew her bow again. She felt
uncomfortable instructing these women, especially at the top of her voice, but if she did not do it, who would? She
was no soldier, and no leader at that, but she was an assassinand whether that counted for anything, she did not
know.

For a moment, she paused, wondering whose side she was really on. Adarlan had betrayed her, yet if she did not
complete her mission and return home, Chaol would die. But she wouldnt even be able to return home if she died
here!

The faces of the women around her shone with determination, and Celaena pushed aside her inner battle. Now was
not the time for an epiphany. Whether this was revenge, or treason, or both, she did not care.

This was war.

READY! she bellowed, and the sound of hundreds of arrows being drawn into place filled the air, silencing the
clashing of Adarlans army for a brief moment. Behind her stood a little girl, waiting with a horn to signal for the shield
to drop upon Celaenas command. Barely forty feet beyond the battlements were Adarlans soldiers, marching into
place, their spears and shields and swords shimmering in the growing moonlight. She could make out their wicked
faces and their blood-covered armor, hardening and cracking from the slaughter earlier that day.
An anger and courage filled her veins and heart, sending strength and clarity to her limbs and mind. This is how it
should have been in Trasienthis is what they should have done. Had her own people been butchered like this? Had
they sat huddled in buildings and citadels, waiting for a leader to save them from these men, only to find the edge of
a sword or the shackles of slavery? Her eyes moistened, and her lips pulled back into a snarl of defiance.

FOR YOUR FRIENDS! Celaena bellowed again. FOR YOUR FAMILIES!

This was one small stepone step of resistance that so few had dared to take against Adarlans forces. The people of
Wendlyn would not fall like those across the ocean.

Adarlan would feel their courage before the night finished! Adarlan would feel the determination of the free peoples of
the earth! Adarlan would feel the wrath of the houses of Ashryver and Galathynius!

FOR YOUR COUNTRY! she screamed, and signaled. The horn behind her howled a cry of defiance, and with an
explosion of blue and yellow and white light, the shield vanished.

FIRE! she commanded, and released her first arrow towards a stunned soldier in the front lines before them. He
gave a cry of pain and fell forward, dead. A hail of arrows flew from the battlements and found targets.

In a quick survey of Adarlans lines, she saw that they had done more damage than she expected, the screams of the
hit soldiers echoing into the night. She ordered the women to reload, and before they had pulled back their bowstrings
to fire again, Celaena fired three more arrows, each finding a killing mark. She paused for a moment, waiting for the
second line of Adarlans soldiers to rush forward, this time with their shields raised over their necks and hearts.

As expected, they had some difficulty climbing over their fallen or injured comrades, and Celaena yelled for the
second round of arrows to fly, instructing the woman to aim for their legs. She watched with sick satisfaction as the
next four arrows she consecutively fired smashed through the knees of four soldiers, who dropped to the ground,
screaming and writhing in pain. They would not live to see the light of day.

The third line of soldiers now rushed forward, running blinding towards the battlements. FIRE AT WILL! Celaena
howled, and the arrows of the women of Peregrinno fell down upon Adarlans soldier in a shower of death. Colwir had
taught them well indeed!

But then the third line halted, dropping to the ground and putting their shields up in front of them like a barrier as a
fourth line of Adarlans soldiers appeared behind them, each bearing a bow and a quiver of arrows. She heard a
scream of command come from below, and before she could register what was happening, Adarlans archers had fired
the first round of arrows. They flew in the air to the battlements like a swarm of angry bees, and Celaena managed to
let out a cry of warning before she ducked behind the wall. Her eyes widened and her stomach rose in terror as an
arrow hit and then bounced off of her back, clanging as it impacted with her golden armor. The force surprised her,
and as soon as the downpour of arrows had stopped, Celaena turned over to see how the other women had fared.

To her horror and disgust, the child with the horn was dead, an arrow buried deep in her little chest. The girls brown
eyes were open wide, and her dark hair hung limply around her face. Blood was oozing from the girls wound,
befouling her simple tunic. Why hadnt she been wearing armor? All around her, Celaena could hear screaming and
cries of warmany women had gotten to their feet and were firing down upon the soldiers once more, avoiding (to
the best of their skill) the deadly arrows of Adarlan. But Celaena still lay upon the ground, staring at the delicate
fingers of the child, at her smooth face, at the petite feet that lay like feathers upon the cobblestones of the
battlements.

Was this the cost of war?

The arrow was black and spindly, and looked as if it had been hastily made from the branch of a dead tree. To her
right, she heard an emission of pain; and Celaena turned her head to see a young woman fall backwards, an arrow
sticking out of her red, gushing neck before she dropped over the edge of the battlement to the courtyard behind
them.

The blue cobblestones were splattered with blood and arrows. All around her women were dyingwhy would she not
make her legs move? Two arrows landed in the soft flesh of the child, causing her corpse to shift to the right. The girl
was dead, slaughtered before her first moonblood. Celaena felt as if she was about to vomit. This was the most
horrifying thing she had ever seen next to Anuksuns body.
So many had died in Adarlans wakeso many people she had known and not known

Get up.

Celaenas heart was beating in her chest. Arrows were flying again, the second (or was it third? She had lost track)
rally whizzing and thudding all around her. As soon as it had started, it was over, leaving only broken shafts and dark
arrowheads buried in bodies and in the gaps between stones.

GET UP.

She couldnt cower like this.

Get up, she whispered to herself, her eyes not leaving the corpse of the girl. Get up.

For remembrance, as a reminder. She felt sick in every possible way. Shame filled her, but Celaena could not move.
She was safe from arrows here. Safe for the moment. The girl had been shot down with a cheaply made arrow. A girl
who might have become something, a girl who might have been a baker or a whore, or a queen. She was a body now,
not even a person. She would become a skeleton and then become dust and no one would remember her. The girl
was dead.

For your country, Celaena said through shaking lips. For your country

For all her years as Adarlans assassin, she could not bring herself to move. There were cries up and down the wall,
and from the courtyard below, and there were at least six bodies lying around her. She had killed to survive, killed to
avenge, killed for profit

Was she any better than the soldiers trying to get in? Was she any better than this corpse in front of her? The dead
eyes of the girl stared at Celaena, unforgiving.

your country Celaena mumbled.

Get up, get up, get UP!

What were empires anyway? How long would Adarlan last? In two thousand years, would anyone remember this one
night of resistance? Would anyone remember the body of this little girl? Would anyone remember who she, Celaena
Sardothien, was?

Choice is the essence of our characters.

If she were to live through this battle by hiding in the shade of the wall, what would that say about her character? She
was no coward!

Still, her legs would not move.

But then a sound came that made her heart go cold with fear. It was the sound of iron on stone, the sound of
grappling hooks landing and catching along the wall. Celaena watched as, one by one, the three-clawed grapnels flew
over the wall and caught, their ropes going taut. Adarlans soldiers were going to scale the wall. A grapnel slammed
into the stone beside her head, and Celaena leapt forward, crashing into the corpse of the little girl as the iron claws
found a resting place.

The assassin looked down in horror at the body beneath her, and felt the arrows of Adarlan touch her breastplate and
skin. Thankfully, Adarlans arrows had ceased. Celaena stared at the face of the child, her heart beating wildly, and
then glanced at down the battlements before turning her face upwards to see the other half of the women lined on the
first wall of the Fortress beyond the courtyard. Had they been watching her?

Shame filled her again, and Celaena removed herself from the body of the child. They had placed the younger, older,
and more inexperienced women on the walls of the first level of the Fortress. There were children the age of the dead
child up there.

A scream of terror went down the wall as the first one of Adarlans soldiers breached the battlements.
Many more would die now.

Celaena felt the weight of the sword at her side and saw her shining shield not too far down the wall. She watched,
half in hope, half in fear, as a crowd of four archers assaulted him, striking and beating with the hunting knives they
had been given.

Behind her, she could hear the grunting and scraping of the soldiers about to climb over the wall. Out of fright and
anger, she grabbed her bow and leapt to her feet, drawing two arrows at once and not waiting to see the soldiers
face before she let them snap down into his exposed neck. With a muffled cry, he released the rope and fell
backwards. Celaena knocked two more arrows into her bow and leaned over the battlements to shoot the soldier on
the grapnel to her left. She fired again and again, her teeth barred in a look of desperate ferocity, as she brought
down the ascending soldiers to her left and right until her quiver was emptied.

Celaena grabbed a partially full quiver from the closest corpse, and fired a deadly arrow at a soldier far down the wall,
who was about to jump down onto the battlements and slay the women around him. The women, who had been
prepared to attack him, turned in surprise to the assassin, but Celaena had already pivoted in the other direction,
taking down the soldiers on the other end of the battlements. Every time she saw one of their silver helmets pop over
the edge of the wall, shed fire at his exposed neck, killing him instantly. Time passed with lightning quickness as she
emptied three more quivers of arrows.

She stared out across the army, and it seemed that they had made no dent. Far down to her left, she saw a felled
tree being carried through the ranks of the soldiers, headed towards the Southern Gate. She cried to the women down
on that end of the wall to bring the soldiers down before they reached the gate, but then there was a noise behind
her, and her cry was stifled.

A soldier had snuck up the rope directly beneath her, and now stood before her, his sword raised to kill. As his stroke
fell, Celaena ducked down to grab one of the four daggers she had tucked into the laces of her greaves, but a scream
of pain came from his lips and his blade went wide. She leapt away from his falling corpse, staring down at him in
curiosity. An arrow had pierced his left side and buried itself in his heart.

But where

Celaena looked at the first wall of the Fortress and saw an aged woman standing there, her bow drawn. The old
woman gave Celaena a toothy smile, and the assassin nodded her thanks as she sheathed her dagger. If any of these
women could fire upon these soldiers as well as this crone, there was no need for her on this part of the battlements.

She dropped her bow and empty quiver and rushed to her shield, scooping it onto her left arm before she drew the
mighty Fae sword. In the light of the moon and torches, it glowed like lightning.

An idea came to her that she was ashamed of for not thinking of it before; and, not pausing, Celaena ran down the
length of the battlement to the West Wall, slashing at the ropes of the grapnels. Cries from below were emitted as
soldiers fell to their deaths, taking down the others behind them. More cries ensued as Celaena turned back and ran
down towards the East Wall, where the remnants of the first lines of archers were still firing. The ropes snapped easily
beneath her sword, and Celaena leapt with the grace of a deer over the bodies of the fallen, making sure to steer
clear of the slippery puddles of blood that coated much of the ground. Behind her, she heard the scrape and thud of
iron, and the whoosh of arrows from the first wall of the Fortress.

The women that stood upon the battlements towards the East Wall were now firing, without much accuracy, upon the
soldiers that were trying to breach the Southern Gate. Celaena watched as most arrows hit the breastplates of the
soldiers and rebounded, useless. Had they lost all logic in the first volleys? She had forgotten for a moment that they
were, in the end, just peasants raised in a peaceful country.

SHOOT THEIR LEGS! Celaena yelled at the women down the wall. SHOOT THEIR DAMNED LEGS!

The assassin looked over the edge of the battlements and saw that the battering ram was about to reach the
Southern Gate. She ran to the edge of the battlement and called down to Colwir, who was standing in the front lines
before the gate with his townsmen.

COLWIR! she screamed over the noise of battle, and the captain turned to her. The battering ram is near! Ready
your men!
She felt a bit silly after saying it, for she knew that he knew very well that the battering ram was close, but she had
still felt an obligation to warn him in case the women on the wall had failed to alert him. It was difficult to not be on
the same level of intelligenceshe didnt know what these people understood, and if their actions had any logic
behind them. She felt obligated for the safety of all of them; and imagined, with some amount of foolishness, that this
was what it must be like to be a shepherdor a mother with many children. Or a bee with

Why do you always think of such ridiculous things in these kinds of moments?

Celaena looked over her shoulder at the distant lights of Adarlans fleet and prayed that they werent sending over
soldiers in rowboatsespecially armed with those awful balls of iron and smoke.

She hesitated for a moment, not knowing whether or not she should remain on the battlements or go down to the
men. The archers seemed to have things under whatever amount of control was possible in this kind of situation, and
so Celaena plunged down the nearest set of stairs and joined Colwir just as the first shuddering boom of the battering
ram slammed into the Southern Gate. The men of Wendlyn took a step back in fear, but Colwir ordered them back to
their places before Celaena could even open her mouth to do the same.

You did well on the battlements, said a voice beside her, and Celaena turned to find Phillio standing next to her, clad
in armor. The assassin frowned at the old man.

We broke the first few lines, but there are hundreds more out there.

She turned to Colwir, who was listening intently. There are at least six thousand soldiers, Colwir. We were prepared
to hold out against two or three thousandnot double or triple that!

She stared at the men around her, who were facing the Southern Gate, their swords drawn and shields shimmering.
We will not survive until dawn if they break through that gate, she hissed at the two men, her brows narrowed. We
might not even survive until midnight.

We will do the best we can, Phillio said with stern pride.

Thats a nice sentiment, she retorted, but it wont help us to win a battle of one against three, especially with
peasants.

Its a bit early for despair, isnt it? said Colwir, but Celaena shook her head.

Had you been on the battlements, you would not have said that. Remember that there is a fleet of ships waiting just
outside your reef, and who knows if they are using the cover of darkness to sneak more soldiers into your town.

So long as we have our forces by the Gate of Omil, Phillio replied, we have nothing more to worry about.

But our downfall may come from the Western Gate, Celaena said, glancing over her shoulder towards the West. Do
you think our odds would be much lessened if we spared forty soldiers and archers to line up on the battlements along
the West Wall?

Colwir considered this. A single man may mean victory or defeat, he said after a short pause. But a single door,
though small, may also determine life or death. I would send the forty to the Western Wall. Phillio?

The old man nodded. Celaena sheathed her sword and raced up the steps to the battlements, and commanded twenty
of the women to rush to the West Walland to bring torches. She shouted down to Colwir to select twenty men,
which he did with speed, and Celaena breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the guard station themselves around the
small Western Gate and on top of its battlements. Should anyone attack, word would quickly get to them, and they
could send reinforcements. It was best to have every possible angle covered. She silently thanked the Goddess that
the northern side of the city was blocked by the sharp hills of shale that seemed to intersect the Fortress, also
preventing access to the eastern side of the city from the South. The only way to the Gate of Omil was truly through
the South and West Gates of the Fortress. Unfortunately, those were also the only ways out.

There was another deafening boom, and Celaena was about to run back down the stairs when an idea hit her with a
brilliant flash. Chills ran down her arms. This could give them time. Time enough for Wendlyns armies to arrive and
flatten these monsters
Celaena rushed over to the archers that remained on the battlements. Halt your fire and come with me, she hissed,
her eyes bright with excitement and hope. Ive got an idea.

Galan Ashryver sat atop the Fae horse, watching the ships of Adarlan sail away at top speed. All around him, his men
were cheering with victory, but in his heart he still felt uneasy. Without signal or cause, Adarlans fleet had suddenly
ceased their attack and set sail out to sea once more, heading back from where they had come. It was only an hour
after sunset, and the fleet he had tried to assemble had only just arrived. Thankfully, no blood had been shed on the
water, and the sailorstrained and untrained alikewere all heading towards the nearest inn or tavern for a well-
earned tankard of ale.

At his side was Fanur, worn and angry from having to chase the prince across the country. Of all the absurd things
you have done, the old man began, shaking his head, but the page that rushed up to Galan, his face white with
terror, silenced him.

Theyre here, the boy breathed, Adarlan attacked at sundown. They attacked Peregrinno, not eighty miles from
here and on the coast. Theyre going to take the High Road to the capital and raze it to the ground!

The Crown Prince and his advisor stared at the boy, shock and dread filling their faces. Galan knew where Peregrinno
was. It was not twenty miles from the forest in which he had met Aelin

Someone lit the Tunnel Trumpetsyour father sends a force there right now from the capital, but aid is needed! the
pages knees trembled, and he put a hand on Fanurs horse for support. But your father asks you to return to the
capital immediately, Prince Galan, and let one of his generals lead your men to Peregrinno.

But Galan wasnt listening. The sound of a sword being drawn clanged in the air, and Galan rode forward to the still-
cheering lines of his army. He would not go back to the capital. He would not go sit in his castle while his people were
butchered by whatever foul men Adarlan had snuck into his country.

SONS OF WENDLYN! he bellowed, and raised his sword in the air. Our shores have been attacked once again!

Silence rippled out across the thousands of men before him as his voice echoed off of the rocks and stone of the
ruined city of Baello. The sound of an army turning to look at him caused his heart to pound, but his courage
remained burning and bright. They have attacked a small town called Peregrinno on our western shoresthey
attacked at sundown, seeking to take the High Road to the capital, which is easily accessible through that towns
fortress!

Whispers of fear and anger spread through the army. Galan silently thanked Fanur for making him study the history
and geography of his land. It would be at least a day before they could reach Peregrinno. Would they make it in time?

My father has sent a host to meet them, but more aid is needed! We must make haste and fly across the Grasslands
of Adaeryn! Now is our hour! Now our country needs us most! You neednt worry about provisions, carts will follow
bring your shields and your spears and your swords and nothing else! Mount your horses, my brothers, for we ride to
war! He spurred his horse, stabbing the sky with his sword for emphasis.

There was a deafening cheer, and Galan felt a sense of pride and strength that he had not known before. These were
his soldiersthey would follow him and die for him

The moon shone above him, and Galan Ashryver, Crown Prince of Wendlyn, waited for his army to get to its feet once
more.

Celaena Sardothien fired another arrow, and another one of the soldiers holding the battering ram fell down dead, the
arrow protruding from his neck. The ram lurched to the side, the other soldiers staggering with the sudden increase in
weight, but before it could fall, another man had replaced his dead comrade. They were still at the gate, but unable to
move or batter the door any further.

It had been like this for over an hour. Celaena and the most skilled archers in Peregrinno had been firing only upon
the soldiers holding the battering ram. At first, their job had been easy: shooting their legs, especially their knees, but
as soon as Adarlan had realized what they were doing, a flock of soldiers with chest-high shields had surrounded the
ram, and stood shield-to-shield, thus preventing even Celaenas arrows from breaking another kneecap. She didnt
know how long they would continue their futile attempt at getting through the Southern Gate, but so long as there
was a massive wall between her and them, and plenty of arrows, she was content to pick them off one by one.
She aimed at a soldier, the largest man in the group, observing how his armor came together at the neck and
shoulder. The only downside to having them in such shabby attire was that each mans armor was different, meaning
that she had to kill each man according to whatever style of armor he had managed to pull together. Thankfully, a lot
of them had the same suits: helmets that allowed little visual clarity, and armor that was bulky around the chest and
stomach, but weak at the neck.

She watched for another second as his helmet and breastplate awkwardly brushed against each other. She saw her
opening. Another sharp twang cut through the night air, followed by a short cry of pain and the groan of soldiers
struggling to hold the ram upright. Celaena smiled to herself as the large man fell to the side, blood splattering over
the dark wood of the ram.

The few archers beside her were doing wellor, well as one who wasnt Adarlans assassin could do. Their arrows
were more of a hindrance to the soldiers than the deadly accuracy of Celaenas, but, all the same, it kept the enemy
at bay.

She knew that at some point their arrows would run out, or that Adarlan would find some other way to breach the
battlements, but she sincerely hoped that this would last all night. Peregrinnos soldiers were still below, standing or
sitting in silence, watching the battlements above the gate where Celaena and the others were firing. Adarlan had
tried three times to mount the wall since Celaena had cut down their grappling lines, but every attempt had either
been cut down by the assassin herself or the archers standing forty feet away on the first level of the Fortress. The old
woman on the wall was so good at shooting down soldiers or ropes that Celaena had considered bringing her down to
the battlements to fire upon Adarlan. However, Colwir had told her it was best to keep the woman up there, leading
the archers and guarding the battlements while Celaena kept the battering ram from being moved.

Celaena constantly turned her head to the West Wall, and every time she called to the archers she had stationed
there, they reported that Adarlan still remained upon the southern side. The lights of the war fleet flickered on the
water, eerie reminders of the greater threat that loomed above their heads. She looked down at her scabbard, where
she had skillfully hidden the slender map of Wendlyns barrier reefs, and knocked another arrow into her bow. Even if
Adarlan broke into the Fortress, theyd never find what they were looking foritd either be lying with her dead body
or with her wherever she and her sword escaped to.

She fired the arrow, and let out a hiss as the bow string snapped against her fingers. She raised her hand to her
mouth and sucked on her stinging digits, a frown forming on her face as she saw two more long tree trunks making
their way through Adarlans lines. To her right, arrows were whizzing over the battlements and into the dark mass of
soldiers below. Celaena removed her fingers from her mouth to watch the soldiers fall. Aside from the screaming and
groaning of Adarlans soldiers, and the twang and whoosh of the archers, a pregnant silence had settled over the
world. It was as if the world had stopped for a moment to observe the battle at hand, waiting to see which side would
be victorious, waiting to see what other ridiculous situations mortals could create for themselves.

Wendlyns main army was too far away to reach them by sunrise. She had been told that some form of
communication had occurred, but she had been too caught up in bringing down the battering ram to pay much
attention to the details of the situation. So long as someone knew and was coming to help them, she could care less
how the hell they got the message.

There were only two arrows left in her quiver, and she looked down at the smooth wood and iron head as she placed
it in her bow. Four arrows flew from the bows of the women beside her, some landing in the tree trunk, some
rebounding off of the soldiers armor. There were two more battering rams coming, and there were not enough
archers to keep them all from smashing through the Southern Gate.

Theyd have to be destroyed.

She felt the lightning surge of genius sweep through her again, and she looked at the remaining stock of arrows that
lined the edge of the battlements behind her. It could work. Two more arrows landed in the ram and stuck there,
protruding like spikes.

She placed her bow against the side of the wall and rushed over to a corpse, ripping a length of fabric from the
womans skirt. It could definitely work. The assassin raveled the fabric around the shaft of the arrow, keeping it near
the head, but not so near that it would keep it from sinking into the wood. Why hadnt she thought of this before?
Celaena surged to her feet, looked at the vats of oil that were serving as lights on the battlement, and then ran over
to the wall, calculating the distance and accuracy theyd need.
She set down her arrow beside her bow and called to two of the other archers on the wall to join her beside the
nearest vat. They quickly extinguished the fire by means of water, and, wrapping their hands in cloth and whatever
would protect them against the hot metal of the vat, lifted the massive bowl off of its pedestal and carried it to the
edge of the wall. Some of Adarlans soldiers saw what they were about to do, and called to the others to pull back, but
it was too late.

Celaena gritted her teeth in effort as she tipped the heavy vat over the edge, pouring the hot oil all over the wooden
battering ram and those around it. Not waiting for a moment, she seized her bow and her cloth-covered arrow, and
dunked it in another lighted vat, pulling forth a blazing arrow of the gods. Her hands recoiled from the heat of it, and
at first she was terrified it would light her bow on fire as she knocked it into place, but she fired it so quickly that the
pain was only momentary. She and those who could see watched as the flaming arrow shot through the darkness of
the night, and landed with a deep thud in the wood of the ram.

Instantly, flames raced across, and those still holding the ram dropped it and fled. Following her lead, the other
archers beside her swaddled their arrows and ignited them, and soon a hail of blazing rain descended upon the oil-
soaked ram and land before the Southern Gate. As high up as they were on the battlements, Celaena could feel the
heat of the conflagration on her face.

For the soldiers trapped between the flames and the sharp mountains of shale that flowed right to the southeast
corner of the Fortress, there was no hope of survival. The fire spread with a vengeance towards the rocky feet of the
hills, burning alive those caught in its path. Celaena made and fired another flaming arrow, watching with satisfaction
as Adarlans soldiers died in the flames, the smell of oil and burning flesh rising into her nostrils.

It was a foul smell, one that made her throat tighten with disgust, but it was also one of the sweetest scents she had
ever encountered. It was as if the land and elements were fighting back, using the opportunity that Celaena and the
others had given them to do their own share of defending. As Adarlans soldiers fled from the fire, she silently thanked
the dark mass of sharp cliffs and edges, knowing that this one geographical feature had probably done more damage
than she or any other mortal could ever inflict upon Adarlans army.

Through the smoke and the fire, she saw a large shape galloping through the ranks, barking orders that she could not
hear. From the second she recognized the meaty hand grasping the sword raised above his head, she knew that it
was the general she had encountered earlier. Anger swelled in her breast. He was within range

She reached behind her for another arrow, but, to her dismay, found that her quiver was empty. Frantically, she
searched around her for another arrow or quiver, but by the time she had found one and drawn it, the general had
disappeared into the smoke once more.

Damn, damn, and damn again!

Celaena gave the orders for the burning rain to cease, and for the Fortress archers to halt, and removed her helmet to
wipe the sweat from her face and eyes as Adarlans forces moved and regrouped out of arrow range. A cloud passed
over the moon, and soon even the light of the fire was only able to cast a faint shadow upon the swarming forces the
stretched deep into the city. She was exhausted, and they had only faced the front lines of their army, not even
taking down a thousand of their soldiers.

There were cheers from all around her, and the people of Peregrinno were clapping each other on the back, waving
their shining swords in the air as if they had somehow won the battle. Midnight had yet to strike, and there were still
many hard hours before them.

She still knew little of battle and warfare, but she knew that a siege could last months, even years. But, after
surveying the carnage along the battlements, she wondered if they could even hold out for two days time. They had
no supplies in the Fortress, save excessive amounts of ale and wine, and that would come in handy once the wounded
started to pour in for healing, but they had no food stores or ways to replenish their weapons. The assassin looked at
the large bin where the quivers of arrows were stocked. There were less than two-dozen now: only a quarter of what
they had had to begin with an hour and a half ago.

Should Adarlan assault the battlements once more, Peregrinno would not fare so well.

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! said a voice beside her, and Celaena turned to see Phillio and Colwir, each taking in the
damage that only she and a few other women had wrought.
Thank you, she replied, holding up her hair and fanning her sweaty neck. But Im afraid weve got much more than
this in store. Our arrow stores are severely depleted, and while oil and fire may have served us this time, Adarlan will
not be so foolish when they assault again.

Colwir nodded in agreement. It seems as if theyve retreated to just out of arrow rangeto restock and regroup, Id
wager.

The assassin chewed on her lip. Who knows how long it will take them to march on our walls once more.

Well, they know weve got oil and flame, which will keep them from attempting to batter our door down with trees,
but what other evils they have in store for us, I cannot guess, the captain replied, and removed his helmet. My best
suggestion would be to gather the wounded and the dead while we have time, and once they are seen to, get as much
rest as we can. I shall set out a watch on the walls for Adarlans movement. Colwir rested a heavy hand on Celaenas
shoulder. You should be proud of yourselffind a spot where you can recover, leave the dead and wounded to us.
We shall need your strength and cunning many times before the night is out.

Celaena looked to Phillio, who nodded his consent, and rummaged through the mess on the battlements to find her
shield once more. When she managed to get through the throngs of relieved and hopeful soldiers, she walked past the
Gate of Omil until she found a quiet spot where she sat down against the first wall of the Fortress and closed her eyes
as she let out a sigh of fear and exhaustion.

Celaena opened her eyes and found herself in a golden wood, her armor vanished and only a shimmering robe of
lavender silk remained around her figure. With each breath, she felt strength and calm returning to her once more, as
if each heave of her chest was equivalent to a nights worth of peaceful sleep.

Before her stood Maeve, her dark robes glittering in the shining light of the realm, her ebony hair soft and flowing.

The assassin stared at the Fae Queen, and was surprised to see fear in the immortals eyes.

Dreaming again, am I? Celaena asked with a wry smile. Its a bit ridiculous for you to have me come here when
theres a battle going on.

Maeve said nothing for a moment, and stared deeply into Celaenas eyes. The first stage of this battle is over, the
queen said, but the worst has yet to come. You must ready your men and women for open battle, not just the firing
of arrows.

Celaena rolled her eyes in irritation. I know that.

You have been extremely fortunate thus far, and I would like to believe that you will be just as fortunate in the hours
to come.

The Fae Queens words seemed to be fragile, unsteadyand Celaenas stomach began to churn as she sensed the
deep level of the terror Maeve was feeling. Had she ever been afraid? This was just a little battle on the coast! Maeve
had fought in the wars against the Valg: surely a fight between mortal empires would not guarantee such a reaction!

Whats wrong? she asked, and Maeve looked at her, surprised. What troubles you? Celaena asked again.

A shadow of darkness passed before Maeves eyes, clouding them over for a moment before she said: That I did not
see this would happen. I have long been able to see the past, present, and future, but this is the first time that I have
been blind to such an event. I saw that a battle would occur on the coast, but I did not see that you were in it, or that
you were in such peril. It is as if my gifts are waning, that a mist is passing over my powers.

All clouds pass, Celaena offered, but Maeve shook her head.

My race has long been diminishing. Our bloodlines are failing and our numbers decreasing. More and more of our
people wander and never return. I am afraid that with Adarlans coming, what is left of our kind will leave this world
forever.

Why not send aid to Peregrinno? We need helpdesperately! Prince Raonn alone could sway the odds! Surely with
your warriors, as few as they are, we could drive Adarlan from these shores!
The queen shook her head. I was sitting in the garden when I realized what was happening in this town. I rushed to
my mirror and saw slaughter: burning, raping, killingall of the horrors that Adarlan has unleashed many times
before. And then I saw you amongst it all, slaying the soldiers who kept on surging into the town, but to no avail. I let
out a cry of fear, something that I have never done before in my forest realm. My people were shaken by the noise,
and I summoned Raonn to me, watching the events unfold. I was about to send him to your side when the mirror
showed me something else. I saw you standing on a balcony, staring out at the sea. And then around you I saw the
town preparing for battle in the red light of the dying sun, their faces constantly turning towards you, looking for hope
and guidance. Maeve smiled sadly, her eyes bright.

This is your battle, Aelin of Trasien, this is your summoning to greatness.

Celaena snorted at the idea. I am no leader, and I am no warrior. I saw a girl, no more than ten, shot down on the
battlements and I could not move. I lay there, staring at her, hiding in the safety of the wall. I wanted to move, but I
could not bring myself to get to my feet. What leader would do such a thing? What leader would cower when others
were dying? Not one that I would serve under! She laughed bitterly and ran a hand through her hair, finding her
hands to be shaking.

Maeve knelt down on the ground where Celaena was sitting. You will find your courage, and your strength. The Fae
Queen leaned forward, taking Celaenas head in her hands, and kissed her forehead. Her lips were smooth and warm
against Celaenas clammy brow, and the assassin closed her eyes.

May your thoughts be clear in the long darkness ahead, Queen Maeve whispered onto Celaenas golden hair, and a
sense of warmth and comfort filled her veins once more. May your shield be strong and your sword be deadly, and
may the blood of your ancestors guide your heart to victory.

Celaenas eyes became moist, and she opened them to find the queens violet gaze before her.

My sister, Mab, was very much like you, Maeve said softly, smiling. Serve our family well, Aelin Galathynius, she
touched Celaenas cheek with a cool hand, Queen of Trasien.

Celaena opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly Maeves face went pale with fresh fear. Awaken! Maeve cried, and
the forest went dim as a violent wind rushed through it, sending the leaves from their branches. Your walls are under
attack! Fly! Fly to the West Wall or your doom will be at hand!

Celaenas eyes flew open to the darkness and smoke of Peregrinno. There were no sounds of battle, but she leapt to
her feet. It was calm, too calm. She scooped up her shield and helmet and ran as fast she could, crying to the resting
soldiers of Peregrinno to rise and prepare for an attack. Behind her, a wake of fear and panic was left, but she paid no
heed. Where was Colwir? Where was Phillio?

She cried their names into the night, and bounded up the steps to the battlements, the lights of the army spreading
before her as she reached the top. They were still at a distance, but there was something wrong

Why were they still standing there? How long had she been asleep? Not pausing, she ran at top speed down the South
Wall, heading towards the western side of the battlements as fast as she could move in armor. She could hear sounds
of something close beyond the wall, but she could see nothing. Celaena looked at the moon, and found that it was
past midnightshe had been asleep for several hours. She stopped, confused for a moment. Perhaps her dream with
Maeve had been a hallucination. She touched her forehead. Had Adarlan just been sitting there the entire time, or
had

She heard the bizarre noise again. Adrenaline and panic swept through her, and Celaena ran back down to the
Southern Gate, where she grabbed a fresh bow and quiver of arrows. The dead and the wounded had been moved,
and now all that remained of the battle hours before were the fallen grappling hooks, pools and smears of blood, and
some broken arrowheads. Finding no cloth nearby, she reached beneath the skirt of her armor and ripped a piece
from her torn pants. The battering ram was now jut a log of charred wood, and burnt bodies lay all around it to the
base of the cliffs.

Her hands shaking as she halted in the middle of the South Wall, she ignited her arrow and pulled the bowstring back
as much as she could manage, firing the flaming arrow far across the sky. She watched, squinting, as it made its
descent, and then landed amongst where she had expected to see soldiers.

There was nothing.

The arrow illuminated what their torches had not.

Adarlans army had left their fires burning, and had secretly moved on, massing somewhere else

Maeves words rang through her mind, and Celaena raced down the wall with swiftness and ease, silently thanking
Luca for the hours she had spent running across the clearing. As she ran, she made another arrow, dipping it into the
vat at the southern corner of the West Wall. With a sharp twang, she fired the arrow into the West and heard a loud
shout of curses as it fell. The archers along the battlements gasped as it revealed what she had dreaded all along.

Adarlans army, in the hours that they had thought they were standing in the South, had stealthily regrouped itself in
front of the West Wall. Celaena called for another flaming arrow, and fired it straight down along the corner wall.
There was a scream of pain, and Celaenas eyes widened with horror as she saw what the scraping and soft noises
belonged to.

Adarlan had dug a ditch around the southwest corner, digging deep beneath the stone. They had hidden in the
shadows, where torchlight would not illuminate them, and had made significant progress. Their general was cunning
indeed!

Bring them down! Celaena screamed at those stationed beside her, flinging her arm down to reveal Adarlans forces.
SHOOT THEM ALL!

But she knew the damage was too great. They had burrowed deeply already. They might not be able to repair the
hole, but they could keep the soldiers from climbing beneath it!

Arrows were flying past her and over the battlements from the first wall of the Fortress, striking the armor and flesh
of the army below. The screaming began once more.

But Adarlans forces had replenished their supply of arrows, and were now firing upon them again. A wave of arrows
rose up out of the darkness.

SHIELD YOURSELVES! she screamed to the women, and dropped behind the wall to put her helmet on once more.
She scrambled to find her shield, and raised it to cover her head and side as she rose to her feet once more. Fear and
energy were pumping at a wild speed through her body.

COLWIR! She yelled, and then called to the soldiers at the Southern Gate to come. There was a sudden boom, and
Celaena whipped her head to the small, wooden gate that lay at the center of the West Wall.

She cursed violently, and ran faster than she had ever before, leaping over the dead bodies that were beginning to
pile up once again, arrows rebounding off of her shield with sickening impact as she raced to the nearest staircase.
When she reached the bottom, she found Colwir at the gate, commanding men to throw whatever they could find
before it.

The city would fall. They could not control and contain both the soldiers digging at the corner and those trying to
break through the small gate! There was a deafening boom, and Celaena saw the gate swell inwards, splinters
appearing in the worn wood. If they broke through the gate, they would have difficulty getting their numbers through,
the bottleneck effect taking place, but the soldiers coming from beneath would have an even harder time

Celaena slowed her breathing. Perhaps the citys end was not here yet. The battlements still remained, and they could
slay the soldiers individually as they passed through. She could take the gate, Colwir could take the corner ditch, and
the archers could manage the wall. They could still hold out. The battlements still remained.

But then a noise came that made her blood run cold. A noise that she had hoped to never hear again. A shrill wailing,
approaching the wall at rapid speed

She bellowed at the soldiers to get away from the wall, but it was too late. There was a boom that shook the entire
building, and Celaena hurled herself down to the ground in horror as the West Wall of the battlements was blown
apart, stone flying everywhere. She slammed into the first wall of the Fortress, her ears and head aching as her
helmet resounded against the stone. From behind her raised shield, she heard screams of terror and pain fill the air.
She lowered her shield and saw Adarlans army rushing towards the wide space it had just blown open, a smoldering
contraption standing before the wall that she could only guess was the producer of the balls of iron and fire. The
courtyard was filled with debris and dead bodies, the men of Peregrinno dumbstruck with fear.
But Colwir was still standing, and he screamed at his men to form ranks as Adarlan surged forth into the courtyard of
the Fortress. The men of Wendlyn filled the area from the wide hole to the southwest corner, blocking the passage
along the South Wall. For a moment, Celaena thought they stood a chance, but then another horror was unleashed.

The corner wall beneath which the soldiers had been digging gave a groan, and collapsed. They hadnt been burrowing
beneath it to break through, but to break the wall itself! Rock and mortar tumbled downwards, taking with it some
soldiers from either side, and there was a moment of stunned calm before the first of Adarlans soldiers slammed into
the inexperienced, terrified villagers of Peregrinno.

They had been breached.

Celaena drew her sword and charged forward, a cry of fury and despair rippling through her throat as she saw men
struck down, lifeless.

For the rest of her life, she never forgot that moment when she leapt over the villagers body and ducked the blow of
the first soldier that approached her, her sword slicing through his neck as if it were no more than butter. She would
later wake from nightmares in which she remembered that first impact, the rushing adrenaline that made her feel as if
she were on a wagon careening towards a cliff with no possibility of stopping. It was dizzying and terrifying, and she
thought she would lose her stomach, but her feet somehow kept on moving, and her arm kept on swinging.

She didnt look in their faces, only at the parts of their armor where she saw a shadow of opening, where she would
slam her sword in and yank it out, her muscles aching with the effort. The feeling of her sword against metal before
penetrating the softness of flesh made the hair on her arms stand on-end; but she kept on going, too fast for many of
their blows, but easily taking the ones that she received on her shield. She was surprised, at first, at how slow many
of these men wereat how fast and well she seemed to have developed as an assassin, or as a warrior. Had this been
Raonns doing?

She could not see an end to the soldiers rushing through the broken wall, and so she kept on attacking: killing and
slicing, not waiting to see the bodies before she moved past. She had to reach the long courtyard to the Gate of Omil!
She raised her head for a moment as her sword sunk into the side of a man with a squelch, and saw a sea of golden
helmets stretching down the courtyard before her. They filled the long road that ran between the South Wall of the
battlements and the first wall of the fortress, and the dark armor of Adarlan had not yet sullied their ranks. The great
gate was not taken!

Thankfully, many of the men of Peregrinno had been slow to rush towards the Western Gate, and they now lay behind
her in a massive number, shooting a ray of hope through her heart. Onwards she struggled, hoping to reach them,
taking blow after blow on her shieldthud, crash, thud, boom! her shining sword flashing through the air like
lightning.

As skilled as she was in the art of killing, nothing could have fully prepared her for this. The world was filled with
chaos, and soon arrows of Wendlyn were being fired again, crashing down upon the dark masses that were pouring
through the ruins of the West Wall. Swords and shields and spears were everywhere, and the noise of dying and
fighting men would have made her blood turn cold had she not been sweating profusely. Her feet stumbled and
staggered over the debris, but she remained upright, hitting anything that neared her.

Everything became a blur, and her face and arms and legs were soon caked in blood, dirt, and dust. Her teeth were
barred and her eyes filled with rage and desperation as she and the townspeople of Peregrinno fought for their lives,
their town, and their country.

Dorian DeHavilliard tossed and turned in his sleep, trying to escape the nightmare he saw before him. A small town
was in ruin, people were screaming and fighting and everything seemed to be in chaos. There was fighting all over,
and he seemed to fly over the town, looking through both sides for somethingor someone.

He wanted to run the other way, to flee the massacre he was witnessing, but then he saw her.

She was standing in the midst of a dark army, clad in shining, ancient armor, swinging a sword of gold and silver. Her
face was dripping with blood, and she had an expression on her face that he had seen oncewhile she was fighting
Kaltain. It was the face of someone who knew their Doom as approaching, of someone who knew that there was little
hope of survival, but would not go quietly into the endless, dark silence of death.
Her bronze shield was dented in many places, and bloodhers or anothersdripped down it in little rivers and
streams. There was a gash down her arm, and several cuts on her face, and had it not been for all the hours he had
spent memorizing her appearance, he wouldnt have recognized her for a woman.

He cried to her, but she didnt hear him, and kept on slashing and ducking at the soldiers around hersoldiers that
Dorian realized were from Adarlan.

A wall lay in ruin, and he saw a fleet of ships sitting on the water in the distance. Where were they? It felt so realso
awfully, terrifyingly real.

He turned back to her, and saw her strike down a man, her sword sinking into his neck with a squish. Before she
could draw her sword from his body, another man was upon her, and she took his blow with her mighty shield, her
knees bending with the force as she yanked her weapon free of the corpse.

Dorian tried calling to her again, but he felt himself pulled upwards and away, as if he were nothing more than a cloud
caught in the wind. He saw a golden mass of soldiers just beyond the dark line of his countrys army, and prayed with
everything in his soul that Celaena would break free of Adarlans lines and reach the safety of whatever side the
golden warriors seemed to be on. As the town faded, he strained his eyes to see his beloved, but soon even she was
just a speck of gold in a sea of darkness.

Celaena Sardothien swung her sword once, twice, three times, hacking at the head of the soldier before her. She had
been driven up the stairs of the battlements South Wall, and was nearing the Southern Gate. In the courtyard below,
gold clashed against black silver, and the villagers of Peregrinno were forced back at a slow pace towards the Gate of
Omil.

She had lost sense of time, but she suspected that hours had somehow passed. The town of Peregrinno had shown
surprising strength and nerve. Celaena believed this to be because of the fact that Adarlan could not get around them
anymorethey had to attack them line by line, and with the Fae armor and many shields of Peregrinnos villagers, it
was a difficult thing to do.

She was blinded for a moment as the blood of the soldiers severed head spurted into her eyes, and she stumbled,
grasping onto the wall of the battlement for support as she wiped her eyes clean. Her shield felt as if it was three
times heavier than it had been when she first picked it up, and her muscles ached with exhaustion.

Her armor felt cumbersome and awkward against her body, and she longed to take it off so that she could move more
freely and not be burdened with such a weight, but with all of the flying arrows and spears, it would be a foolish thing
to do.

There was an impact against her shield and left side, and she let out a cry of surprise and pain as she was thrown to
the ground, her right arm and sword landing beneath her. She winced in pain as her weight and the weight of her
armor fell on her arm, and she turned over to find her assailants sword careening towards her face.

She raised her shield, took the blow, and made a swipe at his legs with her right foot, catching him, just as Arobynn
had taught her long ago, off guard and sending him crashing to the ground. Her sword arm throbbed, but she did not
hesitate as she lunged at him and drove her sword into his exposed neck.

So much blood

Another soldier appeared, and she stood up, not having enough time to retrieve her sword before the man was upon
her. She took two blows from him, staggering and surprised at his strength, but she was still faster than he was. She
dodged his third blow and then slammed the full force of her shield and body into him, throwing him over the edge of
the battlements and into the fighting masses below. Three more soldiers were coming at her, and Celaena pulled her
blood-coated sword from the neck of the man on the ground, and charged forward to meet them, and every other
soldier that came along after them.

Another hour passed, and the force of Peregrinno was soon far behind her, retreating with every minute towards the
Southern Gate and the Gate of Omil. Celaena held her place on the wall, not yielding to any of the soldiers that met
her shield and sword, though soon she found that her muscles were about to give from exhaustion and her throat was
parched and throbbing. Her hands were caked with blood, and her fingers felt sticky and stuck to the hilt of her sword.

Where was the dawn?

Adarlans forces kept on pouring into the Fortress, getting deeper and deeper into the courtyard, and closer to their
ultimate goal. There was a momentary break in the soldiers rushing up along the battlements, and Celaena turned to
see that the golden host of Peregrinno was nearing the Southern Gate and the southeastern corner of the
battlements. It was only a matter of time before they rounded that corner and took the East Wall, and the Gate of
Omil.

Where is Wendlyn? Are there no others to come to our aid?

She heard a cry ripple through Adarlans army, a call for arrows and archers. They were going to shoot down
Peregrinnos force like animals.

Had she failed? Had she led these people to ruin? Perhaps they should have remained behind their magick shield.

Archers were rushing forward through Adarlans ranks, and Celaena began to run towards the East Wall as she heard
the sharp intake of arrows being drawn. There were two lines of archers in the front of Adarlans force, and the men of
Peregrinno stood before them, not more than twenty feet of space separating the two forces that had now come to a
stop.

SHIELD! Colwir was screaming, and Celaena let out a sigh of relief as she saw that the captain was still alive and in
command of his force. If he survived the night, shed see to it that Galan made him a general or a duke or something
of rank and importance and great wealth.

Celaena ran as fast as she could to join them, and behind her she could hear a new onslaught of soldiers trying to
take the top of battlements from her control. What they wanted was to reach the Southern Gate and open it from
inside so that the rest of the army, however much remained, could pour in and take the Gate of Omil with ease. While
there was little chance of Peregrinno surviving the night with one front of assault, if there were two forces attacking
them, they would not last another hour.

Celaena, as she ran, tried to count the remaining number of Wendlyns soldiers. They hadnt lost many, but there
were less than a thousand left to fight against Adarlan. Most of the women who had been firing down from the first
wall of the Fortress had come down to join their husbands, brothers, fathers, and friendsbut some still remained on
the wall, firing what remained of their depleted stock of arrows upon Adarlans army.

If Peregrinno could withstand the first round of Adarlans arrows, they could possibly hold their ground, but

Celaena saw the General of Adarlan standing near the archers. He raised his wicked sword in the air, and Celaenas
breath caught in her throat as he bellowed with a booming, awful voice: FIRE!

Arrows flew straight into the lines of Peregrinno, and the assassins heart lurched in dread and sorrow.

But the people of Wendlyn refused to yield.

Even as Adarlans fist came crashing down upon them, men and women stepped in to replace their fallen friends and
family members, putting aside grief and fear for the sake of their country and future.

The general gave the command again, and another volley of arrows slammed into their ranks, taking down more men
and women. Still, Adarlan did not break the lines of Peregrinno.

Hope was rekindled, and Celaena, so overwhelmed with emotion, felt tears spring to her eyes as the people of
Peregrinno let out a cry of wrath and raised their swords, charging at the soldiers of Adarlan. Celaena stabbed her
sword into the air and screamed a word of victory before she turned to meet the soldiers that had finally caught up
with her.

She felt reenergized by the courage of these common folk, who now did not seem so common at all. She sliced off the
head of the first soldier that raised his sword against hers, a feral gleam in her eyes.

This is how it should have been. This is what we all should have done in the beginning.

A wind rushed past her, and her heart was burning with such fury and inspiration that at first she did not attribute the
sudden sharpness of vision and hearing and her other senses to the physical change that swept over her.
FOR TRASIEN!

When she met the blow of the next soldier with such ease and strength that she knocked his sword to the ground,
Celaena realized what had happened. The soldiers that had been assaulting her stopped upon seeing the change that
had been wrought upon their enemy, and stared.

She could hear their ragged breathing and almost sense the exhaustion in their muscles. She could feel the weakness
in their armor, and knew where to strike. Her armor suddenly felt too containing, too restrictive of her actions. She
could smell their fear, and it made her bloodlust come to a boil.

Celaena grinned wickedly at the soldiers (who were still held with awe and terror), revealing unusually sharp canines,
at the soldiers, and dropped her shield to the ground with a loud clatter. With her free hand, she unbuckled her
breastplate and let it fall to the cobblestones beneath her. She felt the cool night air pass across her sweaty body, and
she laughed aloud as she removed her helmet her hair fell down upon her back. Had they not been surprised to see
their opponent change into another sort of being, they were even more surprised to discover that their enemy was a
woman.

She raised her sword with both hands, still grinning at the dumbstruck soldiers, and before they could react, she had
taken the heads of the first two. The other six behind them turned on their heels and fled, knowing well enough about
the superstitions and evil within Wendlyn to know that this woman was something that their general had warned
against: she was one of the Cursed Folk, one of the beings that lived forever and fed off of the blood of children.

She fished a dagger from where she had laced it into her greaves and hurled it at the base of the neck of the closest
soldier, who fell down, tripping two of his comrades. She took another one and repeated her actions. The fallen and
dying soldiers struggled to get up, but their armor was so inhibiting that they had barely gotten to their knees when
Celaena reached them and sent their foul souls deep into Hell.

She was a throwback to Mab, heir to the Fae Queens power, and Adarlans assassin. Power seemed to throb beneath
her skin, and she flew down the stairs and straight into the dark lines of Adarlan, her hair shining like white gold in
the moonlight, barely more than a ghost of death. She was faster, more powerful, and smarter than they were. She
could tell when they were about to strike her, and where they would strike, and the rank stench of their fear and
bloodlust fueled her onwards.

Celaena had never felt so empowered, so full of life and energy! Time slipped by with faster speed than ever before,
and she fought through the lines of the army, her sword as light as a feather in her hand. Killing became a rhythm, a
dance that she knew so well and was so good at that she laughed aloud with joy and pride.

But Adarlans army had pushed Peregrinno beyond the Southern Gate, and had thrown open the doors so that a fresh
onslaught now faced the townspeople.

Celaenas rush of power faded as she saw the dead people of Peregrinno, and their shrinking force standing as a last
barrier to the Gate of Omil. There were still so many of Adarlans soldiers left

She swung her sword and drove it downwards into the side of the nearest soldier, and then beat down the blade of
the man who charged at her. As his body fell forward, she leapt backwards, using the two fallen men as a barrier. The
ground beneath her was stained with blood and gore, and many faces of dead men were staring at her, but she kept
on fighting, fighting with the strength that had reawakened in her, fighting for whatever cause seemed better than
letting Adarlan through.

She had forgotten that she had left her sword belt and armor back on the battlements, forgotten that the map of the
barrier reefs lay in her scabbard, she had forgotten that she would probably have to kill Wendlyns king and flee this
country. She forgot pain and fear, and only saw the rolling hills of Trasien, the violet mountains that touched the sky,
and the long fields of golden barley that swayed and moved like the sea. She kept on fighting, killing all who neared
her, so wrapped up in the flow of battle and desperation she felt that she failed to notice the lightening sky.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

Another man died at her sword.

For Trasien, for Mab, for Anuksun.

Three men fell, their blood spraying at her feet. More and more soldiers rushed through the Southern Gate, and she
met them with the force and fury of her ancestors: with the determination of the house of Galathynius and the ancient
power of the house of Ashryver.

She did not halt to see the men die, she did not halt to notice their faces, and she did not halt even as the first rays of
the sun burst down from the edge of the East Wall.

But those around her did. Soldiers of Wendlyn and Adarlan alike stopped, pausing for a moment to see her standing
there in the light of dawn, fighting with such fluid grace and beauty that she seemed to be dancing, a figure of times
and mythology long since forgotten. She glowed as the sun fell upon her in a single shaft, her hair a golden waterfall
that rose and fell with each movement.

So beautiful was she, so unyielding and terrible in her power, that the people of Peregrinno felt their courage rekindle
in their hearts. A cry exploded from their retreating crowd, a cry that shook the soldiers of Adarlan to their core and
gave strength to the townsfolk. It had no formed words, but, as each man and woman, young and old, felt it roar
from their throats, they knew what it meant:

FOR THE DAWN!

They had survived through the night, through the endless hours of fighting and unbearable loss and exhaustion; and it
seemed to them that their very spirits were incarnated in the glowing figure of Aelin of Trasien, who did not notice
their attention until they surged forth past her in a whirl of gold and sunlight, their swords and shields clashing
against the dark, muted silver of Adarlans army.

In the light of dawn, they suddenly all felt like Fae Lords and Queens.

Celaena halted as the people of Peregrinno renewed their assault, and she squinted as she raised her eyes to the sun,
seeing it for the first time.

The dawn! The dawn!

In the growing light of morning, she saw that Adarlans forces were not nearly as large as they had seemed the night
before. Had they done that much damage or had darkness and torchlight made their numbers seem larger?

She did not know the answer, but she did not take the time to dwell on it, for she saw what she had been looking for
all night. She raised her eyes to the battlements and saw the General of Adarlan standing there, watching the battle
below, disbelief and anger written on his face. Then, in horror, Celaena saw with full clarity as Colwir, Captain of
Peregrinno, charged at the enormous man.

They exchanged blows, but the captain was no match for the general, and his shield was knocked over. Celaena drove
herself forward, pushing aside soldiers, running her sword through the foul ones that opposed her, screaming Colwirs
name again and again.

Against her chest the seal of Wendlyn felt heavy and cold.

The general knocked the captain around as if he were a mere toy, bloodying him up and breaking bones. Celaena
reached the wall of the battlements and fought her way towards the narrow staircase, her muscles finally beginning to
ache once more. She screamed Colwirs name once more as she shoved Adarlans soldiers off the stairs with the
strength of the Immortal Race, but she was not fast enough.

The general grabbed Colwir by the neck with one hand and held him up in the air, his eyes turning to Celaena, who
had reached the top of the battlements. With a wicked grin, his eyes still staring into hers, the general took his sword
and drove it into Colwirs exposed side.

A cry burst from Celaenas lips as his blood poured forth, and the general threw him aside like a doll. She watched
him fall and land on the ground, unmoving, his back to her. Her breath came quickly, and her blood throbbed in her
forehead.

She felt a cold-blooded rage come over her, similar to the fury she had felt at Anuksuns death, so powerful that
before she knew what she was doing, she was running towards the general, sword grasped in both hands and raised
over her right shoulder.
She swung at him with all the force in her body, her sharp senses trying to discover the weakness in his armor, but
she found that there was hardly any space for her blade to penetrate. He met her sword with his jagged one, and her
knees bent with the force of holding his sword aloft. She twisted their swords to the side and freed her own, and then
sliced at him again and again, but he deflected each of her blows as if they were nothing. She paused, and he struck,
sending her staggering back with the force of his blow. But she kept on her feet and charged again in a sweeping
attack, hitting his sword from every angle, her eyes blazing in anger and sorrow.

They stood atop the battlements, fighting with speed and strength that could only be previously imagined, and soon
many of those who had been fighting in the courtyard below stopped to look at them. Long ago, it had been a rule
that if the two leaders of each army fought, or selected a champion, the winners army would take the victory, thus
ending any bloodshed before it had begun. But neither the general or the assassin were thinking of thathe only saw
an impertinent woman who had escaped him before, and she only saw the embodiment of everything that she hated
in the world.

Their blades met and held for a moment. She felt the blood of Colwir seep into her sandaled feet, and she emitted
another noise of wrath as she took one hand from the hilt of her blade and struck the general across his hideous face.

The man took two steps away, surprised, but then made such a fast and strong swipe at her that even her enhanced
senses could do little to escape it in time. He sent her flying into the ground, her cheek slicing open against a fallen
arrowhead; and, in horror and shame, she felt her right hand loosen its grip on her sword. It slid forward and landed
at his feet, but the general simply laughed and ignored the blade.

Celaena, knowing that she couldnt take the man down by flesh alone, drew the two daggers that remained laced in
her greaves, and leapt to her feet again. It was hardly anything against his massive sword, but she caught the rhythm
of the Fae once more and slashed at him with lightning speed, the daggers slicing through the air as she struck his
blade again and again, spinning to bestow each blow. But she still underestimated him, and as she made another
rotation, he caught her raised arm and brought her down to the ground, one of her daggers flying through the air, and
the other, thankfully, remaining in her hand.

But what was one dagger against this man?

Damn you, youre Adarlans assassin! Tell him that or kill him and get it over with!

The man panted with bloodlust, and Celaena, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of over twelve hours of fighting and
stress, lost whatever Fae power had entered her.

Her ears turned round, and the feral quality in her face subsided into her soft features, and it was as if someone had
suddenly put a blanket on her senses. Confused, she was slow to react when the general kicked at her outstretched
hand. She cried aloud in pain as she felt a finger or two snap in half as he knocked her last dagger from her hand. She
crouched down as he raised his sword to slay her, looking at the sword that lay so close

I will not die now! Not by his hand!

The thought reassured her, as if some part of her knew it was true, and while the Fae had left her, the assassin
returned.

As his stroke fell, she leapt to the side with the swiftness of a rabbit, and grabbed her sword, bringing it down on his
exposed arm. He howled in fury and pain, and lifted his sword again, but Adarlans assassin had taken over
completely. There was at least one part of his body that was not covered!

Moving so quickly that he couldnt follow her, she charged at him. But before she reached his body, she suddenly
dropped down, her left leg going before her into a split as she took her sword and heaved it with all her might
upwards into his groin and lower belly.

Blood poured down on her, and she scrambled out of the way as the great man emitted a gurgle of pain and crashed
to ruin, landing with a thud on the ground, dead.

A cry of victory rose from the people of Peregrinno, and Adarlans soldiers suddenly felt a sense of panic and loss.
Gmord had been in charge of their mission, and without him, or any surviving leaders, things seemed unclear and
lost. Celaena, smiling in triumph, pulled her sword from the general and ran towards the soldiers that had been
watching from nearby. She heard someone calling her name, but she could not see who it was. She had slain the
general!

Aelin, Champion of Good! Aelin, Champion of EVERYTHING!

Someone screamed her name, but she was too busy gloating over her victory to bother to see what the fuss was all
about. The soldiers of Adarlan raised their shields against her and looked at her pleadingly, but she laughed and killed
them anyway, cleaving their heads in two.

Her name was bellowed again, and she turned this time, looking down from the battlements to see what the cause of
all the trouble was. But she was too late.

She heard the whiz of the arrow and felt the crushing impact in her left shoulder before the pain hit her. Her mouth
opened in shock and she tasted blood in her mouth. The edge of the battlements swayed near, and she saw the
courtyard below, and the Gate of Omil, still closed, then finally the shimmering light of the morning sun.

With a cry of agony, she lost her footing and she tumbled downwards off the ledge, landing on the stone below, her
fall only broken by the stand of wood and cloth that had once been worked in by some merchant who was probably
dead, the arrow burying itself deeper into her shoulder. Every eye in the Fortress saw her be hit and tumble, landing
with her back against the wall.

Celaena had never felt such pain before; and her body, already exhausted, succumbed to the assault. She looked
down at the arrow, and the blood pouring from her chest onto her dirty undershirt, and raised a hand, as if to ward off
some evil. But her eyes darkened, and her hand fell to the cold, wet stone, and did not move again.

When the host that Galans father had sent from the Capital to save Peregrinno arrived at midday, Adarlans army was
gone: the survivors were either locked in the long-unused dungeons of the Fortress, or laying dead in the courtyard or
open land before the South Wall. The West Wall was in ruin, and blood and bodies were everywhere. Before the ruins
of the West Wall lay a contraption that they soon figured out was the device that had fired the ball of iron into the wall
however, it was so heavy that they could only assume that the reason why only one ball had been fired was because
it required several men to work and control, which Adarlan could not afford to do in the midst of a battlefield. No one
had ever seen such destruction before, and there was a heavy silence of sorrow and exhaustion covering the town. It
would take years to rebuild what was lost.

But the Gate of Omil had not been taken.

Five hundred soldiers from Wendlyn had charged towards its closed doors, but once they had gotten inside, they
realized that all of their excitement and fear had been for nothing. The people of Peregrinno had already taken care of
the wounded, and the dead were piled up, ready for burial or the pyre. The fleet of ships that Adarlan had sent had
fled westwards, back across the ocean, and fishermen along Wendlyns coast had reported that the fleet that had
assaulted Baello had departed as well. The host that Galan Ashryver had mustered stopped their charge towards the
town when word reached them that the battle was over and the land was safe once more, and headed to the Capital
to celebrate Wendlyns victoryor extreme luck.

Wendlyns general, immensely confused as to how a small town had defeated six thousand of Adarlans soldiers,
walked up to a man that seemed to have it more together than any of the other townsfolk. He introduced himself as
Lord Flandurn, but the townsman seemed to care little for his title or questions about the battle. When General
Flandurn asked him why he was behaving in such a manner, the man simply pointed out the Southern Gate, towards
a rundown temple of the Goddess, and told him that all of the sorrows and stories of the battle could be found in
there.

The general, more confused than ever, walked out of the Fortress, and up the small, charred hill towards the temple
that lay at the base of the sharp crags of the town. It was a square, stone building, and there was an air of worry and
grief in it as he entered. There were several people, mostly men, but one woman, gathered around one of the two
stone altars that lay on the dais at the front of the room. Upon closer inspection, he saw that a young woman lay
upon the altar, a black, crooked arrow protruding from a deep wound in her left shoulder. Her face was ghastly pale,
her lips void of color, and he would have thought her dead were it not for the slow, minimal rise of her bloodied chest.

He quietly introduced himself, and the people, like the man he had spoken to, seemed to not really care about his
questions of their miraculous victory.
Who is she? he asked after a while, observing the armor that laid on the floor beside the altar. It could only be hers
it was far too slender and fine for any of the people in the room. He had not seen her at court, but she looked

She has a waya feelingabout her that seemsregal.

While Flandurn had never seen one of the Fae, he had heard many tales of their beauty and grace; and, staring down
upon her features, he took her to be one of their kind. But he then saw her rounded ears and knew that his
assumption was wrong. Perhaps she was the daughter of the towns leader

Her name is Aelin, said an old man, who then introduced himself as Phillio, High Town Elder. And she came from
across the sea to save and lead us to victory.

He raised an eyebrow at the man, but his amused expression faded when he saw the tears in the elders eyes. If you
wish to know about the battle, observe her. For without her help, we would all be dead. She is a great woman, Phillio
said, far greater than you and I will ever be, but this insignificant town may have been her doom.

The name of the woman sounded familiar, but he could not place it. This woman led you to victory? he asked, his
brows knotting with confusion. She did not have the build of the warrior!

The people in the temple nodded, and the woman, who bore the robes of a healer, nodded to Phillio.

Hold her down, she said to the old man, and her wrinkled hands hesitated before they grabbed the shaft of the
arrow. A gasp of pain burst from Aelins lips, and her body seemed to rise up in protest, but Phillio held her down as
the healer, with a swift motion, pulled the arrow from her shoulder. Blood poured forth, staining the marble beneath,
and her face turned a shade of gray.

She is dying, said the healer after a quick, failed attempt to stem the blood flow. She has lost too much blood. The
woman ran her fingers across Aelins brow, making the crescent moon sign of the Goddess in her blood, whispering a
prayer.

They lowered their heads in grief, and Flandurn watched in curiosity as the young woman continued to struggle to
hold onto Life. None of them had even been in a legend, nor had they ever expected to witness one happening, but as
soon as they heard the gentle clip-clop behind them, they knew something extraordinary was about to happen.

They turned, and Phillios eyes grew wide with tears and surprise (for he recognized the symbol), as they saw a large,
white stag walk into the temple, looking as if he had just stopped in by mistake on a daily turn through the woods. His
horns reached upwards into the sky like branches of an ancient tree, and his powerful legs trod gracefully on the
stone floor.

He raised his magnificent head, his dark eyes shining with intelligence that they found to be uncanny, and they
stepped aside, knowing in their heart of hearts that somehow this creature wished to see the last moments of Aelin of
Trasien. He clip-clopped to her side, where he touched her cold face with his snout, his breath ruffling her golden hair.
He nuzzled the wound, her blood smearing on his white fur, and let out a sigh that seemed to be of sorrow and
determination.

Dumbfounded, those in the room watched as the stag moved over to the altar beside hers, and struggled to mount it.

Tears slipped down Phillios cheeks as he rushed over to help the beast onto the altar, where it laid itself down and
closed its eyes.

Hes asking the Goddess for an exchange: his life for hers, Phillio whispered as he returned to the humans in the
room.

The healer asked how this was possible, and the old man smiled sadly, his face wet and shining. There are some
things in the world, some traditions, that time and blood cannot forget, even when most that are living have no
recollection of such things ever existing.

Aelins throat tightened and she gasped for air, as if someone were suddenly suffocating her. Her last moments were
at hand.
But then a shining light seemed to enter the room, and it gathered around the two forms of the stag and the woman,
illuminating them, filling them with light. Flandurn, who had had little experience with magick, but enough to know
when it was happening, stepped back, his eyes wide with wonder.

The light around them grew until it was painful to look upon, and suddenly it exploded from both figures into the air of
the temple, merging like strands of rope, and then dividing back into their separate bodies once more.

When Flandurn was able to look towards the altars once again, he saw that all that remained of the wound in her
shoulder was the blood on her clothes. The color had returned to her face, and she appeared to me no more than
sleeping. He turned his eyes to the stag, and found a pool of blood forming beneath it. There, just above the animals
heart, stood a gaping wound. The great beast lifted his head and opened his eyes to look upon Aelin, as if to make
sure his sacrifice had worked, and then dropped down upon the marble altar again, dead.

Aelin Galathynius opened her eyes, feeling strange and warm. Had it all been a bad dream? She blinked, and raised a
hand to her shoulder. How was she alive?

A sigh of relief and exhaustion swelled in her body and broke from her lips, and she closed her eyes for a few more
minutes, trying to sort things out. She recalled the battle, the death of Colwir, her transformation, her duel with the
general, and then the wild, awful pain of death

Celaena Sardothien then opened her eyes once again and raised her head. She was in a temple of sorts, and there
were strange people around herbut she recognized the face of an old man.

Phillio, she said aloud after a moment, finally recalling his name. The old man smiled, and she shook her head,
confused at the tears she saw pouring down his weathered face.

How did you manage this? she asked, looking down in wonder at the lack of any kind of wound on her shoulder. The
old man wiped his eyes and pointed to a space beside her. Celaena turned her head and saw an altar, and upon it

Her breath caught in her throat, and her head swam with confusion. You sacri she began accusingly, her heart
darkening in anger, but he started forward.

He came in here and gave up his life of his own free will

Celaena looked at the wound on the stags chest, and touched the one she should have had. Some kind of magick had
passed between themsome sort of ritual that a part of her somehow understood. In the darkness of her pain and
closeness to Death, she had felt a blinding lightsomething warm and throbbing that seemed to anchor the dizzying
weightlessness that she had felt. It had brought her back. He had brought her back.

The King of the Forest, she whispered, and felt such overwhelming sorrow and gratitude that a lump rose in her
throat. On trembling limbs, she moved from her blood-covered altar and mounted his, lovingly stroking the dead
beasts soft fur.

He was my friend, she said softly to the others, and a dear companion to someone very close to me. What would
Cindrillion think when she discovered that the stag was dead?

So many had died

She thought of the dead girl, and of Colwir, and of all the countless others she had seen killed during the night. It was
too much, even for her.

She could not stop the tears that welled in her eyes and fell down upon the fur of the animal. How had he found her?
How had he known? Burying her face in his neck, Celaena Sardothien, Aelin Galathynius, closed her eyes and wept.

She cried herself to sleep, and then slept for close to a day in some bedchamber in the Fortress. The body of the stag
had been burned as an offering of thanks to the Goddess, and while she had rested, the town had been busy in its
recovery. There were many dead to bury, and many more living to heal, and word spread all across Wendlyn about
the impossible victory of the small town under the leadership of a woman with the power of the Fae, but the body of a
mortal.
When she awoke, she found that Flandurn still wanted an explanation, and so she told him as much as she could
account for. It turned out that after she had fallen, the people of Peregrinno had surged forth with more fury than
they had at the breaking of the dawn, beating back Adarlans army until they had surrendered. Phillio himself had
taken her body to safety while the battle was finished, bearing her weight with little ease, as he sassily told hera
fact that resulted in much laughter.

The remaining soldiers of Adarlans army were still locked in the dungeon, waiting questioning by the king of Wendlyn
and his council, and Celaena took grim pleasure in remembering what Luca had told her about treatment of people of
their nature by the royal court.

On the night of her awakening, Colwirs funeral was held: he was to be set on a pyre at the top of the Fortress, burnt
beside the bodies of Lambar and another Town Elder that had fallen in the battle. As their guest of honor, Celaena had
been invited up to help ignite the flames, and on the lower levels and in the streets of the city, the people of
Peregrinno watched as the sun set and the Elders and Celaena appeared beside the large pyre.

Looking down at the captains face, she felt grief spring up anew, and she removed the crest of the king from her
neck, laying it upon his breast. Her heart felt heavy, heavier than it had in all her life.

May it bring you as much luck in the Afterlife as it brought to me and your forefathers, Colwir, son of Wendlyn. She
touched his bearded cheek and stepped away from his body, watching in sorrowful silence as the pyre was lit and its
flames climbed high and long into the night.

The next morning, Phillio awoke her early, saying that he had something special to show her. Heartsick, yet physically
refreshed, she dressed herself in the fine new garb that had been given to her, and found Galan Ashryvers worn,
patched red coat over a chair in her room. Beside it was her armor, and, to her horror and delight, her sword,
sheathed in its scabbard. She removed the sword and looked in the scabbard to find that the map was intact, if not a
little bloodied. Celaena let out a sigh of relief. She hadnt been discovered.

She sheathed her sword and tied the sword-belt at her side, leaving her armor where it rested on the table. Around
her shoulders she tied Galans cloak, and she paused to look in the small mirror that the room contained.

Her face looked older, more worn and sad, and her skin was awfully pale. She traced a finger down her right cheek,
where a long scratch still remained from the battle. The wound on her forearm had been bandaged, and aside from a
few small cuts over her arms and legs, she was pretty intact.

Aside from the part where the King of the Forest gave up his life in exchange for yours.

Celaena pushed aside feelings of guilt and grief and left the room, going to where Phillio had instructed her to meet
him.

The old man stood before a large, covered lump in the courtyard before the East Wall, several others beside him, and
Celaena raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

We didnt know how else to thank youwords didnt really seem like enough, and were not a rich enough town to be
able to reward you for your services, he said, and Celaena began to object, saying she didnt expect anything in
return, but he raised a hand to silence her.

Its just an outlineor, rather, a blockof what it will be when were able to finish it, but he pulled back the cloth
that was covering the large lump and smiled at her.

It seemed like the base of a monument: white marble that went up to her hip. She stepped towards it and saw an
engraved plaque of gold metal.

Read it, the old man urged, and Celaena walked around the base to see it properly. It said:

Here stood Aelin the Great against the dark legions of Adarlan, a pillar of courage and light that even the first rays of
the sun could not outshine.

Celaenas throat tightened, chills racing down her arms and spine, and she looked at the Town Elders, unable to find
the proper words as tears fell from her eyes. They simply smiled and nodded, understanding.
Aelin Galathynius would never return to Peregrinno, but years later, when relations between Adarlan and Wendlyn
were much improved, she would learn that it had become a prosperous city, soon outgrowing Port Moselian in size
and wealth.

But what she never learned was that, not long after her departure, a great bronze statue was made in her likeness,
and they used the very armor that she had worn in battle (and left behind, save for the great sword). Her right arm
was raised into the air, her sword jabbing the sky, and her left arm held the mighty shield at her side, an expression
of determination and love across her face. The statue was positioned in the exact spot that she had stood when those
first rays of light had crept over the East Wall, and every year after the battle, at dawn of that same day, the town
would gather around the statue to celebrate the years of peace and joy of life that they had fought for and earned.

The wooden wagon shook from side to side, jostling Celaena around rather roughly. When it reached a long road that
went to down to the South, the farmer who had been driving the cart turned to Celaena and bid her farewell,
stammering as he thanked her for what felt like the hundredth time. Celaena leapt off the back of the wagon, waving
her goodbyes to the kindly farmer who had brought her from Peregrinno on his way to the Capital market, and headed
down the road.

She did not feel like a hero, nor did she wish to find a heros welcome at the Chateau. She hadnt really led the town
to victory, aside from her help on the battlements, but the town had made her into an icon of their triumphsimply
because she had been visible as the dawn broke through the clouds of morning. She did not like being thanked for
saving the town, nor did she desire to ever again feel as responsible for the deaths of so many people. To be honest,
all that she wanted was a hot and obscenely massive bowl of paestia, and no mischief from the faeries for one day.

It was a good mile before she came to the long alley of trees that marked the entrance to the Chateau, and she
walked in heavy silence, sighing often to herself. At her side was the great sword she had taken from the armory in
what seemed like weeks ago. Phillio had insisted that she keep it, and she was grateful, for the map of the barrier
reefs still remained in its scabbard. She kicked at the gravel beneath her feet as she walked through the avenue of
trees, wondering how to explain what had happened to her.

Would they notice the difference that she had seen in her face? Or had the battle only changed something that she
could notice? The blue roofs of the Chateau came into sight, and Celaena touched her shoulder with fondness and
sorrow, the map that she concealed in her scabbard feeling as heavy as lead.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 17

Celaena Sardothien scowled as she scrubbed the marble floor, her back and ears throbbing. A few feet away worked
Cindrillion, humming to herself above the racket that charged down from the second floor. They had been washing the
main hall for two hours, and had finally worked their way to the base of the grand staircase.

Unfortunately, the closer the young women got to finishing their work, the louder the noise got.

The Baroness was giving Marghenna and Joline a music lesson, which mostly consisted of the woman playing the
same irksome tune over and over again on the piano while one of the daughters tried to follow the tune on the flute
and the other brayed the lyrics like a donkey.

Celaena reached towards her bucket and flinched as the singer hit a high note, the flute whining along in an ear-
shattering symphony of misery. She wrung the rag, staring down into the frothy bubbles to see a hundred tiny,
distorted versions of her face stare back up at her.

It had been two days since her return from Peregrinno, and things seemed to be back to normal. Her initial reception
had been outrageously joyous, filled with tears and laughterthey had assumed that she was dead after hearing the
horrifying story of the Baroness and her daughters escape from the coastal town. Little had been said to Cindrillion:
thankfully, Luca thought it wise not to announce Celaenas death until Peregrinnos fate was sealed. Instead, he had
repeatedly told the young woman that Celaena was still alive and safe, thus preventing Cindrillion from some sort of
mental breakdown.

It was probably because of Lucas constant reassurance that Cindrillion was a bit confused when the other three
servants had begun whooping and crying with joy when they saw Celaena walk into the kitchen two days ago.
Nonetheless, the befuddled servant girl soon received Celaena with the same warmth, but her knowledge was minimal
of the extreme peril that Celaena had miraculously escaped.
Celaena moved from the bucket and washed the first step of the staircase, glancing over at Cindrillion. It was for the
best that she didnt know about the horrors of Peregrinno. The assassin had even withheld most of her story from
Luca, Stephaenya, and Leighanna, stating that she had only fought alongside the townspeople. She had left her sword
in the bushes by the first trees of the driveway, knowing that the questions it would produce and the awful thing it
contained would cause much more stress than she needed at the moment.

Her hands felt wrinkly and soggy, and Celaena raised them for examination. They were indeed prune-like and ugly.
Frowning, she wondered if this was what they would look like when she was old.

Her face contracted in disgust. She didnt want to get old and look like this! Celaena thought of the Fae, and secretly
wished that she had also inherited their immortality from her great-grandmother, Mab. She was surprised that Maeve
hadnt summoned her yet, but also slightly relieved. She was in no mood or position to recount the battle of
Peregrinno.

She tried her best not to think of it, not to think of the little girl she had seen on the battlements, or of the pyre of
Colwir, or of the meaty, twisted face of Adarlans general. The experience hung in the back of her mind like a dark
cloud, and Celaena felt sick every time it shot out lightning bolts of memory into her conscious.

She stared at the marble and resumed washing again, wishing that she could wipe away her memories as easily as
the rag vanished the dirt and dust that lined the staircase.

Upstairs, a door suddenly shut, and the music was mercifully muffled. Celaenas ears soon picked up a new, more
pleasant noise. From behind her, Cindrillion was singing. It was the same tune that one of the sisters was hollering,
but it sounded sweeter, more elegantprobably what the Baroness had hoped to achieve when she had shoved her
two daughters into the music room for their lesson.

The assassin ceased her washing and turned to look at the young woman, taking a seat on the marble staircase.
Cindrillion washed the floor with ease and grace, and her face was free of any signs of exhaustion or frustration. She
wore a beige scarf over her head to hold her golden hair back, and Celaena noticed the beautiful symmetry of her face
and neck with appreciation and envy. Even in her dull, brown dress and white apron, Cindrillions lovely features could
not be quenched.

So this is why the Baroness keeps her in such conditions.

As the servant girls silvery voice rose and fell, Celaena felt very self-consciousalmost ugly. She knew, in the depths
of her mind, that she was very pretty and graceful in her own right, but while watching the flowing form of Cindrillion,
Celaena felt as thick and clumsy as clay.

Cindrillion reached towards the bucket and pulled forth her rag, a wave of bubbles rising up out of the wooden depths.
Celaena stared in wonder as the large bubbles seemed to float around Cindrillion, reflecting her singing form as if they
were singing themselves. There were hundreds of them: yellow, red, purple, blueall sorts of colorful bubbles that
sang and washed and looked so perfect and lovely that, were it not for the shabby clothes that each figure wore,
Celaena would have mistaken Cindrillion for a Fae Queen.

So transfixed was Celaena by the young womans beauty that she did not notice the trouble that had rampaged across
their hours of handiwork. But Cindrillion did. The young woman suddenly snapped out of her musical daze, her eyes
going wide in shock and horror, and all of the bubbles popped in unison, as if they all had really been made of Fae
magick.

Oh, you mean, awful little things! she exclaimed, and Celaena blinked and looked around.

Lentils and dust had been scattered all over the drying floor, and dozens of pairs of slender-toed feet made
nonsensical tracks through the mess. The assassin gaped in open-mouthed dismay at the wreckage, and anger and
frustration boiled in her veins as she heard several cackles of wicked glee burst from the front doors of the house.

Three exceptionally fat and blue faeries floated in the air, their black eyes shining with delight as they surveyed the
damage that they had caused.

Cindrillion threw her rag on the ground as she stood up and pointed at the mess. You clean that up! she ordered,
and the faeries laughed harder. You clean it up this instant! Cindrillion stamped her foot on the floor.
Celaena rose to her feet and stepped off the stairs. This would take another two hours to clean! If not more because
of all the ridiculous lentils that were strewn all over the place.

How is it that I go from an epic battle to this

Worrying about a mess seemed silly in the aftermath of the battle, but the assassin could not help frantically
wondering how they could clean this up in the least amount of time. Celaenas brows knitted as she contemplated the
relativity of disasters to ones situation in lifehow they seem to expand and contract depending on the moment:
had she been in the midst of battle, this would have been inconsequential, but now that she was back at the chateau,
this mess suddenly seemed as threatening to her well-being as Adarlans general.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, and made towards the bucket, but Cindrillion stopped her. Nothey made this
mess and theyre going to clean it up. The faeries stuck out their tongue, but Cindrillion, in an uncharacteristic bout
of aggression, kicked the bucket towards them, splashing water all over the floor. She grabbed Celaenas rag from her
hand and hurled it at the fattest one, who ducked it. It had better be clean by the time their music lesson, Cindrillion
jerked her head towards the staircase, is done or elseor else something bad will happen, she declared, losing her
nerve towards the end.

The faeries cocked their heads to the side, their grins fading, and then, with a series of claps and whistles and snaps,
burst into laughter as an assortment of birds swooped in through the open door and assaulted the lentils. The
assassin yelped in disgust and terror, and hurled herself backwards onto the stairs, but Cindrillion watched in
satisfaction as the birds pecked and guzzled the seeds down. As quickly as they had appeared, the flock suddenly flew
away, leaving the floor slightly cleaner, but still messy.

Cindrillion tapped her foot, and pointed at the feathers and dust that lay across the hall. Well?

The three faeries looked down in what seemed like shame and acceptance, and then took a huge breath that made
their round bellies expand to nearly three times their size. Their blue and red cheeks were bloated with air, and they
flitted down to the ground and separated into three equal divisions of the room. With a great burst of air, they blew
the feathers and dust forward, and kept on inhaling and exhaling across the room until all the dust and feathers were
gathered in a large pile. Drawing together, they took one large breath and blew the dirty pile out the door and into the
spring wind.

Celaena watched in amazement, and wondered why Cindrillion didnt use the faeries for cleaning on a regular basis.
The three faeries turned to Cindrillion with triumphant faces, but the servant girl was still unmoved. Wash it, she
snapped. They groaned, but Cindrillions temper had returned and her mind was set. You should learn not to make
messes like that! What did you expect would happen? We werent going to wash the floor all over again, if thats what
you were thinking! What would your Queen say if she heard that you had done this? She would not be happy!

At the mention of the Fae, Celaena thought back to the King of the Forest, and felt a wave of guilt sweep over her as
the faeries poured the bucket of water out across the marble floor. Cindrillion still didnt know the fate of her animal
friend, and Celaena didnt have the heart to tell her of the circumstances that had brought about his untimely death.
She didnt want to think about what Cindrillions reaction would be when she discovered that the stag was dead, and
she didnt want to think about how she would find out. Celaena knew that Cindrillion couldnt go for long without
wondering what became of her absent friend, and the assassin fervently hoped that she would be long gone when the
girl learned of his death.

The two faeries that were washing the floor mumbled and cursed and shook their fists at the young women while the
third (and fattest) urged them on with songs and cheers of encouragement. Cindrillion remained in her place while the
creatures worked, and did not move until the floor was as shining and spotless as it had been before. When they
reached the foot of the stairs, they threw down their rags and shook their fists one final time before zooming out the
front door and back to wherever they had come from.

Celaena looked at Cindrillion, who had picked up the rags, and raised an eyebrow. Why didnt you make them do the
stairs?

The girl looked at Celaena, confused. They only ruined the floorit would be an unfair punishment to make them do
more.

Meaning the punishment should fit the crime?

Cindrillion nodded, and picked up the bucket, her gentle disposition returning. Celaena stared at her in wonder once
more, not feeling ugly, but rather foolish. In fact, she was embarrassed. Cindrillion set out to refill the bucket, and the
assassin watched her disappear around a corner, puzzled as to how a servant girl could be more just and wise than
she.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena walked through a shimmering forest, the golden trunks and silver leaves of the trees passing her like pickets
in a fence. She knew that she was dreaming, and she wondered who or what she would encounter when she reached
wherever her feet were guiding her to. Naturally, it was in a clearing that her legs finally stopped moving, and
Celaena looked down to see herself clad in a dress of sunshine yellow, sparkling with raindrops of diamond and ruby.
She had never really considered yellow to be a color that would look good on her, especially with her hair and fair
skin, but she was immensely pleased that it looked so good. Against her forehead she felt the cool weight of an ornate
circlet, and she touched it to find that it was made of jewels (what color, she did not know), not just metal.

The glistening mist in the clearing began to part and a male figure appeared at the other end, as if he too had just
arrived from a walk through the woods. Her heart began to beat as the curtain of fog pulled back far enough for her to
see who it was. She was running before his name was fully formed on her lips, and with a gasp of joy, Celaena
Sardothien threw her arms around the neck of Dorian DeHavilliard.

It had been a while since their last dream together, and Celaena breathed in his scent as she buried her face between
his neck and shoulder. She could feel his soft, dark hair on her face, and feel the strength in his arms and the warmth
in his chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut to savor every feeling and sensation he produced.

His hands lay upon her back, holding her close; and chills of pleasure raced down her arms as his breath caressed her
neck. They stood there for what seemed like hours and yet like minutes, holding each other for whatever reassurance
and comfort they somehow needed. At last, they withdrew, but did not break their embrace.

Having come so close to death, his face seemed even more beautiful, and Celaena put a hand on his cheek, unable to
resist.

They stared at each other, their glittering eyes saying what their voices could not. At long last, Dorian spoke, and
removed his hands from her waist.

I had this dreamthis nightmare, he began, and turned away. It felt like this: it felt real, as if I were witnessing it
with my very eyes.

Celaena raised her brow and watched him begin to pace.

I saw you, he said, and turned towards her again. I saw you in the midst of a battle. A battle on the coast, with one
dark army and one

Of gold, she finished for him. There was a fortress, and one wall of its battlements lay in ruin, from which the dark
army poured forth, correct?

Dorian nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. So it was not just a dream?

Celaena shook her head, and bitterness and betrayal shaded her eyes. It was no dream. What you saw was the
battle of Peregrinno. Her last words were coated with venom, and she glared at him. Your father and his councilmen
certainly didnt tell me of that plan when I left Adarlan.

I did not know until the morning before the battle.

She gave him a weighing look, and he exposed his palms to her, appealing to her trust. His ebony hair shone beneath
a silver circlet, his sapphire eyes emphasized by the green tunic he wore. I honestly did not knowI was just as
shocked as you wereor, rather, are. But, he said, and it was his turn to look angry and worried, what were you
doing in that town? I thought your estate was in the countryside.

He paused, and his eyes grew wide with realization. We lost then? We lost the battle? Word has not yet come back of
the victory or defeatGmords army was defeated? By that little town? Or did Wendlyns army somehow arrive from
the Gulf of Baello and save the day?
Gmord?

The general that my father sent over.

Celaena chewed on her lower lip, reliving the duel in her mind. So that was the brutes name, she said, more to
herself than to him. Dorian frowned.

Please dont tell me that you slew him.

Through the groin.

Dorian groaned and threw his hands up in the air. First you befriend Galan Ashryver, then you kill my fathers
general, and, let me guess: you defeated the army single-handedly?

Celaena rolled her eyes. I would have died along with the rest of Peregrinno if I hadnt fought Gmord and your army.
I wasnt really in a situation where I could leave the Fortress of Peregrinno to find that awful man and explain to him
who I was and why I was there, and expect not be killed or raped a hundred times over! Have some sense, Dorian,
she scolded. I did what was necessary to survive, and besides, she smiled at him with false sweetness, I managed
to get my hands on Wendlyns naval defense plans and a map of the barrier reef.

The Crown Prince sighed in frustration. Did you really?

She nodded. So I dont think you have anything to worry about. Ive told you this a hundred times before, and Ill say
it again to get it into your thick skull: Ill accomplish my task in the end.

I want you to tell me about the battle from beginning to end.

What? she snapped.

I want you to tell me why you were in Peregrinno and how the battle started and ended. And why Gmord is dead and
youre still alive.

I think thats pretty obvious, isnt it?

Gmord was a beast of a man!

Well, Im Adarlans assassin!

He was practically double your size and triple your weight!

So?

Just tell me the damned story, Dorian snarled, and Celaena rolled her eyes, motioning for them to sit down on the
soft grass as she began her tale.

A while later, and with a few not-so-minor details excluded (mainly the stag, the statue, and the innermost workings
and motives of her heart and mind), Celaena finished her tale of the battle.

Dorian shook his head in disbelief. Well, at least you werent as involved as I thought you were. I dont know if I
want to congratulate you or scold you. As Dorian DeHavilliard, I want to thank the gods that you won, but as the
Crown Prince of Adarlan, I want to wish that my father had sent Aedion instead of Gmord. Or, rather, that Aedion had
showed up in Renaril in time to go with the boats to Wendlyn.

It felt as if a sliver of ice had shot itself deep into her heart. Aedion? she asked, her voice sounding odd in her ears.

Dorian grimaced. One of my fathers generals from Trasien. Hes supposedly the best warrior in Adarlan, but hes so
arrogant and uncontrollable that hes probably as much of a threat to my father as you are.

I should hope so.

Im surprised that my father let him livehes an Ashryver, kin to your beloved Galan.

Oh, really? she asked with false surprise. Why did your father let him live?

She managed to keep a calm face, but inside she was reeling. Aedion Ashryver! She had not heard his name in years.
Her cousin and closest childhood friend

Dorian sighed, looking incredibly bored; but began to recite the warriors history.

A few years ago, there was a threat of rebellion in the Northern Mountains of Trasien, so my father rode out with a
host to quell whatever insubordination was brewing. When they got there, there was hardly any fighting, but he did
come across an extraordinarily talented and skilled young warrior who claimed to be of the Ashryver family. I suppose
he told my father this in hopes of being executed, but my father seemed to think that Aedion would be much more
useful as a soldier in his army. Dorian tossed his head and exhaled a long breath through his nose. And then my
father made Aedion an offer he couldnt refuse: he could either join the army or watch as his entire town was razed to
the ground along with its inhabitants.

Celaena bit down on the snarl that formed in her throat. So hes basically enslaved into military service? Thats not
exactly the wisest thing for your father to do, is it?

A puzzled look crossed Dorians face. To keep Aedion in check, my father threatened to destroy Aedions village if he
ever committed an act of treason.

I suppose that, to convince himself that his situation was not as horrible as it seemed to be, Aedion used the once-
existing marriage between the Ashryver and Galathynius families as a reason to work for Adarlan. He knows that hes
diluting himself, and told me that his allegiance to my father hangs by a thread. I believe him. Hes more trouble than
hes worth, and if I were king, I would have had him executed a long time ago.

What? she snapped, and then checked her rising temper. Aedion Ashryver: General of Adarlan. The thought made
her blood boil with rage and guilt.

If you met him, Dorian drawled, youd understand.

She suddenly wanted to smack Dorian across the face. She felt like tackling him, breaking his nose in two, and then
ripping off his face with her fingernails.

You look like youre going to be sick, he said, and stroked her cheek with a finger.

Unable to control herself, she slapped his hand away and glared at him.

A lookfear, hurt, confusionpassed across his face and then disappeared. Did I say something wrong? he asked
gently, and the concern in his eyes softened her rage.

He had done nothing to Aedionhe was just the product of Adarlans corruption. But his father

She felt immense relief to find that Aedion was still alive, but to know that he was in the service of that vile man, even
unwillingly...She felt an urge to leave this dream, wake up, remove her sword from its hiding place and rip the map to
shreds.

He was her kin, he had practically been a brother, and he washe was Adarlans greatest warrior. He was a general in
Adarlans army. Did Maeve know that? Did Maeve even know that those that had been closest to Aelin Galathynius
wore the shackles of Adarlan?

Celaena?

Celaena blinked, and gathered herself together. Im sorry, she said, I justIm sorry.

She turned her head and looked towards the trees, not seeing the worried and suspicious glance that Dorian gave her.
They stared at the woods in silence, listening to the haunting singing that floated in the air.
Dorian, she said suddenly, not looking at him, you have to send Chaol away.

Dorian stiffened and his head whipped around to look at her. What? he asked incredulously.

Your father, Celaena said, gathering her strength to her, and Im confident you know this, had to have some kind
of bait to lure me back to Adarlan with. Something that would keep me from remaining in Wendlyn and ensure that I
did my job.

Dorian nodded.

Well, Celaena said as she thought back to the night she and Chaol had spent together, he couldnt exactly threaten
to kill you, but

Dorian stood up, and shook his head in violent disbelief. No. Chaol is Captain of the Royal Guard. My father wouldnt
threaten to kill him.

He did, and hes going to if I dont return.

Dorians mouth gaped open. But youre going to! Youre going to returnyou have to!

Celaena nodded, and rose to her feet. Im planning on it, but should I be incapable of fulfilling certain parts of the
bargain, I dont want Chaols life to be forfeit.

My father is not going to kill him!

Say that all you like, but that doesnt eradicate what your father told me. And, from the sound of it, he hasnt exactly
been filling you in on his plans lately, has he?

For the first time, Dorian looked as if he would actually kill her. Celaena took a step back, in sudden fear and doubt,
and wondered if he would try to harm her. A cold wind filled the clearing, and Celaenas dress tinkled as it fluttered in
the breeze. She stood perfectly still as Dorians eyes burned with fury, not daring to move, just as she would have
stood before a wild animal ready to charge.

She was afraid to speak, afraid to even move her eyes from his face. Would Maeve protect her if he assaulted her?

Could I even defend myself against whatever he might unleash against me? What would it feel like?

Celaena found herself trembling as she stood before him, and her brows involuntarily contracted with fear. Her breath
caught in her throat, and she waited for his attack, not knowing what to do, but it didnt come. Instead, the rage in
Dorians eyes began to fade, and her lowered his gaze.

She was still shaking when he raised his head to look at her again, still afraid to move. While she had often risen to
the killing-edge before him, she had never seen Dorian snap into it so quickly. And it had been directed at her.

Or had it? She knew that Dorian would not have done something like that without a good build-up behind it, so
perhaps her words had not been the first of that nature.

Youre trembling, he said, and there was a sharpness to his voice that she could not miss. Celaena tried to smile in
reassurance, but found that her nose only wanted to crinkle up in what would have been a sob or a gasp of fear if she
had not controlled herself.

He stared at her, his eyes cold and unforgiving, and she raised a hand to her throat. Was that what it was like to be
on the receiving end of a magickal assault? Or was that just the wrath of the Crown Prince of Adarlan? Were they
separate entities or were they one in the same? Or had that just been a brief introduction before the main show? Her
heart was pounding so quickly that she felt as if she were going to vomit.

Do I look like that when I touch magick? Do I look that terrible and frightening?

But as the seconds passed, she watched his face melt into its normal softness: the mischievous sparkle returning into
his eyes.
He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. Youre white as snow. I know that you

At his gentle tone, she felt anger surge up in her, and she shoved him away. How dare you do that? How dare you
use your magick to frighten me like that?

What she had really meant to say was: If you love me, why would you do that?

If youd shut your mouth for more than a second, you would have just gotten an apology! he barked at her.

Her mouth popped open. Apology? Gods above, Dorian! You just went on the killing-edge in front of me and you
believe that an apology can make up for what I had to go through? I thought you were going to blow me apart!

I wouldnt have blown you apart, he snapped.

She snorted in contempt. You most certainly would have!

Youre still alive, arent you?

Barely!

Dorian looked at the terror that still lay in her eyes and sighed deeply. She expected him to keep on fighting with her,
but his shoulders relaxed and he softly said: Im truly sorry. Its just thatthats not the first time Ive heard those
words. Aedion said them to me not two days ago, and itsits a bit too accurate for comfort.

Celaena suddenly saw the fear and sadness in his expression, and felt an urge to take him in her arms and protect
him from whatever evil was looming around his head. He was just a young man, barely more than a boy, trying to
find his place in a world that he didnt really approve of or believe in, a world where his lover was his fathers enemy
and his best friend was next in line for the gallows. What would she do in his situation?

I just dont know whom to trust anymore, he said, his voice breaking. The Minister of Trasien is pointing me in the
direction of treason, and now you tell me that Chaol will be killed, and theres this whole situation with Peregrinno and
and I just dont know anything. Everyone seems to know much more than I do, and its as if Im constantly trying to
figure out riddles that seem to have no logical answer but treason or revolution.

Celaena moved over to him, filled with pity and concern. What was Tiryn plotting?

You can eliminate the stress of Chaols situation easily, she said gently. Send him away as soon as possiblesend
him as far away as, she stopped herself. No, theyll expect him to go far away. Her brain was working with
lightning speed. The plan formed in her mind and glittered with brilliance. Smiling, she began again. I guess that
most of the time, what youre looking for is always right in the open, right beneath your noseDo you have any close
friends in Renaril that are not in contact with your father or anyone else?

Dorian shook his head.

Celaena bit her lip in sudden doubt and disappointment. But then another alternative appeared. It was dangerous,
and reckless, but it would work. Send him to Arobynn Hamel, she said.

The assassin? Dorian gaped.

My mentor, she corrected, and quickly told him how Hamel could be contacted. Tell him everything, she said as
she finished. Tell him that I need Chaol protected, and Arobynn will hopefully take him in. Chances are hes more on
your side than your fathers, so Chaols possibility of survival is high.

She rubbed her neck and said sheepishly: It might help if you threw in a bag of gold as well.

You really expect Chaol and me to pretend as if hes leaving for a big journey and then send him less than five miles
away?

If you want him to live, you will.

The Crown Prince laughed in disbelief. I cant believe Im following advice that I received in a dreamespecially from
you.

She smiled at him and ruffled his hair. Its funny how quickly things can change, isnt it?

He kissed her lightly on the lips, and grinned. Indeed.

Celaena flushed and looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

What happened to that passionate greeting I received earlier? he goaded.

I would have done the same for anyone else I hadnt seen in a while, she said, and turned her nose skywards.

You certainly smelled and molested me an abnormal amount!

I did not molest you, she protested.

He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close to him once more. Her pulse began to race in
excitement as he caressed his nose against hers, and then bent his head to kiss her.

Im sorry, he said onto her lips, and then playfully nibbled on her bottom one. Im so sorry for what happened, he
kissed her again and again, moving from her mouth to her neck. She felt such overwhelming passion, such an
overwhelming desire to be with him for the rest of time that she grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him more
deeply than she had ever kissed him or any other man before. He loved her, and he listened to her, and he was just
as lost and lonely and scared as she was, if not more so, and, oh

The rush of intensity that she felt for him frightened her more than any kind of killing-edge that he could rise to, and
Celaena held him so tightly that he paused and removed himself from her.

Whats wrong? he asked, and her face turned red once more. He smirked at her speechlessness. Just overtaken by
passion and lust, I assume?

She playfully slapped his cheek, as his lips met hers once again and her fingers dug into the soft muscles of his
shoulders, leaving her reeling in bliss.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien awoke smiling the next morning, and was unable to stop smiling throughout the day. Luca
laughed at her several times during their training session, questioning her as to why she was in such a good mood,
but she was unable to do anything but shrug and grin foolishly. At breakfast, more jokes had been made, and many
more while she washed the dishes, and by the time Raonn landed on the half-door, her sheepish joy was still bursting
from her.

She grinned at the bird, and curtsied with enthusiasm that made him hop from one foot to the other, his head cocking
to the side in confusion.

Yes? she asked, laughing. Have you got any eggs for me to cook? Im starving. Or perhaps you could save me all
the mess and trouble and just hop into my frying pan.

Raonn flapped into the room, landing at her feet, and made a sharp jab towards her toes with his curved beak. She
snorted with amusement and kicked at him, causing him to flutter backwards. Two faeriesone red, one purple, each
scrawny and long-limbedpopped into the room and stared at the bird with curiosity. They were well aware that he
was Fae, but they also knew that he wouldnt change into his Fae form in a mortal household. Their dark eyes shone
in the midday light, and their irradiant wings buzzed with brewing mischief.

Celaenas grin increased as she turned back to the sink, savoring the squawks and giggles of wicked glee that burst
from behind her. Raonn flew three times around her head, the faeries zooming behind him, carrying bits of spiders
silk for string and a large beehive for what Celaena assumed would be a cage. The three airborne creatures flapped
and flitted out the door, Raonn screaming in indignant fury and frustration.
She laughed to herself, and scrubbed the last white plate clean before setting it on the drying rack and hopping over
the bottom half of the door.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She found Raonn sitting on a tree stump where they normally met, and Celaena was surprised to see that her sword
was placed beside him.

Where did you get that? she asked, her grin of amusement fading from her lips.

I almost knocked myself out on this while I was hiding in the bushes from those ridiculous beasts.

Its mine, she snapped.

I assumed so. A trophy of war?

She rolled her eyes and picked up the blade. Hopefully the defense plans werent ruined. The scabbard was dry, so
she assumed that its insides were in the same condition. Howd you manage to get rid of them? she asked, jerking
her head to indicate the faeries.

As soon as I got deep enough into the woods, I changed back and sent them flying home with two booming rain
clouds overhead.

She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval, but smiled. Celaena walked to the gray horse that Raonn had brought
and mounted it in silence, suggesting that they should begin the journey to Doranelle.

They went without speaking for some time, and Raonn did not look at her when he began to talk again. How was it,
by the way?

How was what? she asked, trying to balance the sword across her lap.

The battle.

She looked at him, and then looked down at the sword. She felt nauseated thinking about the battle. Awful, she said
more quietly than she had intended. He turned to watch her, but she kept her gaze upon the worn, brown scabbard in
her lap. It was horrific.

She felt frozen with the weight of her memories, as if she had suddenly turned into stone, and Raonn nodded his
head, saying nothing.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Maeve released Celaena from her tight embrace, and cupped her face in her ivory hands. I believe you have heard
this enough, but I must tell you that it is a wonder and a joy that you are alive.

Celaena was unsure of what to reply. Thank you for your help, she said awkwardly, I meanwhat you said in that
dream. If you hadnt told me about the West Wall, we would have been slaughtered.

Maeve smiled. What else are Faerie Queens born to do than rescue young women from impossible situations?

The assassin tried to smile, but only managed to purse her lips.

I see you brought back a sword.

Celaena nodded and picked up the sword from where she had put it on the ground. Raonn, who had been standing
patiently at the edge of Maeves clearing, took a step forward. The assassin handed it to Maeve, hoping that the
concealed map wouldnt be discovered.
The Fae Queen turned the scabbard over, looking for markings, but found none. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw
the pommel and hilt, but she said nothing until she drew the blade from its leather case.

Where did you find this? she asked quietly, an expression on her face that Celaena could not read. At best, it was a
mix of sorrow and surprise, maybe even awe.

Celaena quickly recounted her tale of the discovery of the sword, and the armor that it came with.

And you left the armor in Peregrinno?

Celaena nodded.

Maeve ran a hand up and down the smooth blade. I supposeyes, I suppose thatyes, it all makes sense now.

Celaena raised an eyebrow. What? she asked.

Im sorry, the Fae Queen apologized. Time and memory have a strange hold on my heart.

She was silent, and for the first time, Maeve looked more like a young woman than, wellwhat she was.

This is Goldryn, Maeve said proudly, sword of Athril, one of the greatest warriors of our race and history.

Raonn gasped from behind Celaena, and she heard him stampede forward to look more closely at the sword.

What in Hell was it doing in that shabby little town? Raonn demanded, and Celaena glanced at him. His face was full
of fury and yearning.

Maeve looked at Celaena. There was no plaque or inscription by the armor?

She shook her head in response. It was just in the back of the armory, collecting dust.

Thats despicable, Raonn spat. Trust humans to not know when a priceless artifact is in their midst. I suppose every
young man and gap-toothed farmer in the town had tried on and ruined the armor, correct? It was probably used as a
scarecrow at some point.

Celaena ground her teeth in anger at his disrespect for the townspeople of Peregrinno. They did no such thing, you
arrogant imbecile, she snapped. It was forgotten and clearly hadnt been used inwell, a while. She tossed her hair
and barred her teeth. And if I dont recall correctly, it was these gap-toothed farmers that lost their lives while
defending your country.

If the armies of Adarlan had come here, they would have been

Oh, dont be so foolish as to assume that you would have been immune to the destruction of Adarlan! They possess
technology and tools that would destroy your forestand all of Doranellein less than an hour. You owe your life and
the safety of your land to the townspeople of Peregrinno, and you would do well to show them a little damned respect.

Besides, Celaena added, turning back to Maeve, its just a dead warriors sword. What was so special about Athril?

In the wars against the Valg, Athril was one of my generalsand closest friends. Maeves voice was strained, and
from the look in her eyes, Celaena silently wondered if perhaps the warrior had been more than that.

The last battle with the Valg took place in a mountain pass named Dyrsel. We had been driven back from the sea,
and that mountain pass and its lonely watchtower were the only things keeping the Valg from breaking into our forest
realm and destroying the very heart of our land. While many of our kind believed that Goldryn in the hands of Athril
was unbeatable, we still suffered enormous losses.

You see, Athril had been one of the first Faea child of the Goddess, raised in peace and love and boundless joy. But
when the Valg broke into our world, his blood called him to defend his country. We knew little of weapons, and even
less about how to use them, but Athril was Summoned by the Goddess and went deep into the mountains, to a sacred
lake in a fathomless cave. Some say that he was taught by the Goddess herself, and others say that he knew all along
what he was doing.

Knew what? Celaena asked.

How to make swords. You see, the cave possessed large metal depositsof a wide variety. And deep within the cave,
beyond the lake, was a volcanic river. Athril pretty much had a naturally-made forge at his fingertips. He never told
me how he knew what to do with the materials, but I suspect he combined what knowledge he had from building
Doranelle to what little he knew about weaponry. He was there for a whileseveral months if I recall, and when he
came back to Doranelle, he carried four swords, one of which was Goldryn.

The other three he made for me and my sistersmostly for decoration, but Goldryn

Maeve held the sword in the air, examining every inch of it. He poured everything he had into this sword, and it
served him well. He kept a journalwhich my people later turned into a bookIll give it to you before you leave. The
story of how he came across the ruby is fascinating.

If he had a journal, then why is there speculation about how he learned how to forge weapons? Celaena asked.

Maeve smiled. Because he didnt write about how he learned it, but rather how he did it. There are times when
guessing can easily be confused with divine intervention, and I believe Athril did a lot of that.

So he came back down from the mountain with four swords and instructed your people on how to arm themselves?

Precisely. But there wasnt an abundance of natural forges like Athrils Cave, so we had to build our own. It was hard
and stressful, but by the time the Valg arrived on our shores a few months later, we were well armed and ready for
battle.

The war raged across these shores, and the Valg continued to break through our defenses. Finally, we amassed our
forces and met in the Halbeth Mountains, setting up our main defense at Dyrsels Pass. It is a long story, and a sad
one, but during the last battle, Athril was found locked in mortal combat with one of the Greater Valg, one of their
Dark Lieutenants who was nearly twice his size and armed with a wicked blade.

Chills ran down Celaenas arms at the parallels that were beginning to appear. But Maeve seemed to not notice, and
continued.

Athril was wounded, but Goldryn remained true and he killed the Dark Lieutenant. But as he was turning away from
his enemys black, shadowy corpse, one of the Valg shot a poisoned arrow into his heart.

Maeve sighed, and closed her eyes. And so Athril was slain upon the mountainside, his vision cast upon the glittering
sea and the green lands that lay beyond. In a course of events that I will not explain now, we won the last battle, and
the Valg were destroyed. I was far away from Halbeth, and by the time I arrived home, his body had been taken back
to Doranelle. In the midst of our sorrow, we forgot about his armor, and wanted little to do with thoughts of war
especially of the sword Goldryn. The remaining Fae soldiers must have placed the armor and Goldryn in the chamber
in the bowels of the Tower of Halbeth, which later became the Fortress of Peregrinno. And so it lay there, forgotten,
for thousands of years.

Celaena looked at the sword with newfound appreciation and awe.

It is funny, though, Maeve said, and Celaena was taken off balance by the watery mist that coated the queens eyes,
how history tends to repeat itself. I wonder how Athril would have fared if a stag had given its life for his. She
paused, her gaze upon the ground, lost in a vortex of time and space. But she said after a moment, maybe his
death was necessary in order for your life to continue.

Celaena shook her head, not understanding.

Maeve handed the great sword to Celaena, and looked skyward. You see, Athrils other form was that of a stag.

She couldnt believe what she was hearing. But I thought that the house of Galathynius was created by Glamasil!
Maeve nodded. It was. But Glamasil, too, fought in the Valg Wars, and he was with me in a distant part of the world
when we learned of Athrils death. We were together on what you might call a quest, and Athril was our mutual friend.
When Glamasil was banished across the ocean many years after the Valg Wars, he made his crest that of a stagin
memory of his dear friend. He believed that it was divinely ordained to do so, as Athrils last vision had been of the
sea and the land beyond.

But I thought that the king of the forest was just an animal.

He was, but he was raised in the realm of the Fae, and no stag that has even dwelled and fed in our woods has ever
escaped Athrils influence. That is why they are so noble and braveand why the stag gave up his life for you.
Perhaps Athril, from wherever his spirit resides, also saw the bizarre parallels of the two battles and knew that the
time has come for history to stop repeating and start instructing. Or perhaps it really was just a coincidence. Call it
divine, call it fate, call it an accident, but I think its a sign that you cannot ignore.

A sign for what? Celaena asked, feeling strangely young and stupid and foolish.

I think you know the answer to that question.

Celaena snorted in frustration, and then made to hand the sword back to Maeve.

No, the Fae Queen said, it belongs to you.

Celaena opened her mouth to object, but someone else beat her to it.

Thats a Fae artifact! It belongs in one of our collections, not in her hands!

Raonn, if you had been ordained to find Goldryn, you would have. It came into her possession, and so it will stay.
She has earned it, and I will not have it any other way.

Celaena looked at the seething Fae Prince, and then to Maeve, who had returned to her normal, aloof countenance. I
actually.I agree with him. I cant have this swordits history is too great for me to wield.

Your bloodline indicates that you should be wearing this sword across your back. Look at the faint writing etched in
the base of the blade. Can you read that?

Celaena raised the sword close to her eyes and tried to make out the markings. It was foreign to her, so she shook
her head in response.

I didnt expect you to. It is written in the first language that we invented and used until the Age of Glamasil, when
our minds took great leaps and bounds. It was carved by Athril himself and says: Goldryn, sword of Athril. None but
those worthy shall pull me from this sheath, for I was forged with honor and with Fae blood, and baptized in the
sacred lake of Alaii, the lifes water of the Goddess.

Celaena frowned, still in doubt.

Fae oaths and inscriptions are not as hollow as words used by mortals. When they are utteredor engravedwe
mean them, and they hold. You were deemed worthy of Goldryn, so it has come into your possession. Until you find
someone else, Maeve said with sudden coldness, and Raonn took his leave, still glowering, worthy of the sword, so it
shall remain.

Celaena sighed and picked up the sheath from where Maeve had placed it on the ground, quenching Goldryns silver
flame in its musky darkness.

Maeve pointed towards a small path and beckoned for Celaena to walk with her. They walked in silence until they
came to a small brook with a large weeping willow beside it. Maeve sat down upon a smooth gray rock, and the
assassin leaned Goldryn against the trunk before seated herself on a low-hanging branch of the tree.

Im sure you know, the Fae Queen began, that word of Aelin of Trasien winning the battle of Peregrinno has spread
across Wendlyn. How does it feel to be a national heroine?
Celaena stared at the queen, wondering if she was joking, but saw no expression of amusement on her wise face. The
assassin stared up at the branches of the tree, watching the small leaves sway and collapse upon each other like
drunken dancers. For all the supposed glory that the battle has brought to my name, I would rather it had never
happened. I do not feel like a hero, nor do I wish to be one if this is the cost.

And what cost do you speak of?

Celaena saw Colwirs pyre, and the many bodies of those lost that night.

I dont believe that personal glory should come after such destruction.

But you saved the townand the country.

I didnt save anyonethey saved themselves. I just helped them organize. They made me into an icon for glory and
heroism because I looked the part. I was wearing Athrils armor and wielding Goldryn, and I was tall and beautiful and
fought like one of your kind. But I did nothing extraordinary, nothing worthy of glorification. If anything, they should
be praising those left dead in Adarlans path, the people who gave their lives, not those who managed to escape with
them.

The people of Wendlyn have praised their deaddo not believe them to be as foolish as those in Adarlan. They praise
you as a true hero, for what they saw of your character that night.

Nonetheless, Celaena said, watching the brook, I would rather it had never happened at all.

Even if it means that Aelin Galathynius has just taken the first major step in reclaiming her country?

Her head snapped around to stare at Maeve with narrowed brows. What?

Word will soon spread across the ocean that Aelin of TrasienAelin Galathyniusled the people of Wendlyn to
victory. The King of Adarlan may dismiss it as rabble nonsense, or he may begin to fret that perhaps you are alive and
therefore a threat. But his opinion is of no matter to you or Iits the peasants, the rabble, the people enslaved in
mines and cornfields that need to hear news from Wendlyn. If they learn that their long lost queen was seenand
was victoriousin a battle against their tyrant ruler, then they will begin to hope. And if they begin to hope, theyll
begin to think, to plan, and then, with any luck, rebel.

Maeve looked at Goldryn. They will fight for you if they know that you have already secured one victory against their
enslaver. They need a figurehead, an icon as you called it, and you will be in the same position that you were in
during the Battle of Peregrinno.

I dont want it, Celaena burst out, unable to remove the sudden despair and panic she felt from her tone. I dont
want to be in charge and responsible for other peoples lives! I dont want to have to worry about the weight and
value of one mans life over another. I dont want to think about their families and their friends and everyone else who
will be impacted when they die as a result of my decisions. I dont want that power, I dont want to be a hero, and I
certainly do not want to start a massive war with Adarlan!

When that bridge comes before your path, you can choose to cross it or not, but as of right now Id rather hear about
why you do not like to have power over peoples lives. I thought thats what most mortals wantand as an assassin,
isnt it bizarre for you to be bothered by such a thing?

I killed men and women who deserved to be killed, but not peasants, not people who believe in good ideals.

Maeves silence told her to continue. I felt such pressuresuch a weight when I was standing on those battlements. I
couldnt help but think about each townspersons family, their friends. All I could see were ripple effects and sorrow.
All that I really wanted, throughout the entire course of the battle, was for someone else to have the nerve to take
over for me, for someone else to take charge of things. There were a few menlike I told youwho helped me, but it
wasnt what I wanted. They looked up to me just as the people of Peregrinno looked up to me. I needed someone who
knew me for me, and not for a shining figure in armor, someone who would give me advice, or would throw me into
ranks with the common soldier and lead Peregrinno themselves. I was so emotionally exhausted and frightenedthe
only way that I could manage to tell anyone to do anything was to pretend like they didnt really exist, like their lives
werent that important.
If thats the cost of being a leaderof being a QueenI dont want it. I dont want to become immune to the value
and equality that I believe is inherent in everyone. I dont want to begin believing that Ive got more of a right to live
than someone elseor that one mans life is worth more than someone elses because of the political or economic
advantage that he can give me if I put him further back in the ranks of my army, cloaking his cowardice with a grand
title.

Why do I have the right to decide who lives and who doesnt? Why do I have the right to send men and women off to
distant countries to be slaughtered and then shipped back home like baggage? Why do I have a right to send those
people to attack other people in my enemys country? In the end, no matter who wins or loses, it seems that
everyone loses someone: a friend, a family member, a co-worker, or a lover. War and power just make people
miserable.

The words suddenly kept on flowing out of her mouth, bursting from a dam of fierce passion and conviction that she
didnt know she possessed.

If I could, Id do away with it all. Id eradicate all the country borders and declare us one nation, one world, with no
leader but those in our local communities, who were just there to make sure that crimes like murder and thievery
didnt get out of hand. Wed all share the wealth, and wed all appreciate the levels of our society. The rich man would
appreciate the farmers hard labor that put his food on the table, and in return, the rich man would see to it that
during the winter, the farmer and his family didnt starve. The middle classes and the merchants, moving between
societal circles, would spread culture and the arts, and while it would be pleasant to eliminate all social classes, I
know its impossible, so the rich and the noble would not be so close-minded and impossible to break into. Meaning: if
a farmer wanted to move up into a first-class circle, he could, after years of hard work. There would be schools
available to everyone and anyone, and specialized schools for those with keen interest and talents in certain areas.

Her eyes had gone bright, and she had forgotten that Maeve was there. Musicians could study music and earn a
living for it, dancers could dance until their feet broke, and writers could write all day, every day, until their hands
bled. We would appreciate their talent and studying as much as wed appreciate the farmers work and produce, as
much as wed appreciate the rich mans generosity, and the merchants spreading of culture.

I know its an impossible ideal, but I think that if enough people are as miserable as I think they are, perhaps it can
be achieved. Class structure may always exist, but we can at least learn how to improve it and deal with it.

Celaena laughed to herself at how off-topic she had gotten. Im afraid Ive sort of lost my point about why I would
hate to be a leader.

Maeve smiled, her eyes glittering. But I think you may have just tumbled across why you should be one.

Celaena laughed again, embarrassed.

How would you ensure that the farmers were productive? Theyre the backbone of any country, so their system
would have to come before anything else, Maeve asked.

Celaena bit her lip and thought about what Luca had told her about his work as a field hand.

Wed start offwe, meaning the governmentby ensuring that each farmer, depending on the size of his staff and
family, had enough land to have two or three or four fields. One year, hed use one or two fields to plant and reap his
harvest, and the next year hed leave those to replenish themselves while he plowed and harvested in the alternate
two fields. It would increase the lifespan of the rich soil, and would reduce the risk of a crop dying. But aside from
ensuring that farmers had the land they neededwith no strings or attachments from our side, wed just give and not
expect anything back in return except for their crops to be plentifulI think that the government should stay out of
their lives and business. I think that we should remain as we were meant to be: there to help people, not restrict
them. If a person was sick and had no money for a healer, we would pay for it, with no questions and with no
suspicion and with no paperwork. If someone was starving on the street, or if children were being born and raised in
poverty that resulted in a life of crime, wed be there to stop the problem where it starts. Wed create jobs, not
slavery, for the poor, and help them to get on their feet again.

But I think that all of this would just be so much easierand government wouldnt really be necessaryif people
would just care about things outside of their social and family circles. If someone would care about the labor of a
farmer or of the long, tiring journeys of the merchant, then wed have some appreciation for the way that they
support our lives, and then we wouldnt have things like slavery and poverty and maybe even crime. If people
understood and valued peoples lives because they understood that everyone takes part in a big chain of life that
holds everything together, whether it be economic or emotional, maybe we wouldnt have murderers or pedophiles or
even the rich.

She considered the last part of her statement, and paused. I dont even know if Id like to have rich people in my
ideal world. People tend to think that because they have money, theyre above things. Because theyve got fine fabrics
and jewels, they dont have to care or think about where their food comes from or how many nights sleep the dress
maker lost while trying to create their ruffled clothing in a strict deadline.

Maybe theres some innate drive or way of naturea survival of the fittestthat makes it necessary for social lines to
exist, for the rich to exist, but I have to believe that there must be some better way for wealthy people to exist within
society.

She suddenly felt exhausted, and everything that had just come out of her mouth hadnt really set in yet. She knew
that those were the things she believed, but she didnt really know how to make them happen, and just thinking
about ways to institute that kind of a major social change made her head spin.

Maeve also seemed to notice this, and so she stood up from her rock and helped Celaena down from her branch. You
should go practice with Raonn. I think hell be sulking in some training room or another, but Ill send Bulb with you to
find him. She let out a low whistle and the bubble of light appeared, chittering and giggling. Maeve whispered some
words to it, and it went whizzing around Celaenas head before it flew off into the woods.

She made to follow it, but Maeve stopped her. Take Goldryn. Raonn may despise you for using it, but hes the only
person who can teach you how to properly use it. While you may wish for a world without war, you should remember
that we are probably on the brink of the largest war the world has ever seena world war, if youd like to call it that.
It will be a war in which heroes are made and slain, a world in which Goldryn, sword of Athril, sword of Aelin the
Great, will be much needed.

Celaena considered the prospect of a world war, shuddered, and picked up the ancient sword, muttering her goodbye
to Maeve as she followed after Bulb.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothiens sore arms could barely hold the reins of her mighty horse as she and Raonn left Doranelle.
Though she had cleaned off the sweat and dirt accumulated in her session with Raonn, she still felt unattractive
especially while riding past the glowing, flawless faces of the Fae. Goldryn had been left in Maeves library, and
Celaena secretly hoped that the sword would somehow become misplaced in the next few days. She hadnt
remembered the sword being so cumbersome during the battle, but, then again, the way that Raonn had instructed
her to use it was far from what she had been used to. In their vigorous training hour, the only thing that had fueled
Celaena to keep going was the bitter determination to prove to the seething Fae Prince that she could handle a
weapon far above her worth or talent.

His continuous cold silence was verification of the fact that she had succeeded in proving something to him, though
she would never know whether it was that she was just as stubborn as he was, or that she could actually wield the
sword with some skill.

Celaena looked at the tattooed face of the Fae Lord and wondered why Maeve hadnt deemed him worthy of the sword
from the way he had instructed her, it seemed as if he knew more about the sword (and Fae weapons) than she
would ever know. He hadnt dared to touch the weapon during the time that they had worked together, but the
assassin had noted the frequency with which he gazed at it: sometimes in awe, sometimes in loathing, and sometimes
with a desperation and loneliness that Celaena didnt understand. Though they saw each other on a regular basis, and
worked together with mild civility, Celaena knew relatively little about his past. She didnt know why, for instance, he
hated humans so much, or why he had been given those tattoos, or even why the falcon was his animal form. He was
a relative of Maeves, but who were his parents and where were they?

Celaena gazed at the forest around her, and at the nameless gray horse beneath her, and realized with growing
embarrassment how little she knew about many things. How could she be a good ruler if she didnt even know where
exactly she was on the map? How could she successfully function if she was so self-centered that she didnt even
bother to ask about names or personal histories? The more and more she thought about it, the more frightened and
small she felt.

There were things going on that she didnt understandties and oaths and situations that she didnt know existed:
was she in control, or were others deciding her fate for her? Maeve seemed to have plans for her that she still hadnt
bothered to fully explain; and Tiryn certainly seemed to have an agenda of his own. Were she and Dorian DeHavilliard
just puppets, useless without their masters, or were they just blind to the truths before them?

Celaena Sardothien recalled the numerous things she had to do, and felt sickhow was she going to balance so many
things at once? Tired and grumpy, she was overwhelmed by the tasks at hand. How had she managed to get herself
into this kind of a bind? She turned her eyes towards Raonn: he was silent and sullen, as usual. Celaena took a deep
breath: she could easily work things out.

What was the first thing she had to do?

Certainly not deal with this assassination situation.

Though maybe if she got that out of the way

No, Id have to leave the country as soon as possiblethat way I wouldnt have time to stick around to

Luca. Lucas tournament was approaching with rapid speed. That was a relatively simple taskexcept for the fact they
didnt even have their own armor. Where were they going to get itand how were they going to afford it? She bit her
lip out of worry: there were actually many crucial aspects of Lucas tournament that she had completely forgotten
about or ignored completely: like jousting against a real person, not a dummy, however magickally stimulated it was.
Luca had never had any real combat, except for the swordplay that she had taught him whenever he was too tired to
mount his horse. How different was real jousting from what they had been doing? She barely had any idea how to
instruct him to begin withhad she been doing it incorrectly this whole time?

There was only one person that could help herand, though it might pain both of them for her to ask, it was the sole
possibility before her.

Raonn, she said awkwardly, looking straight ahead, what do you know about jousting?

He turned his silver head towards her, his eyebrows raised. If you expect me to help with this ridiculous project
youre conducting in the woods, you can save your breath and begin looking for someone else.

She was struck by his cruelty, but not that surprised. It had been foolish of her to expect that while she was willing to
toss aside their personal differences, he might not be so ready. Disappointment and frustration flooded her, but she
was in no mood to beg. Celaena lowered her eyes to her saddle, her neck aching in pain as her chin drooped towards
her chest in resignation.

She hated people like himshe hated this entire world. If she couldnt do one simple thing, something so foolish and
unworthy of time and money as a jousting tournament, then what did that mean about her? In a single moment
composed of exhaustion and sore muscles, Celaenas ego was humbled: for all her arrogance and skills as an
assassin, she understood and could do barely anything.

Closing her eyes, she took the reins in one hand and cupped her forehead in the other, trying to gain control of her
deflated confidence and her reeling mind.

Raonn, still watching the young queen, was puzzled by her recent string of movements. He had sensed when she had
begun to suffer from anxiety, and his response to her question had been solely out of spite and irritation, but her
reaction to his words had temporarily knocked his anger out of him.

Raonn thought relatively little about anyone but himself and Maeve, and the fact that this woman now had possession
of a priceless artifact irked him to no end, but he could not deny that what Aelin Galathynius was going through would
be too much for many people to handle. He observed her hair, and the smooth ivory color of her skin, and the three
ridges that had appeared between her arched brows, and was suddenly moved towards pity. She was someone who
hadnt yet come to terms with who she was, or what her life was really like, but still someone that people looked up to
and followed. Most people saw her good looks and grace as symbols for whatever lay within her, and her proud nature
did not bother to inform them that they were, indeed, incorrect.

It is a difficult thing, observed Raonn, to live knowing that what people see is so different from realityto live,
knowing that the truth will often cost you what the illusion has gained. Its hard to experience that as a person with
little influence on the world, but when youre misinterpreted by millions of different people in millions of different
ways, its too much to bear.
He quickly turned away as Aelin straightened up, suddenly recomposed.

If she really is destined to rule a fairly large portion of the world, he thought, then perhaps it is folly to place her in a
situation that will only cause her more stress and confusion: perhaps, in doing so, I might trigger a kind of reaction
that will result in a situation similar to what happened fourteen years ago.Is my momentary satisfaction worth
generations of suffering?

Raonn reached upwards and grabbed the reins from her hand, suddenly changing their westward direction towards
the North.

Where are we going? she asked dully, raising her eyebrows in expected sarcasm and combat.

To pel, the largest town in the area aside from the Capital. If it is jousting that you desire to learn, then this town is
the one place in the world that you can fully understand what occurs in a match: it is the location of the first
tournament, and every trophy-winning knight was schooled here. Its where your farmboy will also be competing in a
week or two.

There was shock and then warmth in her eyes, and Celaena nodded her understanding as they continued onwards.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The town of pel was dirty and loud, and filled with people. The smell and sounds of metal hung thick in the air, and
there was an animosity to the town that put Celaena and Raonn at unease. They had both covered their heads with
their cloaks, though the sight of two such finely attired travelers still drew a fair amount of attention to them. Raonn
led her through the town, keeping his head down, heading towards the sounds of cheering and metal meeting wood.

Before them rose a large stone and wood arena, its stands filled with onlookers, each on their feet, screaming their
support and profanities. Celaena watched this all with growing dread, especially as Raonn approached a fence outside
of the area, around which several onlookers were observing the match. This is what theyd be doing.

Raonn helped Celaena dismount, and he tethered the horse to a nearby post as Celaena stalked towards the viewing
area.

The scene she saw was a disaster: dirt and wood were all over the arena floor, and two massive war steeds charged
at each other with terrifying speed, propelling the giant figures of their riders towards an encounter that could only
wind up in destruction. The armor that they wore was unlike anything Luca wore, and it looked heavy enough to crush
his slight form.

Celaena threw back her hood as the two knights slammed their lances at each other, one hitting the breast and the
victims shot going wide, their upper bodies bending back like trees swaying in a great storm. Splinters flew, and the
horses slowed to a stop, the world retreating into a normal timeframe. The crowd screamed in response, and their
adrenaline pumping at the prospect of bloodletting.

Such a violent sport seemed so foreign in such a beautiful and peaceful land: it belonged in the dark parts of Adarlan
or in the ancient barbarian world of the far West.

Did Luca have any idea what this was like? Celaena watched the victorious knight trot by, a giant on his demonic
horse. He waved his metal-shod hand at the stands, and cheers of support followed.

Celaena leaned against the fence, craning her neck to see the knight. Raonn, she said softly, keeping her eyes on
shining figure, how long do these knights train for before trying something like this?

Years, lifetimes, I dont know. Its not something you can learn in a few months.

And how much do these suits of armor cost?

I would guess a lot more than any of you have to spare.

And, from the looks of it, I can safely say that the Fae do not possess any armor or knowledge in this sort of sport?
We dont participate or enjoy this kind of savagery.

Celaena looked towards him, frowning. He has no idea what hes getting himself into, does he?

Raonn shook his concealed head. Celaena looked around at the people gathered: they were all poor and probably
uneducatedthey were a part of a crowd that reaped benefits upon victors and tortured those unfortunate enough to
lose. Celaena turned her head away as a few of the men around them took notice of the two strangely-attired figures
watching the tournament. It was sometimes difficult to remember how clothing and appearance could be such barriers
and markers of difference.

Celaena watched another match take place, and dread found a permanent home within her stomach. It didnt help
that the men around them were taking a very keen interest in them, and Celaena glanced back to make sure that her
horse was still tied to its post. She didnt understand why this town made her feel so uncomfortable, maybe it was too
similar to the gritty towns of Adarlanmaybe the smell of blood and metal brought her back to a place and a time she
had begun to forget.

As the men got closer, Celaenas body tensed. She could smell the alcohol reeking from their bodies, and knew that
the hesitation they would feel towards assaulting a member of the upper classes was now at a severely low level. But
Raonn acted before she could, though in a manner that she wouldnt have expected. He simply removed his hood, his
eyes still on jousters, revealing his pointed ears and extraordinary features. Raonn then slowly turned his head
towards them, his lips pulling back to reveal the few sharp teeth in his mouth, his face contorting in a feral growl.

The men immediately backed off, recoiling like snakes, the sight of one of the Fae was something too dangerous for
even a drunkard to forget. For the remainder of their time in the town, no matter how many people stared, Raonn
kept his hood off, his face impassive and cold.

By the time they had returned to the chateau, it was nearing dinner, the sun smeared across the sky as it faded into
night. Raonn bid her goodbye in a curt manner, and, had she not been too busy trying to figure out how she was ever
going to prepare Luca for the tournament, Celaena would have given him a much warmer thank-you than he received.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 18

Celaena Sardothien looked at Leighanna and Stephaenya, her brows raised in expectation. A platter of assorted
cheeses and spring fruits lay between them on the kitchen table, and Celaena helped herself to a few slices of
everything while waiting for their response.

Stephaenya spoke first. I dont think you understand how much a suit of armor costs. Even if we were to give you
some amount of money, how would that come close to the selling price?

I went into town today and asked the blacksmith, Celaena replied, and he told me that he could make Luca a
decent suit of armor for fifty gold pieces.

For a dishwasher, you certainly have a lot of time on your hands, Leighanna said, a crooked smile on her face. Is
that where you go off to for hours at a time? Into town?

Havent you heard? Stephaenya asked the old woman, her doe eyes twinkling. Elentulyai spends her spare time
gallivanting around the woods with the Fae! Luca even believes that a Fae prince is courting her! The young woman
turned towards Celaena, Dont believe that we havent noticed your disappearances and the frequent presence of a
silver falcon and a grey horsewere not as simple as you might believe us to be. She smiled at the assassin, and
Celaena did her best not to laugh.

Gallivanting about the forest? Me? Ive never heard anything so ridiculous! Celaena grinned.

The two other women stared at her, their eyes wide, urging her to give further explanation.

Celaena took another slice of cheesesharp, dry, and filled with a spice that made her nose twitchand cleared her
throat. Yes, I spend my time with the Fae, but its certainly not frolicking around the forest. She didnt really know
what lie or truth to tell them, especially if any of them would sound plausible. Celaena shrugged her shoulders. Ive
got a few ties to the Fae of this area, and I guess you could say that Im trying to make my peace with them.
Leighanna nodded, but Stephaenya still looked confused. Unless the Fae want something to do with you, you
wouldnt be welcome in their part of the forest.

Celaena flipped a lock of her golden hair across her shoulder and cocked her head to the side in sarcasm. Well,
perhaps my story isnt as simple as it seems, she said, smiling at the young woman, who returned it with a small
laugh. Celaena fiddled with the ring on her finger. But it will have to wait to be embellished until further notice. I
need to know how much you each would be willing to give meLuca gave me all he had Celaena emptied the
contents of the brown leather pouch she had placed beside her on the bench, and counted the coins on the table.
Which comes toeleven gold coins, and seven silver ones.

The women were silent, and Leighanna stood up to leave the room. Celaena smiled at Stephaenya, but the girl
remained silent, her eyes upon the money on the table. She seemed deep in contemplation, and the assassin sat in
awkward silence as she waited for the old womans return, picking at the fruit and cheese.

Leighanna returned a moment later, a small purse held in her hand. From the way the purple sides sagged inwards,
Celaena could tell that there wasnt much inside. Nevertheless, the woman produced five gold coins and two silver
ones, leaving a few others in her purse to jangle around.

Ive been saving up some money on my own for years, but I figure that my time will come soon, and theres no need
for this money if Im dead. It will be used better on the future than on a decaying body.

Touched and slightly disturbed, Celaena took keen notice of the deep wrinkles and lines on her tanned, sun-worn face.
It didnt really occur to her that Leighanna might once have actually looked, wellyoung.

Thank you, Celaena said, resisting her growing urge to make sure her face was still smooth and unmarred. Balling
her hands into fists, she turned to Stephaenya, hoping to find the same reaction.

The young womans gaze was still on the pile of money, her face partially shielded by her thin curtain of brown hair.

Stephaenya? Celaena asked, leaning forward across the table. Was something wrong? Had she insulted her earlier?

What I still dont understand, and what I am still attempting to figure out, the girl said in a low voice, is why you
are so involved in this situation. There was a sudden hostility to her voice that surprised Celaena and Leighanna, and
the old woman interjected.

Where did that come from?

I dont believe that Elentulyai has bad intentionsshe merely wants to help.

Help? Help with what? Stephaenyas eyes were dark and cold. What kind of help do you think shell have given him
when hes humiliated in front of the entire province? What is some competition going to accomplish, save for a few
broken bones and bruises? Hell be mocked even more than he was before this stupid thing, and hell give the Barons
boys another reason to taunt and torture him! You might have good intentions, but the consequences of whatever
youre trying to prove through Luca, through my Luca, are too much! Her voice was now shrill, her nose crinkling up
in anger.

Celaena didnt really know how to replyit was all entirely possible, and she hadnt even considered it until this
moment.

He might win, for all we know, Celaena tried, her shoulders rising up in a feeble smile.

What an awkward situation! Ah! Ah!

She didnt like having someone yell at her, especially when that person was years younger than she was, and had
attacked unprovoked.

Win? Win? With what? Cheap armor and a months worth of training? Stephaenya was as mad as she had been
those many nights ago when she had initially learned about Luca entering the tournament. Celaena moved her hands
to her lap and picked at a hangnail on her thumb, ripping off the rough skin in painful installments.
Who do you think you are? Stephaenya was still ranting. You, who come here, to our home with stories of pirate
kings and Fae princes and the demons of Adarlan! Do you think that you can change the world by conning a bastard
farm boy into believing he can be a knight with a few weeks training? Have you ever considered the repercussions of
what this will mean for him? Once this competition is over, no matter how he places, you will move on and forget
about the experience. But Luca will remember it for the rest of his life! If he hasnt been beaten down enough already,
this will break him for good! I told him, I told him not to enter, and look at whats happened!

How absurd! How annoying! But at least shes taken a breath.

Celaena now felt an urge to justify herself. My personal history has nothing to do with this situation, she began, but
Stephaenya cut her off.

It has everything to do with it! We are reaching an age when we have to decide to give up the dreams and heroes of
our childhood and accept the hand that life has dealt us! But you came along, and you knew and embodied everything
we had spent so many years dreaming and whispering about!

Spare me!

A dishwasher? Celaena snarled sarcastically.

Stephaenya got to her feet, throwing her arms in the air. You met Sardothien and you met Maurgon and you know
the Crown Prince of Adarlan and you came in here and took care of Cindrillion and got her to improve, and you survive
a battle of epic proportions! You have everything that we will never have! You are beautiful and smart and graceful
and when you walk into a room, people seem to listen to you! You have all those things, and because of them, you
made Luca retreat back into this state of dreams and shadows!

Maybe shes right.

Frantically picking at her thumb, Celaena looked at the near-hysterical young woman with lowered brows, her cheeks
flushing in the firelight. I did what anyone could do in a

No! Do I look I can do that? She grabbed a hold of her chestnut hair with one hand and used the other to motion to
her frail body. Look at me! Do you think I can train him for some stupid competition? What can I give him except the
reality of his situation? Luca cares for me, Im sure of that, but he worships you. To him, Im all of the things in his life
that he likes and finds enjoyment in: simple, plain things with an occasional glimmer of beauty and joy. But you
youre all the things hes wanted his whole life!

I dont want to hear another damned word about being a dishwasher! We all know that you arent one, nor do you
intend to be one for much longer! Youre probably some princess from Adarlan and this is probably some petty
experiment for some philanthropist project of yours! But I dont care about that! I care that youve come here without
any regard for the long-term consequences of your actions!

Celaenas jaw had slacked, and she was staring at the woman with open disbelief. How long had it been since
someone had yelled at her like this?

Stephaenya put her hands on her hips, and took a steadying breath. I know what whatever I say will have no impact
on you or that fool, but I certainly will not financially contribute to the disaster that is about to happen.

And, with that, the young woman squared her shoulders and stormed from the kitchen, leaving the cook and the
assassin in stunned silence.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien left the blacksmith, having placed a down payment of the twenty gold pieces she had managed to
collect the day before (dipping into her own precious funds to contribute four gold coins) and handing in Lucas
measurements. The armor would be ready approximately three days before the tournament, barely enough time for
Luca to make adjustments and become accustomed to it.

The ground was muddy from the previous nights rain, the air smelling of hay and tomatoes, and the hustle-and-
bustle of the town made Celaena s step a little livelier despite the feeling of impending doom looming around her
head. They still needed thirty gold pieces.
She had been considering what Stephaenya had said, and had been musing over whether or not the woman was part
psychicshe seemed to know a lot of things about her that werent exactly on-target, but were pretty close to the
truth. Was she that easy to read? As Adarlans assassin, she had always been known for her disguises, but apparently
she hadnt been doing much of a note-worthy job in Wendlyn. Then again, she had always played a role quite familiar
to her: royalty. Maybe she wasnt that good at acting after all. Celaena looked at her reflection in a passing window
and lifted her chin a bit higher. Or maybe she just wasnt suited to be a peasant.

Celaena walked down the main street of the small town, gazing in the windows at the dresses and goods displayed.
How the fashion had changed across an ocean! Again, she noticed their style and design. These werent dresses to
confine, but rather to flatter and be worn comfortably!

If I ever become queen, Ill instate a law that bans corsets, uncomfortable shoes, and dresses with more than one
petticoat.

As she walked down the narrow street, a milky glint in another large window, and Celaena stopped in front of a
jewelry shop to admire a necklace made of natural pearls. They slightly pinkish in color, as long as her pinky and
slightly square in shape, displayed amongst other items of all hues and metals. It glowed in the midmorning light, and
Celaenas eyes grew wide imagining it around her throat.

It must be worth at least.

Celaena looked at the price tag, and her lips pulled back in a wince.

Two-hundred gold pieces! For what? Who would buy that around here?

If she had that much money, she could

Celaena looked down at the ring on her hand. How much was this worth? Two pearls and a ruby

Frowning, she moved on, suddenly not paying as much attention to the stores. There were many things she had to do
in Wendlyn that would require money; and, frankly, she didnt have close to enough to do them and still have enough
to return to Adarlan. She needed gold.

The more store windows she passed, the more Celaena became acutely aware of her financial situation. She had
never really been pooreven when she had first started out on her own as an assassin, she had had an abundance of
money to spend thanks to Arobynn Hamel and his well-paying clients. It was awkward for her to think of ways to get
money, and Celaena didnt really know the first thing about budgeting and finance.

In fact, all she really knew was how to buy things. Arobynn had managed most of her accounts and had seen to it that
her money was placed in the bank (after he had taken his due share, of course). Celaena quickened her steps as her
face began to glow pink, and she looked down at Dorians ring once more before turning abruptly into a shop.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard sat with the Captain of the Guard on an isolated and moss-speckled bench in one of the South
Gardens of the palace, enjoying the first warm day of spring. It had rained the night before, and there was a pleasant,
cleansing freshness to everything. The pregnant trees were showing the first signs of their young: lime green buds
that were so bright that they looked like candy. Thick, rounded clouds were carried across a turquoise sky on a fast
wind, on whose tail the icy touch of the Lord of Winter could still be felt.

The Crown Prince of Adarlan dug his heels into the pebbled path, looking at the old, weathered fountain that lay
before them. This was one of his favorite spots in the palace compound: tranquil, worn, and solitary. This was one of
the few places in which his mother never bothered to come with her menagerie of courtiersit was too far and the
garden furniture was far too shabby for clean bottoms to rest upon.

He wondered where Celaena was at the moment, if her day was as beautiful as his, and what kind of trouble she was
getting herself into. He remembered her golden dress from their last dream, and the way her hair had shone beneath
the circlet of blue coral beads and pearls. A smile appeared on his face as Dorian thought of how quickly it had come
off. Her skin was so soft and warm, and there was a smell on her body that had been so intoxicating that he hadnt
been able to take his mouth away from her. Had it actually happened? Or had it all been in his head? He had awoken
the next morning feeling satisfied and content, but that could have been due to the onset of spring after a trying
winter.

So you intend for me to actually go to the home of a notorious criminal and live with him for an extended period of
time? Chaol asked, drawing Dorians attention away from the glowing and throbbing pleasures of a few nights ago.

Just trust me, Dorian said casually, leaning back against the tree behind them. Besides, you wont be staying with
Arobynn Hamelyoull actually be living in what I believe was Sardothiens old apartment. Its quite well-furnished, I
hear.

For all the money she received in her prime, I would hope so.

Dorian snorted, and watched the cream-puff clouds.

So, Chaol continued in a quieter voice, this magick thing of yoursit enables you totalk to Sardothien in your
dreams?

Im pretty sure, Dorian replied. I mean, what else could it be? It feels too realistic to be the product of my mind,
and I dont seem to have control over things in that glen the way one normally does in a dream.

So youre basically going into her dream-world? Or does Sardothien have magick as well and thats how you two
communicate? Some kind of magickal encounter between two all-powerful beings? Chaol asked with a joking grin
that made Dorians heart race. How was he going to explain about Celaenas magick? Chaol wouldnt take it wellnot
well at all. The Captain of the Guard had trouble enough with her as Adarlans assassin, but as Adarlans assassin plus
magickal abilities

Chaol would dig himself a grave and jump into it.

I dont know, Dorian replied quickly, I dont think she has any magick at allmaybe I do just go inside her head.
What a terrible lie.

You understand that this whole situation you have planned out for me is one based entirely on a dream. I either have
to believe this dream version of Sardothien, or believe that youre some kind of prophetor a madman.

The friends exchanged a smile. When can you be ready to leave? Dorian asked.

I have to ask your fathers permission firstand find an adequate substitute for me while Im gone. Chaol shook his
head, his brown hair bronzing in the sunlight. Dorian, youre asking me to lie to my king and employer, and to put
your own safety at risk.

But its the same king who would have you hanged to punish one woman for her crimes.

And that king is your father.

Which makes it all the worse, but all the easier. Tell him that your brother is very ill from a snakebite, and that you
must rush home to be with him in case the worst should happen.

Thats absurd. That would never happen to Paonianthere are no poisonous snakes in our province, and he hates
going anywhere where he cant be reached by his politicians and messengers.

But isnt he interested in all sorts of bizarre things?

The young men laughed.

I remember, Dorian said between heaves of laughter, one of the times that we visited your estate, he brought us
into his room to see his collection of strange artifacts and animalshe was so proud! Forgive me Chaol, but it was so
awkwardyou and I had no idea how to react to half of those stupid things. Take that damned bird, for instance: he
must have spent half an hour trying to get it to talk to him, and he took our barely-concealed laughter for interest!
Just tell my father that the stupid animal pecked off something vital and that he needs to be surrounded by the love
and support of his family.
They laughed for a little while more, and came to an agreement on Chaols lie before they were unpleasantly
interrupted in the worst sort of way.

Dorian! his mother huffed and puffed as she came down the gravel path like a drunken work animal, Dorian, I have
been looking all over for you! I have someone you simply must meet!

How had she found them? Was he safe nowhere? If she had come this far on her own, she must really want
something.

Dorian and Chaol exhaled long breaths through their noses and rose to their feet to give the Queen of Adarlan her due
respect. She pinched both their cheeks, her smile crackling some of the paint on her face, and she turned her wide
frame to reveal a young woman behind her.

May I introduce to you the Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon, from the province of Belaegyr.

The Queen smiled broadly and gently pushed the young woman towards the Crown Prince.

So thats why shes here.

Dorian did his best not to roll his eyes, but he couldnt help noticing the womans attributes. She was almost absurdly
big height-wise for a woman: she was just as tall as he was! And while she wore some amount of make-up, it was not
nearly as dramatic and noticeable as a lot of other courtiersher eyes are dark and foreign, and her curly brown hair
flowed down in wiry spirals. Her, skin, tanned and smooth, was unmarked, and there was something pleasing in her
face.

This is my son, the Crown Prince Dorian DeHavilliard, as Im sure you can tell, Nicolle, the Queen gushed, batting
her fake eyelashes at the young woman.

The resemblance is uncanny, your highness, Nicolle said, and Dorian blinked at her well-concealed sarcasm as the
Queen laughed shrilly and puffed up like a bird about to go into hibernation.

Why, Nicolle continued, it seems that Prince Dorian has inherited all of your famed beauty.

Her voice was neither low nor high, but rather in that middle range that was easily forgettable and could easily put
one to sleep. But she had a certain contempt and recognition of his mothers ridiculous behavior that made the Crown
Prince think twice before dismissing her. Was she smart or just a bitch? Or both?

And this, his mother continued, is the Captain of the Guard, Lord Chaol Wydrael. Dorian watched the introduction
between Nicolle and his friend, unable to stop himself from comparing her to Celaena.

They were pretty much complete opposites. One dark, the other light. Nicolle was nearly a giant, and Celaena seemed
to be just above average height. Celaenas hair contained two or three smooth, large waves towards the bottom; and
this woman had curls and in abundance.

But there was something lacking in Nicolle that he found in Celaena: a kind of intelligence and burning fire deep within
the eyes. While the black eyes of this courtier seemed to absorb light, Celaenas projected it. Dorian remembered the
gold flecks that sparkled in his beloveds eyes when the sun hit them just the right way. Universes and other worlds
spun in those sapphire spheres.

Nicolle turned her gaze to look at him, and the Crown Prince smiled weakly. Yes, Nicolle was more attractive than
most of the courtiers; and, yes, her breasts were slightly larger, and her body more slender, but this woman was no
Celaena Sardothien.

Now, Dorian, his mother said, if Im not mistaken, wasnt your dear friend Lithaen Gordaina from Belaegyr?
Perhaps Nicolle knows her! Wouldnt that be a lovely coincidence?

Dorian and Chaol exchanged worried glances, and then looked at Nicolle. Im afraid Ive never heard the name
before, she apologized, but there are many wealthy families in Belaegyr, and my parents have kept me fairly
isolated my entire life.
The Lady Lithaen left a long time ago, mother, Dorian drawled, She sailed across the sea to marry a Lord of
Wendlyn.

His mothers drawn eyebrows raised in shock and horror. Marry? In that barbaric place! Dorian, Im offended: how
could you have let such a beautiful woman sail to such a savage country! Your father should reprimand you for this!

Yes, its a pity, he said absent-mindedly. Suddenly having his fill of his mother, Dorian bowed his farewells and
jerked his head towards Chaol. He knew what his mother was trying to do, and he simply didnt have time for it. As
they walked quickly down the path, his mother called after him: Dorian, dear, do call for a litterI shall faint if I have
to walk another step!

The Crown Prince snarled, and Chaol laughed. Shes only trying to do her motherly duty.

Shes a waste of breath and material.

Shes your mother.

And, like my father, that doesnt really seem to count for much, does it? Dorian frowned. I pity her thoughfor
marrying my father. Do you know that I once actually believed that they had married for love?

Its possiblepower has strange effects on people, Dorian.

Dorian shrugged his shoulders, and, Chaol, upon seeing a servant, ordered a litter. Nicolle DeLemanscon could use
her own two feet.

So, thats what happened to Lithaen Gordaina? She married a lord of Wendlyn? Chaol smiled, What are you going
to tell your mother when she gets back?

Dorian cursed. Ill just tell her that the marriage was annulledthe country was too savage for such a fine lady.
They shared a smirk, and entered the glass doors of the palace.

I wonder how the assault on Wendlyn treated our fine lady, Chaol mused. Well be finding out any day now.

Dorian bit his lip.

Or has, Chaol checked himself and lowered his voice. Or has Lithaen already told you the results?

We didnt speak of it, Dorian lied again.

How can you not have? Unless shes totally isolated from the world, which shes not supposed to be, she should have
known! Dorian, youre not giving me much reason to follow through with this traveling thing.

I Dorian began, but then stopped. He couldnt tell Chaol what he knew, because if he did, hed have to tell him
everything. But there was someone he had to telland the sooner the better. Just trust me, he concluded and
turned up a marble set of stairs.

Begin packing to go home, he said softly amongst the hustle and bustle of the palace. After coming in from the
bright sunshine, the palace seemed like a cave. He blinked several times, trying to adjust himself to the sudden
darkness.

The sooner you leave the better. Ill write a letter to Arobynn at once. From this moment on, youve just received
news about your brothers unfortunate bite from a wild dog, and youre in an immense hurry to get home.

Where are you going? Chaol asked as they reached the top.

Ive got someone to see right now, Dorian said, the tone in his voice an indicator of who, but I will come by your
room later to help you prepare for your journey. A servant and two guards passed by, nodding at the two young
men. In your letter to your family, Dorian said loudly, send your family my regards and wishes for your brothers
speedy recovery.
He grasped Chaols shoulder. If you havent seen me by dinnertime, just come to my chambers and well eat
together. There is still much we have to talk about.

Chaol nodded, and they turned in opposite directions, one to commit treason and the other to prepare for it. Dorian
walked down many long corridors, lost in thought, and took a deep breath before knocking on the Minister of Trasiens
door.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver, Crown Prince of Wendlyn, tightly embraced his father and then his mother. Their eyes were shining
with tears of relief, and Galan had never been so thankful to see them in his entire life. They were still the same
aging, yet energetic and kind people he always known, and he was so overwhelmed with love and relief that he
hugged them both once more. He had been away from home for so long

He had been halfway to Peregrinno when word had reached him of the victory. He hadnt really known what to do with
his troops, and had told them to go back to whatever base they had come from, but they had insisted that they escort
him back to the capital as his honorary guard. Galan had never really thought much of the armytrue, he had respect
for them, but it wasnt until he had seen their loyalty and bravery that he really began to think about the
consequences of this war. These were his people, and it was his duty to look after them.

It had been enough knowing that Wendlyn was safe once more, but when further word of the victory came, Galan had
almost gotten on his horse and galloped as fast as he could to the seaside town. Aelin Galathynius had been there
Aelin of Trasien led them to victory!

How was it possible? How could she have possibly led anyone when she was barely able to keep herself together?

He looked at his father, and then at his mother, and his blue eyes told them everything. We know, his father said
gently. We heard of Aelin of Trasiens victory at Peregrinno.

I have much to tell you both, he said quickly, his eyes shining. I met herseveral times! It sounded strangeand
he felt slightly foolish, especially at the few seconds of throbbing silence that followed his words.

Galan was about to speak again when his father started forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. Where? When?
There was an urgency in his voice that was upsetting, but the young prince quickly dismissed it.

In the forest, he said excitedly, smiling. I thought she was a peasant, and then a lady, and then we had this fight
and I knew who she was and

His father motioned for him to sit down on the ottoman before his fireplace, and the young prince plopped down, his
knees nearly buckling beneath him. He hadnt realized how exhausted he was until now. It had been hard enough
fighting against Adarlan, but then traveling nonstop for the past few days had been brutal, and then the welcoming
parade in the capital city had been an entire fiasco

Galan rubbed his eyes and unbuckled his sword belt, letting it fall to the fur-covered floor beneath with a heavy thud.

We must send out trackers and messengers in every direction to find her, his father said gently to his wife before
turning to Galan. Do you kn

You cant, Galan interrupted with sudden ferocity, and his parents looked at him with surprise. The young prince
shook his head and took a deep breath. Shes notshes not exactlystable right now. For you to hunt her down and
make a national search out of it would be disastrous. Shed go ballistic and probably swim back to Adarlan if the boat
wasnt available fast enough.

He could not deny the disappointment and fear on his fathers face, and another awkward silence consumed the room.

I, his mother said softly, and Galan turned to her. There was sorrow and resignation in her eyes that Galan didnt
understand. Ill go see to it that we have a private dinner prepared for the three of us. Youd prefer that to a grand
feast, wouldnt you? Her voice rose and she smiled, her forced cheer upsetting him further.

You look exhausted: I wouldnt want to make you sit through toast after toast and try to look presentable to the
public after what youve been through. Yes, well dine in herethat way, you can take a nap, eat, and then go back to
bed again. Ill invite Fanur if you like. His mother smiled broadly at him as he nodded, and then kissed him twice on
both cheeks before departing. Had he said something wrong?

Galan looked at his father.

Your mother was in hysterics about youI almost had to lock her in our chambers to keep her from taking her horse
and charging after you. Tonight, if you have it in you, you must tell us of your own adventure in warthough,
perhaps, for your mothers sake, you could eliminate a few of the gory details. The King of Wendlyn smiled as he
looked at his sons face. Forgive me if I startled you with my enthusiasm for Aelin Galathynius arrival in Wendlyn.
While you know much of her history, there is still much more that you do not know.

Galan nodded. Yes, an explanation was due.

But perhaps you would like a bath and a pair of clean clothes before I tell you this long and sorrowful tale? His
father ran a bony hand down his silver-streaked beard. The day is still young, and, while I may have kingly duties to
attend to, my fatherly ones will have to win out today.

His fathers warmth was intoxicating. For a single breath, he felt as if he would break down crying. What had he done
to deserve such a good man for a father? He thought of the tyrant across the ocean: how had the Prince of Adarlan
fared with such a father? Galan, for the first time in his life, really appreciated the goodness of the people in his life. It
was overwhelming to suddenly know how lucky he truly was.

Galan couldnt stop the grin that appeared on his face. He rose and headed towards his bathing chamber, telling his
father to ask the servant for some lunch and a strong cup of tea.

He spent a fair amount of time in the bathtub, scrubbing away the dirt of travel and whatever remained from the
battle. It was so nice to be cleanor even to have a quiet place to rest for a while. He could have fallen asleep in the
warm water just then, but he was so fueled by his desire to hear more of Aelin that he quickly dressed and re-entered
his sitting room.

A silver tray of fine meats, cheeses, and fruits had been placed on the ottoman before one of his many extremely
large, outrageously comfortable armchairs. His sword belt had been put away, as had his other belongings. His father,
still sitting across from him, beckoned for him to eat. Galan sat down, his stomach getting the better of him, and
drank half of his tea and an entire goblet of water before assaulting the platter. He was never going to leave home
again without two weeks worth of food and drink. He couldnt stop shoveling the food into his mouth. Especially the
berries and grapes. And the spiced cheese. And the tender, salty, succulent, thin-sliced ham

As you know, Aelin Galathynius was the daughter of Evaelien Ashryver and Prince Rhoe Galathynius of Trasien. His
father took a steadying breath and took a piece of ivory cheese, snapping Galan out of his gluttony. Evaelien was my
cousin and closest childhood friendand I loved her dearly.

Galan swallowed a final piece of green apple and leaned back in his chair, his brows rising with interest.

The summer she wassixteen? Seventeen? I cant remember her exact age at the time, but whatever summer it
was, I came to the realization that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. We had never had
any romantic relations, nor did I ever think that someone as beautiful as Evaelien would ever consider a moderately
attractive man such as I, but, nonetheless, I made up my mind to propose to her that fall.

But my plans were scheduled a little too late. You see: that was the summer she spent with the Fae Queen Maeve in
her forest, learning whatever it is that blood-born Ashryver women learn from her. Rhoe Galathynius was there as
well, more handsome and charming and brave than any prince has a right to be. A bit like you, I think, his father
said with a wink, and Galan snorted.

Naturally, despite Evaeliens willfulness and Rhoes occasional arrogance, they fell in love. There was a huge
controversy over itthey were too young, they were too different in terms of their bloodlines, the distance between
Trasien and Wendlyn was too great, you get the idea. Nonetheless, I was heartbroken, and inconsolable for days, but
one night I had a vision that made me snap out of it.

His father covered his eyes with one hand, and his voice was old and full of time.
I saw a child, beautiful and bright, with my own eyes and hair as dark as good, rich soil. I saw the babe grow into a
mischievous and curious youth, strong and proud and intelligent; and then I saw that youth grow into a man. His
posture was erect, his shoulders broad and strong: on his brow sat wisdom, in his eyes shone compassion, and across
his smiling lips lay a love for peace and good-will. He was handsome and everything I had ever hoped to be.

It was in the moment that this shining figure turned and looked upon me that I realized that this was the son I was
destined to have. He was a true king, brought back from the days of old when justice, not gold, ruled the land. But it
was also in that moment when I realized that Evaelien Ashryver would never bear me that son. It was just something
I knew and understood. Knowing this, my pain was eased, and I awoke the next morning with peace in my heart.

His father removed his hand from his face and looked at his son, beaming. Galan didnt know what to say to his
father, and just smiled back, resisting the urge to grab a handful of blackberries.

You dont know what a pride and honor it has been for me to have a son such as you, Galan Ashryver. His voice was
strained, but it was tender. There are dark times ahead of us, and our people will need a man such as you to guide
them through to peace and into a golden age. Glaston Ashryver, King of Wendlyn, stopped and shook his head. But
I am getting off-track.

And so, taking a sip of water, the King of Wendlyn divulged the history of Aelins bloodline and many of the events
that took place the night of her disappearance. Hearing this story of misfortune, Galan fully understood why she was
so afraid of her power, and why she was so hesitant to immerse herself back in the political world. He had been told
the story before, but never in such detailand never with such a sense of urgency.

And you said you found her disguised as a peasant in the woods? His father asked, leaning back in his chair.

Yes, chopping wood. I was trying to find a short cut through the forest and

Galan continued on with the story, telling his father of all their encounters and everything he had found out about her
up until their last meeting.

So you gave her an invitation to the ball?

Galan sighed. Yes, yes. I think we should just call the whole thing off and bring her with us to the lake house in the
mountains for some family bonding.

His father laughed. Youd do anything not to have to go through with it, wouldnt you? He chuckled again. Your
mother has been working around the clock in an attempt to plan this grand celebration of oursand get you married
in the process. Personally, Galan, I could care less if you didnt marry until you were my age.

The King of Wendlyn sighed. But, you are at a point in your life when finding an ideal woman is a quest you have
time to undertake. For now, just appease your mother and go to the ball. Dance with all the eligible young ladies,
drink good wine, eat good food, and then tell her that youve seen some nice girls youd like to talk to again, and
when she asks you for their names, just tell her you forgot and youll get back to her later. Its pretty simple.

Galan laughed and yawned. All the eating had suddenly made him exhausted.

His father smiled warmly. Ill let you go take a nap before dinner, but I just want to know one thing, Galan.

He stood up and raised his eyebrows. Yes?

Is she beautiful?

Galan grinned and ran a hand through his hair. She lives up to her legacy, he said sheepishly.

He was about to reach his bedroom door when he turned around once more to see his father rise shakily to his feet.
Father? he asked, and the aging man rotated to look at him. Here was a man he had looked up to his entire life, and
it dumbfounded Galan that his father would ever consider him to become a greater king than he was. For a moment,
he felt terrified and alone, as if the future before him had suddenly become a bottomless abyss that would swallow
him whole. But as he looked at his father once more, that feeling passed, no more than a shadow. He wouldnt be
alone in this process: he had family and advisors and friends. The wrinkles appearing on his fathers face contorted
into a warm expression.
No, not alone at all.

I justnever mind, Galan said with mild clumsiness and tears in his eyes, Ill see you for dinner.

His father simply smiled and motioned for him to take a much-needed nap. Content and safe, Galan Ashryver, future
King of Wendlyn, collapsed onto his bed and was instantly in deep sleep.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Tiryn, Minister of Trasien, watched with lowered brows as the Crown Prince of Adarlan animatedly related to him the
fate of Peregrinno. He had known for some time that the young man and the assassin had been communicating
through their dreams, but it was almost too much to believe that Celaena Sardothien had told him of her role in the
battle. It would still be a few more days before word reached Adarlan, and the minister was beginning to wonder if his
queens role in this would doom her cousin.

How differently things would have turned out had Aedion sailed to Wendlyn!

As Dorian DeHavilliard finished his story, the minister handed him a glass of wine. How would the news be
articulated? To whom would they accredit the loss? Would a nameher namecome up? Or would it remain an
anonymous victory from the side of Wendlyn?

So long as my father never learns of her participation in this whole ordeal, Im not too worried about her, the young
prince was saying. But its the fact that she might not actually complete what she was sent over there to do that
makes me worried. And then there is the problem of what will happen between her and I after this project is over!
His blue eyes rose to meet the ministers, and the old man smiled.

Do you truly love her? he asked gently, with a bit of dread curling itself up inside his stomach.

Dorian snorted. Of course I do. How could I not love her? Even for all her faults, theres something about her that Im
drawn toI cant pinpoint it. He ran a hand through his ebony hair and smiled foolishly.

Then marry her. If you love her, marry her. Tiryn flinched inwardly as the words came out of his mouth. The
problems that the situation would create, should Aelin take the throne, would be far worse than anything the King of
Adarlan could throw their way.

If it were that easy, I would. Dorian crossed his legs, and the minister looked at the clock. My father would never
allow it, as Im sure you know, and would probably kill her for ensnaring me.

If the houses of Adarlan and Trasien merged, where would the loyalty lie? Tiryn began to tap his foot. The war inside
the household could be greater than the one that was due to be raging across their borders.

The way I see it, Dorian continued, oblivious to the ministers lack of attention, I either have to end things with her
and thus end a crucial part of my existence, or I have to abdicate the throne to Perringtonn and flee with her to some
distant country where we can live in peace.

The ministers posture rose at the mentioning of the Dukes name. Perringtonn? Why do you think Perringtonn would
inherit the throne? The sharpness in his voice gave away his concern.

Dorian shrugged, eying the minister. These days, it seems as if my father would rather he had him as his heir than
mePerringtonn is practically my fathers twin, while Iwell, you know how I am.

The minister took a long sip from his goblet, gathering his thoughts and taking a deep breath before speaking.

Well, young prince, it seems as if youve finally discovered the most difficult part of being a ruler: personal happiness
versus the greater good. Should you choose to give up the throne and flee to some country, marry the woman you
love and raise a few children, you would undoubtedly be happy for the rest of your life. But, at the same time, you
would have put a man on the throne that will continue to exploit and torture your people, and the people of many
different nations.
By retaining your right to the throne and taking the proper steps as king, you could easily alleviate the suffering of
millions, but you would be alone. Yes, once your father has passed, you could easily find Sardothien and marry her,
but that might not be for decades, and you could both easily be past your heir-bearing prime. His thin film of silver
arm hair stood on endthis was his chance.

The Crown Prince lowered his head, and the minister pounced.

That is how it will be if things do not change, your highness, he said, projecting all of his eloquence into his lowered
voice. You and I have tiptoed around this issue for months, and now it is time to face the reality of things.

Yes, it was time for this. This card had to be drawn now.

You will not be with Celaena Sardothien if you continue to allow your father to subjugate and conquer these nations.
Things are very, very wrong in this country and they need to be remedied before they permanently destroy this earth.
I gave you two choices just now, but those are only two choices on one of the several paths you have before you.

Dorian DeHavilliard began to object, his eyes wide with fear and anger, but the minister silenced him with a hand. It
was too late to stop.

I am going to be very frank with you, Dorian DeHavilliard. You have been born to privilege and with that come
certain, specific obligations. You have in your hands the power to change the world for the better, not for greed and
conquestyou have the power to undo the treachery of your father. Not by waiting for him to die, but by taking the
appropriate, calculated steps toward revolution.

Its a terrifying word, isnt it? Revolution. Were I in your place, I would be quivering in my seat. But your continued
interaction and untested trust in me is testament to the fact that you know your fathers ideals and actions to be
wrong.

The words were pouring from his mouth like the golden drink of the gods: sweet, smooth, and potent.

What I propose is that we wait until Sardothien has returned to these shores before acting. For now, do as she says
and place Chaol in hidingand tell Arobynn Hamel that I greatly desire to be in contact with him as soon as possible.

The minister looked at the clock again and stood up, helping the stunned prince get to his feet. He had said it: save
for a two or three, all of his pieces were now on the board. All that would be required were a few major acts, and
then

Tiryn blinked and gained control over his thoughts. He could fantasize later. He saw Dorians concerned expression
and spoke once more.

Your highness, I have a prior engagement that I need to attend, but listen to me: you are not a pawn in this. I have
no agenda, save for the peace and freedom of my people, and I have no desire to harm you or those you hold dear.

He squeezed the young mans shoulder and brought his face close. Remember that, even in your greatest moments
of doubt. The clock struck one, and the minister released the prince.

Do your best to act as normally as possible: look bored and arrogant and lustful. Enough of this moping and these
fits of magickkeep that as quiet as possible or everything will be lost. Be brave and have heart, but also watch your
back, especially if Chaol is leaving you.

The minister walked him through the many doors of his chambers and then gently pushed the Crown Prince into the
hallway with him, locking the front door behind them.

I shall speak with you soonand continue your work on those clues of mine. They might help you figure out a few
things. The minister grinned at him and then patted him farewell on the back, before he descended down a long
flight of stone steps and straight towards Aedion Ashryvers room.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Aedion Ashryver bit into a green apple as he listened to the ministers story of the battle, his golden legs extended out
before him. It all seemed boring and horrible and utterly ordinary for something of this kind: a decoy, then a
massacre, then

He yanked his legs from the footstool and leaned forward as the minister continued.

It wasnt possible. It simply wasnt possible.

You mean to tell me that she actually fought in Peregrinnoand slew Gmord? Aedion laughed in disbelief and
unexpected triumph.

What kind of a woman was she? His mind spun. She had to be a giantor covered in mountain ranges of muscle. Or
both.

I have a feeling that she gave the Crown Prince a verybland version of what happened, and I suspect that her role
in the battle was much greater than what Dorian believes, the minister said. But we shall have to wait until the ships
arrive to discover the real story behind this mess.

All of his grief suddenly seemed like a misconception. Mess? Mess? Its amazing! Aedion looked at his sword and
shield and grinned. Aelin of Trasien, conqueror of Adarlan!

Celaena Sardothien, conqueror of Trasien.

Aedions kaleidoscope eyes flashed. The princeling still doesnt know who she really is?

The minister chuckled and shook his head. No, but he still intends to marry her.

Aedion Ashryver felt as if someone were pressing on the base of his neck. What? he asked dumbly. His temper
began to boil as he saw the minister grin at his shock.

How else did you think that they communicated? Their magick and love allows them to dream together just as you
and I are talking right now.

She doesnt love him.

She most certainly does, and Id like to see you try to change that.

Shes Aelin Galathynius.

Shes a womanand hes a very attractive, charismatic, intelligent young man, despite what you might think.

Why cant I talk to her? Aedion shifted in his seat, feeling queasy. Why hadnt he suspected before? Why hadnt
Tiryn told him in the first place? His fists clenched. Tiryn was playing all of them for fools.

In a dream, you mean? The minister shrugged. She doesnt know you: why would she want to?

Like hell she doesnt! He leapt to his feet and pointed at his armor. That is what she doesnt know, not me. She
knows me and she doesnt contact me because shes afraidshe is ashamed of what she is! In the bright midday
sunlight, his hair glowed like holy fire.

The minister laughed once more, and Aedion ground his teeth. Believe me, Ive seen this woman in combatshe isnt
easily frightened. If anything, shes more afraid for your life than anything else. And as for shame, I cant speak for
her on that subject. Aedion, I think that if she knew you were alive and willing to help her, things would be different.

I gave the Crown Prince an option just nowbetween revolution and resignationand Im going to give it to you as
well. Either you choose to trust me and to have faith that Aelin Galathynius is not the monster you imagine her to be,
or you can choose to have your fateand Trasiens fatedecided by stereotypes and stupidity. Im not going to deny
it: we need your help. Should you choose to turn your back on Aelin and Trasien, you would make things extremely
difficult, if not impossible for us.
The army respects and loves you, and that is what we need. Without the army behind us, we are just an old man, an
assassin, and a reluctant, nave prince. But with you and your troops, we are a force that even the King of Adarlan will
fear. There was no worry in the Ministers eyes, but the general could not help but notice the slight shaking of his
hands.

There was something in the old mans agitation and conviction that calmed him. Aedion saw the wrinkles and the frail
body: aside from his wild and powerful ideas, Tiryn was really just an old man. He checked his anger. They were not
enemies.

Aedion picked up his apple from where he had dropped it on the floor and placed it on the table beside him as he took
a seat once more. But Tiryns plans were a bitfantastical, to say the least.

I dont believe, Aedion growled, that my men would go so far as to defy their king and country for me.

The minister smiled, taking a breath. And who are these men? The victims of a brutal conquest. Unless they are
natives, which is a slim chance, they love the King of Adarlan no more than you do. Aedion frowned, but the minister
continued.

They stayed on this shore with you, didnt they? If they would disobey their kings command for a crucial battle such
as Peregrinno and instead follow their general, then revolution is not far off.

Aedion shrugged, and leaned back in his chair, displaying the slender scar that sliced down towards the obtuse angle
of his jaw. Maybe his ideas werent that crazy.

Have you ever even spoken to Aelin Galathynius about this?

The minister laughed. Of course not. But if all goes according to plan, she and I will be on relatively the same page
by now.

Aedion snorted in contempt. He was foolish to make such broad assumptions. We shall see, old man, we shall see.

The Minister frowned, but spoke once more. What I actually really came to tell you about, Aedion, was the situation
that this battle poses for you. Depending on whether or not Aelin is mentioned, you will be punished by the king in
some way: your failure to go to Wendlyn resulted in this battles complete collapse. And, if it is found out that Aelin
Galathynius led those troops to victory, then your connection with her will be further cause for suspicion and
punishment.

Aedion rolled his eyes and leaned forward. I can take care of myself, but I appreciate your heartfelt concern, he said
with a vicious smile.

Aedion, dont be foolish. If the King of Adarlan comes to claim your life in return for Peregrinno

If the King of Adarlan comes to claim my life, Ill be waiting, Aedion snarled. And, who knows, he drawled,
perhaps his death will give you the revolutionary opportunity you need.

The Minister of Trasiens face was still grim. Perhaps, he said, staring at the glowing spring light. Perhaps.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien dropped the bag of coins down on the table with a loud thud. Leighanna and Luca looked up at
her, and then down at the bag once more.

What in Hell is in there? the youth asked, picking up the bag. There was a creak from behind them, and the kitchen
door swung open to reveal Stephaenyas willowy form. Not speaking to any of them, the servant girl helped herself to
a bowl of paestia and a good chunk of cheese before sitting down at the far end of the table.

Celaena frowned at the girl, and looked at Luca with raised eyebrows. He raised his in response, and Celaena jerked
her head in the girls direction. Luca shook his head slightly and exposed his palms to her, his face contorting in a
smile of confusion.
The assassin looked down the table at Stephaenya, whose head was lowered, and then rolled her eyes.

Luca repeated his question again, opening the bag. The gleam of the gold reflected on his face as the coins spilled out
in a wave upon the table. Where did you get all of this? Elentulyai, there must be at least He spread the gold out
on the table, his fingers dancing upon their marked surfaces. At least sixty gold pieces here!

Celaena ran her thumb across her bare finger and smiled weakly.

You didnt, he said softly, and Stephaenya raised her head.

The assassin shrugged. I did what I had to. It was just jewelry.

Cindrillion flitted in from the stairwell, beaming at everyone. Whats going on here? Her mouth condensed into a
circle and she let out a long whistle as she saw the gold. Where on earth did this money come from? Thats enough
to nearly buy this estate!

Luca frowned, his brow a solid line across his eyes. Elentulyai pawned her ring for it.

The Crown Princes engagement ring? Cindrillion put a hand to her chest.

Engagement ring? Luca asked, standing up. You are engaged to the Crown Prince of Adarlan? What the hell are you
doing here?

Celaenas mouth gaped open and she stared incredulously at Cindrillion. I am not engaged to the Crown Prince of
Adarlan!

Shes pretty much engaged to him though! Cindrillion exclaimed, grabbing Celaenas bare hand and holding it up.

No, Im not, Celaena barked, yanking her hand free.

He loves herand hes going to come to Wendlyn disguised as a woman to fight for her love and win her back and
make her his princess!

How utterly absurd! Celaenas face was a rainbow of red and pink hues, and she shook her head violently at Luca
and Leighanna. You two know what shes likehow she likes to embellish things She shot Cindrillion a dirty look.
Yes, Dorian DeHavilliard gave me the ring, but it was just out of thanks and recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Cindrillion shaking her head and mouthing no to the three other people in
the room as she pointed to her ring finger.

Turning around in her seat, Celaenas nose crinkled up in agitation. You stop that! she hissed, and dragged the
blond girl down onto the bench beside her. We are not engaged, nor did we ever have any romantic relations. The
ring was just a trinket, and it had no emotional significance to me.

You saw how she fondled it all the time! Cindrillion burst in.

The assassin slammed her fist onto the table. I did not fondle itthat was just a bad, nervous habit.

Yes, she was so nervous because she knows that the handsome Dorian DeHavilliard is coming right now to sweep her
off her feet and she wants to make sure that she looks decent for him! You three notice how much she preens in the
mirror or anything with a reflective surface! I caught her looking at her reflection in the wash bucket! She always has
to look her best in case he shows up! Cindrillions blue eyes bulged from her head, her mouth set in a wide grin.

Celaena, unable to help herself, began laughing. That is another lie. Dorian would sooner go to the moon than come
over here, and there would certainly not be any sweeping of the feet.

Thats because hes already swept her away with his good looks and charisma!
Celaena laughed again, and Cindrillion continued. Heres my theory about Elentulyai: Shes a noble from Adarlans
Empire, and, while spending time in Renaril, she and the Crown Prince fell in love. However, because she was so
afraid of her intense feelings for Dorian, she fled across the seato the one place he couldnt find her! Because as
much as she loves him, she hates his evil father even moreand she would sooner plunge a sword into her heart than
allow that vile man to be her father in-law!

That certainly explains a lot, Leighanna said, and Luca nodded his agreement. Silently, Stephaenya stood up and left
the room.

It is a lie, and Cindrillion is a very good story-teller! Thats all!

Then who are you, really? Luca asked, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Celaena looked at him, and then at the remaining two women, and snorted. Just another personlike yourselves.

What a cheap answer! the youth cried, and the old woman laughed.

Let her keep her secrets, you two, Leighanna said warmly, the wrinkles around her eyes curving upwards. Sooner
or later, well find out the truth.

Celaena stuck out her tongue at them, and pushed the gold back into the bag. The money is yours, she said to Luca.
Use it for whatever else you think you need for the tournament.

Oooh, Cindrillion said. The tournament! The faeries are in such excitement over it! Luca, youre going to win, right?
Youve got to win! If we can, well all be there! But, if the Baroness wont give us time off, well be there that night to
celebrate!

Luca grinned. I hope soif anything, the greatest reward will be sleeping until breakfast. He winked at Celaena, who
was just putting the remaining few pieces in the sack. She had removed a hundred of the coins before handing over
the sack. The ring had brought in a huge amount of money, and, while her finger felt bare and cold without it, she
knew that it was better used off her hand than on it. Knowing how much money was now concealed beneath her bed,
Celaenas heart now felt lighter than it had in a while.

Thank you, Luca said softly, looking at the old woman and the assassin. Celaena smiled at him as he continued.

I cant ever repay you for this, and I know that were all in debt to begin withand that this money would get us out
of that debtand maybe I should just use it to

Dont be stupid, Leighanna snapped. That money is yours, just as this is your dream. If you win this tournament,
the rewards of it will be much more than any money on this table.

He began to object, but she cut him off again. Were your familyits what we do. I dont have anything Id rather
spend the money on, and Elentulyais ring clearly didnt mean more to her than this tournament.

Celaena nodded her head. But keep in mind it will be difficult, Lucaextremely difficult, but youve seen this whole
jousting thing before. Just remember to keep your eyes on your target and to keep a good seat on your horse.

Luca bit his lip, his eyes moist. But this is all too muchyoure giving me too much gold. I dont know what to do
with all of this.

Its an investment, Celaena said. Towards advancing your future and improving your life, and the lives of your
friends.

I he began, but there was a loud boom, and the three people looked up at Stephaenya in surprise. A heavy brown
bag lay on the table.

Here, she exclaimed, her hair disheveled. Her eyes were wide as a mad womans, and she was panting. Heres all I
have. Twenty gold pieces. Take ittake it all, Luca.
The youth shook his head and pushed the brown bag back towards her end of the table. Thats the money your
parents left youits not yours to give to me.

It is mine, and this is how I choose to use it. If she, Stephaenya jerked her chin towards Celaena, can sell her
engagement ring or whatever it is, then I can give my inheritance away.

She shoved it down towards Luca again and put her hands on her hips.

Celaena watched them with a small smile on her face, and felt Cindrillions smooth hand grab hers from beneath the
table.

I will not take no for an answer, the servant girl declared, her eyes moist. But, Luca, you had better damn win.

Without a word, the youth rushed towards her and grabbed Stephaenya in his arms, pulling her close. Stephaenyas
eyes expanded and her face flushed, but then a glow of pleasure washed of her and she buried her face in his neck.
The three women watched for a moment, and then looked away, grinning.

Is love a universal thing?

Celaenas brows lowered and the grin faded.

Is love the same for everyoneor is it different? Can two people be in love and feel completely different things for
each other?

She thought of Dorian, and of Symethand then of Chaol Wydrael, and Galan and Aedion Ashryver. She didnt love
any of them, but she felt strong emotions towards them. Maybe she had just been taught by books and plays and
songs to believe that love was this spiritual, all-encompassing, life-changing thing. Maybe love was just a momenta
moment in which everything is right and you feel completeand that the whole journey of love is just an attempt to
capture that moment again and again and again.

Or maybe its just a connection with someonea connection so natural and strong that you apply all of these romantic
notions to it. Or maybe love is just desire: sexual, emotional, spiritual. Youre with this person because they offer you
some kind of relief from whatever youre looking for.

Celaena looked back at Stephaenya and Luca, who were seating themselves at the table once more. The air in the
room had now calmed to a pleasant level, and the youth and his sweetheart went about gathering the coins into one
bag.

She had no idea what the hell love was, nor could she ever really understand what other people meant when they
described it. She didnt know whether to despair or accept it.

Standing up, Celaena put her empty bowl of paestia in the sink and told the others that she was going for a walk
before washing the dishes. They didnt really seem to be bothered by it, save for the farm boy.

Its going to rain, Luca called after her as she hopped over the bottom door, I would bring a cloak.

Celaena ignored him and walked through the small herb garden, looking at the sky. The sun was setting, its splattered
pink and orange rays illuminating the thick, bruised clouds that were gathering from all directions. She walked
casually along the sandy path, rubbing her bare finger. The breeze was cool and its freshness stung her nostrils as she
inhaled deeply. She wasnt really thinking about anything, save for the smell of the air and the rustle of the wind in
the new spring leaves.

Celaena turned down a familiar path that led deep into the forest. Thick vegetation eventually gave way to rolling
knolls, and Celaena, spotting its destination, walked up a steep hill, its grass soft and moist beneath her sandaled
feet. Beneath the tender grass, she could feel the life-bearing mud struggle against her, and, by the time she reached
the top of the hill, she had worked up a sweat. It was so green and fresh here, so full of potential and throbbing
energy

Taking a seat beneath the lone tree that guarded its smooth top, the assassin looked out over the forest and farm
valley beyond. It looked as smooth and perfect as a painting.
Yet again, youve strayed into a sacred Fae place, unwanted and unwelcome.

Her heart paused in terror, but then resumed its movement.

Celaena rolled her eyes and looked at Raonn, whose silver hair was fluttering in the growing wind. If you had your
way, everything would be sacred Fae land.

He let out a snort and watched the sunset. What are you doing out? Its going to pour soon, you know.

I know, she said irritably. Its just water.

Raonn laughed. We shall see.

For a peaceful moment, they were silent, and Celaena turned to watch the dying display of light. Come to summon
me to Maeve, have you?

The Fae prince glared at her, and then returned to the view. No. He stopped for a few seconds, as if waiting for a
snotty response, and then continued speaking. Ill have you know that this is one of my favorite places in the forest,
and I like to spend my spring nights here.

Instead of in Doranelle?

He laughed spitefully. Its sometimes too stifling in there. He gestured across the land with a slender arm, and her
gaze followed him over valleys and lush forests, ripe for summer heat. This place is on the border of Fae territory,
and yet close to shelterthe perfect solitary retreat.

Believe me, Celaena snapped, if I had known that this was your hill, I never would have come here in the first
place.

He snorted again, and took a seat beside her against the tree.

The clouds were gathering with tremendous speed, and looked darker by the minute. She looked at her clothes and
frowned.

Did you say there was shelter close by? she asked, glancing at his tattooed face.

Yes.

I didnt see any buildings or huts or whatnot on the way over here.

Raonn chuckled. Its a Fae shelter, not a human one.

In a tree?

What good would that be in a rainstorm?

Celaena mimicked him, a blush rising to her cheeks. Arrogant, self-righteous brat.

Were on a Tor of the Fae, the prince said, exasperated. Do you know what that means? Celaenas hands clenched
into fists.

No, she said sullenly.

That means that beneath this hill, is a hollow cave in which we can hidewhether from bad weather or from an
assailant. Of course, during the dark of the moon, theyre the worst places to be, but theyve got a bit of magick in
them that keeps them mostly dry and well-ventilated.

How convenient.
Raonn ignored her sarcasm and continued. There used to be thousands of them all overnot just in Wendlyn, but
across the ocean as well. That is, before Adarlan took over and exiled and executed the Fae.

Celaena noted the anger and the sadness in his voice, and wondered, but did not ask the personal question that came
to mind.

Why didnt the Fae fight back? Against Adarlan, I mean.

Raonn sighed, and brushed his hair out of his face. Your guess is as good as mine. I heard rumors that the land
became so abused that it refused to allow even the Fae to withdraw power from it. And, without their power source,
they only had their physical strengthwhich, against a conquering army, is pretty ineffectual.

You mean that the land actually turned its back on the Fae?

Raonn played with the grass beneath them and nodded. Its got a spirit just like you and I have. There are millions of
themmountain spirits, tree spirits, animal spiritsall linked together in one force that maintains balance and
fertility.

So when you use your power, youre actually

Using the power of these spirits. We ask for their permission, and promise to return it once weve accomplished what
we need to do. If you hold their spirit for too long, however, you can kill itespecially lesser plants and animals.

A wind whipped Celaenas skirt like a sail, slashing against her legs.

So, this tree and this grass and this hill all have spirits? It was too strange to be true.

Nature is not as narrow-minded as humans are. The Goddess is extraordinarily creativein ways that humans cant
even begin to fathom.

A raindrop fell coldly upon Celaenas ankle, and she stood up. The sun was almost gone and the temperature was
dropping. I have to get home before the storm soaks me.

Youll never make it in time.

Celaena gave him an obscene gesture, and he snarled.

Enjoy your night of solitude and well-ventilated caves, she spat as she began her descent.

Raonn followed her down the hill, his long stride causing Celaena to practically run down the increasingly muddy slope
in an attempt to beat him to the bottom. Celaena winced as she felt mud squish between her toes and splatter on her
calves. Rain was dropping with sporadic cruelty, and her smooth-bottomed sandals were lost from beneath her. She
had the dizzying feeling of falling, but before her bottom could touch the wet ground, a strong grip grabbed her arm
and pulled her upwards. Vertigo made her close her eyes for a moment and take a steadying breath before opening
them once more. The hand was still clenched around her arm.

Celaena turned to look at Raonn, surprise breaking out in arches across her face. He awkwardly released her, and
flicked his hair behind his shoulders. If you broke your neck, Maeve would have my head.

She chuckled and straightened out her blue blouse. Im sure, she said dryly, but continued carefully to the foot of
the Tor. Grateful to be on flat ground, she began to walk quickly down the path.

Where are you going? Raonn growled from behind her, and she stopped in her tracks, caught off-guard again.

Back to the chateau.

With your luck, youll be hit by lightning, he said as a thunderhead bellowed its fury.

As long as you dont send one after me, thats just a chance I have to take, isnt it? she sneered, and continued.
Raonn clicked his tongue. Come on, lets go.

Lets go where? Celaena halted and turned around once more.

Into the Tor.

She gave him a weighing stare, frowning.

Its just like a human to be so close-minded and hesitate when help is being offered.

Im not hesitating because of the Tor, you fool! she spat. Im deciding between remaining safe and drying off, and
spending an evening with you.

The rain was coming down in slashing lines, and Celaenas hair hung down in dark waves. It was much, much colder
with the rainand it was a long walkand it wasnt as if she had to speak to him

Raonn looked at her impatiently, and began walking around the base of the Tor.

Her erect nipples chafed against the harsh cotton and her dirty legs were sore and frozen. It was a really long walk

Fine! she exclaimed, running after him, a few hours wont kill me.

Her white skirt was dripping water, and Celaena crossed her arms as the Fae Prince stopped in front of a large tree at
the base of the hill. He went up to the trunk and whispered a few words into the damp wood before the roots parted
and a gaping hole, no wider than four feet, appeared. It was amazing.

Get in, he said curtly, and pointed at the hole.

Celaena bit her lip, and looked at the sky above, rain stinging her face. While she didnt like being caught in a
thunderstorm, she hated caves. As a child, she had never been able to go more than a foot inside of one for fear that
it would close upor that she would become lost and die of starvation or of falling down a hole into endless
darkness

Raonn let out a grunt of disgust and lowered himself into the hole, his silver hair sliding across the roots and finally
into nothing.

Celaena took a step closer and peered down into the hole. Raonn was only a few feet down, his face angular with
impatience. Lets goyoure letting all the rain in.

Celaena looked at the tree, pleading with it to not close its roots around her while she descended, and took a deep
breath as she slowly lowered herself into the hole. She felt two strong hands take a hold of her waist and, looking
down to make sure that he was holding her firmly, Celaena let go of the roots.

Surprised at his strength, Celaena let herself be lowered to the ground. Without a word, Raonn turned away from her
and began to walk down a narrow tunnel, his hair reflecting the pulsating light that grew stronger with every step.

There was a smell in the caveof earth and moisture, but also of something calming and refreshing

Before them opened an archway, and Celaena hurried after Raonn to see the chamber that lay before them, and also
afraid to be left in the dark. It was simple, round, and spacious, not at all like a normal cave: the floor was made of
soil, and there were a few bed spaces carved into the rock walls facing the fire pit in the center of the room. To the
back of the cave lay a pool of water, its source a

Celaenas eyes filled with purple light and stars as she saw the ceiling. Roots from the great tree on the Tor hung
down, dripping water and displaying the most incredible flowers she had ever seen. She had never heard of a trees
roots having blooming growth like this, but, upon getting a closer look at them, Celaena noticed that they werent
exactly natural. They were purple towards the sharp edges, its inner petals a deep blue in color, and at the center of
each laid a glowing light that burned like a tiny star.
Theyre called rootweed, the Fae Prince said, motioning at the flowers and piling wood from a nearby pile into the
fire pit. They grow at the roots of most of the cedar trees planted by the Fae.

So thats what that scent was!

Theyre pretty useless, he drawled, unless youre in a cave. You see, they only grow at the roots of trees, and if you
expose them to sunlight, or if you cut them from the branches, their light goes out and they shrivel up.

Celaena examined a low-hanging one, her eyes glowing in the light. Well, theyre beautiful to look at.

But who wants to go into a cave to look at them? Theyre too much of a hassle. If you want to see true flowers of the
Fae, go have a look around Maeves garden.

Celaena smiled to herself, and grabbed another log for the fire. How long do you think this storm will last?

It could be an hour, it could be all night. Its a spring thunderstorm. Raonn shrugged and whispered a few words
onto the firewood, causing them to instantly burst into flames.

Howd you do that? Celaena said, exhaling a breath of disbelief.

If youd let my Queen teach you how, you could learn.

I didnt ask for a lecture, I asked how you did that.

Raonn removed his gray cloak and spread it beside the fire to dry. Magick.

Dont play stupid, she snapped. What did you say to make it burn?

He placed his boots alongside his cape and smirked. Youll have to learn that on your own.

She let out a cry of frustration and sat down, staring up at the flowers. Are you this unpleasant to your Fae
companions?

I dont really have any companionssave for Maeve.

Celaenas mouth twisted in a half-smile. I cant imagine why. She waited for a retort that didnt come.

His silence made her feel guilty, and so she spoke again, watching him with piqued interest. Dont you have a lady to
court? Someone you loveaside from Maeve?

No.

Celaena simpered. Theres no pretty Fae woman that youd like to

No.

So all you really have is your aunt?

The prince nodded, watching the fire.

Celaena paused, and frowned. Dont you get lonely?

Raonns graceful neck swiveled to look at her, his eyes narrowed. She braced herself for a poisonous response.

Sometimes.

His honesty was disarming. Grey met blue, and they stared at each other silently.
Me too, Celaena smiled, and wrung her wet hair.

Raonn gave a contemptuous laugh. You? Lonely? It seems to me like youve got friends and men courting you left
and right.

You can have all the friends and lovers in the world and still feel lonely.

I suppose.

Id rather have no one to talk to than a million people pretending to listen to me.

You think that your friends pretend to listen?

Celaena combed the tangles from her hair. No, but I think that there are certain limits to how well people can
understand each other. For instance, my friends at the chateau will never understand the many issues in my life,
simply because they have never experienced anything like it.

It might help if you bothered to tell them the entire truth.

Celaena stuck out her tongue. Even if I did, they wouldnt really understand things. Unless you have the deepest,
most intimate bond with someone, none of your friends will ever really understand you when you explain your joys
and difficulties to them. Either theyre so wrapped up in their own lives, or they just prescribe certain stereotypes to
who you are and your problemsso that they can give you the expected answer with very little thought.

Youve got an awfully negative outlook on companionship.

Celaena sighed. To be honest, I think that there are very few people you can trust, and that its best to just rely on
yourself to get things done.

Is that why youre so hesitant to rule?

Celaena stared at the prince, amazed by his acute observation.

Yes! she ejaculated. Yes! Thats exactly why! Because if I rule, then I know that Ill want to do things myselfbut,
due to time and distance, I wont be able to do everything I want to do, so Ill have to place my trust in officials that I
appoint. And how can I trust them? And what if they dont do their job the way I want? Its so much pressure!

Raonn nodded his head in agreement.

I mean, Celaena continued, the words pouring out of her, you at least understand some of thisyoure a Fae
Prince! You must feel some kind of burden and faithlessness!

Raonn laughed. Its actually more of a title than an actual, useful position. I dont really have any duties, save for
serving Maeve and training youand the occasional border patrol.

Oh, Celaena said and looked to the fire once more.

But, Raonn said with unusual kindness, I can understand why you would be so hesitant to do what Maeve wants
you to.

She smiled sadly at him. I never properly thanked you for bringing me to bel.

Raonn raised his head proudly. I dont need your thanks.

Celaena rolled her eyes. Regardless, thank you. Itit was extremely useful.

Raonn dug his bare feet into the ground and wiggled them around. Is the boy still set on jousting?

Celaena nodded grimly. I went into town today to put a down payment on the armor.
Raonn raised an eyebrow. With what money?

Well, Luca and Leighanna gave whatever money they had in their savings, but it wasnt enough so Celaena waved
her hand in front of her face. So I sold my ring.

Dorian DeHavilliards ring?

Yes, Celaena said, bracing herself for an argument.

How noble, Raonn sneered. I guess there can be honor amongst criminals.

She crossed her arms and looked away. You know, she snapped, for a moment we were actually having a civilized
conversation.

The cave air addles my senses.

Im not going to tell anyone if youre nice to me for an hour or so.

Id rather rot.

Celaena looked at the slight pink in his cheeks and grinned. If you say so, she said.

They sat before the fire, not speaking, for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire and the dripping of the roots
into the small pool. The pounding rain above provided a gentle drumming, and Celaena watched the rootweeds,
content to keep her mouth shut. Lost in her thoughts, she slipped into a slight trance.

After some time, Raonn stretched and began to rise.

Where are you going? she asked, getting to her feet as well, though her mind was trying to remember where it was
at the moment. She gathered herself together, recalling the events of the past few hours, and ran a hand through her
hair. Her clothes were pretty much dry, though she was a bit dirty. She scraped the dirt off her legs and feet, and it
crumbled away without protest. Her clothes were not so fortunate. Wiping the bit of dirt off the back of her skirt,
Celaena scowled at the brown stain it left, and rubbed the dirt off her hands.

The rains stoppedyoure going home.

Arent you coming with me?

He gave her a look, and Celaena hissed. Right, rightthe solitary prince kind of thing.

Raonn ignored her and began walking towards the tunnel. Scrambling after him, Celaena took one last look at the
rootweed before she disappeared down the long passageway. The roots of the tree opened up, revealing a cloud-
speckled night sky, and Celaena allowed herself to be hoisted upwards.

She grabbed onto a nearby root and awkwardly pulled herself over the wet and root-ridden ground until her feet
cleared the hole. The damp ground further soiled her clothes, and the sharp roots cut into her body. Celaena rotated
on her knees and looked down at the Fae prince, who was staring up at her.

Thank you for the shelterand few minutes of decent conversation, she said with a smirk, wiping her hands on her
skirt. Raonn said nothing, and brushed his hair back behind a pointed ear.

Thank you for the unpleasant view of your undergarments, he snickered, and before Celaena could begin screaming
obscenities, the roots closed up.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Naturally, by the time she returned to the chateau, it had begun raining once more, leaving her more soaked than she
had been before the cave. She had mud up to her calves once again, and her skirt was coated to the knee in dirt and
water. It was the most miserable night she had had in a while.
Running down the path towards the warmly lit chateau, she heard noise coming from the kitchen that made her slow
down. It was not the smooth flow of the violin, but rather the braying and trembling of an instrument similar in build
and sound. Approaching the back door, she glimpsed inside and saw Leighanna perched on a stool by the fire, playing
for the three young people. Celaena could recognize the instrument but could not name itit was wooden and
stringed and Leighanna played it gracefully with a curved bow.

The dishes had been washed and put away, and Celaena felt slightly guilty for missing her assigned task yet again.
Shooing away the few faeries that had gathered around the door to hear the performance, Celaena climbed over the
bottom as quietly as she could and tiptoed into the kitchen, dragging mud and water all over. Cindrillion, looking over
at her, beckoned for her to take a seat, and Celaena let out a sigh of relief.

It was so warm in the room that she didnt feel a need to immediately change out of her clothes. The assassin chose a
more solitary seat and sat down upon the second step of the stairwell, watching the old woman play.

It was music that was dark and yet light, speaking of countries far off and of heat and spices and burning, whirling hot
sand. Its pitch bordered on sharp and whiny, but it was low and throbbing at times. The lines on Leighannas face
were etched in more deeply in the firelight, and the assassin watched her old, strong hands nimbly play the
instrument.

It didnt really seem to have a set melody or patternand the improvisational aspect of the old womans music, along
with the dark glow of the hearth, brought Celaena to a place she hadnt seen in years, but frequented in her most
idyllic dreams.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She was riding upon a red pony: trotting alongside the sun-bleached cliffs above a green sea, the smell of sand and
salt catching in her golden hair. She wasnt off anywhere important, simply riding her pony, taking in the freedom that
a summers day offers to a child.

They were vacationing at their summer palace in Azuria, the blue-roofed, whitewashed fishing town on the East Coast
of Trasien. She was seven, missing three of her baby teeth, and her face was an explosion of freckles and joy. A safe
distance behind rode her parents and several members of the court, trying their best to look as uninterested as
possible while their young princess took her first solo ride.

She had insisted that they remain at least fifty yards behind her, and each time they crossed that line, she galloped
ahead, glaring behind her shoulder. Her pony was fat and stupid, so it only galloped a few paces before stopping to
trot at its own leisure.

Beyond her, the sea stretched on, the few clouds overhead casting strange shadows upon its white-speckled surface.
Everything seemed to either be a glowing white or a brilliant shade of blue or green. They had been here for a week
now, enjoying the sun and bathing in the warm waters of protected coves and reefs.

Her uncle had remained behind in Orynth, the capital city of Trasien, having kingly duties to attend to that did not
make room for vacation. She wished that she could live in Azuria her entire lifethough with a horse, not a lazy pony
and build a house overlooking the sea. The palace in Azuria was beautiful, but it was a palace: there were too many
servants and cooks and busy people running about. She wanted a home just like her one outside of Oryntha place
where she could live with her mother and father and have room for a few other people and a handful of smiling
servants.

She looked over her shoulder at her mother and father, who waved, and smiled. Scowling, she turned back to the
ocean. Things were much better outside of Orynth.

No stifling dresses, no overbearing tutors, no constant lightshow emitting from the Opal Tower, no condescending
adults

In the sea breeze, everyone seemed a bit happier and less inclined to remind her of the great burden she must bear
some day and so on and so forth until she wanted to chop off her hair and become a pirate.

Her gold-flecked eyes scanned the wide green expanse, pulling her pudgy horse to a stop. A sharp wind blew her
sticky hair across her face, and she pushed it away with an ivory hand. Behind her, the riding party immediately
halted, and watched her with curiosity. Her favorite ruins of a Fae temple lay a hundred yards before her, and,
deciding it was the ideal place to stop for lunch, Aelin Galathynius jabbed her pony into its soft side several times,
before she bullied it into a gallop.

They reached the temple, and Celaena dismounted and tethered the silly beast to a fallen column, walking across the
white stone of the exposed square.

The roof had long-since disappeared, and now all the remained of the site were weather-stained pillars, some fallen,
some erect, and the original raised foundation. She had dragged her mother here several times in the past week, as
this was her favorite haunt of the Azurian Region, and it required as much homage as possible in the three months
that they remained here. Walking to the edge of the foundation, she leaned against a pillar at least twenty feet tall
and watched the waves crash and explode against the honey-colored rocks below.

It would be exciting and grand, she thought to herself as she waited for her company to arrive, to be a pirate. There
were so many unexplored inlets and islandsso many opportunities for adventure! And gold and rubies and emeralds
and sapphires and pearls and crowns and

Shed need enemies, of course, but she couldnt really think of anyone suitable. Fighting against her own country
wouldnt be allowed, and she didnt really have a quarrel with any others.

Maybe shed have a pirate rival: and they would sail from one end of the earth to the other in an attempt to out-do
and destroy each other! Her crew, of course, would be the best; and Aedion would come with her as her first-mate.
Maybe shed allow Thaelius to come as well. If he agreed not to lecture her on magicking things.

Are you satisfied yet, cousin?

She turned to see Aedion dismounting from his small chestnut gelding, a present he had received from her mother
his auntfor his ninth birthday three months ago.

I told you to remain fifty yards away! she baited him.

Aedion tied his horse beside her round pony and stuck out his tongue. Im hungry and I want lunch. Youve been
leading us along these cliffs at a snails pace for the past hour. That fat pony of yours is the laziest creature Ive ever
seen. He walked over to where she was standing and looked at the ocean.

Ive decided, she said, putting her hands on her hips. Im going to be a pirate. You can be my first mate. She lifted
her chin proudly.

You dont know the first thing about piracy.

I do too! Her eyes grew narrow with anger.

Oh, really? How? You dont know any pirates!

I read books on them!

Youre just a silly girl: you cant learn about being a pirate by reading.

Well at least I can read! You dont hear me stammering and stopping when I read aloud!

Aedion pulled a lock of her hair. At least I dont have an obese pony!

Your stupid horse is almost as small as she is!

Youre just jealous because I got a horse for my birthday and you got some books and dolls!

She grabbed his tan arm and raked her sharp nails down it, causing him to squeal in pain. The soft flesh barely
withstood her ragged, nervously chewed nails.
Fine, Aedion: when Im Queen of the Pirates, youll be sorry! Ill come to your home and steal your stupid horse and
all of your money and burn your estate and then where will you be? Youll be poor and fat and homeless!

Not if I murder you first!

Murder me? Im the Queen of the Piratesthats not allowed.

It is too!

Only my arch nemesis has the rights to kill me!

Then Ill become a pirate king and duel youIll have better ships and a better crew.

Not if I become pirate first.

You cant even be a pirate, you have to be queen.

Says who?

Uncle Orlon.

He didnt say I couldnt be a pirate.

He did too.

Youre a liar, Aedion Ashryver! Her temper was intoxicating. It scared her, but she couldnt stop it. She needed to
extract its rage on him.

I am not!

She scratched his arm again and pinched him, causing him to grab onto her hair, pulling her head back. The harder he
yanked, the tighter she grabbed his arm. Within seconds, they were both grunting and howling with rage and
frustration.

You stupid, stupid boy! I hate you! I hate you! she shrieked, clawing and pinching. With a cry of defiance, she
pushed him back into a fallen pillar, and felt a strong wind whipping around her. She wanted to send him off the cliff,
to blow him into pieces, to splatter his head upon the

Aelin! Aelin stop! Thaelius came rushing towards them, his golden-brown hair blazing. His gray eyes were as hard as
stone, and his brows were narrowed into a V. The anger and fear in his voice made her immediately release her
cousin, and she turned towards her friend and mentor, ready for a lecture.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien awoke to find herself still leaning against the wall of the stairway, the fire low and the kitchen
empty. How long had she been asleep? The only noises were the dying moans of the hearth and the heavy pounding
of rain on the roof. Feeling her skirt and blouse and finding them to still be damp, Celaena moved to Cindrillions chair
beside the fire.

How considerate of them to wake me up!

Curling her legs to her chest, Celaena Sardothien watched the fire die long into the night, the roar of the ocean still in
her ears.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Arobynn Hamel closed the letter from the Crown Prince of Adarlan, a puzzled look spreading across his face. He had
received it that afternoon by way of business mailmeaning, through a complex system of trusted individuals and lots
of goldand had read it twice already. Was it a hoax? Was it a trick to capture him?
He tried to think of ways in which his system could have been infiltrated; and, unless his protg had decided to stab
him in the back, there was no way that Dorian DeHavilliard could have known how to reach him.

But Celaena was abroad!

Arobynn read the letter once more before standing up and walking across his ornate office to a small silver box
displayed on a podium in the corner. Removing a key from his pocket, he slipped it into the lock and turned it,
opening its shining lid to reveal a bed of black velvet and one small, golden key.

He removed it from the box and held it up, examining it in the light. He hadnt been to her apartment in over a year
was it still intact? He closed the box, locked it, and paced across the red and gold carpet of the room.

The Crown Princes requests were very strange: since when had he gone from a symbol of Adarlans debauchery to a
man of revolution? What was Sardothien planning?

She was in Wendlyn nowthe country of her mother and cousinwhat powers would be unleashed?

Arobynn Hamel played with the silver hoop in his ear as he sat down on a taupe velvet couch. If there were some kind
of political revolution in the works, would she actually participate? Had she planned all of this, or was there another
puppeteer?

Tiryn, Minister of Trasien. The Crown Prince had mentioned him as a post-script.

Arobynn twirled the key in his fingers, watching it shimmer in the dying light. Aedion Ashryver had ridden through
Renaril the other day as well.

All of Trasiens major players are being assembled, but for what game? Revolution? Reform? Would she actually do
this without my counselwithout my permission?

If the Crown Prince was one of these cohorts, then something serious was underway. Did he know about Celaenas
true identity?

The Lord of the Assassins stood up and stalked across the room to the large windows overlooking the capital city. In
the distance the glass palace gleamed red, its turrets piercing the sky like deadly lances.

Was it a trap or not?

Fingering the pewter drapes with one hand and clutching the key in the other, Arobynn Hamel watched the city slither
and squirm beneath the view of the castle.

He could take the precautionary steps to ensure his safetya decoy perhaps?

There are enough options for me to do this and to remain alive.

Sitting down at his desk once more, Arobynn placed the key on the table and ran a hand through his receding red hair
before he took out a few sheets of parchment and began to write.

Yes, he would help the Crown Prince and his friend.

He wrote down directions on how to meet him in three days time, and finished with the question of the Minister of
Trasien having any connection to this whole ordeal. His letter finished, he whistled for a page, and gave instructions
on how to send the letter. He had a few connections in the palace, but none high enough to grant him access to its
interior.

The clock suddenly struck five, and his appointment walked in: a shaking, balding man in his fifties: fat, short, and
sweating profusely. Pulling out the mans file from the second drawer down on his grand mahogany desk, Arobynn
tried to suppress a groan. They should be killing political fiends, not adulterous wives and their lovers!

Beckoning for the man to sit in one of the wooden chairs before the desk, Arobynn swiftly placed the golden key in the
top drawer and crossed his legs as the man began to stammer and whine.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The stars flying around her caught in her billowing skirt and lifted her upwards across the dark sky, tangling
themselves in her long hair and nestling close to her breast as they flew in a torrent of night. They crossed mountains
and wide planes, and black water lapped beneath them for what seemed like eternity. Silver cliffs suddenly rose
before them, and there was a spark of light to the South, but they flew on: passing over dense forests until they
reached a giant field. The wind was so strong that Celaena closed her eyes, the feeling of being tossed and flipped
about making her sick to her stomach.

She felt solid ground beneath her feet, and the wind and stars faded, and Celaena looked around in a daze.

She was in a wide meadow underneath the thawing stars of spring, the last of the winter snow huddling in clumps.
She didnt feel cold, nor did she really feel most of the elements around her: she simply saw and moved about like a
wraith. Rotating around, she found herself facing a small thatched cottagethe only building in the area. There was a
slender dirt road leading up to it, but, beyond that, it was the only sign of civilization. From what it looked like, a
stable had been build behind the house, along with a fairly large vegetable and herb garden. There was only one light
on in the house, and Celaena approached a flower-boxed window to peer in through the circular panes. There was no
one inside. A rocking chair, hearth, and dark desk stood in one half of the room, while the other was filled with locked
bookcases stuffed with what looked like books and strange artifacts. Whose house was this?

Going around the back, Celaena looked in through the side window. It displayed a solitary bed, a washbasin and
nightstand, and a lightwood dresser beside a cracked mirror. Confused and lost, she turned the final corner and
stopped in her tracks.

Beyond the stable and the garden, situated beneath a creamy expanse of stars, was a long wooden table, and at it sat
a man she hadnt seen for over a decade.

An empty pewter pitcher lay tipped over on the table, and his glass had the red markings of wine. His hands, covering
his face, dug into his golden-brown hair. She observed his fingers. They were long and delicate, yet filled with a
strength and masculinity that made her straighten up. His shoulders were broad, displaying his slender frame, still
muscular after all the long years. Looking at his pointed ears, she wasnt surprised: Faeimmortal, powerful, and
hauntingly beautiful.

Her lips moved to silently speak his name, her hand grabbing the gossamer fabric around her heart.

Thaelius, she mouthed, and let out a shaky breath. Celaena moved closer to him, unsure of how close she should
get. She took a step back when he dropped his hands and looked up at the sky, revealing his silver eyes and the
straight nose separating his two finely shaped cheekbones. He looked just as had the last time she had laid eyes on
him, if not a little sadder and thinner, though his clothes, once fine and princely, were now worn and in slight need of
repair.

What was he doing out here?

Her heart throbbed and ached as she watched him glare at the sky, and a sick feeling settled in the base of her
throat. Thaelius, she whispered.

And then a strange thing happened.

He heard her.

His head jerked down and he looked around him wildly before freezing. Neither of them dared to move, and Celaena
stood before him, trembling slightly. Was this all a figment of her twisted dreamscape, or was it like her connection
with Dorian? Real, yet unreal? After twelve years, she had nothing that she could say to him. She didnt even know
where to begin. When she ran through her own story in her head, it sounded dumb and half-assed, but it was the only
explanation she had.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, he turned away from her direction and propped his elbows on the table. He
thought she was dead.

Pity and sorrow filled her heart, and Celaena took a step towards him. When had he given up searching for her?
Evaelien and Rhoe had been his dearest friends, and she had been his
A blush crept to her face as she remembered the role he would have played in her life one day. It was strange that
her parents would betroth her to an immortaland then have him be with her for every moment of her life. Would he
have seen her as a woman or as a child? Observing his handsome features, she smiled sadly at him: what a life she
would have had!

Without a sound, he began to rise, gathering his cup and pitcher, and sudden panic filled her veins. He couldnt go!
She wasnt dead, she wasnt dead!

Thaelius took a step towards her, and she couldnt stop herself anymore. Im alive! she screamed at him, throwing
herself upon his chest. She didnt know what or why she was doing this. Im alive! Im alive! She beat her fists
against his green tunic. His eyes went wide with terror, and he threw himself back, falling upon the wet ground.

Who in He he began, and Celaena dropped to the ground beside him.

Aelin, Aelin! She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Its AelinAelin Galathynius!

Ae Thaelius started, but his fear and too much wine took hold of him, and he emptied the contents of his stomach
onto the ground. Celaena, looking at the red and mushy vomit, made a noise of disgust.

His lips were pale and shaking, and he looked around blindly. Are you a ghost? His fear and helplessness made her
relax. At least he had heard her.

Celaena clicked her tongue. I most certainly am not a ghost. Im just as alive as you are! She was surprised at the
ease with which she could talk to himit was as if a day hadnt passed.

Why is that?

Then why cant I see you? he got to his feet, staggering a little, and took a seat at the table once more.

I dont knowI think this is some sort of dream for me, or maybe its this weird little thing where

Where are you? He cursed violently, revealing the endearing temper that she had known in her youth. If youre
alive, I dont give a damn how youre doing this, but where are you? He had desperation to his voice that made her
reconsider her decision to speak. Suddenly, she was a child again, feeling very foolish and quite sorry for whatever
bad things she had done.

Im, uh, Im inWell, I am some place far away!

Where? he said with a ferocity that made her bite down on her lip.

Far away.

His brows lowered in a snarl. What. Country. Are. You. In.

There was a sharp breeze, and Celaena saw a dark cloud coming towards her. Without being told, she knew what it
meant.

I dont have time to explain, but listen to me, Thaelius. Im alive, and I am well, and I will be returning to Renaril
within a month or so. The wind grabbed her, and was dragging her back. She struggled against it. Thaelius, find
Arobynn Hamelfind him and he will tell you everything! Tell him who you are and how you met me! Go to Renaril
and find Arobynn Hamel!

He stood up and called something into the air, but his words were lost in the screaming wind that carried her away.
She watched his body fade into the map of the land, and gave in to whatever force held her captive.

Thaelius, not wasting any time, ran into the house and dunked his head in his washbasin. He checked the mirror to
make sure he was still all in one piece, and then ran to the kitchen to peer out the window at the table.

No one was there.

Had he just passed out and had a strange dream? His keen eyes looked at the red vomit on the ground, and he
remembered the familiar noise of disgust.

No, no, it hadnt been a dream. It couldnt have been a drunken vision.

Arobynn Hamel, Arobynn Hamel.

He ran to a piece of paper and wrote down the mans name and location. If it were a dream, none of it would be true.
But if it wasnt, then

Thaeliuss knees began to shake, and he had to sit down at the kitchen table.

Alive!

Aelin Galathynius, his queen and betrothedalive! After these long years spent hiding in exileafter the conquest of
this continent and destruction of magickshe was still alive and capable of using her bloodlines power!

It was too much, it was all too much.

He put his hands over his ears and pushed against his skull, his head trapped in a vice. His heart was beating so
rapidly that he thought he would vomit again; and all the past miseries and hopeless years seemed to flash before his
eyes. Where had she hidden? And why now? Why not ten years ago? Five years ago?

Hot tears began to leak from his eyes, and his lips pulled back in a sob of frustration and joy.

He would leave tomorrow, he decided once he had calmed himself. He would leave tomorrow and travel to Renaril and
hunt down this man. If he was real, and could tell him something useful about her, he would send out messages to all
of Trasiens former court, and then

Thaelius sat up, his back straight and chin held high. The future opened up before him once again, and his pointed
ears were sharp in defiance.

And then the Opal Tower will burn once more.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena bolted awake in Cindrillions chair, the kitchen completely dark. What a strange dream! Had it been real?
Standing up and stretching, Celaena found her clothes to be pleasantly dry.

It had to be realbut how had it happened? Maeve? Something else? She shook her head, and with a sigh she headed
towards her bedroom, wondering what series of events she might have just triggered.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 19

It was cold and raining, and the mud between her toes let out a loud squelch as Celaena Sardothien felt herself sink
even deeper into the hillside. The pouring rain beat down on her helmet, tap-tap-tapping in between Raonns shouts
of command. Goldryn was slippery and heavy in her hands, and the massive bronze shield that she held across her
left arm seemed to have found itself a permanent place in the mud.

Every step was impossibleit took all her energy just to remove one foot from the calf-deep mud, and as soon as she
had put it back down, it sunk in once again. Her armor weighed nearly as much as she did, and was so restrictive to
her movements that Celaena could barely bend over to yank her circular shield from the mud. Her body was so sore
that she felt as if she might die; and Celaena looked down to see that the several cuts running across her hands and
forearms were still bleeding.

Raonn was barking something, but the assassin was so busy trying to keep herself from falling flat on her face that
she missed his directions.

Which was probably a mistake.

Unable to properly see past the gold nosepiece of her helmet, Celaena stepped in a large hole (which had now become
a puddle) that caused her entire right side to sink hip-deep into muddy water. Losing her balance, her left knee
twisted painfully as the mud fought to keep it down, and Celaena completely let go of her shield and Goldryn as she
collapsed onto her right side. Mud oozed in through the cheek guards of her helmet, and her head throbbed in unison
with her left knee.

Frustration and anger swirled around in a dizzying waltz, and Celaena would have begun screaming had her mouth
not been partially submerged. The rain had now become almost unnoticeable against her numbed skin, and Celaena
could only tell of its presence by its furious knocking on her head. From her right, she could faintly hear laughing, and
Celaena made no effort to remove herself as the noise grew louder. Her one dry eye saw a pair of booted feet and a
short cape appear before her, and a moment later, a hooded, pale face placed itself in front of hers.

Look at the mess that youve gotten yourself into! he laughed louder, but Celaena lay still, wallowing in her fury and
humiliation.

Nothingno crown, no wealth, no glorywas worth this.

Youre not hurt, are you? the Fae Prince inquired, sounding as insincere as a wolf telling a rabbit that it only eats
plants. Celaena didnt reply.

Raonn studied her, his eyes scanning her twisted and dirty form for any signs of immediate injury. Upon finding none,
he straightened his hood (a luxury she wasnt allowed) and cleared his throat. Get up, lets go. Youve still got a good
two miles go to before youre through for the day.

Celaenas hands clenched into fists, but she still refused to move, choosing the feeling of floating twigs and earth
against her face to the agony of training uphill and through the forest during a torrential downpour. Everyone at the
chateau was inside, enjoying the warmth of the fire and fresh bowls of paestiaperhaps Leighanna was playing her
instrument once againtheyd drink and eat and sing, their thoughts far away from the woman trapped in the mud on
a miserably steep hill, preparing for something she didnt even understand.

She heard Raonn click his tongue, and Celaena heard him repeat: Lets go, in a voice that was quickly losing its
patience.

Celaena, knowing his eyes were upon her, closed her open eye and allowed herself to sink even further into the mud,
her free nostril in danger of becoming submerged as well.

Get up, Raonn snapped, and before she could react, she felt his bony hands tighten around her left forearm and
pull. Celaena winced as his hands caused the bronze and leather gauntlet to squeeze and bruise her, but the prince
paid no attention as he placed his free arm around her back to heave her out of the puddle. Celaena did nothing to
help him move her, and she heard him emit a low growl as he realized her intentions.

In a burst of strength, Raonn pulled her so hard that Celaena went flying forward through the air before she landed,
hard, on her left side. Free of the puddle, her face was covered in debris and mud, and Celaena felt her insides churn
with annoyance as her left side began to sink into the soft ground.

She lay like a worm, waiting to sink completely beneath, but Raonn heaved her upwards again and pulled her onto her
belly. With a clank and a burst of pain, Celaenas knee (the same she had just injured in her fall) slammed into her
fallen shield, her greave vibrating from the impact.

Having had enough, the assassin howled in agony and anger, her fury directed at the snickering prince before her.

With every intention of harming him, Celaena pushed and heaved against the mud, her fingers recoiling as the slimy,
thick mud oozed through them. Finally able to get her torso out of the mud, Celaena began to bellow her rage as she
discovered that her armor did not allow for her bottom half to get up in the way that she desired.

She was stuck.

Celaena attempted to pivot her legs into an awkward position, fighting against gravity and the slippery slope, but all
that she could accomplish was a position that made her, especially with the mud, look like a crouching toad.
Celaena kicked and pushed and tried to raise herself, but it seemed as if the more she moved about, the more mud
there was; and therefore Celaena soon reduced herself to screaming and flinging the mud in every direction that she
could.

It wasnt fair! It wasnt fair that she had to endure this! What prince or soldier ever had to do this to prepare for a
war? Not even common soldiers went through this kind of training!

Raonn was laughing again, and Celaena, her knee aching and her skin numb and dripping with mud, felt her muscles
release in despair as she dropped back into the mud once again.

The hill seemed to be a deep shade of emerald green everywhere else except for the path that Raonn was leading her
on, and Celaena swore to herself with growing hatred that she would never speak to him again once she got out of
this mess.

The Fae Prince approached her again, this time kneeling down before her, and Celaena raised her head to look at him.

This is absurd, she said, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. Raonn didnt reply.

Look at me! she exploded. Im halfway to Deaths Door! Ive got cuts all over me, my knee is broken in five places,
I cant feel my skin anymore, my head is throbbing, and this armor is so heavy that my body cant take it anymore! I
want to go inside! Im going to get sick!

Raonn frowned. I dont believe that youre in half as much pain as you think you are. Your knee is not broken in the
least, and as for all of the cuts and bruises on your body He surveyed her again, I think that theyre only minor.

Celaena scowled, but he continued. In regards to your armor, that pain will only be temporary: the stronger you
become, the lighter it will get. It just takes time and practiceand patience.

The assassin opened her mouth to object, but he interrupted. I didnt choose this armor for you, Maeve did. Its for
your own good.

Its the heaviest set in your treasury!

And because of that, the set that you do eventually wear will feel like nothing. No one wears armor like this anymore
its simply not practical. But, so long as youre this out of shape and inexperienced, this armor is perfect for you.

Celaena rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

Raonn stood up, and offered his hand. Youve made it about halfway up the hill thus farwould it help if the rain
stopped until you made it down the other side?

Celaena looked at him with blazing eyes, and the prince shrugged. I didnt summon this rainstorm, but I can give you
some protection from it.

The assassin considered, looking up at the charcoal skies, and then nodded her head.

Raonn muttered a few words to himself, and before Celaena could try to understand them, the tap-tap-tapping on her
helmet had disappeared. She glanced upwards at the sky, and saw with wonder what had happened. The rain was
indeed still falling, but it seemed to be hitting an invisible shield four feet above her head before it ran down in rivers
towards the ground.

She turned her head towards Raonn, who removed his hood and tossed his silvery hair, and gave him a grim smile.

Thank you, she said as she began to push herself up again.

Raonn grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her upwards. Just dont tell Maeve.

Celaena smiled at him again, her feet kicking at the ground as the Fae prince struggled to raise her. Finally, after a
moment of balancing and sinking, Raonn moved her to a firmer part of the hill, and released her.
Celaena removed her helmet, handed it to Raonn, and wiped the mud from her face, her golden hair falling around it,
tangled and dark with dirt and water. She ran a hand across her brow, and shook the gathered mud onto the ground
with violent flicks of her hand. Doing the same with her cheeks, nose, neck, and mouth, Celaena Sardothien soon,
despite the large streaks of mud that remained, felt relatively refreshed.

Grabbing her long hair in both hands, the assassin quickly twisted it into a tight knot before she took her helmet and
placed it down upon her head. Celaena looked at Raonn, ready to continue, but the Fae prince cleared his throat and
jerked his chin in the direction behind her.

Celaena turned and let out a long-winded groan as she saw the shield and Goldryn lying behind her. The shield,
bronze, circular, and covered in a vine motif, lay half-submerged in the mud, while all that was visible of Goldryn was
the ruby pommel and patches of its golden hilt.

Celaena took a step downhill, felt her sandaled feet slip under once again, and felt Raonn grab her shoulder from
behind.

Ill get the shieldyou get the sword.

Celaena shot him a thankful look, and took a step back. The path to Goldryn was much more solid than to the shield.
It was kind of remarkable, she thought to herself, that Raonn was so hesitant to even touch Goldryn.

Hes probably still sour over Maeves rejectionor perhaps hes afraid to lay his hands on it.

The assassin, placing her feet on two sturdy patches of ground, picked up Goldryn with both hands and wiped the hilt.
To her, it was still just a piece of metal with an interesting history. The fact that it was so old and still so preserved
made its meaning even less importantperhaps for the fact that it seemed so improbable. There were a lot of things
in her life that seemed glamorous and magickal, Celaena remarked, yet when she really thought about their
importance to her, they didnt really seem as fantastic as one might think.

Take the Fae for example: everyone seems to think that theyre these sublime, mythical, marvelous creaturesto be
feared and respected and whispered aboutbut the way that I know themthey just seemnormal. Normal because
the lore about them is so incredible that its hard to actually believe it might existso I guess I just take them for
what I see, not for what I hear or expect. Is that bad thing? To be so doubtful that everything loses its glamour? Or is
it a good thing: to be able to see something for what it is, not by what others have told me?

Disillusionment versus practicality, thats what it is. Maybe there is a line between those two where I fall, because as
magickal as things might be, and even as reluctant as I am to participate in them and acknowledge its presence,
magick is just something that Iaccept.

But do I even accept it? I cant deny the feeling of awe when I see magick at work, but I certainly dont feel as
dumbfounded and scared as most people do.

Turning to Raonn, Goldryn dry enough to hold, she saw the Fae prince point at the shield and raise it into the air, mud
dripping off of it as it floated towards him. It wasnt until he glanced at her, shield in hand, that Celaena realized that
she had been gaping. That shield weighed over thirty poundsand he had lifted it into the air as if it were nothing!

So maybe magick is still an amazing thing for me. I dont understand it, nor do I really wish to understand it, but Im
certainly not af

You look as if youre going to run down the hillside screaming, Raonn smirked.

Celaena blinked, and shook her head. It was difficult to hear him with the helmet on, but her cheeks flushed
nonetheless.

Perhaps my feelings towards magick are just the same as everyone elses.

Raonn laughed and handed her the shield. Forgetting its weight, Celaena nearly dropped it as she slipped her arm
between the two straps, her fingers grasping the metal handle tightly. Goldryn, while a fraction of the weight, seemed
to have a mind of its own, and as Celaenas left side dropped downwards, the sword swung about in the air so wildly
that it threatened to fly from her fingers.
Celaena took a step outwards to widen her stance, and upon regaining her balance, she rose to her full height and
faced Raonn.

I hope that you have finished with flailing about, he said, and Celaena, had she not had both hands full of heavy
objects, would have smacked him across the face. Raonn ignored her barred teeth, and went on: Let me remind you
what youre supposed to be doing. Youre going up this hill and down, sword and shield in hand as if you were running
towards a battlefield. Go as fast as you can, try not to break your neck, and Ill meet you at the bottom.

Raonn began to sprint up the hill, his feet light against the mud, and Celaena felt a splash of rain fall upon her helmet.

What about the rain? she yelled after him, and the prince stopped.

The shield will follow me around, not you, he called down from where he now stood, so if you hope to have that
shield around you until you reach the bottom, I suggest that you keep up!

With that, he began to run uphill once more, and the rain suddenly reassumed its former role of Torturer. Celaena,
hoisting the shield up and grasping Goldryn tightly, took a deep breath and began to run as fast as she could, her
armor clanking and objecting.

The hill was so steep that Celaena had to keep herself low to the ground to prevent from falling backwards from the
weight of her armor, and as hard as the tried to pace herself, the assassin was exhausted by the time she had run
another quarter of the hill. Her legs could barely hold her up, and her arms were so tried that they now dangled at her
sides, her weapons almost dragging in the ground.

She discovered that the best way to deal with the mud was to stand in place for as short as possible, which
unfortunately meant that she either had the choice of running as fast as she could or getting stuck once again.

She developed a pattern in her mind, a rhyme that she chanted over and over again to keep herself from sinking
downwards: Feet up, feet down, feet up, feet down, feet up, feet down On and on Celaena repeated this mantra,
and soon her breathing began to resemble the beat. Not only did she manage to keep herself from getting stuck, she
managed to find a way to control her breathing so that getting to the top of the hill was accomplished in a less
draining manner.

Upon reaching the top, Celaena went to wipe the mud from her face, but found that it was miraculously dry: all that
remained were streaks of cracked dirt, which fell from her as soon as she scratched them away. Somehow, by some
unprecedented feat of strength and speed, she had managed to remain within Raonns shield!

Aha! Aha aha! Out of shape indeed!

Celaena, spotting the prince at the bottom, waved, and felt a smile of satisfaction as she saw his surprised look. Not
wasting any more time, the assassin grasped her sword and shield tighter and began the descent, leaning back to
prevent herself from tumbling.

While going down the hill as much faster and lighter, it was, by no means, easier. It required more balance and more
careful thought as to where she could plant her feet, and thought it took her a quarter of the amount of time it took to
get up the hill, her nerves were much more strained. Every step might have been a potential fall, and while Raonns
shield kept the rain from her path, the hillside, including the patches of grass, was still incredibly slick. Often, she
would plant her feet into a bit of mud and would then experience the terrifying feeling of sliding downwards. She
would then stick Goldryn into the mud, clinging to it as her body stopped its descent and her feet found firmer
ground.

By the time Celaena neared the bottom, she was so relieved to be done that she ran down the rest of the way, her
weight propelling her to a speed that almost resembled flying. Her feet barely touched the mud, and Celaena laughed
aloud as she hit flat ground, tossing her shield from her and hurling Goldryn into the air.

Running off the speed, Celaena slowed to a stop and found herself face to face with Raonn, who had his hands on his
hips.

Why did you do that?

Do what? Celaena replied, wondering why he already looked so sour. She removed her helmet and dropped it on the
ground, running her hand through her drying hair to remove any excess dirt and mud.

Toss aside your weaponsyouve still got a mile and a half of woods to cross before we get back to Doranelle.

Celaena gaped at him, incredulous.

I need a break!

In war, there are no breaks. If you had chosen to use magick, it would be a lot easier for you.

Well, for one, I dont want to use magick at the moment. And, secondly, were not in war, so Im entitled to
rejuvenate before Im forced to run once more.

Raonn glared at her, furious. Dont you understand? Youre preparing for situations in which you will not have any
breaks! If you pamper yourself now, youll suffer later! Why cant you comprehend that? Are you that thick-headed?

Celaena straightened, her brows lowering. I understand what youre trying to do, and Im trying to tell you that I will
never be in this kind of a situation!

Raonn laughed with spite. Im sure thats what youll be preaching when you and your army are lined up in rows,
spikes through your severed heads as the enemy carries you back to their camp for a victory celebration.

Thats impossible.

You are impossible: you cant fathom the idea that right now is the only time that you have to prepare for what lies
ahead for you! The moment you return home to Adarlan, you will not have this opportunity any more! You will be
unprepared, untrained, and you and your idiot human friends will lead your entire continent into a state of massacre
and disaster! Is that what you really wish for yourself and your country? Or as you just as selfish as every other
human in the worldthinking only of the time present: what you want, what you can and cant do, what you dont feel
like doing!

Im not selfish, Celaena said sullenly, crossing her arms with a loud clash of bronze.

Youre not selfish? Raonn seemed to be beside himself. Celaena, uncomfortable, wondered how he had gone from
civilized conversation to pure assault. She hated to be yelled at, especially criticized, and she looked away from him
as he continued.

You expect me to believe that your refusal to learn that is necessary to save your country isnt selfish? You cant go
through five hours of pain to save your people, who have been suffering for fifteen years? You mean to tell me that
you arent selfish? If anything in the world, Aelin Galathynius, you are the most selfish person that has ever existed!

Celaena whipped her head around to look at him, but was unable to reply. Her heart was pounding quickly in her
chest, and her throat was tight with restrained anger. She heard Arobynn Hamels words from long ago, words that
she knew had been used to manipulate her fear and power, words that caused her to stray so far from the path that
fate had chosen for her. He had told her that if she were to return to Trasiens court, more would die, and that she
would be held responsible, just as she was responsible for her uncle and parents.

If you arent selfish, then prove it, he said. Prove it to me and to Maeve and to your people that you would be
willing to go through all of this so that their land, your land, might be free once more.

She could hear her blood pumping in her ears, and each word that came from his mouth caused her veins to tingle.
She didnt know if she thought that she was responsible for their deathsshe had done nothing wrong, save for her
outburst at dinner the night before.

Pick up your shield and your sword, he snapped.

The King of Adarlan had been therein Orynthvisiting her uncle. She had seen something, something so terrifying
and horrible that she had made a spectacle that resulted in her fainting before the entire court. Her parents had taken
her home immediately, taking their carriage all night back to their country estate. And then the following night
Selfish?

Celaena didnt move. She didnt know if she would hurl herself at him or walk away from him if she allowed her limbs
to start moving once more. Everything seemed to be pulsing inside of her, and she felt a strange, chill pressure
expanding just behind her eyes.

Pick. Them. Up.

Celaena watched him silently, wondering what right he had to speak to her in such a fashion, hating him for speaking
words that made her so ashamed that she could only react with anger, waiting for him to make one move, make one
step towards her so that she could rip his head from his shoulders.

PICK THEM UP! He bellowed at her so violently that waves of violent strength surged through her so wildly that she
ran back to the shield and Goldryn, and donned them with every intention of cutting the prince into pieces. A vicious
snarl escaped from her throat, and all that the assassin could hear was the chilling, pulsing sound in her ears as she
hurled herself towards him.

It was only when Celaena was two feet from him that Raonn began to laugh, and Celaena, caught off guard yet again,
skidded to a halt. A smile broke out across his face, and he looked the assassin up and down before laughing again.

Laugh one more time and Ill slice your head off, the feral tone to her voice surprised her, and somewhere in the
back of her mind, Celaena felt another voice telling her to relax.

But the prince kept on laughing, and Celaenas knees bent once again.

Raonn, taking several deep breaths, waved Celaena away.

Tell me one thing, Aelin or Celaena or whoever you are: how do your armor and shield feel right now?

Celaena blinked, and suddenly began to notice the strong, musky smell of the earth, and the faint odor of the trees
Oak? Maple? The entire landscape seemed more detailed, more precise, as if someone had suddenly wiped away a
layer of grime. The assassin looked down at her body, at the shield and sword and the dirty, glistening armor, and felt
with amazement that they were so light that they seemed to be made from paper.

What have you done to me? she asked in a low voice, and Celaena cleared her throat, unsure of why everything
sounded so different.

What have I done to you? I think your question should be: what have you done to yourself? Raonn chucked, and
Celaena looked at the hand holding Goldryn: it was longer, the fingers leaner and the nails sharp.

Oh, no

She ran her tongue, more sensitive now to the lingering taste of mud in her mouth, over her front teeth, and almost
bit down in shock when she found that her canines had sharpened and extended themselves an eighth of an inch
longer.

How did it happen? When did it happen?

So, Raonn said, walking around her to conduct yet another survey. This is what Aelin the Fae looks like.

Celaena frowned. Make it go back to Aelin the Human.

Raonn shrugged and twirled a piece of hair around a finger. Only you can do thatand what is the point? It must be
much easier bearing that heavy load in this form, correct? Why go back to suffering when you can get through today
with an easier burden?

Because its unnatural, thats why!

Unnatural? Raonn took a step towards her, so close that she could smell his scent for the first time: light, fresh, with
an electricity that reminded her of lightning. His face came close to her pointed ear, and Celaena felt her body
trembling from the effort of remaining still.

This, princess, he hissed into her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck, is the most natural form in the world. Your
preferred form, as you might already know, is unnatural: humans were created by an experiment gone wrong we are
the ones who are pure, we are what your body really desires.

Celaenas arms were tingling, and she waited for a touch, any kind of touch, that might put her at ease.

But none came. Raonn took a step back and stared into her eyes.

In that moment, Celaena felt more exposed than she had the first time she had met the princenaked and
sunbathing. It seemed to her that his gray gaze pierced through all the levels inside of her, until he looked upon
something within that was so raw, so wild and precious and glowing that Celaenas breath caught in her throat.

She had no idea what he was doing, nor what she was expected to do, and Celaena found herself shaking once more.

Dont fret, Raonn said softly, you may look.

Celaena had no idea what he was talking about, and a smile broke out across his face. Look into my eyes, just as you
are doing now, and find the thread that will lead you inside. He sounded so serious and unusually gentle!

Celaena thought about laughing, but she maintained a straight face and continued to hold his stare. His eyes were not
just a single shade of gray, but rather an assortment of shades: quicksilver, pewter, iron, ash, lead, charcoal, and

A spark of wonder went through her as Celaenas eyes fell upon the small rivers of gold that lay around his pupil.
While not nearly as large as her own, there was a familiarity in them, in the way that they seemed to leak from
within, that made Celaena suddenly feel what Raonn was describing.

From her chest, from way inside her ribs, there seemed to be a line of pressure that went up her throat and into her
eyes, and from there, that line seemed to flow into his, downwards and downwards, past reds and blacks and pinks
until

Celaena felt a jolt of shock as she beheld what lay behind those rivulets of gold: a web. At first she seemed to behold
a simple, silver cobweb suspended in a sea of black, but as she looked closer, it became clear that this web was so
tightly woven together with so many strings that it would be impossible to look at everything.

The rope she had descended upon seemed to flow into the outer layers of the web, and so Celaena, slowly, carefully,
followed it and found strings forged with anger and coldness, some so hot that she was afraid she would be burned,
some frozen so that she could practically see the icicles dripping from them.

Unable to bear them, Celaena moved inwards and found that several of these strands, as they went towards the
center, were filled with sorrow: sorrow and loneliness that, even as she examined them, Celaena felt overwhelm her.
Was this what he bore inside of him? This kind of grief? Over what?

Celaena, afraid to remain in this area for too long, moved closer inside, wherein lay throbbing and glistening strands
of bravery, loyalty, and determination. Looking back, Celaena realized how these strands were a direct result of the
ones she had countered before. Curiosity fueling her onwards, Celaena turned her attention to the approaching
center, which seemed to glow more and more as she neared.

White light rebounded off of the gossamer threads, swirling and pulsating like a galaxy, churning in a cycle
predetermined by powers far beyond either the prince or herself. She moved closer, but felt a sudden force push her
back.

This was taboothis thread could not be approached. Watching the light move around the center, Celaena understood
that here lay his power, here lay the core of his being, here lay something that no one, save for Raonn himself, could
touch. It took her some time to realize that she was actually observing magickthat this was what flowed inside her
and Raonn and Maeve and all the other magick users in the world: this was the force that had caused her so much
grief and worry, this was what she had to acknowledge.
It was beautiful, more beautiful than anything she had ever seen before: it was alive within him, an organism that had
its own characteristics and talents.

Celaena Sardothien watched its light show for some time, wondering if that was what Raonn beheld inside of her, and
then drew herself away. She passed the strands of bravery and loyalty, but stopped once again as she passed by
those sorrowful strands that seemed to have an allure all their own.

There were so many of themfar more than any other kind of threadand Celaena felt herself push beyond the rope
and lay her mind upon the string closest to her.

Images sprung into her head: a beautiful brick house, nestled in the woods, at the base of a mountain range, a young
boyten or eleven playing outside, ordering ants to march about collecting leaves and twigs for a castle. Though his
hair was short and silver, his face free of tattoos, Celaena knew that this was Raonn as a child.

Sounds fill the air: metal and marchingthe sounds of a large force approaching the estate. Two people appear
outside: a silver-haired man and a dark-haired woman, both Fae, who rush to Raonns side. As a trumpet blares and
the din grows even louder, the woman, his mother, begins to yell at him to hide inside. Raonn looks at his father,
confused, and the Fae man repeats what his mother said.

He is told to go into the house and wait for themif anything bad happens, he is to change into his favorite form (a
bird) and fly to his cousins house fifty miles South. If they arent there, he is to go to their next relatives house,
about a hundred miles away. And should they not be there as well, he is to hide himselfas a birdon a ship and
head to Wendlyn, the land of his great Aunt, the Fae Queen Maeve. She will know of his arrival, and he need not fear
anything once he arrives on her shores. It is only when he is in her care that he may transform back into his Fae form
unless he meets his relatives before.

Raonn begins to cry, but his mother screams at him to get inside. He runs, locks the door, and watches from the
window, partially hidden by a curtain, as the army arrives. They bear the banner of Adarlan, and as they pull to a
stop, his mother and father approach the man at the front.

They appear to be in conversation, but then theres a flash of silver and

Celaena felt herself propelled backwards so fast that before she could get a hold of the situation, she found that she
was staring at the Fae princes face once more.

That string, Raonn said quietly, is not meant to be plucked.

Celaena broke his gaze and looked awayin the far distance, far beyond normal vision, she could see three hawks
circling above the forest. Im sorry, she apologized, and Raonn snorted.

Dont think of it. What did you think of your first excursion into one of the many levels of Fae communication?

Celaena looked at him again, surprised that he was being so pleasant when she had undoubtedly touched on a subject
that he avoided more than anything.

She felt flashes of pity for him: that was why he was this wayAdarlans army had murdered his parents, and he had
fled across the country and to Wendlyn. But why? Because they were Fae? Had he been a part of the Fae exile and
annihilation that had spread across Adarlan twenty years ago?

It was, she began, unable to find the words, different. Scary, but also wonderful.

Is that in regards to what you found or to what you experienced?

I was referring to the process of actually looking at someones core. In terms of you, I think that that experience was
a bit

You dont need to tell me what you thought. Fae may see whats inside of you, but we keep our opinions about it to
ourselves out of respect.
Celaena nodded, but couldnt stop herself. If you didnt want me to see what you had inside of you, why did you ask
me to look?

Because I felt that if I was going to look at you, you might as well have a chance to look at me.

The assassin raised an eyebrow, curious. What did you find inside of me?

Raonn laughed. So I guess that youve decided to cling to your mortal characteristics.

Celaena smiled sheepishly.

I found a lot of things, Raonn said, his voice soft once more, a lot of things I didnt expect, and a few things that I
did expect.

What a diplomatic answer!

Do you really wish me to tell you what I saw in your innermost chambers of being?

Celaena nodded.

Raonn sighed. I saw fearso mixed with of sorrow and anger that I couldnt tell which emotion was the dominant
one. He stopped, thought, and continued. I also saw bravery, a bit of loyalty, more wisdom than I would have
imagined, determination, humor, a passion for learning and knowledge.

But I suppose that the thing that surprised me the most was how, despite all of the fear and anger and sorrow, there
was so much love.

Celaena felt her brows contract in disbelief.

Love for others, love for mankind, love for people you dont even know, but out of principle and ideals, you do love,
love for the beauty of the earth and the accomplishments of your race, love for peace, and, more than anything else,
a love for the ideal world that you so ardently wish to make a reality.

Celaena grinned. How did you manage to pick up all of that while I was only able to touch on basic feelings?

Raonn ran a finger along his facial tattoos. There are a few reasons. The first being that youre inexperienced and
need time to learn how to pick out more details. The second is that perhaps my insides arent as complex as yours. I
know for a fact that my innermost corethe white glowing orb that you sawis not as large as yours, not even
close.

What does that mean? Celaena felt her stomach twist in anxiety.

It means that your magick, when unleashed, is probably greater than mine. It also means that youve got something
within you that marks you as different, as chosen. All of your complex threads lead to that core, and perhaps that is
why it is so greatan idea that leads to the thought that your past, as horrible as it is, was actually meant to be.

Celaena frowned. You mean to tell me that I was meant to be an assassin so my core would bebigger?

Sometimes strong emotions and experiences lead to strong magickal powers, especially if the person is already gifted
in the way that you are.

She could not remove her frown from her face, and the assassin let out a sigh of frustration as she ran her hands
through her sticky, chunky hair. Basically, youre trying to tell me that because of my mixed bloodlines, no one really
knows for sure why Im the way I am, right?

Raonn chuckled. Maeves told you that several times, I take it?

She nodded.
Well, I suppose that there is a downside and an upside to that. The downside being that you have to discover your
power and your characteristics on your own, but the positive being that you at least have the satisfaction of knowing
that there is absolutely no one else like you in the world, which can make you feel either incredibly lonely or incredibly
arrogant.

So there is pretty much nothing all that positive about being the way I am. Around them, the rain had lightened,
and Celaena watched it slide down the shield.

Raonn shrugged. I would rather be the only one of my kind than the same as everyone else. Its something that
people dream of everydayits enviable to be the way you are.

Celaena clicked her tongue. For someone as irritating and condescending as you, you seem to have a fair amount of
wisdom stored away.

Raonn tossed his hair. Perhaps if you spent more time as a Fae woman, you might eventually become as wise as I
am.

She stuck out her tongue, and placed her hair behind her pointed ears. It felt strange to have an extra bit of skin, and
as graceful as her limbs now were, her fingers stumbled around the pointed arch.

I like this form more, Raonn said with a sneer. It suits you better. When youre a human, everything you do looks
clumsy and thick.

How kind, Celaena said dryly.

Raonn looked at the sky, and grinned. Its stopped raining. Lets say you and I finish this miserable day of ours and
send you back to your ridiculous chateau before it begins to pour again.

Celaena didnt look pleased. The prospect of running didnt appeal to her, even as a Fae.

Arent you curious about how fast you can run?

Celaena shook her head.

Or about how easily you can bare the weight? He tucked his hair behind his pointed ears and straightened out his
cloak, resuming the aloof air that she had come to expect.

Celaena rolled her eyes.

Or about why you cant, even as a Fae, detect that Im about to hit you in the face?

Before she could even look at him, there was a loud SMACK! followed by a burst of pain along her right cheek.
Celaena let out a cry of shock and anger, and saw him darting away at top speed. Grabbing her shield and slamming
her helmet down upon her head, Celaena charged after Raonn, the ground passing quickly beneath her feet

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael stared at the room around him, the corners of his mouth slightly lowered, before turning back to
Arobynn Hamel.

This was actually her apartment?

The king of assassins nodded, moving towards a sheet-covered mound, which he pulled downwards in an explosion of
dust to reveal a burgundy velvet chair and footstool.

Of course, no one has been in here for about three years, so you might have a bit of dusting to do before you can
settle in.

Chaols stomach felt queasy.

He had never interacted with criminals in this manner before, let alone participated in an act of treason. All had gone
smoothlyhe had sent a message to the King of Adarlan, rather than taking the risk of asking him face to face, and
had temporarily appointed Sorin, the man who had accompanied Celaena to the bank, to his position. Within an hour
of dispatching the note, Chaol was gonehis horse galloping out of the city, laden with bags, to only stop a mile
outside, circle back, and enter into Renaril through one of the smaller, unnoticed gates.

From the moment his shaking hands had written the letter to the moment he had stalked through the backstreets of
Adarlan, carefully following the assassins directions, Chaol had felt like he was going to vomit. Even now, safe within
Celaenas Sardothiens old apartment, the Captain of the Guards still felt sick.

Had Arobynn Hamel been a typical criminal, his nerves would have eased. But the fact that the man before him was
well dressed, articulate, and intelligent made him even more wary of his company. He could see where Celaena had
received all of her habits from, but the fact that the killer inside of this man was so well concealed made the assassin
just as lethal as his protg.

If you like, I can take your horse back to my stableshould you need it, just send a message to me, the assassin
stopped and fished around in the pocket of his emerald satin coat. Chaol admired the parallel lines of golden buttons
that ran down the front of his coat, each engraved with a different iconsome were animals, others were objects, and
even more of them were odd symbols that Chaol didnt recognize.

The mans long red hair was tied back with a ribbon, the streaks of silver displayed unabashedly. Though his face was
scarred, and his nose crooked, he maintained an air of aristocratic grace and pride that made even the golden hoop
through his ear look fashionable.

The captain of the guard waited until the assassin had finished his search, and then stared at the object the man had
removed: the golden key that he had used to enter the apartment.

This, as Im sure youre smart enough to tell, is the key to this house. Theres only one doorthe one behind you
and this is the only key I have for itso I would suggest that you do your best not to lose it.

Chaol nodded and carefully took the key from the mans outstretched hand.

Arobynn looked around, and frowned. Lord Wydrael, he said again, his voice dropping into a quieter tone, while this
apartment is in the slums of Renaril, I would suggest that you leave as infrequently as possible. Your king has spies
everywhere, and you would be fortunate to have arrived here undetected.

Chaol felt sick again.

I think, to be safe, it would be wise if I actually sold your horse at the next market. I can get a decent replacement,
but it would be disastrous if someone saw your horse in my stable and discovered our, he paused, situation.

Chaol glanced down at his bags, and looked out across the apartment. It was large enough for him to not feel
trapped, but the prospect of being under willing house arrest made his nerves fray even more.

Arobynn smiled, displaying his two rows of crooked teeth. I will be back to check on you in two days: there is enough
food and drink in the kitchen, but, again, should you need anything or have any kind of emergency, send a message
the way I told you to.

Chaol nodded once more, and took a deep breath.

Thank you for all your help, he said, trying to control the rising sense of awkwardness, Im sure that Celaena will
bepleased to hear about this.

Arobynn shot Chaol a skeptical look. Well be lucky, boy, if she even gets back to this country alive.

The Captain of the Guard frowned for many reasons, but chose to shrug his shoulders rather than reply.

Arobynn headed towards the door, but then stopped and turned around. So your prince and my assassin areclose?
A grin spread across the mans face, and a twinkle came into his gray eyes.
Chaol smiled weakly. I suppose so, yes, he said dumbly.

But, the man continued, youre the one in this situation.

Im afraid I dont understand.

Arobynn chuckled. If the princeling and Celaena are heavily involved with each other, then why did the King of
Adarlan think that you were the one closest to her?

Chaol felt a rush of memories turn themselves into a rising blush, and he shook his head. While she was here,
Celaena and I became good friends. He felt embarrassed and sick, and all that Chaol really wanted to do was lay
down and take a long nap.

Arobynn laughed loudly. It seems like my little assassin made quite a few friends while in the palace!

Chaol stiffened. Sir, I think that you are incredibly ou

Oh, calm yourself! Arobynn patted Chaol on the shoulder, causing nearly all of his nerves to ready themselves for
assault. We both know that shes a wonderful woman, and clearly your Crown Prince does as well! The assassin
removed his hand from Chaols shoulder and stood in the doorway.

But, if you ask me, I cant help but wonder if darling Celaena chose the right man, hmm?

With that, Arobynn winked and closed the door behind him, his laughter audible as he went down the two flights of
wooden stairs and out of the building.

Chaol stood in the entryway for a moment, staring at the room around him once again. It was covered in white
sheets, and while the curtains of one window were drawn, he felt an eerie feeling creep along his arms.

Clearing his throat, he moved to the closest sheet and pulled if off, revealing a high and narrow dark wood table
beside the door. On the table still lay a blue ceramic bowl, filled with keys and notesodds and ends that Celaena
probably had removed from her coat as she came in the door. Chaol moved closer to the bowl and looked in. There
were two key rings, both filled with keys of all shapes and sizes.

What in hell did she need all of these for?

Chaol picked up a folded note and carefully opened it. On it, written in hasty, poor handwriting read:

Reminder: pick up (incomprehensible word) from (another jibberish word) Market.

Chaol smiled to himself, and picked up another one.

Things to do:

Go home and sort through weaponsthrow away the bad ones!

Eat lunch

Count gold in secret hiding places

Clean bedroom

Bathe

Was it actually possible that Celaenas life, however gory and miserable, had some resemblance of an ordinary
existence? Chaol chuckled as he saw the drawings written on the To Do note: stars, her initials, a terrible attempt at
a portrait of Arobynn

Undoubtedly, Celaena had written this during a meetingperhaps one with other assassins.
Deciding to leave the notes for another time, Chaol moved to the other side of the door, unmasking another table
the twin of the one with the noteson which a few books had been placed. He looked at the titles, didnt recognize
any, and tossed the sheet onto the pile that was beginning to build. He moved from the table to what were
undoubtedly two bookcases that lined the corner of the room, and as he pulled down the sheet, he fell into a coughing
fit when particles of dust clogged in his throat.

There were few things other than books on the dark shelves: a terracotta idol of Daeanna, a silver cup, a glass vase,
and a figure of a dancing woman. Chaol looked over the titles of the books, and was surprised to find how many he
had actually read. There were a few that were foreign to him, and a few that actually had foreign writing, but it
seemed as if the assassin had built herself a library of books one by one.

Upon removing the sheet from the massive, dark wood table that lay on the left side of the room, Chaol was surprised
to see the finery that lay there: twelve chairs, each place set with an off-white porcelain plate, upon which lay a
scalloped border of cobalt blue and gold flake. In the center of each of these plates lay an image: some were of
peacocks, some were of dancing maidens clad in light robes of gossamer and jewels, some of exotic flowersthey
seemed to depict a few characteristics of a country far away.

The cups were goldtheir stems long and narrow and their bowls so round that, had it not been for the top, they
would have completed an oval. There was nothing engraved upon these cups: the metal was so fine that it didnt need
any further embellishment.

The silverware, however, was a different story. Around the edge of each silver fork, spoon, and knife, lay a border of
roses and flowers so lush and full that they could have been real.

How did she ever afford this?

The table cloth was a deep blue, embroidered with swirls and designs of shimmering silver threadjust like that of the
platesand, upon feeling it, Chaol could tell that this was pure silk.

Here was a table set for a king! It could have easily been found in the palace, though the Captain of the Guard
doubted that the King of Adarlan would approve of a table set in Wendlyns colors.

Chaol uncovered the serving table against the wall: while it was of the same dark wood as the others, its design was
much less ornate. Walking straight past the dining table and the serving table, Chaol reached the first of the three
massive windows in the living and dining room and pulled back the curtains. Though the middle window, its curtains
left open, had provided lots of light, this one caused a wave of light to pour in so brightly that he found himself
blinking several times. Through the unwashed, floor-to-ceiling windows, he saw an attractive view of the city before
the sparkling palace. Frowning, Chaol turned around to survey the room once more.

Everything was so still, so stagnant that it seemed as if time had passed by this place for the past three years.
Increasingly disturbed by the silence, he moved quickly to uncover the rest of the furniture in the house.

Her kitchen was large, with high ceilings and walls that were painted a cream color, and a white tiled floor that
seemed to match the glass and wood cabinets that lined every wall. On a table in the middle sat what appeared to be
his food for the next few days: vegetables, breads, cheeses, fruits, bottles of wine and liquor

Chaol moved to the stone-encompassed cooling cabinet and opened the porcelain door. A rare luxury even amongst
the upper class, the cabinet was no larger than three by three yards, and was covered on five sides with thick, gray
stones that not only contained coldness, but also managed to remain at a temperature at which meat, dairy, and
other perishable items could stay fresh and sanitary. The inside consisted of four selves: the upper and lower were
reserved for thick blocks of ice, and the ones in between held whatever goods you could fit. In the palace, they had
several, massive cooling cabinets, but they also relied upon the most common form of refrigeration: keeping
perishable food in a chilled cellar deep beneath the ground.

Chaol peered into the cabinet and found a good supply of pre-cooked meats, milk, and eggs.

Suddenly confused, Chaol closed the cabinet, stood up and faced the stove, whose smooth surface was covered by
half a dozen pots and pans.

Was he expected to cook on his own, or was Arobynn to send for a cook?
Chaol looked at the rack of spices that was still clamped on the wall and then looked in through the glass doors of the
cabinets that hung above the polished wood counters. Everything seemed to be arranged for him to prepare his own
meals.

He had cooked for himself only a few times in his life, mainly when caught on the road with no town in sight, but that
had consisted of simply roasting an animal over a campfire. Here, it seemed like he actually was expected to make full
meals for himself!

Chaol scanned the kitchen for any signs of something that might save him from starvation: a recipe book, notes

Grinding his teeth, the Captain of the Guard found nothing.

Deciding to deal with the matter later, Chaol ripped a hunk of soft bread off of a dark loaf and continued with his
unveiling of Sardothiens home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It wasnt until nightfall that he managed to gather all of the sheets and stuff them in a large closet filled with coats
and cloaks of all sorts. Hungry and afraid to even light the stove, Chaols dinner consisted of the rest of that dark,
delicious bread, some pre-grilled poultry, a few carrots, and a large green apple. He was uncomfortable with sitting at
the grand dining table, so he ate at the small wooden one that lay in the center of the kitchen.

Candles and lamps glowed across the apartment, and as Chaol left the kitchen once again with a glass of wine in
hand, he was surprised to find the assassins home to be warm and inviting. Even the city lights that glittered outside
the (still unwashed) windows brought a small smile to his face. Walking through the living room and into Celaenas
large bedroom, he picked up the book he had selected for himself and sat down on the couch placed before the
marble fireplace, setting his wine down on the glass table beside him.

It had taken him forever to light four of the five fireplaces in the house (he had left the guest bedroom unlit), but they
did more than their job in keeping out the cold night air of spring.

Opening the book, the Captain of the Guard kicked off his knee-high boots and leaned back, unbuttoning the top of
his surcoat. He scanned a few lines, took a sip of wine, scanned them again, and found himself unable to concentrate.

What if someone had followed him? What if Dorian was attacked? Would he be hung for lying to his king? Would
Dorian be punished as well?

Putting the book down, Chaol ran a hand through his brown hair and looked at the mantelpiece before him. There
were a few more books (she must have had hundreds in the house), but aside from that, all that lay on the long white
shelf was a nondescript aged, wooden box, its only interesting feature being that its golden keyhole was larger than it
should have been. He stood up and approached the box, gingerly picking it up to examine it. Inside, an object seemed
to be shifting around: heavy and clunkya long object.

Chaol tried to open the box, but found that it was locked. Setting it down again, he examined the massive keyhole
that seemed to take up the majority of the front. His curiosity rising, he quickly left the room and reappeared with all
of the key rings that Celaena had kept by the door.

He looked through the first key ring and tried a few that could have matched, but didnt fit. Picking up the second
ring, he tried all of them, each being as useless as the next. He returned to the first assortment and tried them all this
time. Again, no luck.

Frustrated, Chaol sat down and let out a sigh. What was the point of even being in her apartment if he couldnt look
around?

He moved over, something sharp digging into his thigh. He felt the couch and found nothing. He felt inside his jacket
for any daggers that he might have forgotten to remove along with his sword. Nothing.

Patting himself down, Chaols hands hit something hard and sharp in his pocket. Pulling it forth, he found that it was
the key to the apartment. He frowned, but then immediately stood up, grabbing the box in one hand as he easily
slipped the apartment key into the lock. He twisted it, a click echoed over the crackling fire. A grin spread across his
face as he set the box and the key down and lifted the lid.
Another key lay inside.

He blinked, lifted the key out of the box, felt around to make sure that this was the only compartment, and then held
the tiny brass key in the air.

What was this to?

Chaol looked around for any other similar boxes in the room, but found none. He went into the bathroom and found a
boxbut it was unlocked and only contained what seemed to be an abundance of powders and rouges.

He went into her bedroom closet, opening every box he could find, and only found jewelry, scarves, and odds and
ends. Spying a group of large boxes against the far wall, Chaol pushed aside the hanging clothes and began to carry
them into the light of her bedroom. They werent very heavy at all, though the amount of dust that coated them could
have easily weighed a pound.

As he moved the third box from the wall, trying to avoid inhaling a clump of dust, he noticed a very curious thing. Two
lines went straight up from the floor to the ceiling.

Chaol put a hand in front of one and felt a small current of air. He pushed against the wall, and felt it move in a bit,
but soon realized that it was locked. His fingers groped along the wall, trying to find a

He let out a gasp of triumph as one of his fingers dropped into what felt like a keyhole. Removing the brass key from
his pocket, Chaol smiled again as he turned it only to hear the click of a springing lock.

A door swung open, its bottom scraping along what sounded like a stone floor. It was pitch black inside, and Chaol
took a step back as he felt a cold breeze sweep past him, carrying the smell of musk and mystery on its back.

The light from the bedroom did not reach into this room.

He quickly grabbed a lantern from the bedroom and returned to the secret chamber, his bare feet recoiling against the
icy floor as he stepped inside. The light revealed little of the room, only an open space, and Chaol turned to the area
by the door and found two brackets of torches on either side.

Upon lighting them, he stepped back as flames from other brackets across the room flared to life. A small, yet deep,
incision connected them in the wall, filled with oil that allowed the entire room to be well lit.

Putting his lamp down on the floor, the Captain of the Guard marveled at what he saw.

Displayed across every brick wall were weapons of all shapes and sizes: swords, daggers, arrows, spearsthe list
went on and on. Scattered throughout the room were racks also filled with weapons, clearly not as expensive as the
shining ones on the walls, but each seemed to glisten in the light. Because of the lack of windows, the air in the room
was dry, and Chaol quickly noticed the presence of dampness-absorbing herbs in each corner.

This was Adarlans assassin.

The whole room chilled him, throbbing with a power and malice that made his breath catch in his throat. This had
been what she was like at the very height of her power: these were her tools of the trade.

Chaol walked around the room, admiring each weapon in respectful silence, and then came across yet another piece
in Sardothiens odd fascination with treasure hunting.

A small box, just like the one on the mantle. Chaol, sensing her trick before she could fool him again, took forth the
golden apartment key and put it in the lock, flipping open the lid.

But instead of a bronze key, a glass key lay inside. It was completely clear, so clear, in fact, that at first he had
trouble making it out against the dark wood, but as he picked it up, he realized that this key was as strong as any
metal.

Was this a weapon as well?

He scanned the room for any more boxes or hidden doors, but found nothing. Knowing that the torch fire would
eventually die out, he left the weapons room, taking his lantern with him, and swung the door closed behind him.

He opened the boxes that he had dragged out and found that they all contained napkins and dining fabricsnot
hidden treasure or anything of genuine interest.

He checked all of the locks in the house, scanning every wall for any sign of another hidden door, and pretty soon the
clock struck twelve. There were no more secret rooms, no more boxes. He checked beneath every item of furniture
and only found troves of dust balls. He touched every knob on every fireplace, hoping that it would sink into the wall
like in many of the mystery novels he had read, and found that they were painfully ordinary.

Chaol, giving up, returned to Celaenas bedroom and threw himself down on the four-poster bed, looking balefully at
the mirror mounted on the wall behind it. It was identical to the mirror that hung above the fireplace, angled
downwards, pointing towards

Chaol sat up, realizing that the mirrors hadnt meant to show off her performance in bed, but rather

He leapt off the bed and stood in front of the fireplace, observing where the mirrors gaze fell.

A trunk, old and chipping with faded green and pink paint, lay at the foot of the bed, so plain that it had blended into
the surroundings. Both mirrors central object of focus was on this object.

Chaol pulled the glass key from his surcoat and looked at the lock. It didnt look like a match.

Nonetheless, Chaol kneeled down before the chest and put the key inside. Though it fit, he was still afraid that it
would break, so he began to turn it very carefully. He turned it once, no click, twice, no click, and then a third time to
hear a deep thud.

He removed the key and threw open the heavy lid.

It was filled with junk.

Old, yellowed newspapers, most of them clippings, a few old knives, a few pieces of clothing

Chaol picked up one newspaper and read the headline:

SARDOTHIEN STALKS STREETS OF RENARIL WITHOUT CAPTURE!

He peered down at another headline and saw something similar:

VICEROY OF FINNTIERLAND FOUND DEAD IN ALLEY, SARDOTHIEN SUSPECTED

Was this box purely for egos sake? Chaol, grunting, pulled the box around to face the couch, causing the white fur
carpet to bunch up in front of it. Taking a seat and grabbing for his wine, Chaol began to read through the papers,
most of which featured either a headline about an assassination of her own, or an alleged sighting or suspect. They
seemed to be in chronological order: the ones on top dating from the earliest years of her career and going onwards.
Sometimes they would even provide a description of what the authorities believed she looked like. Most of the time, it
was: tall, bearded, thinly built with dark skin.

Chaol found himself laughing as the papers began to get more and more absurd as they approached the last few
months before her capture. But his smile soon faded when the newspapers ran out and he began to question why she
would go to such lengths to hide these clippings. He put the gathered newspapers on the floor and looked through the
other objects in the box.

None of the four knives seemed spectacularin fact, most of them were rusted and worn and three of them bore the
initial S on their scabbards. The fourth dagger had no scabbard, its blade slightly rusted at the helm, and its blade
bore deep scratches, as if it had been used for target practice rather than killing. He looked at the three other knives
and pulled out their blades: they were clean and sharp.

S for Sardothien or for someone else?

He put the knives aside and picked up the two garments: childrens clothes, so worn and dirty that they were little
more than rags.

One of them was a nightgown, shredded along the bottom and the sleeves. It couldnt have fit a child older than ten.
It must have been originally white, but there were so many dark stains on it that Chaol could barely make out the real
color.

The other object was an undershirt. While not as dirty as the nightgown, it bore the same brown streaks and stains
across the chest. A sleeve was ripped in two, and a hole stretched across the side directly beneath it.

Chaol held the two garments in his hands, wondering why she would hold onto dirty clothes from her childhood, aside
from nostalgias sake. He looked at the nightgown once again: the embroidery around the collar and across the
shoulders was impressive. He ran his hands across the inside of the cleanest spots and narrowed his eyes to verify
what he was feeling: silk.

If she was an orphan, why did she wear a silk nightgown?

Chaol looked into the empty trunk and felt around for any invisible, glass keys. All that he received was a hollow-
sounding thump.

His brows narrowed.

Chaol knocked on the bottom of the chest, listening to the noise.

He got on the floor and turned the trunk over, hearing objects still sliding around inside. It was a faint noise, like the
sound of feathers moving around. Balancing the trunk on its side, he again knocked on the bottom, one hand placed
underneath, and found that his blows did not echo across his hands.

Something else was hidden inside.

Putting the trunk flat, Chaol pushed down against one corner of the bottom, pushing and pushing until

The bottom cover popped off, revealing a hidden compartment.

It was filled with yellowed newspaper clippings, even more than the pile from the main part of the trunk, many of
them just small patches of thin parchment whose ink was fading or splotched in several places.

Chaol leaned into the chest, a musky air overwhelming his senses, and grabbed the disorganized pile in his hands.
Placing it in his lap, he pulled a lamp closer to him as he read the first headline.

MISSING PRINCESS BELIEVED TO BE IN EYPTUSIUSUNN

It was dated from ten years ago, and as Chaol scanned the article, a puzzled expression crossed his face. It was three
paragraphs, barely three inches long, which mused over a possible sighting of the lost heir to Trasiens throne, Aelin
Galathynius. Chaol gently put the clipping down on the couch beside him and looked at the next one, dated a few
months after the first.

PRINCESS OF TRASIENS BODY POSSIBILY FOUND BY LOCAL FISHERMAN OFF AZURIAN COAST

Chaol skimmed through the papers, looking at each headline. They all followed the same theme: Princess Aelin
Galathynius. Some were extremely absurd, clearly taken from tabloid papers, and some were a few lines in well-
established printing houses.

A sharp chill ran down his arms as titles flew past him, a few stark words in a blur of yellow and grey. He didnt
understand what they were doing here, so obsessively hidden away, but Chaol soon began to speculate as to why,
each possibility as fantastic as the clippings before him.

Reaching the end of the pile, Chaol pulled the papers back into his lap and stared down into the empty box. What did
this mean?
He lowered his gaze to the stack once again, his fingers caressing the curled edges.

What does Celaena Sardothien have to do with Aelin Galathynius?

A face crossed his mind, causing Chaol to grasp the papers in his hand. The Minister of Trasien had expressed keen
interest in Celaena, and seemed to be making her an icon in this rebellion that they were slipping into. Did Adarlans
assassin know where the lost princess was hiding? Could Celaena possibly have the answers to a mystery that the
media had reveled in for years? She had been from Trasien as well, so her loyalty to the princess was unquestionable,
but what was the exact connection?

Picking up the first clipping, Chaol Wydrael reread the headline and began to flip through them once again, trying to
figure out what the assassin might have uncovered.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 20: PART I

It was as if the sun had simply turned its back on Wendlyn.

For the past two days, the spring rains had continued to fall without pause, flooding the fields and turning every road
into a river of mud. Everyone, peasant and nobleman alike, had fled indoors; shops and markets were closed, and
word arrived at the chateau that the jousting tournament had been pushed back three days from its date.

For Celaena and Luca, it was a blessing. For everyone else, it was a nightmare.

The youths armor had been finished only a morning before the torrential downpour had begun, and ever since the
moment they had tried on the suit in the blacksmiths shop, Celaena refused to allow him to remove it. Of course she
let him take it off when he had to run outside to make sure the crops werent being washed away, but as soon as he
walked in the door of the chateau, there were a few clanks and groans and the armor was back on.

At first, he had complained and moaned about the weight of the armor, but Celaena, following Raonns own methods,
had turned a deaf ear in his direction. Thankfully, after the first two days, Luca had begun to comment on the armors
increasing lightness, a statement that was usually followed by a request to remove it for an hour or two.

The armor was made well: it was as light as it could be without being useless, the helmet allowed a good amount of
visibility but kept the dangerous opening down to a minimum, and the lower half of the suit was flexible, if a little stiff
from its condition. Upon hearing about Lucas situation, the blacksmith had also thrown in two unused lanceshis son
had once dreamed of being a knight, and had been forced to give it up to keep his family fed and healthy. The pair
had been short on lances, and had considered stealing more before the tournament, so these two came as a boon and
a relief. Celaena couldnt keep from grinning as she saw Luca swell with pride and gratitude at the mans gift,
stammering his thanks again and again.

All in all, for what they had paid the blacksmith, he had given them an extremely good bargain.

So he clanked and clunked all over the kitchen and servants quarters, causing such a racket that many of the
farmhands chose to wait out the storm in another building on the estate. Even Stephaenya and Leighanna could
barely tolerate the noise, and they all dreaded the moment when the Baroness couldnt either. Celaena, however, felt
as if a weight had been lifted off of her chest.

The rain meant that practicing was overthey had done all that they could do to prepare, and had everything packed
for their departure. These extra days of waiting were a stroke of good luck: getting used to his armor was the best
thing that could have happened to them. And as much as he complained about the weight and the absurdity of
clunking around all day, Celaena had caught Luca admiring his armor and shining it up whenever he thought no one
was looking.

The handful of other farmhands who had also sought asylum in the kitchen also had a slight gleam of envy in their
eyes as they beheld the boys attire.

As relieved as she was about the extra time, Celaena could not help but feel the brunt of exhaustion: in the mornings
and at sundown, she and Luca practiced for an hour or two; and for several hours during the day and at night, Raonn
would steal her away and force her into a severe training.
Despite her earlier transformation into her more graceful half, Celaena had since refused to do so again: she had only
turned back into a human once she had reached her peak as a Fae, and had been so worn out that Raonn had
practically dragged her back to Doranelle. Afterwards, The Fae prince had attempted to con and infuriate her into
changing, but the assassin had held out, choosing the weight and clumsiness of her mortal form.

It was probably a mistake. Her muscles were sore and her body was covered in cuts and bruises of all sorts, and
Celaena had explained to her four companions that it was all due to an unfortunate fall into a thorn bush that also
managed to lie on the edge of a small cliff overlooking Cindrillions lake. She knew that they didnt believe her, but it
seemed satisfactory enough to the farmhands who had made themselves comfortable in the kitchen.

There were six to ten of them at a time, boys and men, none of them wicked or foul company, but none of them
interesting enough for Celaena to feel obligated to speak to them. They were pleasant to be around, and Celaenas
friends seemed to be glad to have them, but they watched her warily, rarely speaking to her despite their many
glances.

The assassin acknowledged that she was different, from the way she talked to the way that she looked, and as the
days began to pass, she found herself more and more uncomfortable with her position. She knew that when she
mysteriously vanished into the rain for hours on end that they talked about her, and Celaena hoped that her friends
didnt divulge in the gossip.

Raonn pushed her harder than he had when the weather had been moderately sunny, making her do a number of
lessons again and again until she had fully learned them. Three days ago, she had finally managed to master a
running mount, sword and shield in hand, onto the biggest horse in the Faes stables.

Had it been sunny and the ground dry, this task would have been accomplished much easier. But he had pulled her
out of Doranelle and into a huge, muddy field, and watched from the shelter of the trees as she ran at the horse
again and again, falling off again and again, sometimes not even making it to the horse before tumbling in the mud.
The shield and sword were as cumbersome as they were before, but Celaena soon learned to harness the swinging
force of the shield to the best advantage: if she swung it in the air just before she leapt on the horse, it eased the
jump itself. Her weapons werent just dead weight: they were tools that she could use to assist her in many ways
aside from killing and defending.

The moment she had begun to leap onto the galloping horse without mistake, Raonn had made it even harder: he
decreased the amount of space that she was allowed for running, giving her less than ten feet to gain momentum and
leap.

She could have killed him for that.

But she bit down on her growing frustration and rage, knowing its consequences, and had sucked up every bit of
exhaustion and pain into her dwindling energy and drive, and had eventually managed to mount the horse with ease.

When she had limped back to the chateau, muddied, bruised, and bleeding, barely uttering a word before she
collapsed onto a kitchen bench, her companions were in an uproar, demanding where she had gone, what happened,
and why she had left the kitchen in the first place. She had waved them off, asking for some food and a hot drink, and
could barely finish her meal before slinking off to an early bed.

The worst, however, was the lesson after: Raonn had placed her on a balancing beam, shield strapped on her back,
Goldryn either in hand or locked in her shield, and had instructed her to flip, cartwheel, roll, and dance across it
without falling. Celaena had fallen off so many times, whacking her head against the wooden bar, that she had had to
have Raonn heal her, placing his hands on her face to stop the bleeding and oncoming concussion. The weight of the
shield made balancing almost impossible, as it slipped and slid across her back, and often prevented her body from
moving in certain ways. It took her all day to master a single flip, and was so sore and uncomfortable that she fell
asleep at the kitchen table.

But there was little rest to be found.

As soon as they had realized that the rain was here to stay, the Baroness and her daughters had taken to their
chambers, demanding a constant stream of food and attention. Obviously, they did not read, and so they spent their
time playing games, mostly ones that involved money or absurd plotlines revolving around a prince marrying a fair
maiden. Because three was often an odd number for playing, the girls had ordered Cindrillion to join them, a request
that had taken both the assassin and the servant girl by surprise.
Unable to refuse, the girl had joined them, but only after Celaena had convinced Cindrillion that it was a positive sign
of their increasing good will towards her. But the assassin had also reminded her that to constantly lose would
perhaps be the best way to remain on whatever good side they might possess.

Ever since Peregrinno, the three women had avoided both shopping and talking about Adarlan, claiming that they
were bound to attack again and any point, and that the horrors they had endured would be fatal the next time they
encountered them. Naturally, they never thanked Celaena for saving their lives, nor did they accredit her for having
anything to do with the incident, nor did they even ask her how she managed to survive that dreadful night. In fact,
the first time the Baroness had seen Celaena back at the chateau, she had merely said welcome back, and had asked
her to fetch a glass of brandy.

A third day passed, the tournament was not even a week away, and the Baroness family began to grow bored of their
games. They were not to attend such barbaric games, though Celaena was sure that it had more to do with the fact
that no one really wanted to have the company of such barbaric people.

Cindrillion had survived without any whippings, losing so badly that the Joline and Marghenna had begun to call her a
half-wit. They soon thought that the next-best thing to parading around the house in their fanciest clothes would be to
dress up Cindrillion, and Celaena had watched with wary amusement as the servant girl appeared in the kitchen in a
dress that was too big for her, with so much powder and cosmetics upon her face that she looked like a clown. Her
hair was actually done nicelypresumably by their own dressing servantbut Celaena found that the girl looked
almost absurd. Of course, everyone had told her that she looked lovely, including the extra farmhands, and Cindrillion
had rushed back up the stairs, beaming, to tell her stepsisters the good reviews.

The assassin had commanded Luca to sit still during this period of time, waiting for the moment that she would hear
that first lash of the whip, but, thankfully, it never came. She later learned that the servant girl, after being dressed
up like a doll, had begun to tell the two girls storiesmostly romances and fableswhich the miserable pair had
lapped up like honey.

There were three days left before the tournament, and while the rain had begun to lighten, it showed no signs of
stopping.

Celaena sat at the end of the kitchen table, looking into the roaring fire, wondering why a falcon hadnt shown up at
the door yet. Dinner was long since over, and Celaena took a sip of the hot drink before her, keeping her eyes averted
from the seven men at the other end of the table. Luca and Stephaenya sat beside her, and Leighanna was rushing
around the kitchen, preparing a dish for tomorrows lunch. Due to their dwindling resources, the old woman and
Stephaenya had rushed into town earlier that day, trying to find any market or shop that would sell them food.
Thankfully, a few had been open, and they had returned soaked, yet laden with well-covered groceries.

Celaena rubbed her aching shoulders, rotating her head around to ease the soreness in her neck, and almost snapped
her collarbone in two as Cindrillion rushed into the kitchen in a frenzy.

Stories! she babbled, grabbing onto Celaenas shoulders. I need another story!

Her blue eyes were wide with panic, and Celaena grabbed onto her mug and moved it out of the girls way. The
farmhands looked at Cindrillion, and fought to keep their faces straight.

Celaena ignored them and smiled lazily, trying to control her own confusion and worry as she motioned for Luca to
shift over to allow the girl to sit. Cindrillion released the assassin and plopped down, her hands tapping nervously on
to the wooden table.

I need more stories, Elentulyai.

Celaenas smile didnt fade. Why are you asking me?

Cindrillion looked furious. Because youve got tons of stories about everything!

Celaena laughed. Run out of stealing from books, have you? she joked, and Cindrillion clicked her tongue.

I didnt steal from books!

Of course not! You just improved the plotlines a bit, correct?

Thats beside the point! Elentulyai, you need to tell me a few stories!

Celaena looked at her cut and swollen hands and smiled. What kind of a story?

Anything!

Anything?

Yes, anything!

So a raunchy romance is fair ground?

There was a fit of coughing, and Celaena looked at Luca, who appeared to be choking on a grape.

Cindrillion blushed, scowling. Tell me a story from when you were working for the Crown Princetell me something
romantic about Dorian DeHavilliard and yourself!

Ten heads whipped in her direction, and it was Celaenas turn to glower.

Absolutely not.

Please!

Celaena strummed her fingers on the table, watching Cindrillion squirm in her seat as she anxiously looked at the
clock.

Tell them that another story will have to wait until morning, and Ill tell you one about Captain Maurgonone that
the books wont have told you.

Cindrillions eyes sparkled. An untold story?

Celaena grinned. Did any of your stories ever mention the time that Maurgon fell in love with a lady from Belaegyr?

Cindrillion was up the stairs and out of the kitchen before Celaena could say anymore.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The following morning, Celaena awoke to find her room filled with sunlight. The rain had stopped, and large, fluffy
clouds bobbed in the sky. Despite the abundance of mud, it was a beautiful day. The day passed without any
significant events, save for the large gusts of wind that rattled all the windows and doors.

Cindrillion had told the two sisters the story of Maurgons hopeless romance and the ensuing war that he had launched
upon the town to have his vengeance; and as soon as she had finished, Joline and Marghenna had rushed to their
mothers room to demand to go shopping with money that they did not have.

The chateaus grounds were a mess, and Celaena found herself sweating heavily as she worked beneath the scorching
sun, picking up debris and repairing the small vegetable and herb garden. As she sat in the garden, typing long stalks
of vegetables to wooden stakes, her legs and bottom were cold with mud, and pretty soon, her face was covered as
well. It was nice to work outside, in the eartheven if her face was getting sunburned.

She paused for lunch, rubbing her sore muscles as she waited for her meal, and realized with equal amounts of
surprise and pleasure that where soft skin once lay was now turning into hard, toned muscle. She consumed her food
with the appetite of a wolf, and headed out towards the garden once again, leaving the dishes to Leighanna.

Celaena peered into the empty stables, and saw Lucas sword leaning against a far wall. No one in sight, Celaena
strode in and picked up the weapon, removing its sheath. She swung it through the air, marveling at its lightness, her
sore muscles guiding the sword through several swift moves that Raonn had recently taught her. Her thighs ached as
she lunched at the thin air, then darted backwards and to the side, Celaena ducking and leaping as she dodged
imaginary enemies.
Practicing a bit, I see?

Celaena whirled around, blood rushing to her face, and stared at Raonn.

Not for your sake.

Raonn tossed his long hair behind his shoulders and leaned against the far wall of the barn.

What are you doing here in your Fae form?

Raonn shrugged. I flew in my other form, and thought that surprising you would have a much greater effect if I were
like this.

Celaena frowned. I thought that the Fae dont like to be around humans.
I dont, and many of my kind dont, but we mostly stay away for your sake. Ive told you that a thousand times
already.

She scowled. I dont think the people at this chateau would be disturbed by seeing you, though I suspect that if they
spoke to you, they would feel much differently.

Raonn snorted. It seems like the dirt thats all over your face also leaked into your mouth.

Celaena stuck out her tongue. I dont have time today to train with you. Ive got Lucas tournament in a day, and I
need all of my energy.

Raonn tapped his foot.

Also, she continued, sheathing the sword and ignoring him, I dont want to look like Ive just come off a battlefield.
Ive got to look dignified and pleasant, not like a barbarian.

That might take a good amount of work, he sneered.

Celaena made an obscene gesture, and Raonn chuckled.

I didnt come to drag you off, he said.

Celaena raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

Queen Maeve sends a gift.

For me?

Raonn rolled his eyes. Dont be so self-centered. Its for your farm boy.

Celaena was speechless for a moment. She sent Luca a present?

A few presents, actually.

Celaena looked at Raonn, trying to guess what she might have possibly sent with him.

Why would Maeve send him a gift?

Raonn crossed his arms. Any estate that borders this forest is under Maeves watch, he drawled. And any boy thats
under Aelin Galathynius watch is especially looked after.

Celaena nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Raonn let out a dramatic sigh. If you look across the road and past that large stump, youll see a horse and six lances
waiting for you.

She stared at him dumbly.

Go look! he barked, and Celaena ran out of the barn, her shoes sinking into the hardening mud, and stopped in her
tracks. Sure enough, waiting just behind the first line of trees was a brown horse, and six lances leaning against a
tree. She swallowed hard, and a cool breeze blew by her, ruffling her hair and the skirt of her brown dress. Celaena
wiped her hands on her apron and gathered her hands in her hair, nervously twisting across one shoulder. The sound
of laundry flapping in the wind filled her ears.

Raonn appeared beside her, closer than she would have thought, and waited for her response.

She took a step forward, as if to go inspect, but Raonn held out a hand. Wait, he instructed.

Celaena turned towards him, raising an eyebrow, but he jerked his chin towards the distant horse again, and her gaze
followed.

There was a muffled cry, and then Celaena saw Luca bound across the muddy road, pause to stare at the horse and
the lances, and then pick up what Celaena guessed was a note. His brown hair glowed in the sunlight as he dropped
the note as if it was on fire, and he looked around, turning in circles as he attempted to find his benefactor.

The assassin rotated to look at Raonn, the wind pushing her hair across her face, and smiled warmly. She felt strange,
almost as if she were in the middle of a surreal dream.

Thank you, she said, her voice weaker than she would have thought.

Raonn lifted his hands in the air. Dont thank me, thank your aunt.

But Celaena grabbed one of his upheld hands between hers, surprised at how cold it was and how rough hers were
becoming, and stared into his gray eyes.

Thank you, she repeated, stronger, and squeezed his hand for emphasis. Rolling clouds, so large that they could
have been castles, passed by quickly in the breeze, and the sun shone down upon them.

Her hair was a golden curtain across her face, and Celaena almost flinched as she felt a cool hand brush her hair away
and tuck it behind an ear. There was a tenderness to his touch that alarmed her, and as she gazed into his eyes, she
found that the storm gray that melted into the quiet, gentle throbbing shade of the sky just before dawn.

Celaena dropped his hand and looked towards Luca, and felt her heart skip as she realized that he had been watching
them. Even from far away, she could see the surprise and shock on his face, and she began to realize how her
gratitude must have looked. When she turned back to Raonn, her mouth open as if to speak, she found that he had
disappeared.

There was a fluttering of wings and a sharp cry, and Celaena looked up to see a silver falcon soaring towards the
forest canopy.

The kitchen door burst open, and Cindrillion and Stephaenya came rushing out, their eyes wide and hands across their
chests.

Was that a Fae?

Who is he?

How do you know him?

What is he doing with you?

Celaena took a step back, blinking, and tried to sort out who was saying what.
The two girls paused; their pregnant silence about to break, and Celaena wiped her hands on her apron again, trying
to remove that cool touch.

Yes, that was a Fae, she said shakily, looking at them. They took a step towards her, their eyes brimming with
potential gossip. Celaena look a step back.

Is that who youve been sneaking off to see? Cindrillion asked.

Celaena blushed. No.

Cindrillion looked at Stephaenya. I think shes lying. Stephaenya nodded.

You two looked prettyinvolved, Stephaenya said.

Celaena looked over their shoulders and realized that they had been spying on her from the kitchen window.

Were not.

Because of Dorian DeHavilliard? Cindrillion inquired.

No.

Because hes Fae and youre a mortal? Stephaenya continued.

No.

Because he adores you and you dont like him?

No!

Celaena pointed at the woods, where a shadow of a falcon still stained the sky. Hes a wretch.

But hes so handsome! Cindrillion whined.

Is he a prince? Stephaenya chimed in, nodding in agreement.

Celaena frowned. Yes.

They burst out in giggles, their hands covering their mouths.

There was a squelch of mud and a scrape of dirt. Was that a Fae?

Celaena turned around to find Luca approaching them at top-speed.

Yes! Cindrillion squealed. And hes a Fae prince!

Luca stopped beside Celaena with raised eyebrows. So thats who youve been sneaking off to see!

The assassin ground her teeth. I have not been seeing him, she growled.

Luca shrugged. Well, whatever youve been doing with him seems to have paid off!

He pointed at the horse and the lances and the two servant girls let out another squeal. The Fae sent those from
Doranelle, Luca said, beaming. That horse is worth more than this entire estate! And those lances are lighter than
air!

Celaena couldnt help but smile.

Thank you, Luca said, turning back to Celaena, his smile stretching out across his entire face.

Celaena shook her head. Thank Maeve, not me, she said quickly, embarrassed.

The three took in a sharp breath and stared at her.

Maeve? Luca asked, his face paling. As in, Queen Maeve of the Fae, ruler of all Faeries?

Celaena bit on her lip, realizing her mistake. Yes, but I

You know Maeve? Cindrillion interrupted. Her voice was serious, almost angry.

Celaena was silent, and she looked around at their curious, but nervous, faces. Stephaenya stepped towards Luca, but
Cindrillion held her ground.

Yes, the assassin said quietly, staring at the blond girls face. Yes, I know Maeve.

Who are you? Luca exclaimed, and Celaena whipped her head towards him, waiting for him to give away the secret
that she had mistakenly revealed to him.

Her blue eyes pleaded with the youth, but he continued to gape at her.

What difference does it make, Celaena asked, lowering her gaze to the ground, whether I know Maeve or not, so
long as you received those gifts? She raised her stare to his face, waiting for a response.

None, Cindrillion said cheerfully, her mood back to normal.

Celaena smiled weakly at the girl.

Luca shook his head, and looked at the sky. Is there anyone that you dont know, Elentulyai?

Celaena chuckled, her tension releasing as the mood lightened. Only the gods themselves, she smiled, though
quickly wished she hadnt said it.

After all, Mab, Maeves sister and Celaenas great-grandmother, had died only to become Daeanna, Goddess of the
Hunt and Protector of Women.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The dawn was cold and pale, and Celaena pulled Galan Ashryvers cloak tight around her as she and Luca shuffled
towards the wagon waiting for them in front of the chateau. A horse was hitched in front, and Lucas Fae horse, which
he had named Samsirrion, had been tied to the back. Luca clanked as he climbed onto the drivers seat, his armor
freshly buffed and shined so that it glowed even in the dim light of morning. In the back of the open wagon lay their
assortment of lances, as well as food, clothing, and a healers kitjust in case.

Stephaenya, Cindrillion, and Leighanna, as well as several other farmhands, had left the kitchen to come say goodbye,
their eyes bright and their mouths full of encouragement and well wishes.

As they waved goodbye and Celaena took up the reins, Stephaenya stepped onto the wagon, kissing the would-be
knight on the cheek. Celaena grinned at Lucas surprise, and then bit down a yawn. She had slept terribly last night.

As soon as the girl had jumped off the wagon, Celaena snapped the reins and the cart began moving, Samsirrion
snorting with impatience at their already-slow pace.

The pair turned around and waved, and Celaena noticed the strained smile on Lucas face. The two of them were the
only ones capable of going without the chateau falling to pieces, and though they knew that they would return after
nightfall, both of them felt like the day would last for months.
It took more than an hour to approach pel, and they were silent for the entire ride, their nerves and stomachs so
tense that any conversation would have been futile. The sun rose without much clamor, and the later it got, and the
closer they neared the city, the more crowded the road became.

Soon, they were in the middle of a long line of streaming traffic, waiting to pass through the city gates, hundreds of
carts filled with everything from clothes to chicken, spices to salmon. Thankfully, it wasnt as hot as it had been these
past few days, and Celaena felt quite comfortable in her fine clothes from Adarlan and the red cape of the prince.

Though they had plenty of time before the tournament was to begin, waiting in line was brutal. Everyone seemed to
be smiling and laughing except for them, and Celaena found herself scowling as she shooed away peddlers from their
cart. Despite the cushions beneath her, Celaenas body was incredibly sore, and she yawned yet again before reaching
around and pulling an apple from their sack of food.

She took a bite and held it out to Luca, who shook his head. His face had turned a sickly color of pale green, and as
the gate began to loom overhead, he let out a cry of despair before leaning over the side of the wagon and emptying
the contents of his stomach. There were a few exclamations of disgust and sympathy from carts in front and behind
them, and Luca wiped his mouth, his eyes watering, before he hung his head between his knees as they passed
through the shade of the massive gate and into the walled city. Though Raonn had brought her here weeks ago, she
had no idea where she was going. All that she remembered was the massive stadium, as well as the feeling being
very, very foolish to have gotten involved in this sort of thing.

Celaena looked at the helmet that he held in his arms, and patted his back, creating a few loud thumps that sounded
a bit absurd.

As they rode by a group of guards, Celaena called to them, asking where the tournament was held. They turned
towards her, and one of them trotted up to their wagon, smiling at Celaena. He had light brown hair, with dark eyes
that sparkled with mischief, and while he was in no way handsome, he had a boyish charm that made the assassin
smile.

Turn right at this intersection and follow the street until you reach the center of the city. Thats where the arena is
you cant miss it.

He grinned at Celaena as she thanked him, reaching into the purse at her side for a coin.

No, lady, he interrupted, raising a hand.

Celaena dropped the coin back in and looked at him, slowing their cart down to match his pace. From behind, she
could hear the other guards laughing.

Its a guards honor to help Wendlyns citizens, he said, his dark eyes flashing. His large nose broadened as his grin
spread even further across his face. Besides, he said as he tossed his hair, its payment enough to be able to speak
to such a beautiful lady!

Oh, please.

Celaena laughed, and Luca lifted his head enough to glare at the guard, before she awkwardly shook the reins to urge
the horse to go faster. The assassin waved goodbye to the guard, who had stopped running and returned to his
gaggle of friends.

The city was packed with vendors, each selling something different and exotic, and the smell of roasted meats and
spices filled the air. The street that they had turned onto appeared to be the main street of the town, and Celaena
followed the streaming crowd of pedestrians as they slowly, painstakingly made their way towards the arena. How
many people could this place hold?

The crowds turned to stare at them, and Celaena twisted in her seat to make sure that Samsirrion was still there. She
didnt know what they were staring at: her, the violently sick contestant, or the very unlikelihood of their partnership.

Celaena turned towards Luca and tapped him on the back. Sit up, she said, surprised at how tight her throat felt.
Luca let out a groan.

Sit up, you buffoon, she hissed. You look like a fool sitting like that!
Luca turned his head towards her, his face deathly pale.

I cant do this, he moaned, closing his eyes. This was a terrible idea.

Celaenas eyes blazed with frustration and nervousness. You will do this, and you will not complain about it!

There was another moan, and Luca put his head down again. Several young men waved at their cart, and Celaena
smiled as she waved back.

If I had to sell my ring and if Stephaenya had to give up her dowry, then you had better do this! she said between
her smiling teeth. Luca said nothing.

Why did you enter this in the first place, Luca? Hmm? Because it was your damned dream to do it, and because of
that damned Ghent boy. Do you want to let him win? Do you want to give up everything just because of a little stage
fright?

Lucas brown hair was damp with sweat, and Celaena smiled broadly at all the people who waved to them, her hands
clenching the reins as her face began to ache.

No, Luca said quietly, his voice muffled between his metal-clad knees.

Then get up, and dont waste the money and time that weve spent on this, she snapped, and grabbed him by the
collar of his armor. With a groan, she yanked him upright, his back colliding with the wood in a resounding thud.

Smile, Celaena said, demonstrating, and wave to anyone who waves to you.

Luca took several deep breaths, his eyes closed, and then let his lips recoil into an uneasy smile. She tensed as she
watched him, waiting for him to vomit again, but after a few seconds of peace, she relaxed.

Good, she cooed.

There was a sharp turn in the street, and the stadium swung into view. It was massive, built entirely of stone and
wood, and Celaena turned their cart away from the throngs of people that were streaming into an open gate and
towards another entrance where several other carts were lined up. She readjusted her cloak, fighting down the
nausea that was also beginning to churn in her stomach, and took Lucas hand in one of her own.

Dont look at your competition. Keep your gaze ahead and dont listen to anyone except for me. Celaena tried to
ignore the booming cheers of the crowd that was separated by just a wall of stone, but she could not prevent her
heart from speeding up.

Remember, she said in a strained voice, youve got Samsirrion, plus Fae lances. None of these boys have that.

But theyve got years of training, Luca said, his first sentence in hours, and Celaena felt his hands tremble.

Yes, but did they also have Faeries and the Fae assisting them? she said with attempted cheerfulness.

Probably, Luca said dourly.

Celaenas forced smile wavered. I highly doubt that Queen Maeve chooses more than one young man to be her
beneficiary.

Luca shrugged. I just want to get this over with.

The despair in his voice made Celaena snap her head to look at him. I wouldnt wish that if I were you, she said
gravely. This is what youve been waiting for your whole life, and while you might be terrified now, in a year, in five,
ten, or twenty years, you will look back on this day and wish that you hadnt allowed your fear to get to you. You will
wish that you had the opportunity to do this over, to just do it one more time, and you will despair, knowing that it
will never happen again.
His eyes were damp, and he shook his head. This isnt what I imagined it would be like.

Nothing ever is.

They passed through the gate, following close behind another cart carrying a tall, dark-haired boy, and Celaena pulled
the horse to a stop as two guards approached their wagon. They appeared to be in a large chamber beneath the
stadiums seats, the smell of horses and oil filling the air. Torches lined the stone walls, and the hay-strewn floor was
caked with mud. The soldiers were clad in Wendlyns blue and silver colors, their hair well groomed and their swords
displayed prominently.

You, boy, the larger of them said, go to that table, the man pointed at a table before which three other boys were
standing, and register.

He turned to Celaena, his weathered face grim. Bring your cart just down this pathway and stop where the other
contestants are waitingthe boy will meet you there when he is done.

Luca looked at Celaena, who nodded to him, and he leapt off the cart, surprising the guards with his nimbleness in his
armor. She let out a sigh of relief, thankful that they had been allotted extra time for him to get used to the weight
and movement of the suit, and she snapped the reins into motion.

The other carts around her were occupied by men, some of them covered and elaborately painted, some of them filled
with extra people, and from one cart, a minstrel seemed to be serenading his young master.

They waited in a line like carriages outside of a theater, and Celaena watched as young men, all clad in their armor,
returned to their carts, showing their companions a slip of parchment before driving off. Celaena turned around in her
seat, watching as Luca waited in line, his foot tapping nervously. He looked over in her direction and she waved to
him, smiling brightly.

Her stomach felt like a mess, and guilt was beginning to fill her heart. Had she brought him here under foolish
assumptions? Celaena looked at the few contestants gathered around and bit on her lip. None of them looked
professional.

Is this truly a mistake? Was Stephaenya actually right?

Celaena twisted the reins in her hands so tightly that the horse started forward. Celaena quickly yanked them back,
preventing a collision with the cart in front of them, and gave the driver an apologetic smile.

Behind her, Samsirrion pawed the ground and let out a loud snort. She turned around and looked at the beautiful
horse, her nose wrinkling. I know youre impatient, she hissed.

Samsirrion shook his head, his dark hair ruffling around. Dont make him look foolish! she snapped at the horse,
keeping her voice low. And dont let him fall from the saddle!

Celaena looked over at Luca, who was finally at the table, talking to a balding man who seemed to be laughing.
Curious, the Fae horse also turned its head, and Celaena was relieved to see Luca walk away from the table,
parchment in hand, with a smile upon his face.

He climbed back into the wagon, still grinning, and Celaena looked at the paper that he handed her.

Were to go to stable three, and we are in the twenty-fourth match in this round.

Celaena nodded. Why were you laughing just now?

Luca blushed. He asked if you were my wife.

Celaena chuckled. What did you say?

No, of course!

Celaena elbowed his armor, creating a high-pitched twang. And then what?
He asked if you were married.

Celaena grimaced, remembering the mans thinning hairline and large features.

But I told him you were.

Celaena gaped at the boy. To whom?

I didnt say!

What then?

Luca laughed. He asked if you had a sister.

Celaena smiled, and turned around to wave to the man at the table before they pulled away.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

With over an hour until the tournament began, Celaena helped Luca remove his armor when they reached their
assigned stable. A boy, no more than twelve, was waiting for them, and as they began to unload some of the contents
of their cart, he unhitched both horses and led them into two separate pens in the small building, gingerly handling
Samsirrion.

The horse was well-behaved, raising its head whenever it noticed that people were gaping at it, following the cart with
no objections. Its chestnut color was truly remarkable, and Celaena probably would have insisted upon braiding his
black mane if they had had more time.

At the other end of a stable there was an open door, and as the two approached, the crowdand the noisebecame
overwhelming. Before the door was a small track, obviously meant only for the jousters to reach the gate that lay just
two stables down to their right, opening onto the massive field. A white fence lay down the middle of the dirt-covered
floor, and on either side of the ring lay a large board covered with hooks and numbers. The hooks were arranged in a
pyramid, each row labeled as a round, and Celaena scanned the long first row to find out whom they were up against.
But all that she found was a number, no name, so Celaena merely winced at the sixty-three other numbers and
focused her attention on Luca.

But the crowd held him captive, and Celaena followed his gaze to look upon the thousands of people seated in the
hundreds of rows of seats, stretching almost as high as the top of the stadium itself. Even an hour before the contest,
the arena was packed with spectators, each cheering and calling to each other so loudly that Celaena was afraid to
wonder what they would be like during the competition itself.

In the middle of one side lay a segregated area covered with flags and canopies and ornate chairs, stretching far up
into the seating. From the glittering jewels and the richness of the colored fabrics, Celaena could tell that this was the
nobles-only section of the stadium. Each seemed to be as finely dressed as the next, and Celaena felt another pit of
worry drop into her stomach at the thought of Galan Ashryver being there.

Her body tensed as her gaze fell upon the largest throne in the center of the section, but thankfully it was filled by a
man that looked nothing like the Crown Prince. She squeezed Lucas shoulder and pulled him back into the stable.

On the other side of the building, would-be knights streamed past their open doorway, their banners waving in the
spring breeze.

We dont have a banner, Luca said glumly, and Celaena shrugged.

Damn!

Taking control of her own embarrassment, the assassin grinned at the youth. I think a Fae horse is banner enough
for these people. Perhaps it will even start a new trend.

Luca raised an eyebrow and Celaena put her hands on her hips. You know, she said, a trend that says: Were so
noble and proud that we dont even need a banner to show off.
Thats absurd.

Celaena gave him a sharp look. If youre going to continue to be negative, youre definitely going to lose.

Id like to see you go out there and fight! Ive never even fought a man before!

Celaena rolled her eyes, and then began to watch as a crowd of servants in the stable next to them began to pitch a
large white tent extending onto the track from their field-side stable entrance. You fought a bunch of overtly-creative
faeries. And, if Im not mistaken, I think that they might be a bit more clever than we are.

This is going to be a disaster.

Celaenas hard began to pound. If you want to go home and explain to everyone that you didnt compete because
you were a coward, then thats fine with me. I dont have to offer any apologies to anyone.

Luca glared at her, his brown eyes filled with doubt. Im not a coward.

Then prove it, she snapped. Even if you lose the first round, just trying is worth more than quitting before you
begin.

That means a lotcoming out of your mouth!

I just, Luca began, and then stopped for a moment, running a hand through his hair. I just dont really feel
adequate enough to do this. I mean, look at all of these other young men! Theyve got banners and entourages and
years of training! And, yes, Ive got you and the Fae Queen and faeries behind me, but its not the same! Im probably
the only one not of noble blood.

Celaena was silent as a youth passed by on his horse, his blond hair shining in the sunlight, his head held high.

You, she said quietly, her eyes upon the passing group, want to tell me about blood?

She swallowed and looked at Luca. I know that youve kept my secret, she said. And I know that you havent
forgotten what that secret is. You and I are very alike in some ways, Luca. But while youre of mixed classes, Im of
mixed races. My great-grandmother was Fae, and because of that, and because of several merging bloodlines that
shouldnt have been crossed, I have her full powers, save for immortality. I was told that my human form is the
equivalent of a Faes animal form, and I choose to hide my great-grandmothers lineage simply because its something
that scares me.

Luca stared at her, speechless.

I dont like having mixed blood, and not a day goes by when I wish that I wasnt like this, Celaena looked down at
her open hands, and then closed them into fists. But it is who I am, its something that I cant control, and the best
thing that I can do, Luca, is to learn to accept both sides of me and do whatever it was that I was meant to do on this
earth.

She looked into the distance, beyond the towering buildings of the city and past the grey wisps of clouds that clotted
the blue sky above, her eyes shining. Ive barely begun to explore my Fae heritage, and Im still terrified of doing so,
which might sound hypocritical, but, believe me, its something that I have to face and conquer just as you have to
compete in this competition. Its not something someone told us to do, but something we feel is necessary to do in
order to justify and understand a part of our existence.

You think that because youre the bastard son of a Baron, youre not worthy of competing, correct?

Luca nodded.

But you signed up for this competition, didnt you? You signed up because you knew that there was a part of you
greater than whatever society dictates is noble and honorable. Theres a part of you that knows that youre better
than Ghents legitimate son, Brenn or Drenn or whatever his name is, and that knows that who you are is not
determined by how you were born, but by what you do with your life.
Celaena swallowed, and turned to completely face Luca, her eyes staring into his. I know that too, because its a fact
that I grapple with every day of my life. Its an awful thing to know, and an even harder thing to act on, but its the
truth.

She sighed. Ive made bad choices in my past, Luca. Ive chosen to run, rather than to face what I was challenged
with, and it is only now, now that things are impossible to repair, that I am beginning to regret my actions.

Celaena paused, her heart pounding at breakneck speed. Whatever your choice may be, Lucato compete in this or
to leaveI hope that its one that you can respect and cope with.

With that, Celaena turned from him and walked towards their cart, looking for a bite to eat, trying to control the
feelings of guilt and shame that threatened to consume her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The hour passed quickly, and as the clock began to strike ten, the crowd worked itself into a frenzy. Luca had sat
quietly in a corner, hopefully thinking over their conversation, and Celaena had spent her time pacing back and forth
across the stadium-side of the stable. She didnt know whether or not he would withdraw, but as time began to pass,
she had begun to grow more hopeful about the prospect of him competing.

Celaena now leaned against the doorframe of the stable, watching pages rush back and forth across the field. The
nobles had just finished their mid-morning meal, and were downing the last bit of their drinks.

Can you buckle this for me?

Celaena whirled and found Luca in his armor, his breastplate awaiting closure. He had stupidly put on his arm guards
before closing the chest, and Celaena grinned as she pushed it closed and turned the latch as the blacksmith had
shown her. Luca put on his gloves, and smiled grimly.

I figure, he began, his eyes bright, that its stupid to be afraid. I dont really know any of these people, and I guess
that youre right in saying that trying is far better than giving up. No one back at the chateau will say anything harsh
if I dont do well, and its only my ego thats going to be harmed by my failure.

Celaena nodded, wishing that she could click her heels in the air, unable to control the bursting pride and new wave of
nervousness within her breast. Youll do well, I can tell.

Lucas mouth twisted to the side, though his newfound confidence did not diminish. He held his head in a way that she
had never really seen before. Do you really believe that?

Celaena tossed her long hair behind her shoulders and crossed her arms. While you were having an epiphany and
enjoying the comfort of the corner, Ive been watching the other stables. As fancy as these boys may look, most of
them actually appear to be as nervous, if not more so, than you. Celaena laughed. Believe it or not, Ive seen four
boys throw up in the past forty-five minutesthe best was when one of them vomited on someone.

Luca laughed weakly.

Im proud of you, Celaena said, smiling at the sudden awkwardness. Youre doing the right thing.

Luca grinned and patted her on the shoulder. You love to give lectures, dont you?

Celaena laughed loudly. It comes with the territory.

She surveyed him, gazing at him from foot to head, and smiled. You look very handsome in the armor when youre
not vomiting or complaining.

Luca tossed his brown hair for effect. Its about time you noticed.

As your wife, Im only obligated to cook your meals and give you a handful of children to carry on your prowess, not
compliment you on your fortunate appearance.
They both laughed, feeling the tension drain out of them for a moment.

Stephaenya would be drooling if she could see you now, Celaena purred.

Luca raised an eyebrow. She wasnt before?

The assassin playfully smacked him upside the head and picked up his helmet.

Here, she said, shoving it into his arms. I hope that youre able to fit it onto that swollen head of yours.

Luca opened his mouth, but a blare of trumpets interrupted him. The crowd began to cheer, a noise which increased
as Celaena and Luca saw a fat man in a curly wig swagger out onto the fieldthe Master of Ceremonies. He was clad
in purple and gold robes, much like those of the Fae, and his face was red with either nervousness or too much wine.
Around him, several pages rushed to place four metal vats, which Celaena assumed were used for amplification. Luca
tensed beside her, and the two of them crossed the small path and stood against the fence that encompassed the
ring.

Celaena looked down either side of the fence and surveyed their competition once again. One youth, stationed in the
white tent beside them, even had the gall to wink at her, an act to which she simply tossed her hair and looked in the
other direction. The crowd continued to cheer, and Celaenas nervousness was sinking back into her stomach with
hell-bent speed. Luca didnt look much better. She had never been in front of this many people, let alone had their
expectation to succeed, and it was with stark clarity that Celaena began to understand what her role of queen might
actually be like.

It was terrifying.

She could barely think above the roar of the crowd, and all of the thousands of faces seemed to blend into a smear of
mauve and taupe. Peregrinno had been nothing like this.

As much as she hated to admit it, had she been in Lucas place, she would probably have run out of the stadium in a
nervous fit. How could she make great speeches and speak to her countrymen if she felt nauseated just standing in
front of a crowd with a hundred or so other people?

Celaena looked around the contestants circle, chewing on her lip. Flying from the doors of every stable were the flags
of the houses of these young men, and Celaena raised her chin in the air, nudging Luca to do the same. Nervous as
they appeared, the young lords did have an advantage over she and Luca: they had been in the spotlight their entire
lives. She barely remembered the eight years she had spent as heir to Trasiens throne, but from what she could
remember, none of it had ever really involved standing in front of people like this. True, everyone had known who she
was, but she had never been asked or expected to speak or perform in front of the entire castle at Orynth!

Maybe Luca was correct: a flag or banner would have been ideal. They had discussed it once or twice, had come to no
agreement on what it should look like, and then had simply forgotten. Celaena ran her fingers down the splintering,
white wood of the fence, grinding her feet into the dirt. It was good, firm earthSamsirrion wouldnt run the risk of
falling.

As the crowd continued to issue its overwhelming cries of excitement, Celaena discovered that the best way to deal
with it was to simply try to ignore them. She had to ignore their massive numbers, ignore the noise, ignore the
prospect of two thousand people judging her and Luca, ignore the young lords gathered around the ring, and ignore
the feeling of impending doom.

Celaena looked at Luca, and took his hand in her own, squeezing it tightly.

There was a whinny from inside of the stables, and before they could even turn around, Samsirrion had leapt from his
paddock and was trotting towards them. They exchanged a look, grinning, and Celaena watched with satisfaction as
several nearby youths stared in awe at the magnificent horse. Samsirrion nudged Lucas shoulder before pushing
Celaena to the side so that he could stand between them, and the assassin scowled at the beast before turning her
attention back to the purple man.

For some reason, having a rude, intelligent Fae horse at her side made Celaena feel a bit more confident.
The Master of Ceremonies raised his arms, his belly hanging over his golden belt, beseeching the audience to silence
itself. It took a moment or two, and several angry voices commanding a few loud people to be quiet, but eventually a
hush gathered over the crowd.

Celaena leaned against the fence, her arms crossed along its top rail. Samsirrion snorted a few times, one of them
right onto Celaenas hair, and she shuffled over a foot to give the horse the room he desired.

The man in purple lowered his arms, his gold chains and jewels clinking loudly over the silent stadium, a broad smile
on his face. He turned around once, slowly surveying the crowd, before he raised his hands once again.

Welcome! he said in a booming voice, fair and eloquent. Welcome all of you to our marvelous tournament!

The crowd let out an explosive cry of agreement, and Celaena winced at the noise. She looked over at Luca, expecting
to see him vomiting, but instead found him grinning broadly. She looked at Samsirrion, who turned his head to regard
her before letting out a puff of hot horse breath into her face. Celaena stuck out her tongue at the horse and tucked
her horse-blown hair behind her ears.

The crowd fell silent again, and the man in the wig raised his hands a bit higher.

After the horrors of Peregrinno, he said solemnly, and Celaena felt a sharp stab of coldness and grief, we are
fortunate to be here! Her chest seemed to be squeezing her heart, and she looked down at the ground, keenly aware
of Lucas intense stare. The crowd let out a massive boom of victory, and Celaenas face turned red. Above the din of
celebration, she could hear things, hear voices from that night

Her jaw throbbed with pain as she felt a hard SMACK and the brush of coarse hair slam into her face. She whipped her
head to look at Samsirrion, who let out a soft neigh, and then turned his large head back to the crowd.

Today is a day to both honor the heroes of that small down, and to bring forth the next generation of this countrys
guardians!

Celaena returned to the Master of Ceremonies, waiting for the crowd to silence itself once again. His robes glistened in
the sunlight, and his false, gray wig looked as if it were about to slide from his head. Out of the corner of her left eye,
she saw Luca finally shift his gaze to the man in the center.

As you all know, the winner of todays competition will be granted the role of squire to our very own Lord of pel!

The man seated on the throne in the middle of the upper-class section stood up and waved, the crowd responding
gleefully to his recognition. He was not an ugly man, though his face did have a few lines and one or two scars, and
his graying, dark hair still bore the thickness of youth. He seemed fit, and capable of fighting, and as he waved his
large hand in the air, he commanded a respect that made Celaena wish with all her heart that Luca would win. He
could use a man like this in his life, a man who would be compassionate, but firm with him, a man that really was a
man and not some fool parading around with a sword and a horse. Celaena exchanged an impressed look with Luca,
and strummed her fingernails impatiently, waiting for the crowd to get a hold of itself.

Our lord will guide our champion through the process of becoming a knight, eventually leading him to a knighthood
by King Glaston Ashryver!

More cheers, more impatience, finally silence.

But for those of you who do not win, dont despair! For the second place winner is to be awarded one hundred gold
coins! For the third and fourth place winners, fifty gold coins! The crowd gave a moderate amount of applause.

The announcer waited until there was complete silence, and lowered his hands, a grave expression crossing his face.
The rules are this! No foul play: spiked lances, reflective mirrors, anything that tampers with or gives you an
advantage over your opponent!

There is one match per competitor, per round! Once a competitor loses a match, he is immediately disqualified from
the competition! No exceptions!

Those that win will be paired against each other in the next round, and then in the next round, and so on and so
forth until we reach our final two!
Due to many requests and complaints from our last competition, four years ago, we have completely eliminated our
swordplay and archery aspects of the tournament! That means that there will only be jousting in this competition, so
you need not bring those fancy swords and shields of yours!

Celaena, already knowing this, smiled at the boys who let out groans a few stables away, hurling their weapons back
into the barns. Hopefully, they had counted on using their fair combat skills to compensate for their poor jousting
skills.

Also, the man continued, unlike other jousting competitions, we will not have the points system! Meaning, you can
win any of three ways: dismounting your opponent; making the best of three hits; or, if your opponent fails to hit you
twice while you make all the blows!

But listen well: should you fail to keep your blow beneath the neck, you will automatically be disqualified!

Celaena tapped her foot, waiting for the man to finish.

We have sixty-four contestants today, so there will be six rounds before the winner is announced!

The man raised his hands again and turned in a circle. Are you all ready to declare the next champion?

There was a boom of applause.

To the young competitors: the man bellowed, Enjoy this momentous occasion! Today is your day! May the gods
smile kindly upon you! Good luck!

The crowd stood up and cheered and screamed until Celaena thought that the entire stadium would fall apart. She
had no idea that this was such a cultural milestone, and that it generated such a response from the community.
Judging by the outdated nature of jousting itself, this must have been going on for centuries.

Luca certainly had a lot of gall to sign up.

She looked at each of the flags, all from noble houses, and let out a hiss of anger when her gaze fell upon the stable
of the Baron Ghents oldest son, Brenn. He was almost all the way across the ring, but even from the distance,
Celaena could tell that he looked ready to crush any opponent. From the size of his horse and the quality of his armor,
Celaena didnt doubt it for a moment.

She remembered that day, a month or so ago, when she had challenged the boy. Naturally, she had beaten him, but
he had fought unfairly, causing her to resort to the form that no mortal could out-do. Celaena wondered how Brenn
would fight in this tournament, how many of his lances were secretly spiked, how anyone could possibly take him on
for knighthood. Galan Ashryver would never allow it, and if Glaston Ashryver was anything like his cousin, Evaelien,
neither would the king.

Young pages dashed onto the field and back, removing the large projection disks to the far side of the ring, where a
small, purple and gold tent stood, just in front of the nobles box. Two wooden thrones stood beneath it, along with a
table of food and refreshments, and the announcer sat on one of the chairs, awaiting a goblet of water. A group of ten
boys dragged long rakes across the field, five on either side of the dividing fence, clearing the dirt of any debris and
rocks.

They had a while until Luca was up, and Celaena called to their stable boy to bring Samsirrion back into his pen. The
boy hesitated, and mumbled something about the horse jumping the gate, and Celaena clicked her tongue with
impatience and grabbed the horses bridle. She pulled, but the horse refused to move.

Celaena let out a grunt of annoyance and pulled harder, her feet digging into the ground.

Samsirrion shook his head violently, causing Celaena to drop the bridle.

Lets go! she barked at the horse, and Luca looked over. Samsirrion remained where he stood. A horse is not a
spectator! she snapped at the animal, putting her hands on her hips. You have to wait for your turn inside your
pen!
Let him watch if he wants to, Luca called over the horses back. Hes not doing any harm.

She frowned. It looks a bit foolish now.

Luca shrugged. Youre the one who told me that Samsirrion was better than any flag.

Celaena gave him a sharp look and then threw her hands in the air. Fine, let him stay where he is. When other
horses try to pass, let him explain to them that he wants to watch and that they can go around the other way.

The youth and the horse both snorted, and Celaena leaned against the fence once more, giving up the fight. The path
in front of the stables was large enough for riders to pass, but it wasnt really reserved for idle horses.

There was a blare of trumpets, and Celaena watched as two jousters appeared at either gate, their helmets in hand.
They looked nervous, and they waved awkwardly at the crowd as the announcer called their name from his side of the
field. The gates opened, and the two trotted out to meet, shaking hands and exchanging worried glances.

One of the boys laughed, and Celaena felt a bit of relief. Perhaps these boys werent like the ones in Adarlan. The
dark-haired youth who had laughed was the boy who had winked at her from the stable beside them. His tent was
now set up, complete with two wooden tables, covered in white tablecloths and food, as well as several, low-backed
chairs. Obviously he was richand hopefully pleasant as well.

The trumpets let out a few notes, and the boys turned and galloped back to their respective gates, waiting for the
signal. The trumpets called out one more time, and the opponents exchanged glances with those around them, put
their helmets on, picked up their lances, and waited for the ONE! TWO! THREE! GO! of the announcer before flying
out of their gates, weapons raised.

The crowd was silent as they galloped towards each other, and Celaenas breath caught in her throat as they neared
and

WHOOSH!

There was a pause of silence, and then a roar of laughter.

The two had missed each other completely!

Both boys removed their helmet, laughing with the crowd, and shook hands again, making comments to each other
that Celaena could not make out. Celaena gingerly walked around Samsirrion and clapped Luca on the back, her hand
thud thudding against his armor. Luca was laughing nervously, and they both grinned as theyand all those
competingfelt the tension lesson a good amount.

Perhaps the competition wouldnt be so bad after all.

The competitors galloped back to the gate and armed themselves again, still laughing, and the trumpets blared before
the announcer gave the signal. Their neighbors servants were laughing nervously, one of them already opening a
bottle of wine. Silence settled over the crowd as the sound of metal and hooves filled the arena.

The lances neared, the crowd so silent that everyone seemed dead, and Celaena watched as the larger of the two
their neighborslammed his lance into the others left breast, bestowing such a strong blow that the opposing youth
leaned far back in his saddle and then fell from his horse. The crowd let out a cry of victory, shattering the silence,
and the winner pulled his horse to a stop.

It was over as quickly as that.

Celaena looked at Luca, but the boy was too intent on watching the fallen youth be helped to his feet by the victor.
They shook hands, both smiling, and it seemed as if the winner was inquiring about any injuries, a question to which
the other replied with a shake of the head. Both of them seemed a bit shaken, but as they walked away, the
champion swinging beneath the fence to reach his horse, there was a sense of relief from both sides that this round
was over.
The loser, whose stable was by the far gate, limped slightly as he led his horse off the field, waving at the crowd. The
victor, having mounted his horse, received just as much applause as the other boy, and Celaena smiled as he walked
through the gate, only to be tackled by those supporting him. As the youth rode towards them along the track,
Celaena and Luca called out congratulatory words as he stood before his tent. The youth looked at them, his hazel
eyes glittering, and then at Samsirrion, and smiled brightly as he entered into the stable, his entourage following
behind.

He was from Kiras, a town about thirty miles north of Peregrinno, and his dark hair was like many of those in
Wendlyn. He was moderately attractive, nothing extraordinary, but the confidence and pride that he radiated made
him seem like a prince. Celaena recalled his vomiting fit an hour ago, and then regarded him now, and felt a small
spark of hope that Luca would fare so well. Kiras opponent had been nowhere as good as Luca, and with any luck, the
boy would be paired against someone beneath him as well.

Two pages rushed towards the wooden board, one on either side of the field, removing the losers number, two, from
the board, and placing Kiras number, one, into the second level of numbers, labeled Round Two. They dropped the
removed chip into a basket beneath the board, which apparently was for all of the fallen jousters. As soon as both
boys were done, they picked up their basket and rushed off the field, passing behind the announcers tent. A man had
joined the Master of Ceremonies, his brown hair flecked with silver, a small circlet on his head, and Celaena nudged
Luca, jerking her chin at the man.

Who is that? she whispered, watching the man laugh.

Hmm? Luca asked, looking around. Celaena subtly pointed to the tent, and watched Lucas face go from confused to
pale as snow.

He stared silently at the man, and the assassin cleared her throat.

Luca?

Luca licked his white lips, his aura of confidence slipping away.

Thats my father, he said quietly.

Celaena looked at Luca, then at the man, then back at her friend. The resemblance was suddenly uncanny. Thats
your father? she asked.

He nodded.

Celaena watched the Baron Ghent, his brown eyes shining with pleasure.

Did you know he would be here? Celaena asked gently, watching Luca go from white to green.

He nodded.

So why are you worrying?

Luca gave her a dirty look. Because I didnt know he would be the guest of honor!

Celaena raised an eyebrow. What does that mean?

Luca let out a hiss. The guest of honor always gets to sit with the Master of Ceremonies. Its usually the highest
noble in the region, which is my father. Hes a good friend of Glaston Ashryver, and while his estate may be just down
the road from ours, hes ranked much higher than the Lord of pel.

The assassin shrugged. So?

Luca glared at her, color returning to his face. I had forgotten that Brenn would be here.

Celaena looked at the stable across the field, now obviously stationed close to his fathers field-side tent. You can
beat him, she said.
Luca coughed. Beat Brenn? Hes been training for this tournament his entire life. Even if we were paired against each
other, he would splatter me across the field.

Celaena rolled his eyes. He cant be that good.

Luca nodded. He is.

Celaena strummed her fingers on the fence as the field was cleared of debris. How exactly didyou come about?

The young man let out a sigh and shook his head.

My mother and father fell in love when they were youngjust a bit older than I am right now. He had every intention
of marrying her, but when he told his parents of the idea, they threatened to disown him. You see, they were very
traditionalistbut more along the lines of what Adarlan might call tradition. He was the only son of the family, and the
idea of mixing their blood withwell, that of a servant, was almost heresy. They had been an arranged marriage, and
they wanted their son, their precious, precious bloodline, to be preserved as it had been for the past twelve
generations.

There was a bitterness to his voice, and his hands clenched. Even though my mother was with child, they turned her
out of their home, sending her to work wherever she could, and they forced my father to marry against his wishes. He
had to make a choice between his family and his heart, and he chose to sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of
others.

Celaena nodded, and turned her attention to Ghent, who was still laughing. He seemed like a pleasant enough man.

My mother fled to Port Moselian, working in a tavern, and because she had no money and no family to name, she
was unable to give birth to me with the assistance of a midwife.

His voice was strained, and his hands unclasped and grabbed onto the fence, the wood splintering beneath his grasp.
The boys were almost done clearing the field.

My mother managed to give birth to me, but she died three days later.

Celaenas eyes filled with pity, and she touched the cool armor on Lucas forearm.

I was found and raised by the wife of the tavern owner until I was eight, when she sent me to live with my father,
working as a stable boy. Brenn was seven at that point, and he and Ghents wife made my life so miserable that I left
a year later, only to find work over at the Baroness house. I barely ever saw my father, and Ive never spoken to him
in my life. I dont even know if he knows what my name is.

Ghent had stopped laughing, and was now sipping from a goblet.

Celaena tenderly ran a hand through his damp brown hair, giving into the maternal compassion she suddenly felt
towards him. Luca said nothing, and stared at the empty field, his eyes dark.

The trumpets signaled the start of the next round, and the announcer said a few parting words to the Baron before
standing up and calling out the names of the contestants within the ring of amplification disks. Two riders appeared at
either end of the gate, waving, and both looked as nervous as the first pair. As they approached and shook hands,
one of them made a comment to which they both laughed, and Celaena felt her worry slip away from her yet again.

Terrifying and overwhelming as the crowd was, the contestants themselves, save for Brenn, seemed to be quite
pleasant.

The second match went the same as the first: trumpets, tense silence, galloping, metal, nerves tightening, and
WHAM! Someone fell off their horse, only to be greeted by cheering for both. The third match followed the same
pattern, and as the boys moved and removed the numbers on the scoreboards, Samsirrion trotted around to
Celaenas left side to reveal a visitor.

It was the youth from Kiras, his armor still on, his chin-length hair damp with sweat. From the boys stable, his group
of servants and escorts were rushing around, preparing even more within the tent to provide refreshments from the
hot spring sun. There was no mistaking him now: he had been the boy that had winked at her earlier. Celaena,
embarrassed, deliberately ignored him.

What number are you? the young man asked, his smooth voice revealing the extent of his education. He couldnt
have been more than twenty.

Luca turned to him, smiling nervously. Twenty-eight, he said.

The young mans brows furrowed. So youre upfourteenth?

Celaena hid her impressed expression, and looked out onto the field, letting the two boys talk. She couldnt do math
like that in her head! In fact, she couldnt do any math, save for simple, simple addition, in her head. Even that, most
of the time, required parchment and a pen. There was something wrong with math that made her head spin and her
intelligence be torn to shreds. Her way of thinking couldnt wrap itself around most formulas and equations.

Luca nodded. You did well in your matchyou should be relaxing, not watching the matches.

Celaena smiled, pleased at Lucas ease with the young lord.

He laughed. If you consider missing the bloke on the first go to be an accomplishment, then sure.

But you knocked him clean off that horse.

Ah, he just wasnt holding his lance correctly. It was like hitting a baby.

It was Lucas turn to laugh. I saw thathis wrist was cocked in the wrong way.

Celaena covered her smile of surprise with her propped hand, listening to the trumpets blare again.

Two more young men trotted out onto the field, and the boys stopped talking for the two minutes that the match went
on. They continued to watch silently as the crowd cheered, and then continued as it fell quiet.

Im Raal Hynter, of the house of Kiras, he said, offering his hand.

Luca smiled, and Celaena turned her hand to watch the two boys. How wonderfully unusual for a noble to approach a
peasant boy!

Im Luca, he said awkwardly, unsure of what name to use, of the house of Baroness Du Tremaine.

Raal involuntarily winced and eyed Luca up and down. Youre notrelated to the Baroness Du Tremaine, are you?

Luca laughed. Gods above, no! I just live on her estate.

Raal let out a sigh of relief. I pity you. That womans been hounding me and my brothers for a wedding ring for the
past two years.

Luca made a disgusted face. Im not sure who is worse, Marghenna or Joline.s

Raal grinned. The fat one.

Luca laughed again.

So, Raal said, leaning forward over the railing to look at Celaena. Both the assassin and Samsirrion turned towards
him, eyebrows raised. Do you also live with the Baroness?

Celaena, unable to resist, smiled slowly. Only part-time.

Raal brushed back his dark hair, his hazel eyes sparkling. And where, exactly do you spend the rest of your time?
Luca stepped on her foot, but Celaena ignored him.

In Doranelle.

Luca coughed, and Celaena batted her eyelashes at the noble.

Raal let out a long breath. So that explains the horse.

Samsirrion? Celaena asked, waiting for him to turn pale or walk away.

He simply nodded, smiling at both of them. Only a Fae horse looks, and acts like that.

Celaena and Luca gave him a blank look.

You know, Raal said, like a person.

Celaena tossed her hair and shrugged. I think hes got as much intelligence as a pebble.

She was thrown into Luca by a hard push from behind, and she laughed as she turned to Samsirrion and
affectionately patted his nose. I was just joking, she soothed, staring into the animals eyes, and the horse, yet
again, sent a jet of hot, smelly air into her face.

Raal and Luca were laughing, and Celaena returned to face them.

So are you part-Fae? Raal asked her, and Celaenas brows rose with surprise.

How the hell can he tell?

Raal winked. Im a sixteenth FaeI can tell about these things.

Celaenas mouth twisted to the side. Im one-eighth.

His brows knotted together in surprise. Really? Thats it? I thought I detected more than that.

Celaena shrugged. Theres only been one member of the Fae in my family in the past four generations.

Raal looked to Luca and then to Celaena again, his eyes glimmering. Then it must have been a very powerful
member of the Fae.

A small smile crossed her face, but Celaena said nothing, choosing the effectiveness of silence.

So, Raal began again, shifting his attention back to Luca, have you been in many tournaments before this?

He shook his head. This is my first.

Raal gave him an impressed look. Thats very admirablethis is my third, and I was so scared that I vomited earlier
today. I think that your friend here was quite amused by that.

Luca whipped his head around to give Celaena a foul look, and then looked at Raal again. He had probably never
spoken to a noble like Raal, and Celaena mutely thanked the youth over and over again for proving to Luca that they
werent all like Brenn.

Luca chuckled. I threw up everything in my stomach on the way here this morningalmost on a few passing
vendors.

The boys laughed together, and Celaena managed a weak smile. And the matches passed, and they continued to talk,
deep in conversation. They talked of Lucas experience, how long he had been training, and it was only when they
realized that Luca was only four matches away that Celaena sent him inside to ready Samsirrion and get his armor
together.
Raal remained where he had stood beside Luca, staring out at the field.

I take it that you trained Luca?

Celaena nodded. Yes.

And who taught you? Raal pivoted his head to look at her.

Celaena shrugged. No one you would have heard of.

Try me.

Im serious, she said.

Raal laughed. Fine, keep your secrets. He took a deep breath. Its highly unusual, you know, to have a woman train
a boy like this. In fact, he paused again, the only female I can think of who does this sort of thing is Queen Maeve of
the Fae.

Celaenas blue eyes flashed.

Maeves never had any lovers.

Raal readjusted his position on the fence. Well, not since the time of Athril.

Celaena blinked. Maeve and Athril were?

Engaged, Raal finished. Didnt you know?

Celaena shook her head. I had no ideaI was never told!

Raals eyes glowed so brightly that Celaena could have sworn that she saw trees and streams and moss-covered
banks within them.

Celaena straightened up, understanding his implication. Oh, no, she exclaimed, her hands rising in defense. Oh,
Maeves not my great-grandmother.

Luca appeared behind them, leading Samsirrion out of the stables, fully dressed and ready. The fourth match had
ended, and Luca was beginning to look green again.

I never suggested that. Im just saying, Raal said softly, that there arent very many people in the world with that
kind of a Fae scent and Ashryver eyes.

Celaena opened her mouth, but Luca had reached them, smiling weakly.

Elentulyai, he said politely, do you mind he jerked his chin at Samsirrion.

Celaena looked at Raal, her heart pounding, and rushed to Luca, kneeling down. Give me your foot, she breathed,
and braced herself for Lucas weight.

Stop, stop! Raal interrupted, and Celaena and Luca turned towards him, the boys foot held mid-air.

Allow me to help you, the noble requested, reaching out a hand to raise Celaena from the ground. Celaenas slender
hand chafed against his calloused one, and she looked away awkwardly, her face red as a turnip, as the young man
assisted Luca onto his saddle.

Celaena ran into the barn and grabbed three lances, one from Maeve, one from the blacksmith, and one from their
own collection. They were incredibly heavy, and Celaena felt them slip from her arms as she carried them from the
stable. She stopped just before the horse, propping them against the ground, and handed Maeves lance to Luca. It
was painted green and pink, its handle covered in carvings and drawings of small flowers and vines, and Celaena
absorbed Raals impressed look as Luca placed the lance across his lap.

Her load lightened, she shouldered the two remaining lances, swaying a little, and took a step forward, telling Luca to
head towards the gate. She nodded at Raal, unable to meet his gaze, and then suddenly felt one of the lances slip
from her grip. She waited for it to fall to the ground, but it never happened. The young lord had grabbed it, and with a
bright grin, he asked to accompany them.

They passed by Raals tent, his attendants staring at him, and then hurried past the first stable as the trumpets
signaled the beginning of the thirteenth round. They squeezed around the stable, taking a place behind the current
jousters entourage, and placed their lances on the rack provided for them.

Celaena looked at Luca, her body feeling frail and sick. Luca, yet again, looked like he was about to face a dragon.

Raal smiled at both of them, winking at Celaena, and bowed. If you like, when youre through with your match, I
would love for you both to join me in my tent for some refreshments before your next match.

Celaena considered asking him how he knew that Luca would even still be competing, but she kept her mouth shut,
watching her protgs reaction instead.

Luca nodded, and thanked him, his head held high. The assassin said nothing, and walked up to Lucas side as soon
as he had departed.

Are you ready? she asked.

Luca rolled his eyes. Of course not.

Celaena snorted. Just imagine that youre facing against the dummy that the faeries controlledjust pretend like
your opponent isnt real. The gate flew open, and the youth in front of them charged out. He hit his opponent, but did
not dismount him, and Celaena let out a sharp breath.

Keep calm, she said, more to herself than to him. Remember: its just you and himforget the crowd and your
father. Luca stared down at her, and Celaena patted his leg. Keep your eyes on him, dont put your head down,
even if your body tells you to. Every young man thats won today did so because he didnt avert his eyeshe kept
them on the target. The contestant in front of them hit his opponent again, and his victory was announced. The
loser, having made no contact, waved to the crowd, looking a bit disappointed, and then quickly left the field.

It was their turn.

Celaenas body began to shake, and she grabbed onto Samsirrion for support. Keep calm, she whispered. Keep
calm.

Luca looked down at her, and gently kicked her shoulder with his foot. I am calm, he said brightly, and Celaena
lifted her head to look at him.

What?

Im calm.

He smiled at her, adjusting his brown gloves.

Oh, Celaena said dumbly, her arms shaking, and leaned back against the horse.

Excuse me, sir, a little voice said from Celaenas hip.

Both the assassin and the farm boy looked down to see a page of the announcer standing before them. He was
panting, and looked very rushed.

Yes? Luca asked, smiling warmly.

The youth let out a loud sigh of relief, but then began to wring his hands. You did not leave a last name or a house
when you registered, and my lord, the Master of Ceremonies, wishes to have it before you, the boy coughed, and his
voice dropped to a whisper, make a fool out of him and you.

Celaena gaped at the boy, incredulous, and looked over at the announcer before staring at the boy again. The
previous entourage gone, the pair moved to the closed gate, staring out at the crowd.

Its an odd feeling, having thousands of people stare at you. Ive never felt so small and strange in my whole life.

People in seats that bordered the entranceway leaned over the wall to look at Luca.

I never minded being infamous in Adarlan, simply because my fame was in the fact that I was completelyinvisible.

What name do I give? Luca muttered out of the corner of his mouth, and Celaena snapped to attention.

He couldnt give the Baroness name, nor could he give his fathers.

Under the guise of Celaena Sardothien, she had felt so much power, so much control over everyone and everything. It
was a name that people respected, that made her feel big and imposing. Had she faced a crowd as Adarlans assassin,
things would have been a bit different. But as Aelin Galathynius

My name, Luca said, his voice soft, is just

Luca, of the house of Sardothien, Celaena interrupted, and the pages brows expanded towards his hairline. Lucas
head whipped down to glare at her, but the boy had already hurried off across the field.

Are you mad? he cried, his eyes wide with fury and fear. Sardothien? Sardothien?

Celaena smiled lazily.

Put the princess aside and pick up the assassin. Celaena Sardothien is a name of power, a name of strength

And a name of cowardice.

Thats beside the point. To everyone else, its power.

I think its catchy.

Catchy and false and demented! Luca exclaimed, rising up in his saddle once again, his face contorted with panic.

Come on now, Celaena purred, touching his knee. The crowd will love it!

Or theyll throw whatever theyre carrying at me! Luca leaned down again, his brows knitted with anger. Run to
that Master of Ceremonies and tell him my name!

Celaena laughed mockingly and shook her head. Tell him yourself, Luca of the house of Sardothien!

The trumpets blared, and Celaena steadied herself against the wave of nervousness that washed into her stomach
once again. Come on, she said, her voice losing its edge. She grabbed Samsirrions bridle and led him up to the
gate, staring at the crowd that loomed ahead. The noise was suddenly deafening, but it was silenced by the
appearance of the Master of Ceremonies. Celaena looked at Ghent, who wasnt even looking at Luca, and then looked
at Brenns stable. No sign of him.

Ladies and gentlemen, the man said dramatically, waving his hands in the air. I give you Paolo of Sien!

The gate at across from them swung open and Paolo took a few steps out of the gate before waving to the cheering
crowd.
Against! he boomed, and the crowd silenced itself. The announcer looked at the parchment in his hand, and a
startled look came across his face. He paused, and the crowd seemed to simultaneously lean forward to see what the
commotion was all about. The Master of Ceremonies smiled with amusement before he took a deep breath and
exclaimed:

Luca of the House of Sardothien!

The crowd was silent for a moment before whispers broke out across the stadium, buzzing like a swarm of bees. As
Luca walked through the opened gate, he turned around to scowl at Celaena, who only offered him a sheepish smile.
Luca waved his gloved hand, only to hear more whispering. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow, and he flashed
his charming smile, setting off his good looks. The assassin watched in satisfaction as several womencourt ladies
and peasants alikecraned their necks to see him.

Luca returned to the gateway and glared at Celaena, refusing to speak to her. Three notes blasted from the
trumpeters, and Luca and Paolo nudged their horses into a trot. Celaena felt a bit of pride surge in her breast as she
saw him make his way across the field, his hair bouncing and his armor shining, and shake hands with his opponent.

Paolo was blond and slender, with the makings of a first beard appearing on his chin, and his uneasy smile at Luca
displayed a kind of carefree grace that only nobility could possess. His horse matched his hair, and the pale color of
his armor could easily have been an accessory as well.

Luca trotted back to the gate and turned around, facing the field once again. He was breathing heavily, his eyes
focused on the other gate, and Celaena could have sworn that she heard him muttering a prayer beneath his breath.

Luca, Celaena began, but he turned to her and let out a nasty curse directed at her. His eyes revealed that his
nerves were now almost on breaking point, and Celaena let out a coy smile to reassure him.

Its just you and a dummy, remember that, she said.

The trumpets blared four times, and the announcer stood once more. On my count, he said, and Celaena handed
Luca his helmet. He quickly put it on, and held out his hand for a lance. Celaena instinctively gave him Maeves. He
raised it into the saddle, holding it ready. The crowd was as silent as a graveyard.

One,

Celaena took a step back and looked at Luca, her eyes bright. He did not look back at her.

Two,

Her heart was pounding so hard that she had to place a hand over her chest to stop it from bursting out onto the
ground and running away.

The two seconds before the announcer finished his count were some of the longest in her life. She looked at Luca in
the saddle, at the way he seemed so delicately balanced and found herself doing a strange thing.

She reached out, not with her body but with her mind, her heart wishing so fervently that he would remain in his
saddle that she could feel an invisible hand touching the hard leather. She imagined him glued in the saddle, held in
place by several firm hands, cold against the metal of his armor

Unusual lines of hot and cold ran down her body, her hair standing on-end.

Three

Luca raised his lance, and Celaena visualized a strong hand wrapping around his wrist, holding it secure.

GO!

Luca flew from his gate, galloping at top speed, Samsirrion making the palomino horse look like a donkey as he
crossed the field. The white bars of the divider fence blurred as Luca passed by, his lance steady. Celaena could feel
Samsirrions legs moving beneath her, and she placed a steadying hand on the fence to keep herself from falling over.
Hold on, hold onkeep your eyes on him

Luca reached Paolo, and Celaena felt a part of her lash out and grab onto her friend, holding him tightly in his saddle.
She felt the thrust of the lance, the power behind it, and then

CRASH

Impact.

Celaena felt a massive force strike against her chest and push her back. Splinters were flying everywhere, and her
arm began to ache from the force of Lucas blow. Paolo was leaning back, back, back

His torso twisted, and Celaenas eyes grew wide as the youth slid from his horse and onto the ground. There was
silence, dead silence as the horses stopped, and just as Luca turned around in his seat to see the damage, a roar
unlike any before erupted from the crowd.

He had done it!

A scream of victory burst from her lips, and Celaena leapt into the air, screaming her lungs out as waves of pleasure
and pride exploded within her. She didnt even hear the Master of Ceremonies announce Lucas victory, to which the
crowd responded with more cheering.

AHA! AHA!!

Luca dismounted his horse and helped Paolo to his feet, removing his helmet and clapping the youth on the back
before shaking hands. He could barely contain his smile of joy as he swung beneath the fence to lead Samsirrion back
to the gate. Celaena, not even waiting until he had passed through the gate, leapt upon him, showering him with
kisses.

Oh, you wonderful, wonderful boy! You did it! You damn did it! You knocked him off that damn horse like a, Celaena
cursed wickedly, professional!

She kissed his face and his hair, squeezing him so tightly that he emitted a cry of protest, but she didnt care. She
leapt up and down, oblivious to the scene that they were causing, making Luca to flop into the air like a giant, silver
fish. He smelled like sweat and horses, but she didnt care. They had won!

Let go, let go! Luca cried, and he firmly pushed Celaena back. She was beaming so broadly that her mouth hurt.
The assassin turned to the horse. Youre brilliant, absolutely brilliant, Samsirrion! The horse simply tossed his mane
and trotted back towards their stable, leaving the two of them to get the remaining two lances. Celaena could have
skipped the whole way back if it werent for the length and weight of the thing.

You know, Luca panted, his face lit with joy and exhaustion. I felt so confident up there, so stronglike I knew I
couldnt fall!

Celaenas step and smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at Luca. He was laughing with delight.

Luca of the House of Sardothien indeed! he grinned.

Celaena forced a smile, her stomach quickly turning into a mix of worry and guilt. Had she cheated? Had she used
magick, real magick, to cheat? What if someone found out? Could anyone find out?

It wasnt intentional!

What a lie!

Celaena hurried back to their stable, Luca trotting behind, pausing to shake hands with Raal. Celaena merely flashed a
smile at the lord before running back to the stable, her heart pounding. Anxiety nipped at her nerves. Would they be
expelled from the competition if someone found out about what she had done? Could anyone even tell?
It wasnt mentioned in the rules! And if Wendlyn is as magickal as everyone says it is, then if it wasnt mentioned,
then magick must be fair game!

Celaena put her lance back in the cart, her brows knitting for a moment before Luca came bounding in.

Unless its expected that we use magick

Come! Luca said, grabbing her by the hands. Help me get this armor off so we can sit with Raal!

Celaena nodded and began to unbuckle the armor, ruffling his hair. It was incredible that he had won, but she couldnt
help but wonder how much support she had actually given him.

She placed the armor on the dummy that had been provided, and handed Luca a clean pair of clothes, apparently his
finest. They were nice, even though his boots were a bit old.

He darted into an empty pen and changed quickly, running a hand through his knotted hair to get rid of the tangles.
He wiped the sweat from his face, and grinned at Celaena.

Until its mentioned, Im not even going to think about it.

Besides, if no one brought it up just after the match, then perhaps it wasnt even noticed.

Celaena felt the joy and adrenaline of winning rush back, and pushed aside her confusion. If only Dorian were here to
see this!

Hed never believe that I, almost completely uneducated about jousting, have taught and created a champion! He
wouldnt hear the end of it!

Celaena clapped Luca on the back and told the page to take care of Samsirrion while they were gone. They had a
while now, in fact, possibly over an hour, until Luca was up again, and Celaena planned to take full advantage of
Raals generosity. He could say all that he liked about Fae and Ashryver nonsense, so long as Luca kept on winning.

Her arm around the boys shoulder, Celaena and Luca walked over to their new companions tent, grinning the whole
way.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

I cant believe that you learned how to joust like that from simply training in the woods using a dummy! Raal
laughed, and Celaena grinned as she took a sip of her wine. It was thin and sour in her mouth, though its aftertaste
was pleasantly fruity.

Luca was leaning back in his chair, nibbling at a piece of cheese. We did what we could with our resources.

And I take it that the Baroness Du Tremaine had no idea that this was going on?

We practiced at dawn and just before sundown every day.

Raal gave them an impressed look. Thats a lot of traininghow did you two even manage to work after that?

Me? Ha! You should ask Elentulyai! Shes had to balance training me with her own training with

Celaena coughed loudly, and Luca caught himself.

Youre training, Elentulyai? Raal turned towards her, his eyebrows raised.

Do you want to become a knight as well?

Smart-ass.
If I were, Celaena asked sweetly, would there be a problem?

Raal adjusted his green cloak and shook his head. Of course not, though it would be nice to know with whom you are
training.

Celaena leaned over Raal and gave Luca a silencing look.

No one in particular. She finished her goblet of wine and asked for another one.

Raal shrugged, giving up. So, Luca, he said with a wry smile, you didnt tell me that you were akin to the infamous
Sardothien.

Im not, Luca said bluntly, and jerked his chin at Celaena. She told the page to use that name.

Why not your own? Celaena looked at Raals olive-skinned face, waiting for any sign of malice, but only found good
intentions and a curious personality.

I, Luca blushed, my mother and father werent exactly

Ah, Raal said, and squeezed Lucas shoulder. Theres no need for embarrassment. He looked at Celaena, his young
face beaming. Ele seems to have come up with a decent name for you to use. I think Sardothiens a wonderful way
to win the crowd overyou certainly made quite an entrance.

Ele? Celaena interrupted. Like Ella?

Elentulyais a mouthful, Raal smirked. Like a lot of names in Eyputiusunn.

I thought you were from Trasien, Luca said, leaning forward to join the conversation, obviously confused.

Celaena shot him a dark look.

Trasien? Raal asked, his mouth curving into a half-smile. How did someone from Trasien wind up with a name from
Eyputiusunn?

Celaena shifted in her seat, and lifted her chin in the air.

Luca, you fool!

She had tried to remain aloof in their conversation, but it now seemed impossible. Raal was too smart.

I had very cultured parents, she said coolly.

Yes, well, Trasien was once known for that aboutwhat? Twenty years ago?

Celaena stared at the lord, wondering if he and Galan Ashryver were friends.

How old are you? Nineteen, twenty?

Twenty-two, Celaena said dully.

Twenty two! Raal exclaimed. I thought you were my age!

I get that a lot.

Raal sat back in his chair and laughed, looking up at the sunlit white canopy above. So you must have grown up
during quite an interesting time, he said, lowering his gaze.
Celaena looked at Lucas eager gaze and scowled. If you call invasion and conquest interesting, then yes, it was an
interesting period to have grown up in.

Ele, Luca said, then chuckled, hasnt really told us that much about her past, save for the fact that she worked for

Luca!

Celaenas mouth had popped open. She would not have yet another noble in Wendlyn figure out and spread the word
about her secret. Luca, shouldnt you be getting ready for your next match?

This round isnt even over! There are still at least eight more to go!

Well, then, Im sure that Raal has to get ready.

She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms, and looked at the nobleman. Raal shook his head. Not for a while, Ele.

Its Elentulyai.

What difference does it make? Raal asked, exchanging a grin with Luca.

Someone very special to me gave me that name! Celaena felt a pang of sorrow grip her chest.

So its not your real one? Raal inquired.

Celaena pivoted in her chair to face the opposite direction, namely, the food table, and refused to comment.

Oh, come now, Elentulyai, dont be so upset. Luca and I were merely teasing you.

Celaena refused to look at them, trying to gain control of the spinning feeling in her head. She couldnt think about
Anuksun, not right now

Then youre an idiot for using her name!

There was a heavy hand on her knee, and Celaena closed her eyes as she turned her head even further away. She
was in no mood to have her name tampered with, let alone to have a practical stranger try to pry into her past.

Im sorry if I offended you, Raal said softly, and she heard Luca laugh.

Id be careful if I were you, Lord Raal! Luca chuckled. If her Fae lover sees you, itll be your neck! Celaenas eyes
flew open and she whirled around in her seat, ready to kill Luca for his wine-induced idiocy.

Raal quickly withdrew his hand and raised an eyebrow. Fae lover?

Luca doesnt know what hes talking about.

Luca snorted. Dont be so shy around us, Ele!

I dont think that choosing to keep my private life private is being shy.

But

Celaena looked out on the field and fell silent as she saw the contestant.

Against, the announcer was saying.

Celaena bit on her lip as the far gate opened to reveal

Lord Brenn of the House of Ghent!

Luca almost leapt from his seat as the name was called, and Raals face contorted in confusion at the sudden silence
of his two companions.

Celaena looked at Baron Ghent, who was applauding with enthusiasm.

Luca looked pale.

But Raal, who was suddenly looking at the field and back at Luca, looked amazed.

Ghent is your father?

Luca almost topped from his chair, his face flushing.

What difference does it make? Celaena snapped defensively.

Raal put a hand on his chest and shook his head. None at all.

He smiled at Luca and patted him on the back. If you ask me, however, I would rather have you with that title than
Brenn.

You dont care for Brenn? Luca asked cautiously.

Dont care? I hate him almost as much as I hate the daughters of Baroness Du Tremaine! Raal pointed at the box of
nobles, just behind the Lord of pel. You see those two young men seated behind the Lord of pels throne? Those
are my brothers. They hate Brenn more than I, and thats saying something.

Why? Luca asked, incredulous.

Because hes a selfish, arrogant pig who thinks that he owns all of the lands in this region. Look at how my brothers
are booing him! Theyre making a total spectacle of themselves, but all of the nobility could care less, simply because
they know that theyre right. I pity your fatherhes a wonderful man. Raal sighed and grinned at Luca.

Your father must be proud of your skill.

He doesnt even know what I look like, Luca said darkly. Let alone my name.

I think he knows more than you think, and Ill be sure to watch him the next time you joust, just to see if Im
correct.

Celaena felt a sudden urge to kiss Raal on the mouth, but she instead just gripped the armrest for support.

Thank you, Luca said softly.

Raal chuckled, his light demeanor lessoning the tension. Think nothing of it.

The trumpets issued their warning, and the three companions turned their heads to look upon the field. The Master of
Ceremonies bellowed his count.

Celaena watched Brenn, her jaw tight. His armor was finely made, far superior to Lucas, and while his dark horse was
far from anything born in Doranelle, it looked imposing and strong enough to pass for one. Though Ghents heir was
only a year younger, with his broad frame and abundant confidence, he could easily have passed for Celaenas age.
He was as arrogant and cruel-looking as Celaena had remembered him, and her hands clenched the armrests as her
eyes began to blaze with the memory.

On the announcers command, the competitors charged at each other, Brenns horse gaining speed at twice the rate
of his opponent. Within a few seconds, the youth had slammed his lance into the chest of his opponent, so close to his
neck that, a few inches higher, and he could have been disqualified. Above the explosion of the crowd, Celaena made
out a cry of pain, and she rose to her feet to see Brenns opponent drop his lance and tumble from the saddle.

He lay there, unmoving, a hand clutched across his shoulder, and Brenn pulled his horse to a stop, pivoting to look at
his fallen opponent before trotting off the field.

Three mena servant and two older, finely dressed onesrushed out onto the field and knelt beside the boy, worry
written across their faces. The crowd began to quiet, and Celaena took a step forward to see what was going on.

They removed the boys helmet, and a hiss issued from between her teeth as she saw the shade of the boys face:
pale, pale white. His eyes were bunched together with pain, and his mouth was open wide, as if he were either trying
to scream or breathe. His three attendants called to someone off the field, and within seconds a long, wooden
stretcher appeared, carried between two men dressed in the yellow robes of a healer.

The crowd was whispering now, and their hushed buzzing only increased as the healers and the other three men
gently lifted the boy onto the slab of wood. One of the older men, rising with the healers, leaned over to speak to the
youth, and Celaena saw, with some amount of relief, that the boys eyes and lips were attempting to move. As they
carried him off of the field, the crowd broke out with polite applause, which stopped the moment the announcer
declared Brenn the winner.

Brenn waved from the far gate, grinning, but the crowd ignored him, and leaned back in their seats, waiting for the
next match.

Celaena turned to the two boys beside her, who had also risen, and cursed. That blow was too close to the neckline.

Raal shook his head, cursing as well; his black eyebrows low over his darkened eyes. Tam, he said, indicating the
loser, should have shielded himself better, and probably should have been on the defensive, given that Brenn was
charging at him at that speed, but that blow was pretty foul.

Luca turned to his new friend, confused. It wasnt above the neckhow can it be foul?

Raal grimaced. There are several points on the bodypressure points to be exactthat, when a strong amount of
force is applied in a swift manner, can be deadly or as painful as any major wound. Theres one in the left chest, just
beneath the collarbone, thats hard to discover, but once you know where it is and how to hit it, it becomes a sure-fire
way to knock someone off their horse.

It wasnt mentioned in the rules, Luca said, and he glanced at Celaena. Ele, you didnt tell me anything about that
either.

Raal waved a hand in the air, commanding Celaena not to bother explaining. It wasnt mentioned simply because its
not even honorable to do sono knight, or would-be knight, would ever dare to do something like that in front of a
crowd, though it would probably go unnoticed in terms of technicality, just as this was. Its something that youre
taught how to do only to survive, not to win in competitions. I had to beg my father for two years to get him to teach
me, and even then it was only because I managed to be caught in the middle of a fight with, guess who, Brenn and
his friends, and I didnt exactly have the best advantage.

Celaena winked at Luca. Of course she knew about the pressure points. She had used that same exact pressure point
to pin down one of Brenns friends, and had used them several times to kill. In fact, if Tam hadnt been wearing his
armor, that blow would have killed him.

Raal caught her gesture and raised his eyebrows at Luca. I take it youve been in a similar situation?

Luca nodded.

Raal snorted. And what was the cause of it?

Luca tossed his hair and took a bite of cheese from his plate. Aside from the fact that Im a year older than Brenn,
the last time it happened, it was because of this tournament. He didnt want me to sign up, but I did, and, wellthings
quickly turned into a three against one fight.

Howd you manage to get out of it?

Celaena deliberately looked away as Luca jerked her chin in her direction.

Raal clapped her on the shoulder, and Celaena slightly moved her head to look down at the tight brown sleeves of his
shirt. You train knights and you beat up wrong-doing nobles? Are you some sort of super-human?

Not if you consider her cooking skills, Luca chimed in, and Celaena brushed off Raals hand to snarl at both of them.

I am what I am, and could care less about your inquiries and opinions, she declared, and took a seat again. Raal
laughed.

If only I had had a fair maiden to rescue me when I got into a scuffle with Brenn! Celaena let out a loud Hmph!
but continued to listen. The boys sat down, and Raal asked for a glass of water.

You see, I was spending the day in Peregrinnothankfully, long before the battle, Celaena felt a sharp pang of pain
again, and brushed aside the image of the blood-soaked battlements from her mind. Her shoulder began to ache, and
she reflexively began to rub it as Raal continued. And I was trying to buy this girl that I was sweet on a presentyou
know, some nice piece of fabricone of the things that Peregrinno is known forwhen Brenn and this two friends
came into the shop. He asked me if I were buying such a flamboyant piece for myself, and I made the mistake of
telling him that I was actually buying it for his mother, and, as you said, one thing let to another, and before I knew
it, I was in the middle of a square, practically unconscious.

Luca let out a loud laugh, and Celaena reluctantly joined in. The pages were almost done clearing the field, and the
assassin crossed her legs, leaning back in her cushioned chair.

The young lord grinned at Luca. Do you have a girl of any sort?

Celaena smiled wickedly at Lucas immediate embarrassment. Yes, he stammered. She lives on my estate as well.

What does she look like? Raal was still grinning like a fool, and Celaena put a propped hand over her mouth as she
leaned against an armrest to look at Luca squirm.

Shes smallslender, I guess. With brown hair and large, brown eyes.

Ah, Raal replied. Shes a real native.

Actually, Celaena interrupted. The real human natives are from Trasien. Glamasil created a human woman and
brought her with him when he was banished across the ocean. It took thousands of years for humans to finally
immigrate back to this part of the world, and thousands of more years for them to finally adapt and evolve to fit their
environment.

Luca had a dumbfounded look across his face, but Raals mouth dropped into an impressed frown. You never told me
that you were a historian!

Celaena stuck out her tongue and shook her hair. Anyway, Stephaenya is a pretty girl, regardless of her familys
origin.

Luca rolled his eyes.

I suppose that shes a bit quiet, Celaena continued, knowing that it was time for revenge, but shes got a bit of fire
beyond that demure curtain, wouldnt you say, Luca?

Luca grumbled something about Celaenas large mouth, and the assassin let out a jolly laugh, leaning back in her
chair again.

And what about your lover, Ele? Raal inquired, and Celaenas eyes flashed.

Which one? she cooed, batting her eyelashes. Raal looked surprised for a moment, and then chuckled.

How about the Prince of Adarlan? Luca snapped from beside Raal, and Celaena almost spat out the blueberries she
had popped into her mouth. A grave expression came across Raals face.
Youyou know the Prince of Adarlan? When exactly did you come over here from the West?

His voice was quiet, and his hazel eyes darkened once again, turning a shade of mahogany. The crowd was cheering
again, its enthusiasm brought back by the onslaught of two, fair-playing competitors.

Luca, you stupid, foolish boy!

I did, she said, straightening up in her seat and ignoring his second question.

Why would Dorian DeHavilliard allow anyone with Fae blood to be associated with him? Raals eyes remained the
same. Celaena shrugged.

He didnt know.

Then how did the King of Adarlan track down and exile or murder every Fae or mixed-blooded person in his empire?
If he could hang someone for having a sixteenth of Fae blood in them, then why couldnt he detect it in you?

The sound of lances striking armor and the ruckus of the crowd silenced them for a moment.

Thats a good questionwhy didnt anyone detect my heritage? Maeve told me once that she had searched all over
the world for me, and that she had eventually given up. I managed to hide itsomehow.

Raal waited for the crowd to silence itself. The only people that can conceal their magick are those with royal blood,
with Glamasils tampered bloodline.

And? Celaena asked, her cheeks burning as she felt Lucas gaze.

So, if youll excuse me for prying, that means that youve got quite an interesting heritage; and, unless you were
able to lie about whatever royalty you have in your family, then Adarlans king would have known about your history.

For a country noble, youve certainly got quite a mind in that head of yours.

Raal smiled, the color returning to his eyes. Ive actually spent a good portion of my life studying in the Capital with
Galan Ashryver.

You know Galan? Celaena spat out before she could catch her tongue.

Raal raised an eyebrow. Yes, he said cautiously, eying her. Do you?

Probably, Luca snorted contemptuously. She seems to know everyone.

No! Celaena exclaimed, and then regained control of herself. No, I do not know him.

But youve got Raal began, his face full of mischief.

Ive got nothing in common with him, she hissed, and Raal closed his mouth, understanding her implication to keep
her similarities a secret from her friend.

The trumpets signaled the start of the second to last match in the first round. Raal rose to his feet, and bowed to both
of them. If youll excuse me, Im afraid that I have to go prepare now. Its been wonderful talking to both of you
feel free to remain here until you have to suit up again.

Celaena and Luca rose and shook his hand, wishing him good luck and thanking him for his hospitality. Raal, not
surprisingly, laughed, and told them to sit down and gorge themselvesLuca would need all of the strength he could
muster. He gave Celaena a roguish wink before disappearing through the back fold of the tent and into the stables.

Celaena watched him go, a smile of amazement and disbelief on her face, and hoped that someday Adarlan would be
filled with young men like him.
PART TWO: CHAPTER 20: PART II

There was a half hour break between the rounds, and Raal took the entire time to prepare for this match, an act that
included going to speak to his two brothers, having another glass of wine, and then silently slinking into an empty pen
for a few quiet minutes alone. Celaena, despite his prying and cunning, admired the young lord: he was the kind of
boy that would grow into a wonderful man, dedicated to his family, country, and king. Galan Ashryver would be
fortunate to have him serve in his future court.

In fact, she would be fortunate to have him serve in her court.

If there ever is one.

Luca seemed to be sitting straighter than she had ever seen him, his eyes bright and his chin upheld. Somehow, Raal
had managed to give Luca more confidence in a few hours than she had tried to inject in a few months.

Its amazing what an effect the same sex can have on you! Perhaps its just got something to do with hormones
though I bet society has a lot to do with it as well.

Luca began to tap his foot, his knee bobbing up and down with rapid speed, as Raal rode past them, waving goodbye
once more. They wished him good luck, and followed him to the fence, where he pulled his horse to a stop in front of
the gate. As the trumpets announced the end of the intermission, the crowd went wild once more, and as the Master
of Ceremonies called out Raal and his opponents names, the noise was deafening.

Though Raal was not astoundingly handsome, he looked attractive in his armor, and as he flashed his impish smile to
the crowd, several ladies nearby hurled flowers at him. Raal laughed at his reception, and rode out to meet his
opponent, his hair bouncing like his grey horses white tail. He shook hands with his competitor, said something that
made the anxious-looking boy laugh, and then galloped back to the stables, putting on a show of glamour and glory
that made Celaena click her tongue with amusement.

He certainly knows how to win the crowd.

Luca was clutching the fence, and Celaena found herself gripping it as well as Raal put his helmet on, slammed the
visor shut, and stared ahead, deep in concentration. His blue and green lance looked more like decoration than a
weapon, but as soon as his squire had handed it to him, Raal held it in a way that made Celaena gulp for his
opponents sake.

The Master of Ceremonies counted off, and the second his command had burst from his red-tinted lips, Raal was flying
across the pen, dirt bursting from beneath his horses hooves.

A resonating BOOM exploded from both opponents, and Raal leaned back in his saddle, but regained his countenance
quickly. His opponent, who had took the blow far worse, struggled for a moment, but then kept his balance. Raal
nodded to the boy and galloped back to the gate, dropping his lance to the ground and grasping in the air for another
one. The announcer signaled again, and Raal charged out with as much energy as before, landing a blow in the upper
left shoulder that sent his opponent flying from the saddle. He pulled his horse to a stop as the crowd cried its
support, and swung under the fence, helping the boy to his feet. They nodded to each other in a sign of good health,
and shook hands before returning.

Celaena and Luca, caught up in the thrill of it all, were cheering, and they returned to the shade of the tent as Raal
pulled in, dismounting quickly. He accepted the thanks of his entourage, and he walked beneath the canopy of the
tent, ripping his helmet from his head.

His face was coated in sweat, and his dark hair fell limply around his face. Water, he panted, dropping the helmet
onto the ground as he sunk into his chair between the two companions. A servant swiftly arrived with a goblet, which
Raal downed in a few gulps, and then handed him another, which the young lord consumed as greedily. He gave the
servant the empty cup, declining a third, and put his head between his knees, breathing hard.

Luca and Celaena looked down at him, unsure of whether to congratulate him or ask if he needed a bucket.

Ah, he said between breaths, That was exhausting. He continued to pant, his hands clutching his knees. Please,
just more breathing, give me a moment.
Celaena and Luca told him to take his time, worried expressions crossing their faces, and waited for him to sit up. He
eventually did, after a few more moments of intense breathing, and he smiled at the two of them.

He completely knocked the air out of me, Raal said, leaning back and closing his eyes, his armored chest heaving.
But I didnt realize it until I was halfway down the field again, and even then I refused to let it get to me until I got
back. He laughed weakly and shook his head. Oh, that was so foolish of me! My brothers will kill me for that.

What discipline! If that happened to me, Id complain and cry.

Well, Luca said, it looked as if you had it completely together.

I took acting lessons for three years when I was a little boy.

Celaena laughed, remembering her own childhood encounter with music lessons.

He continued to pant, and Celaena frowned. Should we fetch you a healer?

Raal raised a hand and waved her off. No, no. I just need a few minutes, thats all.

Celaena and Luca exchanged looks. Luca, she said suddenly, looking at the start of the next match, you should go
changeyoure up seventh.

Luca looked at his friend and then back at her.

Shes right, Raal said, dropping his head between his knees again. Dont worry about mego change back into
your armor.

Luca ran a hand through his brown hair, and his eyes seemed to have that despairing hue once again. He said
nothing, and walked out of the tent, jogging down the track to their stable.

You should go with him, Raal said, turning his head to her, his mouth open and lips pale.

Celaena shook her head. He doesnt need me for another few minutes.

Raal eventually regained control of his breathing and sat up. His breastplate, once shiny, was now dented and covered
in scratches. Ah, he said, examining it, what a pity. I had hoped to escape from this competition with a suit of
armor that looked in prime condition.

He grinned at Celaena, who gave him a sympathetic smile in return.

My brothers are dying to know who the lovely damsel is that Im sharing my tent with.

Celaena rolled her eyes and looked out across the field to find his two brothers, who couldnt have been more than a
year or two older or younger than Raal, waving at them. Raal stood up and waved back, pointing at Celaena before
nudging her to wave to them. She stood, adjusting her tight, forest green pants and billowing silver-green tunic, and
waved awkwardly. The two brothers cackled and pushed each other, obviously as playful and full of laughter as their
other brother.

How old are they? she asked, sitting down.

Raal reseated himself. The one on the left, Uli, is seventeen, and the other one, Kapo, is nineteen.

And how old are you?

Raal ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Twenty, four months shy of being twenty-one.

Do you and your brothers get along?

Raal laughed. When we were younger, we only got along when we really wanted to do something naughtybut most
of the time, no. But as we progressed into adolescence, and as I began to spend more and more time studying in the
capital, we began to get along. Now, I guess that you could say that were the best of friendsthough we do have our
own spats every once in a while. Raal pulled off his black gloves and began to unbuckle his armor, placing it in Lucas
empty chair. Do you have any siblings?

No, I was an only child.

Thats a curse and a blessing.

Celaena shrugged, and smiled at the memory, which, for some reason, didnt seem to upset her. I had a cousin who
was a year or so older than I, and he

Raal was giving her a strange, stunned look.

Is there something wrong? she asked, her overtly cheerful voice giving her away.

Raal held up his bare hand, on which glistened a silver ring, its surface a flat oval engraved with what seemed to be

A stag, she said softly, unintentionally, knowing now that she had crossed the line to a position where she hated to
be, yet couldnt avoid. But a part of her remarked and took pride in the fact that, had this occurred a month or so
ago, say the last time she spoke to Galan Ashryver, she would have lost control and fled.

Do you know what this ring means? Raal asked, his hazel eyes turning into the forest that she had seen earlier.

Its the symbol for Athril and for the House of Trasien, she said, her voice soft. She had had no problems partially
revealing her identity to those in Peregrinno, but to someone else, to someone aside from Maeve and Raonn

Yes, and no. This ring is a symbol for all those dedicated to the idea that Trasien is under false, unjust rule.

Had Maeve known about this? Had she known that there was someone here who was still looking for Aelin
Galathynius?

Thats interesting, she replied with a beaming smile, desperately trying to regain control of her spinning world.

Galan Ashryver and I, as well as my brothers and several of our friends and family members, all bear this ring.
Glaston wears it, my father wears it, and even Ghent wears it. It is a group made up of those that personally knew
Evaelien and Rhoe, and those that heard and grew up with the legend, and now want to fight for it.

Her heart was thump-thump-thumping and she looked at the stable anxiously, waiting for Lucas return.

Were part of a society, a group of men and women that knows what really happened that night, and that knows,
deep within the depths of our hearts, that Trasiens heir is still alive.

The tent was suddenly too hot, and Aelin motioned for a glass of water.

Raal was not smiling anymore.

When I heard that Aelin of Trasien had helped Peregrinno survive the night and go onto victory over Adarlan, I
thought it was a practical joke.

The young lord played with the ring, not looking at her. So I went to Peregrinno with my brothers to verify it, and
sure enough, one of their city elders had known Evaelien Ashryver, and told me that the woman claiming to be her
daughter was, in fact, the real thing. They looked almost identical: long, golden hair, a strong frame, ivory skin, and
those unmistakable, unforgettable, blue eyes.

Still, I couldnt believe it. So we went to the capital to visit our good friend, the Crown Prince. He had just returned
from his own adventures in warfare, and the second we met, he knew why we were there. He told us that it was true,
that he had actually met her several times, and that she was hiding somewhere in this region, especially close to the
Baroness Du Tremaines estate or Ghents house.
Celaena scratched at her wrist, avoiding the now-intense gaze of the youth, trying to keep her face as neutral as
possible.

Maeve had to have interfered somehow. But what was this society? Were all of Trasiens royals in this group, or was it
just a select few? She didnt recall Galan ever wearing a ring, or even mentioning it when he had discovered her
identity.

Galan also told me that Aelin was scared, almost to the point of insanity, and afraid to come out about who she really
was.

Scared? Me?

Its true and you know it!

I have to go, Celaena said suddenly, knowing that now was not the time or the place for this sort of thing, especially
with a young man who was still partially a stranger.

Please, Raal said, grabbing her arm before she could fully stand. Please dont be frightened.

She stared at the ground, feeling like a rabbit caught in a hunt, and waited until he released her before sitting back in
her chair. Outside, the tournament went on, and there were only three more matches until Luca was up.

I know that you cant be as afraid as Galan says you are, simply because, from what Ive gathered, youve been
training with the Fae.

Who says that she began snappishly.

The beginning of Elentulyai sounds an awful lot like Aelin.

Its just a coincidence. A friend gave me that name.

People in Eyputiusunn are known for their clairvoyance.

My friend wasnt.

I heard that the princess of Eyputiusunn, Anuksun, was murdered several months ago at the Palace of Renaril.

She whipped her head to glare at him, barring her teeth. Dont talk about things you know nothing about.

Raal held up his hands. I didnt mean to offend you. I was just observing the coincidence between your presence in
Adarlan with the Crown Prince and her presence as well.

She was silent. He couldnt know about the kings plan, could he?

Is that why you came here? Raal asked gently.

Thank the Goddess above.

Wendlyn is the last safeguard against Adarlan.

Raal let out a long breath. Luca was walking towards them, Samsirrion following behind.

Here, he said, removing his ring from his smallest finger. Have it.

Celaena didnt take it from his outstretched hand. How long did it take for you to realize who I am?

Raals brows interlocked. I began to suspect when I saw youespecially your eyesbut when I felt your Fae
heritage, and learned of the exact lineage, and when Luca began to tell me bits and pieces about your pastit was
then that I began to know. I only knew for sure, however, when you mentioned Aedion Ashryver.
You knew Aedion? Her heart felt as if it were being squished beneath an anvil.

Hes Galans third cousin. Though his mother, your cousin, went over to live with Evaelien before he was born, he is
still kin.

Celaena looked at the ring, at the worn insignia, listening to the crowd cheering.

We, he said, rubbing the ring between two calloused fingers, are dedicated to finding both of the Ashryver children
that were lost that night.

Aedions a general for Adarlans army.

He was also supposed to come over to attack Peregrinno, but word has it that he was delayed in the mountains.

Raal grabbed her hand and put the ring in her palm, closing her fingers around it. Take it, he ordered. I will keep
your secret, if that is what you wish, but let me tell you that word has spread that Aelin Galathynius won the battle at
Peregrinno, and that there is an eye in every household looking for her.

Luca reached the tent, grinning, and inquired about Raals health. Celaena quickly withdrew her hand, pocketing the
ring, and turned to Luca. Her heart was still racing and her face was undeniably red, but she stood and told Luca to
mount his horse. There were only two more matches until his turn.

Raal called for a servant to help him mount, and Luca led Samsirrion out of the tent just in time to prevent the horse
from consuming the entire dish of berries. Celaena stood before Raal, feeling the weight of the ring in her pocket, and
stared into his eyes.

You should attend the ball, Raal said with a familiar smile and a wink. Galan told me that he invited you, and, from
the way he went on about you, it sees that hes grown quite fond of yoursassy behavior.

Im not available to

I know that youre involved with someone, Raal said, exasperated. And you put up such a good fight with this
denial and secrecy of yours that its not even worth it to try to pry from you who it is.

He stood up and led her to where Luca now sat perched upon his horse, his helmet tucked in the crook of his arm, two
small boys carrying their three lances between them like fallen trees.

But I cant help but wonder, he said under his breath so that only she could hear, what you were doing in Renaril
with the Crown Prince of Adarlan.

Celaena shot him a mean look, and grabbed Samsirrions bridle, formally thanking him for his hospitality as he wished
them luck.

Celaena Sardothien took a lance from the rack, another of Maeves marvelous ones, and looked up at Luca, who still
sat in the saddle.

How do you feel?

Luca sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. Beyond the small, wooden gate, the crowd
was a blur of noise.

A bit less nervous than before, but I still feel as if Im about to throw up. He glanced down at her. How do you
feel?

Why do you ask?

You looked a bit shaken when I came to get you just now. His eyes narrowed. Did Raal say anything to

No, no, she said quickly, touched by his defensiveness. Im just a bit nervous, thats all.
Ill be fine.

The match ended, and Celaena clutched Samsirrions bridle, waiting for the youth (who had lost) in front of them to
move himself and his following out of the way. The Master of Ceremonies walked onto the field, waiting for it to be
cleared, and Celaena watched with interest as she saw the Baron Ghent staring at Luca, his eyes slightly wide, his
hands white-knuckled as they grasped the armrests.

Thankfully, the farm boy didnt notice the unmistakable attention of his father, his gaze focused on the announcer now
addressing the crowd.

Just do the same thing that you did before: Samsirrion will probably beat the other horse in terms of speed, so you
may have the advantage of striking first and hardest with the momentum.

Luca nodded, and took a deep breath as the purple man called out the name of his opponent.

And, he was saying, I give youLuca, of the House of Sardothien!

The gate open and Luca trotted out to wave, flashing his charming smile, ducking more than a few thrown flowers. He
began to pull on Samsirrions reins, but the horse decided it hadnt had enough attention, and so it gracefully reared,
causing Lucas free hand to fly upwards. But the youth, now used to the weight of his armor and slowly understanding
the power of the crowd, leaned forward in his saddle, turning his wild motion into an enthusiastic wave as the crowd
eagerly responded with more cheers and flowers. Samsirrion landed, approached his competitor for Luca to shake
hands, before trotting back to the gate with a flamboyant clip clop clippitty clip! and pivoting around within the
entrance of the gate.

Celaena handed Luca his lance and watched him put on his helmet. The smooth front and domed top shone in the
midday sun, and Celaena peered through the dark slits to stare into his eyes. Their opponent looked like an average
youth, there was nothing interesting about his face or demeanor, though he did smile pleasantly at Luca when they
exchanged hands.

The announcer began to count, and Celaena took a step back. Keep your eyes on him, she said, and Luca nodded,
raising his lance a bit higher, his feet pushing against the leather stirrups for support.

THREE.

Celaena grabbed onto the fence, her nerves shaking once again, and felt a part of her accidentally lash out towards
Luca, wrapping itself around his midriff for support. Hot and cold, fire and ice, chills and burns swirled across her body
in invisible streams.

I shouldnt be doing this

But she couldnt stop herself. He seemed so fragile, so easily dismounted upon his horse

GO!

She felt Samsirrions gallop beneath her, her shoulders aching with the weight of the lance, and as Luca neared his
charging target, she drew from the power of the horses legs to push Maeves lance straight into the upper-chest of
their opponent. Splinters flew everywhere, and Celaena felt a gust of wind shoot past her face along with the scent of
oiled wood as their opponent missed them entirely.

Then, with combined forces of Lucas blow and the strength of the his own swing, their opponent leaned back farther
and farther in his saddle until Celaena couldnt help but feel obligated to guide him onto the ground. Samsirrion
stopped, and Luca removed his helmet, turning around to see the youth fall, his lance hanging limply from his hand as
he stared in disbelief and joy.

The arena erupted with noise, cheers and whistles and stomping feet, and Samsirrion reared again, Luca regained his
composure, striking the air with his broken lance. Celaena let out a few cries of victory, clapping her hands, her body
suddenly sore with exhaustion. She clutched the fence as she watched the protocol following the match, smiling as
Luca picked up several flowers from the ground and handed them to her as he entered the gate. She saw the Baron,
just before Luca passed by the fence, looking around at the crowd, impressed by the racket, clapping politely, a wary
smile on his face.
As Luca dismounted, she threw an arm around his shoulder, beaming, trying to conceal her exhaustion, and
congratulated him, to which he could only laugh and smile. As they gathered their lances and Samsirrion and walked
back to the stable, Celaena looked around, waiting for anyone to come running at them, finger pointing, claiming foul
play. Until they reached Raals stable, upon which she felt another rush of nervousness, every step was a test on her
nerves, every cry from the crowd made her flinch.

The lord came out of his tent, clapping, handing Luca the goblet of water that he carried in his hands. You trained
him well, Ele, Raal said, clapping them both on the back. Luca grinned and returned the gesture to the young lord.

For once, shes decided to put her gold where that tongue of hers is wagging! her friend laughed, and Celaena let
out of a snort of amusement. Her legs were shaking, and her head had that light, dizzy feeling that only came when
you didnt get enough water.

She blinked several times, the world suddenly out of focus, and felt her hand grab onto Samsirrions coarse, sweaty
hair.

Elentulyai? Luca asked, turning to her. Celaena could hear her heart beating in her ears, and the ground seemed to
swell to meet her bobbing head.

Im just, she said, closing her eyes. Im just a bit overwhelmed, thats all.

A heavy hand grabbed her elbow, and guided her away from the horse. Sit down and rest a bit, she heard Raal say,
and she opened her eyes as they passed beneath the tent. Her knees were shaking as she sat down in the middle
chair, and a cold trail of sweat was flowing down her back. She closed her eyes again, leaning back in the chair, her
head tipped upwards as she tried to get the world to stop spinning and trembling.

Raal told Luca to go change, and it sounded as if the youth was fighting with the horse. There was a cry of dismay,
and Celaena opened her eyes in time to see Samsirrion seat himself on the ground in front of the food table, loosening
the harnesses of his saddle with a few nips. The assassin looked at the horse, his large body stretched out over his
elegantly folded legs, and smiled.

Samsirrions chestnut ears flattened against his head and then perked up again, letting out a whmph! of air before he
rested his head close to her feet. Raal was chuckling to himself, and Celaena closed her eyes again as she heard Luca
clunk off to the stable, thanking all those that congratulated him. There were only nine more matches left in this
round, and a breath of relief issued from her lips, hot and thick, as she realized that they were now in the final
sixteen. They had made it past the first third of the tournament, and even being in the third round was a huge
accomplishment.

Many of the boys that lost today have been training for years.

And they didnt use any magick.

Everything spun again, and a groan came from her lips.

She had used magick, thats what it was, and there was no denying it. But what kind was it? Fae or royal?

It has to be royalI would have transformed otherwise.

Is that why I feel so sick? Because I havent used it in years? How do I even know if Im using it properly?

Ae

I need a glass of brandy.

Raal called to a servant for something that sounded like brandy but could have been something else, and Celaena
lowered her head, feeling as if her brain were moving around like a yolk in an egg.

Here, he said as he placed a glass in her hand. Celaena opened her eyes and looked down at the mixture.

This doesnt look like brandy.

Done a lot of drinking have you? Its not. Its a concoction that my brothers and I made up during our wilder days.
Its part brandy, and the other three parts I cant tell you.

Why? she asked, smelling the drink. It smelled fruity, like a summer wine.

Raal patted her back. Because then you wont drink it.

Celaena made to hand him the drink, but he laughed. My mother uses it to calm herself whenever my brothers and I
have done something badand if my mother, who is of a very gentle disposition, can handle it, so can you.

Celaena smelled it again and took a small sip. It tasted likeraspberries.

She took another sip, then another, and was about to down the whole thing when he removed the drink from her
hand. If you finish it that quickly, youll be asleep before you can say that long name of yours.

I can handle my liquor.

Oh, no she cant! Luca took a side beside her. Are you sick? he asked.

If I were sick, dyou think I would be drinking? she snapped, and Samsirrion huffed his agreement.

Luca shook his head, and then sighed as he looked at Samsirrion. Things began to slow down for Celaena, the whirling
mess in her head solidifying, and she felt a warm, lazy feeling take over.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It took her almost all of the second round to recover, and eventually she was able to walk around without fear of
collapsing. Brenn won his match, this time striking in another, dangerous area, and the crowd began to lose its
patience with him, some of the commoners (in unison with Uli and Kapo) actually booing him. The intermission was
brief, and the pages working the scoreboard had to remove the baskets full of discarded numbers. Raal soon left them
to prepare, and Celaena and Luca cheered him on as he won his match with a single blow. But by the time he
returned, Luca was already donning his armor and pleading with Samsirrion to get up from beneath the tent.

The horse eventually rose to its feet, and Luca was assisted into his saddle. Celaena bid Raal, who was exhausted and
sweating once again, farewell, and followed Luca to the gate. Luca seemed to be getting into the swing of things, and
while his nervousness was decreasing, Celaenas anxiety seemed to be rising: after this round, they were halfway
throughexpectations were growing.

Lucas father also seemed to be exponentially interested in the boy, he was now clapping enthusiastically as Luca
pranced in front of the crowd, waving at the women ogling him and grinning at the men giving him support. They
apparently now understood that Luca was not a young noble, but rather one of their own, and the fact that he had
come so far, with not even a flag or an entourage to his credit, made him an obvious favorite.

Celaena smiled at the crowd, no longer afraid of their wrath, hoping that one day, she would receive a similar
reaction. It scared her, however, that Raal knew, and what was even more terrifying was that he had figured things
out so quickly. Her hand went into the pocket where the ring was kept, and she played with the cool silver, running
her thumb across the subtle lines of the carving. She slid it onto her finger and back, rubbing it against her
increasingly calloused skin, and offered Luca a bit of encouragement before he flew from the gate, lance in hand,
towards his opponent.

It happened again.

Despite her mounting guilt, she couldnt prevent the phantom limbs from guiding Luca. Her mouth sprung open as she
felt the impact of a lance pierce beneath her breast, and her arm felt numb and disjointed from thrusting her own
splintering lance. Luca hadnt knocked his opponent off his horse.

He galloped back towards the gate, and Celaena barked for a page to give him a fresh lance, one of the blacksmiths
this time. Luca raised his visor, his eyes wide with adrenaline, showing Celaena that he was all right, and Celaena
slapped Samsirrions flank as Luca slammed the visor down and charged forth upon the announcers count. Her heart
was racing, and her mouth was dry. She still couldnt quite grasp the improbability that he had gotten so far, but,
then again, she couldnt fully acknowledge what she was doing either.
She rushed to the fence, grasping a post, and watched the horses hooves fly across the dirt field. She felt the earth
beneath them and hardened it, unsure of how she was even doing so, and reached upwards to grab Lucas arm as he
thrust forward, rising in his saddle. She traveled down the length of the lance, almost shooting backwards as the
splinters exploded upon his opponents breast, but she slammed her mind into the chest of the youth, pushing until
she felt his feet loosen from his stirrups and slip from the horse. Her breath was ragged, and her ears throbbed, and
as her veins seemed to burn with energy, every other part of her body began to ache.

As quickly as she had done it, she pulled everything back towards her like a fisherman retrieving his net. The midday
sun beat down upon her, but even its scorching rays could not quell the icy feeling in her stomach. Her eyes were
painfully dry, and Celaena put a hand to her scratchy, flaming throat. She had to stop doing this.

Youre cheating!

But it was worth it. He was in the final eight, along with Raal.

Luca was ecstatic when he returned to the gate, having milked the crowd for all of its love and affection, and Celaena
could barely hug him as he dragged her from the support of the fence. He held her, lifting her from the ground and
spinning her around, telling her she was the best trainer in the world, and Celaena smiled weakly, hoping that the
twirling wouldnt result in a fit of vomiting. The ground was a blur of gold and brown, and the assassins eyes went out
of focus as she felt her ribs being pressed between two metal clamps.

It was like being drunk, but worse.

Like being drunk out of your mind, and then getting into a fight and not winning.

Luca released her, and Celaena let out a groan as she stumbled and staggered into Samsirrion, her hands grasping for
the horn of his saddle.

Stop fooling around, Luca cried, pulling her from the horse. His brown eyes were full of light, and he gave her a
push ahead. The world slipped away and then returned like a wave on a beach, and Luca rushed ahead of her,
practically skipping down the track as Celaena slowly, painfully, walked towards Raals tent, clinging to the fence.

She felt as if the entire crowd was watching her, but Celaena kept her eyes upon the ground, trembling as she
realized that perhaps someone would see her and immediately know what she had done.

For a woman capable of training a farmhand to joust like that, your nerves could use a lot of work.

She felt Raals hand upon her back, and Celaena let out a frustrated puff of air as she allowed him to escort her back
to her seat. She sat back, closed her eyes, fighting the urge to sleep. If Raal could detect who she was within a matter
of hours, why couldnt he notice that she was using magick to help Luca win? Her chest ached, and her right arm was
trembling with exhaustion. Why wasnt Luca near collapsing?

Did I take the brunt of his weight?

For a moment, she wished that she had someone as clueless as she beside her, namely Dorian DeHavilliard. Everyone
knew something that she didnt, and it would be nice, once she returned home, to have someone as ignorant and
fumbling to talk to about these sorts of questions.

Home?

Celaena frowned, watching the red lines of sunlight dance across her eyelids.

Now that she thought about it, her situation was far better than Dorians. His father had outlawed magick within his
empire, and the punishments for using it had been harsh: slavery at a minimum, the gallows for the most severe
offenses. But, for some reason, punishing those with magick had never been a problem. Not long after Trasien had
fallen under the kings rule, it seemed as if magick had justdisappeared. The Fae had been unable to draw upon
their power, and, defenseless, had either been victim to mass-execution or exile.

The weight of Raals ring was heavy in her pocket.

Why had it stopped? Where had it gone?

Celaena let out a deep breath, listening to Raal speak with his attendants, and accidentally slipped into sleep.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She slept through Brenns victory, and would have slept through the entire intermission had Luca not shaken her
awake to let her know of the bizarre change in plans. The youth, number nine, who was supposed to be jousting
against Raal, had suddenly pleaded to have his place switched with anyone due to an injury. He had been struck in
the shoulder, and had fainted the moment he had come off the field, and so the Master of Ceremonies, after speaking
to the Lord of pel, had given consent for the boy to joust last in the fourth round.

Unfortunately, the lord that he had switched with was Brenn Ghent.

Raal was not smiling when a page brought him the news, though Celaena and Luca did exchange a look of relief to
know that it was their friend, and not him, who had the misfortune of fighting Brenn. As strong and dirty as the young
lord Ghent was, Raal was smarter. Raal knew where Brenn would strike, and he also knew the right moment for a
blow or a defensive maneuver.

Celaena followed Raal to the gate, leaving Luca, who had left a few minutes before, to prepare on his own. She stayed
close to Raals horse, avoiding the rushing fervor of his servants, and looked out across the field as he found his
position. Brenns dark horse was stomping its feet on the ground, tossing its long mane, and the youths face
stretched into a slow, wicked smile as he stared at Raal.

The assassin stared up at the boy, who was holding Brenns gaze and touched his leg. Dont let him get to you, she
warned.

Raal shook his head and ran his hand across the high plane of his nose. Im not, he said calmly. Celaena looked
back to Brenn, and watched in satisfaction as his stare dropped from Raal and directly onto her. His brows rose, but
quickly dropped as he lowered his head, his face distorting.

Celaena smiled sweetly, and waved, tossing her wave of blond hair in the sunlight. As exhausted and sick as she had
felt, her strength had quickly returned.

Please dont tell me, she said out of the corner of her mouth, that Brenn is also a part of this society of yours. She
continued to grin and wave until the awful boy turned his stare away from their direction, his teeth barred.

Of course not. He only bothers to think about himself.

Celaena cocked her head to the side, the iciness she had felt earlier now warmed. She stepped onto the mounting
block and stared into Raals eyes, which now began to show signs of worry as the announcer began to leave his tent.

Take care of yourself, she said, kissing him quickly on his sweaty forehead before he could react. He smelled like
metal and horses, with a bit of something else, something fresh and wild, mixed in. Her lips were cool and slick, and
she made a face as she wiped the excess moisture from them.

With a kiss from Aelin Galathynius, he said quietly, grinning at her, I dont even need to.

Celaena rolled her eyes and stepped off the block, the dirt crunching and sliding beneath her knee-high brown boots.
For all of the mess and smells surrounding the arena, she had stayed remarkably clean.

She moved aside, waiting for Luca to line up behind Raals entourage, and stood at the fence while the announcer
called out their names. Raals name was greeted with a thunderous amount of applause, while Brenn received a
minimal, courteous amount. She noticed the tension as the two exchanged hands, the way they barely touched, and
felt a bit of anger surge in her breast as she saw Brenn mutter something to Raal. The young lords head snapped
back, and he pulled his horse to a stop. The Baron Ghent leaned forward in his seat, his face grave, shaking his head
at his son.

Raal simply stared at Brenn, the crowd silent as her friends lips curled back in a slow snarl, nodding his head once at
his enemy before facing forward and galloping back to the gate. The audience was full of whispers, almost as many as
when Luca had come out under the name of Sardothien, but Raal paid them no heed.
What did he say? Celaena called to him, and Raal turned to her, his helmet clutched in his hands.

Its none of your concern, he said, more harshly than she would have thought, and Celaena glanced back at Brenn,
who was laughing with, not surprisingly, his two friends. Raal slammed his helmet down upon his head and grabbed
his lance from a servant, raising it higher than he would have ordinarily.

Trumpets blared; the announcer counted down, and upon his command, the two boys charged at each other, their
horses matched. Within a few seconds, there was a crash, and both opponents leaned back in their seats. Raal
regained control first, and barely stopped to look at Brenn as he galloped back towards the gate.

He dropped his lance on the ground and picked up another one, brushing splinters from his visor and breastplate.

Brenn, who had taken more time to recover, was slower in returning and restocking, and he screamed something at a
hesitant servant before the poor man handed him a lance. The trumpets signaled, the Master of Ceremonies bellowed
his orders, and Raal galloped down the field again.

He rose from his saddle and slammed the lance hard into Brenns chest, almost losing his balance as he took the blow
of his opponent. Wood was all over the field, and Celaena tensed as she saw Raals horse slow to a stop on its own,
Raals right arm dangling limply at his side, barely holding onto the heavy lance. Even though the crowd was cheering,
Brenn stopped, watching Raal sit atop his horse with a lowered head. Celaena observed with horror as the lance
dropped to the ground with a crash.

The crowd quieted itself as Raal raised his visor with a trembling hand. His back to the gate, Celaena could not see his
face, and she fought the urge to run out onto the field as he lifted a hand to his right shoulder and lowered it, a smear
of blood standing out against the smooth black of his gloves. Raal kneed his horse to turn around, and Celaena let out
a gasp with the crowd as she saw the whiteness of his face. As calm as he tried to remain, his face was twisted with
pain. The Baron Ghent and the Master of Ceremonies were on their feet.

Raal removed his helmet, panting, and looked down at his wound. A thick stream of blood flowed down the front of his
armor, its source several sharp wedges of wood protruding from the armors weak spot between the shoulder and the
chest. Raal locked eyes with his opponent, breathing hard between his teeth as he wrapped a hand around the few
shards and yanked them out in a swift motion, his gaze never faltering.

The crowd let out a noise of shock and disgust, and Raal broke his stare to look upon the pieces in his bloodied hand.
Surprise, pain, then fury washed over his face, and he held up a large, conical piece, sharp as a needle at the end, for
the crowd to see. The audience erupted in sounds of fury, booing and screaming their protest.

So thats what a spiked lance does.

Brenn removed his helmet and shook his head in defense, an arrogant smile still on his face.

Celaenas attention was drawn to the nobilitys box, where quite a scene was being made. Four boys were restraining
what seemed to be a very upset, very out of control

Uli and Kapo.

They were bellowing their anger at Brenn, and even Celaena, who was no expert on lip reading, could make out the
violent curses spewing form their mouths. The Lord of pel looked very upset, both at the Hynter brothers and at the
young Ghent, and he barked something at the two boys that caused them to return from the edge of the box and sit
down in their seats, their restrainers looking very disgruntled as they took their places nearby. Uli and Kapo turned in
their seats, red in the face, to apologize to everyone, winkingjust like their older brotherat the four youths who
had held them back. In turn, the young men shook their heads, smiling, and then turned back to the scene on the
field.

I really did get the bad end of Wendlyns nobility. How different things would have been had I found another
household to work in!

The Master of Ceremonies had rushed out to speak to Raal, who handed him the bloody shard of metal. Several other
finely dressed men also ran out, and the artifact was passed between them, holding up the piece and testing its
strength. Brenn was calling something to the men, but they waved him off. The small group conversed together, their
heads bent in debate, before the Master of Ceremonies walked back to his amplified circle and raised his hand to quiet
the uproar.

After deliberating, he said, shaking his head, we have found that the young baron, Brenn Ghent, indeed used a
spiked lance that resulted in the injury of Lord Raal Hynter of the House of Kiras.

The crowd declared its indignity, and Brenn rolled his eyes, avoiding the gaze of his father.

Because of this deliberate breach of protocol, we have decided that Brenn Ghent is to be eliminated from this
competition, and that Raal Hynter is to continue on to the fifth round as soon as his injuries allow him to do so!

The crowd cheered, and Brenn galloped off before any more embarrassment could occur, dodging the bits of bread
and splashes of liquid that the audience hurled at him.

Wendlyn still survives against Adarlans influence!

Raal waved weakly at the crowd, thanking the group of men, before nodding his farewell and walking back to the
gate, smiling grimly.

Celaena, torn between rushing to Luca and to seeing Raals injuries, waited until he returned, almost falling from the
saddle into the arms of his servants. Blood was all over his saddle and his armor, some of it already dried, cracking
and crumbling in the afternoon heat.

Raal, supported between two attendants, raised his head to look at Celaena, giving her a pained smile. Some kiss
you have, he wheezed, his voice quiet, and Celaena would have followed him back to her tent had she not seen the
pages cleaning the field. This was it.

If Luca placed into the final four, it would be an achievement greater than any they had expected. The third and
fourth places, it seemed, were really just two spots for the third placeeach received the same amount of goldthe
ordering apparently depending on either whoever lost the bestif that made any sense at all.

Celaena rushed to Luca, who looked more worried for his friends health than for his own upcoming match, and patted
Samsirrions large cheek, her hands grazing across his smooth neck.

Hes a brave man, Luca said, his eyes shining.

I wouldnt call him a man yet, but

Why? Celaena asked.

Luca looked down at her, an incredulous look on his face. Because he pulled those shards out in the middle of the
field!

Celaena gave him a blank look, and Luca groaned as he moved Samsirrion towards the gate, Raals entourage gone,
and their two pages chasing after them, lances in hand.

If he had removed the pieces after he had left the field, it wouldnt have counted.

Why?

Because then Brenn could have claimed that Raal placed them there in a conspiracy to get him disqualified.

Thats horrible!

Its true, Luca stated. But Raal was smart: he pulled the shards out so everyone could see, so there was no doubt
that Brenn had cheated. I suspect that hes in a lot of pain.

Probably, Celaena said dryly. But perhaps you should focus more on this match than on his condition.
The introductions followed protocol, and as Celaena grinned at the reaction of the crowd of Luca, she felt a twang of
disappointment as she saw that his father was gone. Luca had to win, if only for the fact that his father needed to see
him finish.

This is the last time Ill do it. After this, if Luca wins, I swear that Ill stop. Seriously. I promise. I really, honestly
promise. On Goldryn. And paestia. If I cheat after this round, Ill never eat a bite again. And Ill never look in the
mirror again. And I swear that I wont ever drink again if I continue cheating. After this round that is.

Luca returned to the gate, and put on his helmet, breathing heavily.

This was it. She walked around Samsirrion and took one of Maeves lances from the rack, handing it to him. The
trumpets called to each other.

Luca, she said, and he looked down at her, raising his visor. If you win this match

I know, he said quickly, closing his eyes for a second.

Celaena nodded, her face set, but her eyes burning with determination.

One!

This ones for you, she said, grabbing Samsirrions bridle. Not for me or Stephaenya or your father or for Brenn

Two!

Win this for yourself.

Luca nodded and closed his visor, raising his lance and staring forward. Celaena watched him, her heart racing. She
hated feeling anxious. But he would win.

Three!

Samsirrions legs tensed, and Lucas grip on the reins tightened.

Hes going to win.

GO!

She hadnt even observed his opponent, but as Samsirrion rushed past Celaena, she caught a glimpse of the boys
inferior horse. How Lucas opponent had won with a small horse like that was a mystery. Her hair blew in the wind,
fluttering Galans cape around her knees, and Celaena took a deep breath as she flung herself onto the field,
Samsirrions galloping jerking through her body again. She blanketed Lucas weak spots, and took a sharp breath to
gather the energy that lay deep within her torso. It was a dark space, thick and cloudy like the bottom of a river, but
she drew out what felt like coils and swirls of hot and cold, tingling so badly that she felt her arms go numb. Her
vision blurred, sweat gathering on her forehead and pooling on her chin, and Celaena felt a complete loss of control as
Luca thrust.

He hit his opponent, but not nearly as strongly as he should have, and leaned back dangerously far as he took the
blow to his upper breast.

Celaena gasped, coldness seeping into her, and had the feeling like she was splattered across the stadium like a
dropped egg. She turned to Luca as he returned, and was barely able to congratulate him before he charged again.

Get it together or he will lose!

Celaena saw Samsirrion careening towards their competitor, and she flung that dark, murky space around the horse,
letting it rise upwards and cover Luca.

Do as you will, just let him win.

Luca struck, took the blow of his opponent, returned, charged forth again, his energy remaining as strong as it had
been before his first match. Celaena, on the other hand, was seeing white sparks float in the air, sizzling over the
moving flow of the crowd.

Let him win, let him win.

Her knees hurt from supporting her, and Celaena peeled her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth. She didnt even
know if whatever she was sending out was still focused on Luca. She forced her eyes to stare at her friend, who was
now about to thrust at his opponent, and with a final burst of determination, sunk to the ground as she threw all her
remaining strength at his jousting arm. Thankfully, his opponent missed completely, and was thrown from the horse.

The triumphant roar of the crowd was lost as Celaena turned and sat back against the fence, her head between her
knees as she heaved, her stomach spinning against the whirling current of her head.

Luca had won! He was in the final four!

Her hands grasped her kneecaps, her chest rising and falling, her throat expanding with each heave as it fought to

Celaena retched and vomited, paused for a second, feeling slightly better, and vomited again, the foul, sharp taste
and smell of it causing her eyes to water.

Her guilt made her feel even sicker. So sick, in fact, that she barely noticed when several strong hands helped her to
her feet and made her rest upon what felt like a cot.

Minutes, maybe hours or days, passed by, and Celaena opened her eyes as she felt a gentle hand rest on her
shoulder.

Are you feeling better?

It was Luca.

Celaena regained focus and looked up at the youth, her tongue recoiling against the unpleasant taste in her mouth.

What happened? she asked, not daring to sit up.

You threw up, practically blacked out, then fell asleep. Are you ill?

Celaena shook her head slightly. I think that the heat and all of this stress has gotten to me.

Well, you should be a bit relieved now that were in the final four.

Celaenas lips pulled back in a weak smile. We?

Raal and I. And you, I suppose.

The assassin tried to get up, failed, and relied on her friend to lift her. The world spun once, but then stopped as she
found herself staring at the back of the three chairs in Raals tent, the wooden food table to her left, and the drink
table to her right.

How do you feel? she asked him, putting her hair behind her ears.

Luca grinned. I dont remember the last time I felt this happyand scared.

Why scared?

Luca shook his head. I never thought that being so close to achieving a dream of mine would terrify me so much.
His voice cracked, and Celaena put her hand over his gloved hand as she saw his eyes well with tears. Its just, he
said, looking up at the tent, I never thoughtI never imagined He stopped, unable to continue.
Celaena squeezed his hand. I know, she said softly, smiling with pride and joy. I know.

Luca blinked several times, sniffled, and rose to his feet, looking down at his armor. Im matched against Raal this
time.

Celaena blinked slowly, replaying what he had just said, and then pursed her lips.

How is Raal?

He shrugged. He still needs time, but is insisting on carrying on the match when it is scheduled to begin.

Which is when?

In less than a minute or two.

Dont hesitate because hes injured, she said, fighting back the guilt. Or because hes your friend.

Thats what he told me, Luca said. Just before he rode around the track to the other gate.

Celaena bobbed her head in agreement. Luca, however, looked worried. Its not fair for him to have to fight when
hes at such a serious disadvantage.

Celaena grabbed onto Lucas arm for support as she raised herself. Samsirrion was already waiting at the gate. Its
his choice.

They walked to the gate, Celaenas limbs still weak and her stomach still churning a bit, watching the crowd move and
flow like a colony of ants.

Luca mounted his horse, looking out across the field. My fathers back. I hope he gave Brenn the lashing he
deserved. Luca stared at Raal, who waved from across the field. The youth waved back, his eyes dark. I could kill
Brenn for doing that.

Win the tournament and then think about becoming an assassin.

Luca didnt reply, and remained silent, his eyes filled with a sorrow that she had never seen before. Their edges began
to turn pink as tears brimmed, and she watched him look at his father once more before trotting out to greet the
crowd, following the Master of Ceremonies introduction. He enthusiastically waved to the crowd, Samsirrion frolicking
in a circle, and bowed to them before shaking Raals hand.

The two boys talked for a moment, their hands firmly clasped, before returning to their respective gates. Celaena
beamed as she handed Luca his lance, unable to find words.

Remember your promise! You almost killed yourself last time! You are not to interfere in any way!

The Master of Ceremonies let out his command.

Dont interfere.

Her eyes stung as Luca stormed from the gate, and she grasped Raals ring tightly in her hand. But then something
extraordinary happened.

Luca pulled Samsirrion to a slower pace, and began to trot, riding right past Raal, his lance down. Raal, who had been
ready to thrust, stopped his horse and turned around in his saddle as the audience cried out its shock. Raal removed
his helmet, his dark hair matted to his head, and stared open-mouthed at Luca, gesturing for him to go back to the
gate and start again.

Luca looked at his friend, took off his helmet, and shook his head, his mouth unable to decide between a frown and a
smile. Celaena could not believe what she was seeing.
Luca moved Samsirrion to the Master of Ceremonies tent, and halted as the man in purple came out. Luca lowered
himself in the saddle to speak to the man, keeping his eyes averted from his father. This was probably the closest the
boy had even been to him.

The Master of Ceremonies looked at Luca, wide-eyed, and asked him a question, to which Luca nodded. The man
asked Luca again, and a small smile appeared on Lucas lips as he told him his reply once more. Raal, by this point
had dismounted and swung beneath the fence, and was now running towards them. Luca, seeing his friend,
dismounted as well, and stood tall as the young lord began to yell, pointing at Lucas gate and at the crowd, shaking
his head with eyes full of dismay.

But Luca simply shook his head, saying something that made Raals face soften. The Master of Ceremonies asked the
two boys something, to which Luca replied with a nod of his head. Raal, who had taken a step back with heaving
shoulders, said nothing as Luca turned to him once again. He instead looked at the sky, blinking furiously, before
grabbing Luca in an embrace, their armor crashing as they met.

Celaena saw Lucas face over Raals shining shoulder, saw the profound sorrow concealed beneath loyalty and
determination; and it wasnt until they two boys released each other that Celaena realized she was crying.

There is goodness in the world, sometimes so overwhelming that for a moment, a brief and blinding moment, all evil
is forgotten in its presence.

Celaena Sardothien, who had known very few moments of pure, uncorrupted kindness, saw her friends choice and
felt all exhaustion drain from her. Her insides were clean and fresh, and as the announcer declared Lucas decision to
forfeit his chance at winning and take fourth place, the crowds response showed that they had experienced much of
what burst through Celaena.

She had known less than a handful of people with Lucas kind of honor, and as the boy slowly led Samsirrion back to
the gate, lost in a shower of flowers, she wiped her tears from her face and clapped harder than she had ever clapped
at any performance, her chest suddenly so fully of pride that it forced her mouth into a broad smile.

There is no way of teaching thatthere is no way to instill someone with the ability to give up their dream for the
sake of anothers.

Luca arrived through the gate, his lips set in a defeated smile. His hair was limp, and he could barely look at Celaena
as he handed Maeves unused lance to a page. There was silence around them, the servants of the young lords
stabled nearby staring at him wordlessly, wondering if that had been them, if they had been Luca, would they have
willingly given away their chance at a better life? Would they have forsaken all of their invested time and money so
that another, a boy already blessed with riches, could have more time to recover and hopefully win?

Celaena easily read their faces, for the same thing was written on her own, and as Luca approached, trying to smile,
she wrapped her arms around his armored body, hot tears beginning to flow anew.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Raal won the tournament, his opponent falling from his horse on the third go. Celaena and Luca watched from his
tent, cheering for him with the crowd. Raal, after Lucas forfeited match, had chosen to remain on the opposite side of
the field, preparing for the final challenge, his attendants working hard to make sure that his wound was as
comfortable and well-wrapped as possible.

They had cheered and stomped their feet as their friend was handed a garland of flowers and a golden cup the size of
Celaenas head and neck put together, whistling between their fingers as the Lord of pel raised Raals hand in the
air, declaring him the victor.

She and Luca had said very little to each other, knowing that the cost of his choice was still too near to be spoken of,
and they politely applauded as Raals opponent was handed a sack of gold. The trumpets blared, and the Master of
Ceremonies called for the other two contestants, Luca and a boy named Favo to come onto the field and receive their
prizes. Luca, still in his armor, took longer to get onto the field, and by the time he reached the three boys and the
two older men, his own name was being announced.

The roar that followed Lucas name made the stadium shake.
Celaena, standing up on the rails of the fence, screamed and clapped as Luca took the bag of money, beaming at the
crowd and at Raal, who came forward to embrace him once again.

The announcer said something to the boys, and Raal turned and began to point at the crowd, causing Uli and Kapo to
come flying down the aisle, their brown capes billowing behind them as they ran across the track, jumped the fence,
and tackled their brother, laughing and cheering. Celaena was so busy watching them that she did not even see Luca
pointing and madly gesturing to her. It took until Raal pointed at her for the assassin to understand, and Celaena felt
a bit of nausea as she ran towards and out of the gate, trying to avoid the splinters on the field.

How Luca managed to function out here is beyond me.

As terrifying as the crowd had been from the sidelines, being in front of it was even worse. She felt small, as if the
walls of the arena would crash down upon her, but thankfully, the run to the announcers designated area was over
quickly.

She hugged Luca again, shook the hand of the surprised, but amused Master of Ceremonies, and grinned at Raal, who
was still being assaulted by his siblings. The trainers or family members of the other two boys also appeared. Celaena
shook their hands, as well as the dirty hands of the other contestants, ignoring their bewildered looks.

Baron Ghent was talking to Raal, and Celaena stepped beside Luca, sensing his disturbed state. From the corner of
her eye, she watched Raal shake his head and laugh, patting the baron on the shoulder, and Celaena turned her full
attention to the pair as they drew closer, their voices dropping.

Ghent slowly raised his head, looking straight at Celaena and Luca, and for a brief moment, they locked eyesthe
same chestnut eyes that Luca bore. His mouth opened slightly, and Celaena, fighting her urge to run, nodded slowly,
holding his surprised gaze. He looked back at Raal, but the announcer approached Luca, inquiring after her name.

Its Ele, Luca was saying, and Celaena quickly switched her attention over.

Ele?

Like Ella Luca replied to the announcers inquiry. Ele of Doranelle.

Celaena opened and closed her mouth, unable to speak as the Master of Ceremonies looked at her, then at Luca, and
shook his wigged head, laughing as he walked to his amplification devices.

Are you mad? she asked him.

Luca shrugged his shoulder, his impish smile returning. I think its catchy.

The Master of Ceremonies introduced Raal to the crowd once again, and the Lord of pel raised his hand once again.
The cheering now just seemed to be for everyone, and there was a slight decrease as he announced the second and
third place winners and their trainers, each waving to the crowd. Celaena and Luca stepped forward as the announcer
looked at them before shouting:

And I give you our fourth-placed winner, the honorable LUCA OF THE HOUSE OF SARDOTHIEN AND HIS TRAINER,
ELE OF DORANELLE!

The crowd was hushed, then it exploded again with such force that Celaena took a step back. It felt as if a stampede
were running over her.

Pridepride for Luca and for Raal and for the fact that for one day, for a few hours, honor and loyalty had won out
against corruptionsurged through her, and Celaena, sucking in the force of the crowd, grabbed Lucas hand in her
own and thrust it in the air, the crowd screaming even louder. They turned around, acknowledging all sides of the
crowd, and Celaena began to laugh at the young ladies lined up at the fence, hurling flowers and calling to Luca.

She wished that Dorian were here to see it, to experience the triumph that she had never felt before, to have the
honor of knowing people like Luca and Raal, to stand before a crowd to participate in celebrating goodness and
determination
They completed their turn, smiling so hard that their faces hurt, and Celaena raised Lucas arm into the air once more,
brimming with joy, basking in the miracle of so many things.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

They arrived back at the chateau just past sundown, having accepted congratulations and words of support from
many people they didnt know, ignoring the bewildered looks on their faces that asked if their names were true. Raal
had spent several minutes alone with Luca, either lecturing him or thanking him profusely (probably a combination of
both), and while Luca had gone to prepare their wagon for departure, Celaena had spoken to the young lord.

He asked her if she had anything to do with Lucas decision, and she had told him the truththat she had sent him
out there to slaughter himand while Raal laughed, it quickly faded into a sad smile.

I cant ever thank him enough.

Celaena had waved a dismissive hand at him. If you continue to grovel at his feet, it will make it worse.

He might have won.

She shrugged. I doubt it, and dont you dare tell him that. Finishing third-slash-fourth was more of an achievement
than we could have ever hoped for.

Raal nodded, and then held out a hand, which Celaena shook warmly. I hope to see you both again soon. Perhaps Ill
stop by the Baroness Du Tremaines chateau in a while.

Celaena told him that Luca would appreciate that, then had fished through her pockets and pulled forth Raals ring.
HereI really cant accept it.

But he insisted, refusing to hear any objections.

You should really go to Galans ball.

Celaena looked around, making sure they were alone. Dont hold your breath.

Raal laughed. With any luck, my arm will be healed by then and Ill be able to ask you to dance.

Celaena snorted. What did you say to Baron Ghent?

The young lord smiled wickedly. Ill tell you at the ball.

Luca then called to Celaena from the stables, and ran over to Raal Hynter to say farewell, embracing him again before
attending to a very impatient Samsirrion. Celaena smiled, the late afternoon sun shining in her hair.

She had thanked him for his hospitality and his companionship, and after a quick embrace, she looked at the young
lord.

Perhaps we will meet again someday, Raal Hynter, she said, a sad smile across her face. It might be many years
from now, but if you hear of me

He then interrupted her with a shake of his head. Tell me those sorts of goodbyes at the ball.

Celaena blinked a few times, then bowed her head slightly before bidding him farewell and running after Luca, turning
once to wave goodbye.

Celaena and Luca had chattered and chuckled the entire ride home, talking of his victorious moments and his foolish
ones, mainly throwing up and whining in a corner, and as they jabbered on like two birds, the assassin could not help
but feel an irritating spot of guilt nestle itself in a corner of her mind.

She had cheated, and cheated immensely.

It was worth itto get this kind of reactionwho cares if Im a bit upset or if Lucas a bit delusional? As long as he
doesnt know, hes fine, and as long as hes happy, Ive got no reason to be bothered by it.

Celaena, having thought it through, pushed the little cloud further back in her mind and let her spirits lighten.

They burst through the door of the kitchen, expecting a warm fire and applause, but found the kitchen dark and
empty, save for a single note that lay on the large table. Luca picked it up, frowned, and handed it to Celaena.

They went to a tavern? All of them? A smile spread across her face. They had to be up to something. Luca, however
looked disappointed.

Lets go, he mumbled, and went outside to unload the cart of its belongings. He placed his armor inside, keeping it
safe from the warm nights humidity, and left the lances on the ground. He led Samsirrion into the stable, took off his
saddle and bridle, and covered him with a blanket.

His fine clothes already on, Luca stepped onto the cart and offered Celaena a hand up. The drive to the tavern was
only a few minutes, and as it came into view, Celaena smiled. There were an abnormal number of horses and wagons,
though the noise coming from the solitary stone building wasnt very loud at all.

Celaena dismounted and stood outside the wooden door, waiting for Luca to hitch the horse and cart to a post. The
circular, fogged panes of glass revealed only a large crowd and a warm interior. It was pretty quiet inside, but Luca
didnt seem to notice, as he grasped the handle of the door and pushed in.

A thunderous explosion of noise hit them like a wild carriage, and Celaena let out a cry of joy as the entire tavern
rushed forward to greet Luca. The youth, shocked, startled, and stunned, looked around dumbly, and Celaena
watched as Stephaenya threw her arms around his neck. Lucas face immediately lit up, and he turned himself and
Stephaenya around to survey the crowd gathered before releasing the girl and sheepishly running a hand through his
hair. Leighanna and Cindrillion were also there, laughing as Lucas shock turned into joy, and Celaena squeezed
through the cheering crowd to reach the old woman and the girl.

He placed fourth! Cindrillion exclaimed, listening to Lucas good news. A large man held up a glass of ale and
toasted to Lucas victory, the crowd raising their mugs and cheering Fourth!

How did you do it? Howd you manage to make him get that far? Cindrillion asked, her blue eyes glowing. Leighanna
patted Celaena on the shoulder, not waiting to hear the answer, before she went to join the ecstatic Luca and
Stephaenya. Celaena turned to Cindrillion. The girl was hopping up and down with joy.

With practice.

And magick.

Cindrillion laughed with happiness. Oh, this is so wonderful! Its like a faerie-story, but even better!

Celaena giggled, grabbing Cindrillions hand as she headed towards the bar. After such an exhausting day, a mug of
cold, palate-numbing ale sounded incredible.

The large groupthere must have been over seventy people crammed into the small taverneventually settled itself,
the many round tables forming a semi-circular ring around the hearth, in front of which sat a group of four musicians,
playing dance tunes for the five or six couples dancing in the center. Celaena sat with Luca and her friends at a table
facing the dancing, clapping along as the merry tunes continued to flow.

It was wonderful that they had arranged this for Luca, she remarked, watching the crowd make dozens of toasts to
their friend each minute, and Celaenas face glowed with pleasure at the farm boys joy. She took a sip from her ale
her fourthand laughed as Luca began to pull Stephaenya from her seat, eventually yanking her into the
rambunctious dance that threatened to crash into all of the tables. Celaena finished her drink, poured another from
the pitcher on the center of the light wood table, and turned back to watch her friends dance, laughing.

She smiled politely at the people who stared at her, people she had seen before and never spoken to, and though she
could tell that they were grateful for her help, they still remained at a distance that Celaena did not bother to cross.
She tapped her feet and clapped her hands, bouncing in her chair, her eyes little more than slits of shimmering black
and blue, lit by the bright fire. Her cheeks glowed, finely defined as her smile stretched across her face, displaying her
pearly teeth.

Celaena turned to Cindrillion, but found the girl staring open-mouthed at the door, which had just swung open.
Celaenas mouth soon popped open as she saw who walked in.

Prince Raonn Whitethorn, accompanied by not one, but four other members of the Faeone female and three males,
some fair and some darkeach carrying instruments. The music stopped, the dancing halted, and the chatter in the
room faded into stunned silence. Celaena, blushing, rose to her feet, wishing that she werent feeling so wobbly, and
felt a hand on her shoulder. Luca was walking with her, guiding her from behind, as they inched and squeezed past
tables to finally reach the door and the odd group assembled. Luca was differenthe seemed more calm, more sure of
himselfmore like a man.

They Fae wore clothes that seemed to fit into mortal fashionnothing flowing or wispy, but rather clothes that a very,
very rich hunter might wear on a hunt. Celaena looked at Raonn, unsure of whether or not to smile, but it was Luca
who spoke first.

Thank you, he said, his eyes shining in earnest, for Samsirrionand your lances. Please tell your queen that I
thank her as well. He looked from Raonn to the other four Fae, who smiled faintly at him, the tattoos painted on their
cheeks dark in the firelight. Raonn nodded, and, to Celaenas surprise, smiled.

The room was so still that Celaenas back hurt from all the eyes upon her.

We came here to congratulate you, Raonn said so warmly that Celaena thought he was acting. But his grey eyes,
normally so cold, were as bright as they had been a day before. We heard of your choice. It was a noble thing to do.

Celaena cleared her throat, and Raonn looked at her. Thats all we came here to say.

Then why did you bring instruments? Celaena asked dryly.

Raonn frowned at her. We had hoped to congratulate you with a song or two, he said, looking at the frozen dancers
and musicians, but it seems that we were too late.

Its all right! Cindrillion called from the back, and the sound of chairs and heads turning made the young woman
blush. Celaena couldnt help but gape at the girls courage. Theres plenty of room for you to play! Wed love to hear
it!

Luca nodded at the crowd, who responded by simply nodding their heads, those in the way of the Fae moving their
chairs and tables back. The mortal musicians exchanged looks, and left their chairs to find seats in the back.

Celaena regarded Raonn. Play away, she said with a grin. Raonn rolled his eyes and motioned for his four
companions to take a seat. They moved gracefully across the room, the scent of fresh grass and dew filling the air,
and every pair of eyes was upon them as they took their seats at the hearth.

Youre not playing? Celaena asked him, batting her eyelashes. Raonn glared at her, and followed her back to the
table where she had been sitting. The dancers had moved aside, and Stephaenya and Cindrillion practically leapt out
of their seats in an effort to make room for Raonn. The Fae lord smiled at them, giving Leighanna a nod, and then
reached for the pitcher of ale, stealing an empty cup from a neighboring table.

I didnt know that the Fae liked to drink, Celaena remarked as the musicians began to tune their instruments. The
crowd was so awkwardly silent that she took a few more gulps of her ale to ignore it.

Raonn filled his mug. I didnt know you were from Doranelle.

Celaena looked around, making sure no one heard it, and glowered.

The female playing what seemed to be a druma large wooden ring covered on one side with yellowed, stretched
animal hidenodded her count to the other three, and began to play. Her hair was fair, though her skin was olive,
and her green eyes flashed with concentration as her long fingers handled the double-ended stick that dealt out her
melody. It was fast, rolling, and she had barely made more than three cycles of her speedy beat before the male
playing a smaller version of her drum joined in, his beats complimenting and adding to hers. His hair and skin were
dark, his tan cheeks glowing with what could have been a day spent in the sun. They played a round, and then the
malethe largest of the group, with long, blond hair that was a shade darker than Raonns, but just as shimmering
holding an instrument that could have been a violin but also could have been an estranged fiddle of sorts began its
high-pitched, lively jig of a song. Moments later, the final player, a dark-haired, fair-skinned Fae, completed the
quartet, playing his flute or pipe-like thing along with the fiddle-violin hybrid.

It was fast, and wild, not at all like the mournful, haunting singing heard in Doranelle, and it only took half a cycle for
Celaena to begin tapping her foot, her head bouncing to the melody. There came a noise from behind her, and
Cindrillion and Leighanna were clapping, their faces beaming. She had never seen the old woman look so

Young.

They clapped, their eyes bright, and it seemed that all of the aches and pains of old age washed away from the oldest
of their group. Leighanna caught Celaenas gaze, and nodded at the assassin. Celaena turned back in her chair to look
at the musicians, and exchanged glances with Raonn as she began to clap as well. Their pitcher empty, Luca stood up,
joining in with their clapping, and signaled a barmaid for another one. People in the tavern, seeing Lucas enthusiasm
and participation, began to clap as well, and Celaena watched in amazement as the crowds awe and fear wore off,
and lively clapping and cheering began.

The female signaled for the other drummer to stop, and a laugh of joy burst from Celaenas throat as the fiddle and
the flute shared a solo that made the room cheer.

The music was intoxicating, so lively and wild that it was like the very notes themselves were full of alcohol. It was
like being in a room and spinning and spinning with your favorite person in the whole world, holding onto each others
hands, complete victims of the pull of gravity.

The drums resumed, and Raonn put a hand on her arm. Celaena looked at his hand, frowning, and then raised her
eyebrows.

What was he doing here?

She still remembered the way he had touched her, and Celaena bit back on her embarrassment as she looked at what
he was telling her to observe.

The Fae musicians were gesturing towards their mortal co-workers, inviting them to join in. There was some
hesitation, and several of them stayed put, save for the woman, also a drummer, who picked up her own hand-held
drum and pulled a seat beside the she-Fae, her foot tapping. She picked up her drumstick, raised the drum into the
crook of her arm, and, upon the Fae-womans guidance, began to play.

The Fae drummers smiled at their addition, who nodded her head to the beat, her dark, curly hair bouncing, and
exchanged peaceful, pleasant grins with her. The woman, sensing her acceptance, began her own elaboration, striking
a double-note for each of the females notes, her decaying, wrinkling, mortal hand drumming so fast that it was a blur
of wood and flesh.

The leader, the female Fae, signaled the last few cycles of the song, and as it came to a sudden, throbbing stop, the
tavern was awash with noise.

Celaena applauded loudly, laughing as her friends cheered, and she raised her glass to Luca, stretching it across the
table to clink against his. Luca winked at her, his eyes full of gratitude, and Celaena thought her jaw would break from
smiling. Rotating back in her chair as the next song was about to begin, Celaena jabbed her elbow into Raonns side
as the other three mortal musicians quickly pulled over chairs and sat alongside the Fae. Two of them had fiddles, the
other having a flute-like instrument that was similar in color and build to the Faes flute, but, as opposed to the
immortals instrument (which was played vertically), the mortal man held his horizontally.

The Fae woman said something to the mortals, who were silent, but then nodded. She said something else, and the
mortals smiled. The mortal drummer counted them off. Surprisingly, it was also the humans who began. From the
cheers of the crowd, it was obvious that this piecejust as lively and flowing as the other onewas a favorite, and
the Fae waited two cycles before joining in with their own variations.
A few braveand probably drunksouls came on the dance floor, lining up to do what must have been the pieces
complimentary dance. Celaena watched as a few more joined in, making a line of six partners, each pair facing each
other in single-sex rows. The women came forward with the onslaught of the fiddles, skipping, chased back by a row
of skipping men. This repeated a few times before partners linked arms, flying across the room in circles, and then
exchanged partners several times before falling back into rank and repeating again.

Luca stood up, pulling Stephaenya with him, and the young woman recoiled as she passed by Raonn, her eyes wide.
Apparently, having the Fae play for you is one thing, but having one of them sit with you was a completely different
matter.

As a few more couples (now over a dozen) had seized the opportunity to dance, Celaena and Raonn found themselves
standing as several young men pushed back the tables into an even larger ring. Leighanna was almost squished into
the table behind them, and before Celaena could see Cindrillions fate, the young woman was whisked from her chair
by a youth and pulled into a line. To accommodate the number of dancers, two lines had formed, each stomping its
feet and swinging around as merrily as the other.

Celaena turned to Raonn, surprised to see him smiling with amusement. Your instruments are the same as ours.

Raonn rolled his eyes again. Thats because we taught mortals how to make and play them.

Celaena blushed, feeling stupid, her head a bit woozy. So why did you really come here?

Raonn clicked his tongue, turning to look at her. His blue and green tattoo seemed to move in the firelight. Maeve
thought it would be appropriate if we did.

You dont even know Luca.

Its partially a party for Ele of Doranelle, isnt it?

Celaenas mouth twisted. How do you know about that?

Raonn cocked his head, his eyes sharp. You didnt think that Maeve would send you to a big city for such a big event
all alone, did you?

You spied on me? Celaena almost spat out her mouthful of beer.

I was a spectator.

Where?

On the rooftop.

Its a pity someone didnt shoot you for a nice meal.

Raonn stepped on her foot. Its a pity Lord Raal Hynter didnt tell everyone about who you arethat would have
served you right for batting your eyelashes at every male that walks your way.

Celaena clumsily straightened up, her tongue heavy in her mouth. A few things! First: I dont bat my eyelashes at
anyone. Second: How did you hear about Raal Hynter?

The Fae prince snorted. I have excellent hearing. Wheres his ring?

Celaena glanced around, her feet still tapping to the music, and pulled the ring from her pocket. Leighanna stood up,
and Celaena turned back to the crowd to see Luca and Stephaenya calling to her, Cindrillion waving frantically as well.
The old woman squeezed past wooden chairs and tables, and took Cindrillions hand as they pulled her into a line for
the next country dance. Leighanna chuckled as she skipped and hopped forwards and backwards, one hand upholding
her skirts as her long, silver braid flopped against her stooped back.

Celaena waited until no one was looking before she handed him the ring concealed in her hand. Raonn took it from
her, his eyes narrowing as he examined its engraved surface.
How nice it must be for you to know that youve got a secret society worshipping you day and night!

Celaena stuck out her tongue and grabbed the ring back from him, putting it in her pocket. She looked around at the
familiar faces and then turned back to Raonn, her eyes wide. What did you do to the Baroness and her daughters?

Raonn tossed his silver hair behind his shoulders. We put a sleeping enchantment on themthe wont wake up until
noon tomorrow.

Who is we?

Its none of your concern.

Celaena laughed, downing the rest of her ale. Things were very hot and veryfoggy. In fact, when she was speaking,
her lips felt kind of useless.

You should be proud of your friend, Raonn said, staring at Luca dance with the three women in a small circle, raising
and lowering their arms as they came forward and back, turning and crossing their feet.

I am, she said.

Not many people could have done what he did.

Is that you or your queen speaking?

Raonn glowered at her. Me.

Celaena looked at the table, trying to control her urge to go crazy on the dance floor, and smiled. Well, thank you.

You should also be proud of yourself.

Celaena raised her head. Why?

For using all of that magick and hiding it from everybody.

Celaenas heart began to pound violently. You noticed?

Only a pure-blooded Fae could have detected that sneaky trick you pulled. Imagine: trying to conceal your magick
usage in the same manner that you concealed it for fifteen years! Things dont work that way, unfortunately, and had
you been stupid enough to not panic about what you were doing, you would have been disqualified.

Celaena grabbed his hand. Dont tell anyone. The urge to go dance was now replaced by an urge to throw up.

I wont, Raonn said. Besides, he lost anyway. What difference does it make?

Celaena pursed her lips, lowering her brow. Does Maeve know?

Raonn nodded. Yes, and shes very impressed. You used all of that royal magick without anyone telling you what to
do.

Royal?

Well, it certainly wasnt Fae magick.

How do you know?

Because you would have transformed into one of us. Plus, it works differentlyyou wouldnt have been nearly as
exhausted and sick if you had used it.
Celaena frowned. I dont remember it making me sick.

Thats because you havent used it for a decade and a half. Its like a muscle, your magickyou need to exercise it in
order to make it benefit you. Until you get it back in shape, however, its going to hurt and make you miserable each
time you use it.

Celaena was silent.

Can I ask you what exactly it was that you did to help him win each time?

She looked around furiously, her eyes bulging. Can you keep it down a bit? Raonn shrugged.

I dont know what I did. I sort of imagined and felt it alltheres no way to properly describe it.

It was a foolish question to ask.

Well, its not surprising, coming from you.

Raonn glared, and Celaena let out a huff of air. I suppose it was terrible of me to help him like that.

Worse has been done in the name of helping. I wouldnt worry too much about it. Besides, look at what youve
done: youve made this young man happier than hes ever been in life, made his father look at him differently, gained
a friend for both him and yourself that could be a good ally, and, Raonn smiled, you brought two estranged
communities back together in your name. Granted, were not about to begin living side by side with these people, but
this is a start. I think that the musicians mind it less than I do, but theywell, you pried into my insides enough to
know why.

Celaenas blue eyes sparkled, her cheeks rosy, and she stared at Raonn, her wavy, golden hair as glossy and pristine
as any Fae womans. Her red lips were full and smiling, her skin clear, and Raonn, who had thought her moderately
attractive before, was struck by the sudden realization that Aelin Galathynius might actually be beautiful.

What? she asked him, waiting for his continuation. Raonn shook his head.

Often, he said, looking at Luca, its the journey that matters, not the final result.

I know that, she said impatiently.

So, even if you think that what you did was terrible, think about what winning like that did for your friend. Hes never
been a champion at anything, and Im sure that the whole process of training, competing, and winning, has done
more for him than you realize.

The fact that he didnt losethat he instead chose to give up his chances at winninghas made all the difference as
well. He will walk with his head held high, knowing he did the right thing, and when he faces any hardship, this
experience will provide him with the tools to get through it. What you gave him was a physical advantage, but also a
mental evolution that is not included in any definition of cheating on this earth.

Celaena nodded, finally beginning to feel that filthy, miserable cloud in her mind clear up. They were silent, and
Celaena turned back to her friends, her face soon lighting up with happiness as she bounced her feet and clapped her
hands to the melody. It was wonderfulwonderful to know that Luca had done what he did and succeeded, wonderful
to be drinking and dancing with so many people, wonderful to have a few hours to remain at peace with the world.

Raonn watched her, the way her whole persona glowed when she was happyor drunkhis grey eyes churning. Was
this how she appeared to the Crown Prince of Adarlan? She was so different when she was filled with joy! Raonn now
understood that he had only really interacted with her when she was stressed, annoyed, or exhausted. He had never
seen her when she was

Happy.
He observed her eyes, the way they watched each couple on the floor and then stood up, clapping as the song ended.
The Fae musicians took the drinks offered to them and downed them quickly, exchanging words with the humans
before beginning again, the sweat on their face glistening in the light.

Come on, Raonn said, holding a hand to Celaena.

What? she said dully, staring at up at him.

Come with me. He grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet and leading her onto the floor.

What are you doing?

You dont seriously plan on sitting in that chair all night while a woman four times your age is out here, dancing, do
you?

I dont know these dances.

Raonn watched the crowd, grinning at her. Neither do I.

Then why make a fool of ourselves?

If I dont recall correctly, I remember hearing that you and Galan Ashryver did the same thing on Beltaen, he said
above the crowd. Celaena listened to the beat, watched the people dancing, heard her friends call to her and rushed
back to the table, downing the rest of Raonns beer before running back out. She unbuckled her cape and threw it
onto her chair in a heap.

Dont you own any nice dresses?

Celaena frowned. I didnt know that I would be attending a party. Besides, pants are comfortable.

Raonn ignored her and took her by the elbow, leaving her at the end of one line as he took his place across from her.
She looked at the women to her right, dumbly following their footsteps, going forward, then back, then to the side
oops, wrong sidethen to the other, then linking handsoh, wrong partnerthen spinning andoh, its over.

The music stopped, the players deciding to end the disastrous tune before its second cycle, and Celaena pulled Raonn
aside. I really cant do this. Raonn patted her on the head and told her to wait a moment. He approached his
brethren, said something, and returned to Celaena. Wait.

They began playing, the drums rolling and pounding, but it wasnt until the fiddles began to wail that Celaenas hand
rose to her throat.

I know this! I know this piece! Its

She looked at the musicians in wonder. Its a piece from Trasienmy

Mothers favorite, Raonn finished for her. Its actually from here. Your mother brought it over with her when she
married Rhoe Galathynius. Queen Maeve told me.

Celaena looked at him, speechless.

Are you going to dance or not? he asked, and Celaena was silent for a moment before a smile spread across her
face. She felt odd, like she wasnt really thinking properly.

She rejoined the end of the line at which her four friends were dancing, tapping her foot and nodding her head to the
beat, remembering, recalling as she followed their footsteps. She waited until the end of the cycle, growing with
confidence, took a swig of a passerbys beer, and moved.

She charged forward, sashaying past Raonn and turning round, skipping backwards to form a new line behind the
men. She twirled to the side, linking hands with the woman beside her, and twirled in place as they spun through two
men, back to their original line, bouncing. They reformed their original line, the drums keeping them moving in place,
and came halfway towards the men before retreating, putting their hands on their hips.

Celaenas foot swung out, striking the ground ball-first, then flipping to strike on her heel in a double-touch before
repeating the gesture. Celaena raised her head, beginning to laugh as Raonn came forward with the men, grabbed her
around the waist and swung her around, his free hand grasping one of hers as they waltzed around in a circle with the
others. The double-whistle of the flute signaled the next round, and Celaena pushed Raonn into the middle of their
line, beside Luca, as she nudged Stephaenya and Cindrillion aside. Raonn exchanged a funny look with Leighanna, the
only woman in the line, and began to clap as Celaena and the two girls came forward, repeating the skips and
bounces and twirls. The tempo sped up, and Celaenas eyes glowed as she put her hands on her hips, her feet unable
to stop themselves.

While she might have been offensive at singing, dancing had been one of her many childhood talents.

Her ankles flexed, sending Celaena onto her toes, and the assassin beamed in satisfaction as did the same toe-heel
movement

Only better.

Celaenas knees bent and rose, sending her back into the air, her feet fluttering around her as they struck the ground
repeatedly, her boots flexible to her legs movement. She might be terrified of an arena filled with people, but a
tavern

Celaenas leg swung out, almost whacking Stephaenya in the chest, and the girl paused to look at her as Celaena
stood upon her toes and danced, maintaining her balance, her feet flying out and back. As the tempo increased, so
did she, and soon Cindrillion stopped to watch her, disrupting the entire line dance. Celaena stared at Raonn, panting,
a grin of glory on her face, her breasts aching slightly from the bouncing.

Cindrillion was clapping and calling her name, and Celaena felt the full force of the ale hit her as she moved out into
the center of the gathered circle, her feet moving as fast as the drummers hands. She remembered Raonns brutal
training on the balance beam, and as she stared into his eyes, she found herself replacing certain steps with
maneuvers she had learned. She turned in place, her feet not stopping, looking over her shoulder as she moved to
keep her eyes upon him.

Her hair rose and fell around her, creating a bit of a curtain so that she failed to see Stephaenya stare, slack-jawed, at
her feet, which showed no signs of stopping.

Sweat poured down Celaenas forehead, and her breathing became ragged, but as a crowd gathered around her,
cheering as she twirled and bounced in place, her feet nimble and light against the polished floor, Celaena lapped up
the attention.

She had loved to perform for her parents friends, especially for the entire court if they would listen to her, and this
was right down that alley.

Celaena raised her hands in the air, cocking them as she moved her hips a bit, giving her leg movements a bit more
oomph! which made the men straighten up a bit.

The assassin glanced at her friends, and Luca jerked his head as if to ask her to dance. Celaena grinned, breathing
hard, waiting for the end of the cycle, her calves now aching from supporting her raised feet, and grabbed her friend,
almost crashing into him, as the crowd moved aside, cheering as it reformed its couples, and began dancing once
again.

Luca grasped her waist firmly, holding her hand as if she were about to fall, and Celaena couldnt stop from laughing
as they spun and waltzed about the room.

You didnt tell me that you could also dance! he breathed.

Celaena cackled, the alcohol propelling their speed. Im only available to train on Sundays, she said, unable to stop
laughing. Luca squeezed her hand, his brown eyes full of amusement and passion, and raised his eyebrows
mischievously as he suddenly passed her to another partner.
The man was a stranger, but he danced as well as Luca did, so Celaena paid him little heed as he twirled her around
the room before passing her to yet another new partner. It was Raonn.

Enjoying yourself? He wasnt even winded.

All Celaena could do was laugh, though she, for the third time that day, wished fervently that Dorian DeHavilliard
were there to dance with her. Right now was perfect, or as perfect as things could be in a world like this, and she
couldnt remember the last time she had felt so carefree. The faster she danced, the further away her worries were.

Dancing should be a daily, mandatory activity! We should consider days lost when we havent danced at least once
or twiceor three times!

Raonn handed her to another man, barely more than a boy; and as Celaena continued to be passed from partner to
partner, her laughter increased, finding joy and merriment in everything, until all of her friends faces became a blur
of happiness, peace, and life.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 21

Dorian DeHavilliard looked down at the parchment in his hands, then back at the page, incredulous.

Is this a joke?

The page, a young man no older than fourteen, shook his blond head, shaking slightly. Her majesty ordered for a
copy to be sent to you, your highness.

Is she mad?

The page stared at the Crown Prince, not daring to reply. Dorian looked at the decree once again and waved the page
off, closing the doors to his chambers behind him. He ran a hand through his hair as he entered his private study,
dodging piles of books before he sat down in his favorite, worn, red velvet armchair. He closed his eyes, wishing that
when he opened them, the yellow parchment would be blank, and let out a long breath.

He sat up, clutching the paper in both hands, and stared at it again. It was written in the swirly, curly, elegant hand of
one of the palaces many Chief Secretaries, and Dorian read through the declaration once more.

It is our esteemed pleasure to announce and remind the great Continent of Adarlan that, on the night of

Dorian skipped the few lines regarding the time and date.

We are to have a Royal Ball, in honor of both our countrys marvelous history, as well as to celebrate the beginning
of the summer season! Every unmarried lady (if not a member of Renarils court, certificate and documents of nobility
are required) under the age of twenty-nine is to attend; and at the stroke of midnight, it will be our great pleasure to
inform you of the Crown Prince Dorian DeHavilliards engagement to the lady of his choice.

Invitations are required, and confirmation of attendance will be accepted until

Dorian ripped the paper in two, then in four, then in eight, and then into so many pieces that he had to brush them
off of his lap and onto the stone floor. His heart was pounding so quickly that he had to clutch the armrests for
support. His breath came out in hot puffs of air as the rooms temperature dropped significantly.

Had his parents gone insane? This had to be his mothers idea.

No. It had to have been her idea, but my fathers elaboration. I know that this isI know exactly what this is.

Dorian felt nauseated, and as he stared down at the shreds on the floor, the room warmed and his grip on the wood
lessened.

This is a last attempt to control me. This is a testif I refuse to do this, my father willHe will
Dorian was struck by a thought so horrifying that he fought to keep his lunch down.

Gods above, he knows.

He felt trapped, like his room was suddenly too small, like someone was waiting outside for him, like the whole world
was suddenly a glistening orb far away and he had to escape from this castle in order to reach it.

Hes going to hang me and Tiryn and Aedion. He knows everything. Roland began itRoland began to spy on me, and
now hes got spies everywhere. Maybe Tiryn is a spy. Maybe Aedion is a spy.

Dorian tried to stand, but his legs were too weak. He fervently wished that he hadnt sent Chaol away. His friend
would know what to do, hed tell Dorian to remain calm, hed keep him safe from any assailants.

There was a knock on the door, and Dorian almost fell out of his chair. He turned, still unable to rise, and let out a
sigh of relief as another page entered the room, his small chest puffing out to display the gold and crimson emblem of
Adarlan.

Your highness, the boy said loudly, bowing so low that his feathered cap threatened to fall from his head. Dorian,
despite his situation, suppressed a smile. The page was about ten years old, and was probably very, very new to the
job.

Yes? the prince replied, watching as the boy fished out a piece of paper from his leather satchel.

The boy cleared his throat, unrolled the paper, and smiled. Her majesty, the Queen of Adarlan, the boy smiled
wider, wishes to have dinner with you tonight in her chambers, at seven oclock.

Relief rushed into Dorian like a runaway horse. So he wasnt about to be hung for treason. In fact, if his father was
allowing his mother to dine with him, then perhaps

Its either another test or maybe Im justwrong.

She wishes to know your reply immediately.

Dorian leaned back in his chair. He was playing a risky gametoo riskyand he was about to lose. He had to be
smart, he had to make it seem like nothing was wrong

Tell her majesty that I will join her tonight, and tell the florist to send her four dozen of the best spring flowers in his
collection.

The boy bowed. Your highness, he said, nodding his farewell, and then left the room.

If he began to act like he was supposed to, if he began to pretend, then it would only help him, not hinder him.

Yes, hiding in your rooms and only speaking to Tiryn and Aedion is the stupidest thing you could have done. Contact
some of your old friends, contact Bennau and Garoldinvite them to go hunting, to raceYoure being a fool, Dorian
DeHavilliard! Try to act normal

Dorian stood up. If he acted normal, his fathers suspicions would lessen. If he acted normal, he could use it as
evidence for when the time came. If he acted normal, did what he was supposed to do, then maybe, just maybe, the
path towards rebellion would not be so difficult.

He looked at the destroyed decree and frowned. How was he going to get around this? How was he going to get
engaged to a woman, a stranger, when Celaena was a continent away? Would that be accepted? Could he do that?

Dorian stood up, grabbing his sword from where it hung on his bedpost, and left his chambers in desperate need of
some release, wondering just now much being normal would cost him.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Chaol Wydrael leapt into the air as he heard a knock on the door, scattering his meager breakfast of bread and berries
across the kitchen table. He rushed into the living room, staring at the oak door, and winced as another knock echoed
in the silent apartment.

Its me, someone called through the thick wood, and the Captain of the Guard let out a sigh of relief. He trotted to
the door, unlocked both locks, let the king of the assassins in, smiling weakly.

A bit afraid of intruders, are you? the large man winked.

Chaol grimaced. Being cautious never hurt anybody.

Arobynn closed the door behind him and chuckled. You certainly seem to have made yourself at home, he said,
looking around the room. Chaol instantly stiffened as he looked at the mess on the couch.

After being unable to decipher what Celaenas treasure box of newspapers really meant, he had dragged it into the
living room, spread it out across the large couch and table, and had tried to piece things together. Unfortunately, he
had found nothing in the two days since Arobynn had first left him here.

Whats that mess over there? Did you rip apart a newspaper? the assassin asked, striding over.

The Captain of the Guard instantly felt like something was wrong, like this man shouldnt be seeing this.

If Celaena had wanted to show him, she wouldnt have gone to such pains to hide this

But it was too late. Arobynn stood behind the couch, peering down at the yellowed clippings, his silver earring shining
in the mid-morning light.

Thats nothing, Chaol said quickly, rushing over to the table and beginning to gather up the clippings. He blushed as
he scooped them up, piling them back into the trunk, and he raised his green eyes to look at the assassin, his muscles
tensing as he saw the mans face.

There was nothing curious, nothing amused in his expression. It was cold, if not a little shocked, and the man
straightened up as his gaze connected with Chaols.

Where did you find those? His voice was grave. His facial scars seemed deeper, more defiant, and his silver earring
now made him look more like a deadly pirate than a flamboyantly dressed man.

Chaol stopped tossing the clippings into the chest, and his hand fell upon one of the daggers that Celaena had also
hidden within the trunk.

Chaol stood up, his fingers wrapping around the black and gold handle, keeping the mans stare.

Theyre Celaenas.

I know that, the assassin said sharply, but where did you find them?

Chaol didnt reply.

Gods above, boy, Im not going to kill you so put that da

He stopped as he looked at the weapon, his eyes widening. Goddess help her! My protg was a complete and utter
packrat! Did she ever throw anything away?

The man began laughing, but Chaol stood where he was, his hand tightly clutching the weapon.

Arobynns face became serious again. Put your weapon down.

Chaol waited, scanning the man for any signs of aggression, and then put the dagger down on the table behind him,
not daring to take his eyes off of the assassin.
Sit down, he commanded, and Chaol took a seat in a nearby armchair, watching the assassin stare at the open
trunk once more. Did this man have the answers to his questions, or had he just put Celaena at risk?

He hated being spoken to like this, hated the way that this man made him afraid to be disobedient, and he wondered
if this was how Celaena had spent most of her life feeling: slightly terrified.

Arobynn let out a sigh, and then took a few steps forward, stopping to smile grimly at Chaol. Would you like a drink?

Its just past ten! Chaols voice was a bit higher and squeakier than it should have been, and his cheeks burned as
the assassin fought a broad smile.

Ill get you a glass of wineyoure going to need it.

The man disappeared into the kitchen, and Chaol tensed as he heard the man laugh aloud, looking at the three
daggers in the trunk. He should conceal one, hide it in his coat, just in case

Dont you know how to cook, boy? he called into the living room.

I know how to send you to prison.

Chaol, in fact, really did have no idea how to cook in a real kitchen, and had eaten all of his meals either cold or raw.
He was dying for a hot meal, even if it was just a pair of fried eggs and some bacon, and was considering writing to
Dorian to send for a cook.

Arobynn was still laughing when he came out of the kitchen, two drinks in handa glass of wine for Chaol and what
looked to be a snifter of brandy for himself.

So thats where she acquired the liking for it!

Arobynn handed him the drink, and took a seat on the couch beside the trunk, staring at all of the paraphernalia
inside.

If you like, the assassin said, I can have a cook come work for you.

Chaol shifted around in his seat. Iyes, that would be wonderful, he said. Thank you.

Chaol paused, looked out the dirty windows, and then turned back to Arobynn. What news from the outside world?
he asked awkwardly, taking a sip of the sweet wine. He had never finished his breakfast, so he knew that the drink
would probably go straight to his head, but the man was so nerve-wracking that being a little bit drunk while dealing
with him wasnt such a bit idea.

Arobynn shrugged. Nothing, save for the rumors that have begun to come over that we sorely lost the battle of
Peregrinno.

Chaol snorted. Im not surprised. It was a foolish idea to begin with.

Arobynn eyed the youth warily. Some bizarre things were said about why we lost.

Such as?

The assassin paused for a moment. If he said what he had heard at the docks, he could test the watershe could see
just how much this young captain knew

Such as Adarlan was defeated by the entire town of Peregrinno, he stopped, took a deep breath, and continued,
under the leadership of a woman claiming to be Aelin Galathynius of Trasien.

Chaol laughed in disbelief. Thats got to be a practical jokeeveryone knows that Aelin Galathynius is

He stopped, looking down at the trunk, and then at Arobynn.

Dead, the assassin finished for him.

Chaol was silent, his gaze returning to the clippings before he spoke. I dont understand.

Arobynn shook his head. Unfortunately, I do.

Chaol sat up straight, almost spilling his wine, and pointed at the clippings. Did she go over there to rescue the
princess? Did she have some kind of double-mission? Did you

Arobynn crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, waving his free hand to silence him. He took a long sip of his
brandy, and then smiled, displaying his crooked teeth. He adjusted his silver velvet coat, waiting for Chaol to relax,
and then looked at the young man again.

Was Aelin Galathynius not in your plans of rebellion?

Chaol told him no. Ive never heard any mention of her, either from Dorian or Tiryn.

But Celaena Sardothien was in those plans?

Yes, though I dont know what part she was supposed to playprobably assassinating Dorians fatheror making
Dorians dad so angry when he married her that we would have an excuse tocommit treason. The word came out
thickly, as if it werent his own, and Chaol picked up a clipping that read:

AELIN GALATHYNIUS SEEN AT LOCAL TAVERN, SINGING FOR GOLD

And your Prince Dorian had absolutely no connection with Aelin Galathynius?

Chaol shook his head again. No, none at all. Though I suspect that once word reaches the palace, our plans will be
even more complicatedif not ruined.

Why?

Because if Aelin Galathynius is alive, then Trasien is under unjust rule.

Isnt that what you want?

Yes, but that means that the king will be on extra-guard about revolution, and, with our luck, well all wind up hung.

Would the king kill his own son?

To further the empire? Yes.

Arobynn was silent.

Our situation was doomed from the startnone of us have any idea what were doing, save Tiryn, and we dont even
know Aedion, so things will

Aedion Ashryver is working with you? Arobynn almost dropped his drink.

Yes, Chaol said cautiously.

Hes Aelin Galathynius cousinthey were childhood companions.

I know that, but Im afraid that I still dont understand.

Arobynns grey eyes were shining, and he looked down at the trunk, shaking his head. All of this time, he said
quietly, his eyes damp, All of this time
Chaol opened his mouth as if to speak, but the assassins head shot up, his eyes filled with sadness and
determination. If they were all damned anyway, this man, his protgs friend, should know. If she were to die, if he
were to die, someone should knowsomeone should be able to tell Aedion and Tiryn and all of those fools trying to fix
what the bastard in the glass palace started.

What you started.

Arobynn Hamel closed his eyes, then opened them, regaining control.

What I am about to tell you, you just never repeat until it has become safe to do so, Arobynn said, his voice calm.
Do you swear it?

Chaol bowed his head. I swear it on my honor.

Arobynn picked up a clipping, read the title, smiled slightly, then put it back in the box.

Have you ever questioned Celaena about her past?

Chaol shrugged. A few times, but nothing much was revealed, save for the fact that her parents were murdered and
she was raised by you.

And you still just believe her to be an orphaned assassin?

Yes.

Well, the first part is true, as is the second part, I suppose. Arobynn took a sip of his drink. But the assassin is
really just a faade, a creation of mine if you will.

Chaol didnt move. He didnt dare to.

There is no easy way of explaining this, mainly because my intentions were never really simple, nor did they ever
really succeed.

I do not regret what I have done to your assassin, but I am afraid of what my actions will cause in the near future.

The air in the apartment was stifling, and Chaol took two sips of his wine, wishing that the assassin had given him
white instead of red.

I am not a religious man, Arobynn continued, staring at the mantelpiece, not even superstitious. But as of recent, I
have had the information to begin accepting the absurd idea that everything happens for a reason.

Arobynns gaze now fell upon Chaol, his eyes bright and terrible. You may think that you are escaping your fate by
doing something drastic, even treasonous, but there comes a point at which you realize that those actions may
actually be what you were, in fact, meant to do.

He paused, bowing his head as if to gather strength.

You see, as hard as I tried to stop it, Celaena Sardothiens life will always be connected to that of Aelin Galathynius

Chaol blinked, his heart racing. The dead princess? Celaenas been in contact with her?

No, Arobynn said solemnly, his head shaking. Allow me to tell you a story that will clear things up for you, no matter
how horrible they may be.

Chaol was so still that his body began to tremble as he gave his approval.

I was barely thirty years old when the King of Adarlan took over Trasien. I had just begun my rule as chief of the
assassins guild, and had set up our primary headquarters in an isolated castle along the River Florine. No one ever
bothered us, in fact, we maintained a healthy relationship with Trasiens government in exchange for not killing any of
their family members.

But that all changed the night that King Orlon Galathynius, Rhoe and Evaelien Galathynius, and little Aelin
Galathynius, heir to Trasiens throne, were assassinated in their sleep.

Arobynn shook his head. No, thats wrong. Orlon, Rhoe, and Evaelien were killed one night, and the following night
the assassin returned to finish off Aelin.

I awoke the morning after Orlons death to find the country in chaos. The King of Adarlan had been visiting Orynth,
along with his son, Dorian, and had already begun to claim his right to the throne as Orlons third cousin.

As Aelin was not yet dead, I was furious, and prepared to go to Orynth myself to protest the tyrants claim. I saw
what he was trying to do, and I began to pack my bags. I would not have my country destroyed for one mans greed.

Arobynn sighed. I did not know who had killed them, but I sent out emissaries to each assassin I knew, claiming all
of Hells wrath if they were the ones who did it. I never learned who committed the crime.

That night, Aelin Galathynius was killed. No one ever found her body, and the following morning, my despair was
complete.

He now watched Chaol, and frowned as he decided to hold off a bit.

I found Celaena Sardothien when she was eight years old. Her parents were dead, and she was a mess. I took her in,
raised her, and she became Adarlans assassin. She was my pride, my greatest accomplishment. But I did terrible,
terrible things to her, things which I deserve to pay for, and which I expect her to kill me for when she returns.

Chaol leaned forward, his fear turning into curiosity. Why?

Was he ready to hear it? Could he bear the weight of the truth?

You see, Lord Chaol, Arobynn said, clutching his snifter so tightly that it was about to break, Celaena Sardothien is
Aelin Galathynius.

Chaols glass of wine shattered on the wood floor, his face draining of color.

Chaol had never known a magickal moment in his life, nor had he ever desired for one, but as the words came out of
the assassins mouth, his sight faded to reveal imagesimages of Celaena. She stood before him, a white gown
flowing around her, her arms clasped to her chest as if she were pleading with him, the world dark and decaying all
around her. Her blue eyes were full of sorrow as the ground beneath her feet slipped away, his vision zooming into
the blackness to reveal scenes that they had shared together: Celaena reading, Celaena laughing, Celaena in her
prettiest dress, Celaena with Fleetfoot, Celaena with Anuksun, Celaena fighting in the salt mines, Celaena fighting
against Kaltain, Celaena in her assassins robes, Celaena at the dock with Dorian

And then it changed. He had not seen these images before.

Celaena standing on the battlements at Peregrinno, sword in hand, bellowing her orders, then lying on a slab of stone,
bleeding

He saw her in a forest, a glowing forest, running with a silver-haired man, a sword and shield on her back. He saw her
talking with a young man who bore the princes crest of Wendlyn; he saw her sitting with a dark-haired woman so
beautiful and wise-looking that Chaol felt his heart ache; he saw her with a group of people, peasants, laughing. He
saw her at a ball, dancing with that young prince, he saw her running, feeing down the steps of a castle, tears in her
eyes. He saw her on top of a hill, her hand raised to the sky; he saw her before the beautiful woman again, her eyes
wild with defiance, he saw her raise from the groundflying. He saw her on a ship, then before the palace at Renaril,
her face so full of determination and spirit that she looked like a different person

Then he saw her with the king, her shoulders squared, her mouth set as if she were screaming at him
And then Chaol saw it all burn. He saw her stand before him again in the white gown, his hair billowing in the wind,
watching as all of those images burned in a blazing fire, destroying, crumbling until it all just

Chaol gasped, and began to cough violently, putting his head between his knees to stop the spinning feeling in his
head.

Arobynn was thumping his back, and Chaols throat burned as he regained control of his body.

Relaxyou just choked on the wine in your mouth.

Chaol stopped coughing, and he stared down at the shattered glass on the floor. Wine was seeping into the carpet and
the dark wood of the trunk.

Are you all right now?

Chaol raised himself as Arobynn took a seat again. He now understood why she had that something about her, why
she had that aristocratic tilt of the head, why she easily lost control of her mind and body. She had been hiding that
secret for fifteen years, trying to keep it hidden so that this man could

Why? Chaol asked, his mind still reeling. Why did you do it?

Arobynn clicked his tongue. You havent heard the full story.

Chaol was silent, running the mans sentence over and over in his head.

I was on my way to Orynth, following the River Florine, and I saw something lying in the reeds. At first I thought it
was an animal, but as I approached, I realized that it was a young girl, half-frozen and barely alive. I pulled her from
the icy river, unsure of how she was even still breathing after being in the river for so long, and tried to figure out who
she was.

Arobynn grabbed the two items of dirty clothing from the box and passed them to Chaol.

These are not the clothes of a peasant girl.

Chaol ran his hand across the fabric again, nodding.

I saw those clothes and began to suspect. But it wasnt until I saw her amulet, the amulet with the insignia of the
stag, that I knew who she was.

Arobynn fingered a clipping. I had found the missing princessand she was still alive. I checked her for any wounds,
and found none. She later told me that she had been chased by the assassin, and had been trying to find a bridge to
cross the river when she had fallen in. She didnt remember how she survived the frigid temperatures, but I quickly
wrapped her in my cloak and brought her back to my castle at top speed.

It took me a week to get her to regain consciousness, and then another week to get her to talk to me. By that point I
had formulated my plan.

The king had taken full control of Trasien, and I knew that to bring her back would be as good as slitting her throat,
so I found another way to seek my revenge. I knew that she would do more damage to Adarlan if she destroyed it
from within, as an assassin, and so I began to manipulate her fear into rage. I told her that she could never go home,
that to do so would mean the death of the surviving court members, and while Trasien began to fall to pieces, its
court banished or executed, I forged her into my greatest weapon. I made her so terrified of her past that she pushed
it behind her, never allowing it to gain control, but now I see that I wasnt as successful as she or I ever thought.

Arobynn motioned at the clippings, but Chaol didnt look, his face distorted with disgust. Arobynn removed something
from the inside pocket of his coat and tossed it to Chaol, who caught it, staring down at the trinket in disbelief. It was
cold and light in his hands, despite its location beside the mans breast.

If you dont believe me, Arobynn said, look at that: its her amuletthe one I found on her.
Chaol stared at the amulet, an oval of blue cornelian no longer than the length of his thumb, mounted on a bed of
gold with scalloped edging. In its center lay a gold and ivory insignia of a stag, its long antlers reaching upwards to
frame a ten-spiked crown, its long blades pointing to the eight-pointed star that blazed above it. It was the royal seal
of Trasien, so finely made and valuable that only a princess could have worn it. It still hung on a long, delicate gold
chain, untarnished and shining as it must have been fifteen years ago.

Chaol stared at the insignia, at the stag that seemed to be gazing at him with its carved eyes and felt a fire begin to
blaze within him that he had never felt before. All that he could see was Celaenas face, the way her blue eyes always
held that small tinge of sorrow, the way her golden hair moved when she walked. He recalled the things he had said
to her, mean and kind, and the night they had shared, the feel of her body entangled with his.

He then realized that for a brief period, between the dead hours after midnight and the rebirth of life after dawn, the
Queen of Trasien had been his, that he had held her in his arms and given her shelter from this world of horror that
Arobynn had created for her.

This man had destroyed her, he had taken from her what no mortal had a right to take.

You did that, the Captain of the Guard said, his voice shaking with rage, to a little girlto a princess? Are you
mad? he cried, rising to his feet. Do you have any idea what you have done?

Chaol didnt understand why his eyes were filling with tears, why all that he could think of was his friends wronged
life, the sorrow and the sacrifice that she had been forced to make because of two mens greed.

Arobynn remained calm, crossing his legs.

I told you before I began that I did not have any regrets or apologies to make.

You have no apologies to make? Chaol yelled, his eyes wide with disbelief. You have no apologies? You are mad!
You are absolutely mad! He fought back the tears, his arms splayed wide.

Youre forgetting what I first told youthat I now believe that things were meant to happen.

Turning a princess into an assassin is not destined to happen! Are you that delusional? Are you so wrapped up in
your guilt that you need to justify what you did by claiming that the gods preordained it to happen? What did you do
to her magick? What did you do to her that made her lose that as well? Dont treat me as if Im a fool, I know
everyone knowswhat Aelin Galathynius was supposed to be, what she was supposed to have!

Arobynn didnt move, and he played with his silver earring. Im not going to tell you a thing unless you sit down, he
growled, his face beginning to redden, and listen to me before you decide to slit my throat.

Chaol raised himself again, closed his eyes, and took several breaths.

You may kill me if you like, Arobynn said, watching the fuming man, but Ive been waiting a long time for your
assassin to do so, and I dont think that it would be fair to deprive her of the revenge she deserves.

Chaol, his eyes now dry, turned his face into a mask of stone and sat down.

Shell kill youshell splatter you across the walls. Ill make sure of it.

Good, Arobynn said, taking a final sip of his drink before putting it on the low-rising table before him.

Now, listenand wait until Ive finished to have another tantrum, he snarled.

Chaol said nothing, and merely watched the assassin, his blood so cold that he could have snapped the mans neck in
two. His friend, the woman he cared for more than any other of her sex, was Queen of Trasien. Queen.

Dorian was in love with the one person who could topple his fathers empire. Dorian had no idea that his assassin, his
darling, precious, assassin was really Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Trasien. How would he react? Would he still love her
once he knew? Or would he flee, the price of their love too high for him to pay? He knew his friend well, knew the
extent of his courage and will, and Chaol did not take heart.
He ran his thumb over the smooth bumps of the amulet, and stared at it. The gold ten-spiked crown shone in the
light, and he recalled the artifact, which he had seen only twice in his life, each time in the King of Adarlans treasury.
In the highest tower of the glass castle there stood a room, circular in shape, filled with podiums. The King of Adarlan
called it his Dungeon of Crowns.

On each podium, nestled in a black velvet cushion, sat a crownone from each of Adarlans conquered countries.
Chaol had first seen the Crown of Orynth when the king had held a massive ceremony in the room to celebrate his
first conquest. The crown, the only item at the time, had sat on its podium, alonebut not for long. He had seen it
once more, again in his youth, when he and Dorian were stuck in the castle one rainy day, and had conned the guards
into letting them in for a few moments.

It was beautiful to behold: made entirely of white gold with its base only a small band the width of half of his pinky.
Each of its long lances was slender, sharp as a dagger, and topped with a pea-sized diamond. It was the oldest crown
in the world, next to those of the Fae, crafted by the Fae King Glamasil Galathynius when he built the Opal Tower.
Some said that it had magick powers, that it would never rest on the head of one not of Galathynius blood; and Chaol
now recalled Dorian explaining to him that each time his father had put the thing on his head, it had either slipped off
or become so heavy that it threatened to snap his skull in three pieces. It was probably due to this willful crown that
the room had been builtif it would not sit upon a conquerors head, it would be doomed to sit in darkness.

He would see to it that the Crown of Orynth was restored to its rightful owner, assassin or no. His king had been
wrong. His king was a tyrant. If Dorian would not protect her, if Dorian could not protect her, from death once again,
then he would.

He remembered the week she had stalked the streets of Renaril, slaughtering every criminal she could find, and, for
some reason, it didnt matter any more. All of her sins, all of her horrible murders were forgotten. It wasnt her fault.
She was a queen who had been avenging her peopleshe had never killed any good politicians from Trasien. No, she
had murdered the men who had destroyed her country, who tried to sit upon her throne, her uncles and her fathers
and her mothers thrones. She murdered men who deserved to die.

Chaol raised his eyes to the assassin, who was beginning to speak once more. Something was growing inside of him
that he could not begin to fathom, but he know that its origin was from that moment he had seen her in his mind, the
pleading sadness in her eyes as her world decayed and burned. He would make sure that this man paid for what he
had done, for the

Celaena, or Aelin as I should probably start calling her, as she seems to now be calling herself that once again, had
that magick you were screaming about.

Chaol stopped caressing the amulet and began to listen to the assassins drawling voice.

True, I frightened her into never using it, but within half a year, I didnt need to any more. It was gonesomething
happened to it that made it flee inwards, making her rise to fame even easier. I know thats why shes so good, why
she was able to scale walls and kill men in seconds, but I dont know why she wasnt able to react externally with it.

There was something the King of Adarlan did, just around the time that the Fae were also banished and murdered,
that made magickall magick, Fae and royal alikejustdisappear.

Dorian can use his magick. Chaol said without thinking.

Thats because Dorian is a DeHavilliard.

Chaol ground his teeth, wishing he had kept his mouth shut, but couldnt stop himself from asking: What has that to
do with it?

Im suggesting that the king did somethingwith the DeHavilliard bloodlinethat made all other magick stop
working when he took over.

Chaol said nothing.

Dont you understand? Arobynn asked. If there had been available magick, the King of Adarlan would have had an
army of Fae and royals marching out to meet him at every unused battlefield!
Yes, that makes sense, but I dont understand what this has to do with CelaeI mean Aelin.

Aelin. Call her Aelin. Celaena is this mans creation.

Arobynn looked out the window, at the glass palace and the River Venar beyond, a dark look spreading across his
face. It seems to me that our assassin is now in the process of undoing what I did to her. If she used the name of
Aelin Galathynius to openly fight against Adarlan, then she must be undergoing some kind of transformationinto the
queen that she was born to be.

Arobynns brows crossed with worry. But what worries me is that when she arrives back on these shores, the very
tools that shes been sharpening may be useless.

Chaol shook his head. What do you mean? He would fight for her, hed slay any man who dared challenge her claim
to the throne

I mean that when that boat arrives, it will be Aelin Galathynius, not Celaena Sardothien, walking off it, and when she
does what I suspect that she will do, she will find it to be a trap.

But Dorian will

Dorian DeHavilliard isnt doing anything. Arobynn picked up a knife marked with an S and frowned. A series of
invitations went out today to every lady in the kingdom, declaring that at the Summer Ball, Dorian will declare his
engagement to the lady of his choice.

But he loves Celaena! Chaol exclaimed.

He cant have betrayed her, he wouldnt have.

But for all of his shock, all of the dismay he projected unto the assassin, a small feeling began to ache in his chest.
Chaol recalled the smoothness of her body, the tender mounds of flesh that had melted between his lips

Arobynn laughed spitefully. It seems like hes loved many women before.

Its different, the Captain of the Guard snarled, trying to fight the swirl of emotions battling each other for
dominance. He plans on marrying her. Her long legs wrapped around his back

Not anymore. Arobynn Hamel twirled the dagger in his hands. Perhaps your prince wasnt filling you in on
everything.

Chaol opened his mouth, but stopped.

Get a hold of yourself!

He ran over what Arobynn had just said, banishing everything else from his mind, and ran his tongue over his teeth.

Yes, it was possible.

What I would suggest, young lord, the assassin said with an arrogant smile, is that you ready yourself for her
return. He put down the dagger. Because Aelin Galathynius, like your treasonous friends, is also on the move, and
when she comes home, shes going to be very, very angry.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The white stag trotted through the woods, his slender feet light against the virgin grass of spring. It darted across a
field, tall stalks whipping at his white legs, and it bounded into another line of trees. Mounting a hill, a cold sweat
began to dampen his soft hair, and his large antlers swatted away low-rising branches as he came to a stop and gazed
down at the small village. It had a few taverns, several shops, and enough houses for him to know that this was not
the kind of place to be seen.
The stag turned and ran back the way he had come, trying to get back to his starting location before sundown, hoping
that any hunters had already gone home. A boom of thunder echoed across the forest, and the stag increased his
pace as another spring rain began to fall.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Thaelius Glorwynn suppressed a moan as his bones shifted and reshaped themselves, his head throbbing as long
antlers sunk into his skull, his knees threatening to shatter as the bone realigned and thickened into Fae legs.

It had been a while since he had shifted into his animal form, and he had paid dearly for it.

He collapsed onto the ground, leaning against a tree while he panted, running a hand through his golden-brown hair.
He grabbed his black cloak from the pile of his belongings and wrapped it around him, pulling the hood over his head
as the rain beat down through the trees.

He had been traveling for a while now, having departed the morning after he had been visited by his queens spirit,
and was within twenty miles of Orynth, the capital of Trasien. He had passed by earlier today, observing the
blackened Opal Tower before traveling another five miles before stopping here for the night. He was following an
unknown road, but was not worriedall roads lead to Renaril these days.

The Fae Lord looked through the trees, his keen eyesight making out the outline of Orynth, and sighed.

Ever since Glamasil had ordered it built, the Opal Tower had been a symbol of the Galathynius familys rule and
prowess. It rose high above the castle, and today, even with the King of Adarlans tacky glass castle, it was still the
tallest building in the world.

It was built of marble, and was a single tower that rose from the center of the palace, with only a long, spiral
staircase to fill its insides. At the very top lay the Opal itself, a giant, hollow orb shaped much like a closed rose. Its
top had a hole about fifteen feet in diameter, called the Eye of the Gods, through which rain would fall into a sacred
pool, The Pool of Tears, that lay in the center of the Opals inner chamber. The chamber itself, made entirely of white
marble, contained few things: the Pool of Tears, a dais with a throne, and a statue of the Great Goddess herself.
Around the base of the Opal was a slender balcony, which could only be entered through a small door in the side of
the orb, and from that balcony, it was claimed that one could see all the way to Renaril.

Thaelius had only been up there a few times in his life, and had found that the trek up the stairs was so exhausting
that by the time he reached the orb, he could barely focus on the view and the task at hand. How mortals were able
to do it was incomprehensible to him.

But what was most remarkable about the tower was the outside of the Orb. Made entirely of its namesake, it
possessed a core of Glamasils tainted land magickthe origins of blood magickthat caused the colorful lines in the
stone to sparkle and glitter when a Galathynius was in power. It had been a sign of assurance and of glory: legend
had it that the brighter the colors, the more powerful the ruler.

As far back as the Fae King himself, the tower had glowed, but on the night that Aelin Galathynius was murdered, the
tower had gone black. It had stood now, dormant, waiting for its queen for fifteen years, so still and dull that some
had even considered ripping it down. Yet some also considered it proof that Adarlans rule over them was unjustthe
Opal Tower should have glowed for the tyrant.

The King of Adarlan, in an effort to win over his new people, had installed a system of bells in each town, promising
that if the tower burned once again, that the bells would notify the country. A designated person would ring them, and
due to the size and quality of the bell itself, the sound would be heard in the nearest town. That town, with a bell of
its own, would ring theirs, which would notify another town, and so on and so forth until all of Trasien discovered that
its long-lost ruler had returned to claim her throne.

But now they just sat in bell towers across the land, collecting dust, a waste of money and geographic calculations.

Thaelius gathered his pack and retied his bags on his horse. He quickly left his camp, not wanting to waste any more
time, and rode out of the forest and into the rain, catching a glimpse of the mist-enshrouded city to the North.

Lightning flashed, causing a glimmer of color to shoot across the shadow that was now the Opal Tower, and Thaelius
urged his horse into a gallop, taking heart.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard walked into the Hall of Weapons to find a great commotion. A group of men were gathered around
a duel between

Not a duelits one against three!

Aedion Ashryver was sparring with three men, his large, bronze-hilted sword flying through the air in sharp, decisive
movements as his massive shield took most of the feeble blows directed at him. The three rapiers that assaulted the
shield looked absurdtheir blows barely caused more than a delicate clink against the metal.

The generals golden hair flew around his head as he twirled and ducked, lunging to knock aside an opponents
weapon before slamming his broad shield into the gut of another.

Didnt he realize that he was fighting courtiers, not warriors?

The crowd moved aside with several mutterings of Your Highness, and Dorian watched as the man flipped his sword
in his hand a few times and then cracked the rapier of an opponent in two.

Having enough, all three men stopped fighting and lowered their weapons, smiling weakly at the warrior, thanking
him for his time. One of them limped as they walked away quickly, and the crowd dissipated to their own devices.

Dorian DeHavilliard stood where he was, and the general smiled arrogantly as he raised himself from a fighting crouch
and sheathed his sword across his back. His greaves and armor were on, and Dorian hated to admit that if he had
been facing this man in battle, he would probably have run in the opposite direction.

The Crown Prince had come here to release some of the frustration and tension he felt, hoping to find a partner to
spar with, and now, face to face with a man who could break his body apart with his teeth, Dorian began to wish that
he had stayed in his rooms to sulk.

Come to play with your toys? Aedion sneered, wiping the sweat out of his face.

Dorian stared at the general, still impressed that a man so young could be so skilled and powerful. His father had
either been a fool to appoint him or very, very smart.

I did, the Crown Prince said, his temper now rising. Aedion was silent, and he stalked around Dorian in a circle,
giving the prince the feeling as if he were a deer and the golden-haired man were a very large, very angry mountain
cat. Each of his steps was carefully calculated, his calf muscles flexing in the afternoon light, and Dorian couldnt help
but take a step back as he eyed the biceps that still held his shield.

Would you like to fight? Aedion snapped, standing still.

No! Dorian cried, and then blushed, chuckling. I mean, yes, I would like to spar.

Aedions sword let out a shriek as it was pulled from his sheath, and Dorian looked around anxiously as he pulled out
his rapier.

This is a terrible idea.

Aedion clicked his tongue and then jerked his head to the weapons rack. Go pick out a real sword, not some flimsy
thing for court women.

Dorian bit down on the rage that was beginning to boil, remembering his mothers decree. He slammed his sword
back into his sheath, practically stomped to the weapons rack, not even bothering to excuse himself as he walked
past and through the sparring of other partners, and drew a broadsword from the wooden stand. It was much heavier
than he would have liked for it to be, but he kept his face blank as he walked back to the general and tossed his
sword belt aside.

Aedions hair, braided in some places and hanging down straight in others, shimmered, and Dorian felt a twinge of
jealousy as he considered the prospect that perhaps, just perhaps, this man might be better-looking than he.
He hadnt heard of Aedion Ashryver taking any lovers, nor had he ever even heard of him having a wife. But he was
an army man, so

Are you going to take a shield or are you going to use that soft backside of yours?

Dorians sapphire eyes sparkled. He and Chaol had used to spar every day when they were youngerhe was confident
that he was not as pathetic as the three fools that had chosen to accept Aedions offer. The Crown Prince stalked over
to the rack and picked up a shieldbronze, immensely heavyand then returned.

Aedion smiled. I wonder if those weapons come in sizes fit for princelings.

Dorian ground his teeth. There were only two people in the world who could speak to him like that, and this man was
not one of them.

I hope that your fighting technique is a bit more disciplined than your mouth, Dorian snapped, his knees bending.
He had handled a shield and broadsword before. He had practically killed himself during his adolescence to master the
art of swordplay and to strengthen his growing bodyif only just to prove to his father that he was not the weak, frail
child that he had been.

Dorian flipped the sword in his hand, feeling the weight and force of the weapon as his wrist contracted. Dorians grip
tightened around the handle of the shield.

Aedion said nothing and charged.

Dorian turned to his right, taking the first of Aedions blows with his shield. The impact was incredible. Aedion swung
again and again, and Dorians shield raised, his arm vibrating and threatening to break, the sound of metal meeting
metal filling the room. Aedion paused for a second and Dorians sword arm flung up in the air, his shield dropping
back to his side as he laid his first blow upon Aedions shield, almost losing his hold on the sword as it slammed into
the bronze. His loss of control resulted in a series of defensive maneuvers that made the Crown Prince terrified that
the general would actually slice off his head.

He ducked behind his shield, his feet scuffling on the black and white marble floor, trying to find the opportunity to be
able to see properly again. But all that he could see was Aedions hair and his arm as it came up shield!and down
CRASH!

Dorian, finally fed up with hiding, waited until Aedion had landed his next blow to charge forward, slamming his shield
into the mans body. Before Aedion could get a grip on him, Dorian bounced back, swinging his sword onceAedion
duckedtwicenothingand then a third time before he went staggering through the air and felt Aedions boot slam
into his back and push him onto the floor.

Dorians arm ached as his shield landed beneath him, and he could already feel the bruises forming on his chest. His
sword slid across the floor, and Dorian whirled around only to find the golden sword of Aedion Ashryver pointed at his
chest. Several men laughed, and Dorians face was on fire.

Fury and humiliation surged within his breast.

The next time, Aedion said to him, his voice low, his blue eyes burning, you decide to betray the woman you love
and marry another, make sure it isnt Celaena Sardothien.

Dorian gaped at the general, and would have spat back a reply had he not heard a feminine laugh.

General Ashryver, youve slain the Crown Prince!

Both men turned to see the wild curls of Nicolle DeLemanscon bounce as she rushed over to them from an open door,
her red and black dress trailing across the floor. Her tan skin was stretched in a smile, and her dark eyes glistened.

Aedion stared at the woman, his eyes cold, and removed his sword from Dorians chest, sheathing it on his back. Its
a pity I didnt, he growled, and Nicolle laughed loudly.

Dorian, puzzled, rose to his feet, leaving the shield and sword to their own devices.
If you dont mind me asking, Lady DeLemanscon, Dorian asked politely, wiping his hair out of his eyes and rotating
his wrist, what are you doing here? His joint was already swollen, and he rubbed it tenderly.

Aedion continued to stare at the woman, his eyes blazing with something that looked like fury, but she took no heed
of him, and continued to smile at Dorian.

Your mother told me to remind you of our dinner tonight.

Dorian blinked. Our dinner?

Nicolle batted her long eyelashes, and put a hand on her slender waist. Dorian bit back on his irritation, wishing that
he could glower at her like Aedion.

Didnt your mother tell you?

Tell me what? Dorian said, his patience thinning.

That the three of us are to dine tonight!

Dorian clamped his teeth shut, fighting the snarl that wanted to rise to his lips. I wasnt under the impression that
my mother and I would be having any additional guests.

Nicolle linked arms with him, her large-ish nose crinkling at his sweaty form. Dorian was surprised at the strength
with which she pulled him forward, and as she began to walk, he caught a glimpse of aggression in her face as she
said farewell to Aedion.

Dorian looked over his shoulder at the general, pleading with him to interfere, but the man merely turned away,
laughing with the other men as the lady dragged him from the room.

Where are we going? he snarled as soon as they were out of the room. Nicolle squeezed his arm so hard that Dorian
had to wrestle it away from her. He stopped in his tracks, glaring at the young woman.

Your mother sent me to make sure that you are dressed in time.

Its not even five oclock.

Nicolle batted her eyelashes again. As attractive as she was, there was somethingoff about her.

Im not going to get dressed two hours before dinner.

Then perhaps we can take a walk through the gardens.

I was in the middle he snarled, but then he saw someone that made him stop. Duke Perringtonn strolled across
the hallway, his entourage of servants and politicians flocking around him, and nodded briskly at the prince, an
unmistakably malicious gleam in his eyes. Perringtonns wedding band sat like iron upon his thick hands, and Dorian
ignored the horrible memories that fought to rise to the surface of his thoughts.

You know what? he said brightly, taking Nicolle by the arm once more, A walk sounds lovely.

Nicolle brushed a stray curl out of her face, giggled, and began to walk down the hall, her elaborate dress swishing
and sparkling around her.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 22

Celaena Sardothien stared at the empty goblet before her, willing it to move.

As expected, just as it had been for the past half hour, the glass refused to budge. It sat on the table carved out of a
massive stump, its silver surface dull in the twilight. Her brows narrowed, her eyes squinting, as her whole face
bunched up in concentration.
She tried to imagine an invisible hand around it, tried to talk to it, tried wriggling her fingers at it, tried mumbling
some nonsense syllables from faerie-tales, but none of it worked. Now, with her patience as thin as cheesecloth,
Celaena could not stop a growl from escaping her lips.

Move, damn you!

It sat there, looking as bored and solid as the rest of the empty cups and plates on the table, and did not even bother
to give her the satisfaction of the smallest of wobbles.

I SAID MOVE!

Her eyes were now bulging out of her skull, their sapphire and gold orbs blazing.

Try calming yourself before attempting to move it, Maeve said from behind her.

You calm yourself! the assassin spat back before thinking.

Maeve laughed, and Celaena turned around to look at the Faerie Queen, a bellicose look on her face.

The beautiful woman was seated on her marble throne, enshrouded in glistening purple and navy robes that seemed
to have millions of stars throbbing along its gossamer material. A crown of five such stars sat on her head, each the
size of Celaenas fist, their burgundy and cobalt blue centers pulsating as they expanded and contracted, shivering
slightly, along her long raven-black hair. Her ivory skin showed no sign of age, though her violet eyes, filled with the
light that danced around her, revealed much wisdom, if even a little sorrow.

Celaena, seeing Maeve for the first time in a while, remembered what Raal had told her about her engagement with
the Fae hero, Athril, and felt a pool of pity fill her heart.

To lose the one you love is hard enough, but to live throughout the ages, alone, with not even the comfort of death to
ease your pain

You look sad, Maeve said, cocking her head to the side. Was she allowed to bring up the subject?

I Celaena began, biting her lip.

Maeve raised her dark eyebrows.

I cant do this, the assassin lied, gesturing back at the goblet. It wont work.

Maeve considered her words. Your mind and heart might not be willing to try it once again.

But it worked yesterdayI mean, I made Luca win! And I didnt have to mutter things and make ridiculous gestures
with my hands or wish it to happen for so long! I just wanted it to happen and it did!

Then perhaps that indicates that you do not really want to be doing this right now.

Celaena clicked her tongue and ran her thumb across Raals ring, which now sat on her index finger. Im here now,
arent I? I allowed you to convince me to do this instead of running around the woods with Raonn.

Maybe youre still a tiny bit groggy from all of the liquor you put into yourself last night. Your body may not be happy
with you right now, which would explain why it wont respond to your command.

Being hung over has nothing to do with magick.

Oh? Maeve raised a single eyebrow, her flawless skin wrinkling slightly. The last time I checked, I believe that you
claimed to know nothing about magick of any sortblood or Fae.

Celaena scowled and put her hands on her hips.

She had been so drunk by the end of the festivities last night that Luca had had to carry her into the wagon and drop
her into the back, sprawled amongst the ten or so people who joined them for a ride home. It wasnt until eleven this
morning that she had awoken to a loud screech in her ear, and had been so terrified and deafened that she had
flipped over onto the floor, smashing her head on the bed frame before opening her eyes to see Raonn sitting on her
bed, his legs crossed, already looking cross. She hadnt even changed out of her clothes from yesterday, and she
dressed herself hurriedly behind the screen in the corner of the room, throwing on the miserable brown dress and
white apron that had been provided for her. Her hair hung in tangles that could not be cured without a bath, so she
had tied it back with the blue ribbon that Cindrillion had left on her dresser, donning her black slipper-like shoes
before leaving the room, Raonn snickering from behind.

With the Baroness and her daughters due to awaken in an hour, Celaena had gone downstairs to help Leighanna
prepare their meal (a combination of breakfast and lunch), and was immensely surprised when Raonn had gone with
her, still in his Fae form, to wish everyone a good morning.

Celaena, her head throbbing slightly from either the previous night or her collision with the bed, had downed the food
in front of her in lightning speed, chugging several glasses of water before finally feeling a bit more alive. She had
expected Raonn to leave after speaking casually to her friends about their nights, and found it hard to contain her
irritation when he remained in the kitchen, taking a seat at the wooden table and pouring himself a glass of water
from the pewter pitcher that sat on its center.

When she had asked him if he would like a feast to go with his drink, her mouth popped open at the scolding that
Cindrillion and Stephaenya had given her, telling her that as a prince, he was entitled to their entire pantry if he
desired.

It was at that moment that Celaena, for the first time in fifteen years, had really wanted to tell someone that she was
a queen. She could buy this entire region if she bothered to, let alone their pantry. She had almost smacked Raonn
across the face for the look that he gave her, and she remained icy towards him even as they reached Doranelle.

Luca was still ecstatic from the night before, his confidence unwavering, and he had thanked Raonn profusely
throughout the twenty minutes that they sat in the kitchen, telling the Fae prince what a fantastic time heand
everyonehad, and how the whole town, possibly the whole region, was thrilled that the Fae had joined them.
Celaena, her hangover now really a hangover, had drowned out his babbling until it became too much to bear, and
then dragged Raonn out of the kitchen without even saying goodbye to her companions.

She remained silent for their journey, slumped in the saddle of her white horse, and each time that Raonn began to
speak to her, she merely pulled down her bottom eyelids with both hands and stuck out her tongue. After trying three
times to ignite a conversation, the Fae lord had merely transformed himself and flown off, leaving her to find
Doranelle on her own. Celaena, now sorely regretting all of the dancing and drinking, couldnt have cared less. The
horse seemed to know where it was going, and she was too tired to even bother holding the reins.

But every now and then she heard a shrill squawk that reminded heror the horsethat her company was still within
eyeshot of her trudging pace. When they reached Doranelle, Maeve, of course, had questioned her on everything,
from her cheating to Raals discovery. Celaena had told her everything that she could recall, trying to contain her
anger as the Fae Queen had given her an I told you so look upon seeing Raals ring.

Celaena, still too out of it to really care, had allowed Maeve to bully her into training and reintroducing her magick, an
event that began and ended with her attempt to move a simply cup from the table of empty dishes that the queen
had provided. Raonn, thankfully, was nowhere to be found, though now that she had woken up a good deal, the
assassin felt slightly guilty about shunning him earlier.

It wont work, no matter what I try, she said again, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Perhaps there is too much on your mind for your magick to respond.

There was the same amount on my mind at the tournament!

Yes, Maeve said, a small smile on her red lips, but you were incredibly focused on the task at hand. Whereas here,
she gestured at the glowing gardens and forests of Doranelle, your mind may tend to drift.

Celaena scratched her brow, I suppose youre right.

Maeve let out a breath that could have been a snort or a sigh, and leaned back in her throne. Sit, she said, and
immediately an ornately carved wooden chair, backless save for the armrests that folded downwards like vines,
appeared before her throne. Tell me what troubles you.

Celaena awkwardly took a seat, rearranging the fine clothes that Maeve had given her to wear. The doeskin boots
were so comfortable that it felt as if she werent wearing shoes at all, and her pants were a frosted green. Her tunic,
shape hugging with sleeves that split around her elbows and flowed outwards from their flower-embroidered slits, was
a silvery, golden shade of spring green. Around her waist hung a heavy golden belt, a single line embedded with
rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls, and Celaena tried not to think of the price that such an accessory would fetch
in any world market. The outfit itself reminded her of what she had worn on her first day out of Endovier, and the
assassin fervently wished that she had her green velvet cape to complete it.

I dont know where to begin, Celaena said, staring at Goldryn, which lay near the foot of Maeves throne, its
scabbard dull and lifeless. She had removed the defense plans from the swords case and hidden them deep within her
sack, and checking to make sure that they were still there had now become a part of her daily ritual.

Select any subjectthe order doesnt matter.

Celaena was silent, and then shook her head. I really dont know.

The grass was a vibrant shade of green beneath her boots, still soft from the spring rains that had ceased to fall for
the past few days.

What about the Lord Thaelius Glorwynn?

Celaenas head snapped up so quickly that she winced in pain as a muscle strained slightly, and she rubbed the aching
area as she stared at Maeve, looking for any spark of amusement in her glowing eyes.

What about him? she asked cautiously.

You contacted him in your dream, if Im not mistaken.

Celaena shifted around in her seat, chewing on her bottom lip. Was there anything that she didnt know about?

I didnt mean to.

You told him what to do to find you. Maeves voice was inquisitive, but kind.

Celaena frowned, feeling a bit of sadness creep into her heart as she recalled the memory. He looked so forlornhow
could I not try to help him?

And you remember that he is your betrothed? Maeves voice was not so warm anymore.

Yes, Celaena said quietly. Her heart began to beat quicker, and she recalled his golden hair, the way his gray eyes
still held that spark that had made her cling to him as a child, the way his voice now made her face burn in ways that
she had never experienced before.

I see that as a woman, you are not immune to his charms. You should be relieved that your intended is someone
whom you are attracted to.

Celaena shook her head. But you told me that my choice would be between Dorian and Galan.

I said two princes, though I also assumed that it would between Adarlan and Wendlyn.

Thaelius isnt a prince.

He is a Prince of the Fae.

Celaena didnt reply, so Maeve continued.

You wonder what will become of him when he learns of Dorian DeHavilliard.

Celaena felt slightly sick, and the world spun slightly, but she managed to nod. I dont have any plans toI mean,
Dorian never said anything toand I dont really lo

Dont say words that you will regret later, Maeve said with such aggression that the assassins nerves tightened.

Celaena a stared at the Faerie Queen, watching her porcelain face resume its calm demeanor.

I apologize, Maeve said, sighing. Im afraid that young love is a subject that I am not too well-versed in.

Celaena hesitated, listening to the sound of distant singing for a moment before speaking. But Raal told me that you
well, you and Athril wereengaged.

Maeve closed her eyes for a moment, smiling sadly. Ah, she said, her voice quiet. I knew that you would discover
that at some point.

So then you do know something aboutromance, Celaena said carefully.

I was very young then, Maeve said, and Celaena wondered if one could consider a couple thousand years old as
young, but to someone who had lived since the dawn of time

And very much caught up in the war with the Valg, at the center of which was Athril.

How did you two fall in love? Celaena asked, blushing at the immaturity of her question.

Wewell, I Celaena felt sick as Maeves face showed signs of color, the queen shifting around as if she were

Fidgeting.

No one has really ever asked me that question, Aelin, Maeve said, regaining her countenance.

If its something that is too difficult to explain, Celaena began, but she was cut off by a wave of the hand.

I should tell you the story, simply so you understand that even your situation is not that uncommon.

Celaena was silent, still unnerved by Maeves inability to keep herself calm, and waited for her to continue.

As I said, I was very young thenall three of my sisters were alive. As Athril was one of the First Born, he and I
were, of course, very old companions. He was always charming and attractive, and, if Im not mistaken, almost
identical to your Thaelius.

Maeve sighed. But now is not the time for alarming coincidences. Athril was very peaceful before the Valg broke into
our world, and he and I spent much of our time dwelling in the forests in friendship with our kind, too in love with our
new world to notice each other romantically. The only death we had known was that of animals, though their mortality
did not trouble us.

It was only when we discovered, upon the Valgs entry, that we could die that everyone changed. Athril, as you
might remember, went into the mountains and forged Goldryn, bringing back three other swords for my sisters and I.
Norbyth, my sword, remains here in Doranelle, though the swords of my sisters, Mab and Mora are elsewhere. I
believe that Beladin, the sword of Mab, is currently being passed down through the generations by the Ashryver
family, and that Selsin, the sword of Mora, is lost somewhere on Adarlans continent, along with the empire that was
made and destroyed in her name, long, long ago.

Maeve shook her head, the stars trembling as they sought to follow her swift movements.

Before departing on a quest to find a way to send the Valg back to where they came from, Athril and I spent a good
deal of time together fighting the first battles against them. We overcame many dangers, and I suppose that with the
realization that our mortality could be easily wrought, and the prospect that our doom might be at hand, we became
enamored with each other and fell in love.

I dont know if he ever truly loved me, or if I truly loved him when I accepted his offer of marriage. I was due to
depart on my quest the following morning, and it seemed the right thing to do. II think that if I had known that it
would be the last time I laid eyes upon his living form, I would have felt differently.

Maeve was quiet, her eyes lost in the folds of time. Athril died, I lived, my companions and I managing to close the
rip in dimensions that the Valg had created, and with our diminished armies, the Fae destroyed the remaining forces
of our enemies and began healing the land. I was sad, yes, but we were in the middle of war, and it was not time to
grieve. Im afraid to say that after the war, I was so entangled in fixing what the Valg had destroyed that even then I
did not grieve. After peace was restored, I was faced with the problem of Glamasils growing insanity, and it wasnt
until the first humans emerged that I found myself with time to grieve.

But I was now Queen of the Fae, ominous and whatever mortals might make up about me, and it was my duty to see
to it that humans were well-integrated into our world. You can only guess how time has passed since. I still have not
have time to grieve for him, nor do I think that I ever will want to take the opportunity. The Fae are diminishing, and
I would rather dedicate my waning powers to helping my people than to mourn a romance that died thousands and
thousands of years ago.

Maeve smiled, though Celaena felt like crying. How could anyone go for so long without that kind of release? She
could barely last fifteen years.

I think that he loved you, Celaena said quietly, pity etching her voice. And I think that you loved him. I dont think
that you were caught up in the war at all, and I think that you would rather use that as an excuse to hide your pain.

Maeve raised an eyebrow. Oh?

Celaena nodded. Youre speaking with the Mistress of Denial.

Maeve, to her surprise, laughed, a sound so merry and light that Celaena felt her blood warm and sparkle inside of
her. I suppose that its hard to fool a professional, the queen said.

Celaena cocked her head to the side, grinning.

Well, Maeve said, still smiling, you should consider the situation that youre currently in: youve got, let me count
one, two, three, four, five suitors.

Five? Celaena asked, her mouth popping openeither from Maeves sudden casual behavior or from the prospect
that perhaps she had actually been dragging around five men.

Shall we name them? Maeve asked, the stars now whirling around her head.

Celaena clicked her tongue.

Dorian, Thaelius, Maeve began, her tone sharp with amusement, Galan, Chaol

Celaena raised her eyebrows. Thats only four!

Maeves violet eyes glittered. I believe that you know the fifth one.

Celaenas brows knitted as she thought, then exploded towards her hairline. Ha! she laughed. Youve got to be
jesting with me! He would sooner look at a cow with romantic intentions!

Maeves smile did not falter. Do not think that I failed to see Prince Raonns growing attachment to you. Its quite
surprising, if you ask me, though Im afraid that its doomed from the beginning.

Celaena huffed and rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself from turning as red as a beet.
Four or five suitors, she grumbled, I still did not intend to have more than one, and I would hardly call Chaol and
Galan suitors when they havent even romantically pursued me.

Maeve had a gleam in her eye that made Celaena silence the queen with a sharp look before she could even speak.
So, if anything, I only have two suitors, and I doubt that wedding bells will be heard for either of them.

Even for Dorian DeHavilliard?

Celaena snorted. Yes.

What if Thaelius were to still wish for your hand in marriage?

I, Celaena began, but could not fight the absurd giggle that burst from her mouth. She quickly placed her hands
over the now O-shaped hole, her eyes wide as if something unspeakably horrible had burst from the dark vicinity of
her mind. Maeve laughed again, her sickle-shaped earrings jingling as she shook her head.

Celaena removed her hands, a scowl appearing on her face as her girlish fantasies rose to her mind. If he were to
wish it, I wouldI mean, she stuttered. I hardly even know him.

You know him well enough to fall to pieces over the thought of him, Maeve said coyly.

Iwell hes a very attractive man. Fae. Male Fae.

Maeve chuckled. You recall that his Fae form is that of a stag, dont you?

Celaena blinked a few times, her heart now pounding furiously. No, she hadnt remembered. She had forgotten
completely.

If his form is that of a stag, then he must really behe must really

No, she said softly, her eyes now falling to the ground. I did not remember that.

Maeve said nothing, though the sadness in her eyes did return.

But what about Dorian? Celaena suddenly exclaimed, feeling guilty for reasons that she did not yet fully understand.

What about Dorian indeed, Maeve replied.

He loves me, Celaena said dumbly.

So your dreams together have told me. But what of your feelings? Do you still deny them or perhaps are they really
not as deep as the Crown Princes?

Celaena gaped, her eyes filled with confusion that was suddenly exploding everywhere. I dont know, she cried. I
didnt really think that there would be a choice!

Celaena saw both men, one practically a stranger and the other one so dangerous to her safety that to be with him
would mean sure death. She put her hands on either side of her head, fighting the whirling and spinning that was
turning her stomach and heart into mush.

Im so confused now! she exclaimed. I thought that it was just Dorian, but ever since I saw Thaelius that night, its
been this mess inside of me!

Love is a complicated thingto keep all of this buried within you would drive any person mad.

What can I do? Her voice almost cracked. She didnt know that she had been in this situation all along, or that soon,
very soon, she would have a choice to make.
I do not know, Maeve said solemnly, but acknowledging that you do have a handful of men waiting for your
decision is something that might help you with your magick.

Celaena nodded. Now that she did think about it, she did feel a lot lighter, as if a weight had been removed from her
heart. She still had time, she had to return to Adarlanshe could use the return journey to sort things out

And what of Raonn and Galan? Will you leave them on the shores of Wendlyn, calling after you?

Celaena shook her head, her untangled hair moving around her. Ill think about that all laterif I think about this
now, it will drive me crazy.

She was talking more to herself than to Maeve, though she did feel a bit more relieved when the Fae Queen nodded
her agreement.

Now that weve brought that subject to the surface, Maeve said, shall we try again?

Celaena opened her hands, which she had unknowingly clenched into fists, and agreed, feeling as if she had released
a thousand birds into the afternoon sky.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver sat on the ledge of a circular fountain in an unmarked square in pel, waiting for Raal Hynter to finish
his meeting with Baron Ghent. Dressed in common clothes, Galan was relieved to find that no one bothered to notice
him, and he found that people-watching from his comfortable spot was a wonderful activity. The town was still awash
in post-tournament celebration, and the Crown Prince of Wendlyn had been surprised to find a letter from his friend
written the day of the tournament, demanding that he meet him in pel the following day. It had sounded urgent, not
like the letters that the boys had sent each other when they were younger, calling each other to drink for the night,
and so Galan had immediately known that his friend was not calling him to celebrate his victory.

Galan brushed his dark hair from his face and stared up at the townhouse to his right, tapping his foot. As much as he
liked Ghent, the prospect of having to interact with Brenn had kept him from making an appearance. He had been told
what the boy had done to his friend in the tournament, and had wished that more disciplinary action had been taken.

Galan already knew that the young man would not be invited to join his Royal Court.

Galan turned his attention from the townhouse to the street that lined the square, horses and wagons trailing past in
clouds of dust and dirt. For the sake of his safety, it was probably not wise to be sitting in the open like this, but after
his experience in the Gulf of Baello, not much had frightened him.

His father and mother had eventually heard the full story, and had immediately understood why the Crown Prince had
insisted upon not having a feast to celebrate. It seemed to him that the soldiers around the palace also understood,
and it was with glowing pride that the youth began to realize that not only his friends respected him now.

After his exhaustion had worn off, he had come to realize how different he felt. The world was now a lot smaller, more
fragile, and he suddenly felt the weight of his people upon him. He had obligations that came with his privileged life,
and he would see to it that his people were kept safe and happy as long as he lived.

It had surprised him when all three Hynter brothers had rushed into the castle, raving about the rumors of Aelin
Galathynius appearance at the battle of Peregrinno, each waving in his face the ring that most of the Royal Court of
Wendlyn wore. They had forced Galan to take it out of the box in which he kept it, put it on, and toast to the health of
the long-lost princess.

Galan, of course, thought of her when his mind wasnt distracted with thoughts of Adarlan and the battle, which
actually turned out to be quite often. How she managed to lead and survive a battle with no official army was a
miracle.

How she managed to use her name and not die of terror is another.

He was pleasedimmensely pleasedthat she had come forward under her true name, though it still worried him that
she had not come to find him once again. He could remember the flow of her golden hair, the way her curves swayed
when she walked, the way her body had felt in his hands when they had danced at Beltaen
Though she was his second cousin, he could not dismiss the feelings that rose in his chest when he thought of her. He
would do anything to keep her here, safe, in Wendlyn, and should she arrive at the ball like he had asked her to

Galan straightened, the red stone of the fountain cutting into his behind, and watched the road. He would think of that
later.

But, try as he might, he could not stop from thinking about the way her statuesque form had danced, the fire in her
eyes when she spoke to him, the way her broad shoulders carried her long neck with aristocratic ease

In fact, it seemed like he was hallucinating.

Galan blinked as he saw a wave of golden hair flow towards the street, its long locks reaching towards a slender form
had she lost weight?in a dress that could easily be for a peasant. Yes, he had known her to dress like that.

He caught sight of the tell-tale ivory skin and stood up. It was her!

It had to be her!

She looked to be carrying something, tons of boxes, and Galan stood still, his heart pounding wildly, as he saw her
dart out onto the street, struggling beneath the weight, and let out a scream as a horse charged at her, rearing,
knocking all of her boxes from her hands. Clothes spilled out onto the ground, and Galan rushed forward as he saw
her stare dumbly at the irate driver.

He reached her, blood pumping to his face, his hands trembling slightly. She was much tinier than he remembered.

Her back still turned towards him, Galan yelled a few words of dismissal at the driver, frantically picking up and
stuffing the scattered clothes back into the boxes and bags that they had fallen from. It wasnt until they were all back
in their containers that he stopped to look upon her, both of them still kneeling in the ground.

His heart froze.

This was not Aelin Galathynius.

The girls blue eyes were full of gratitude, and her face, while much more gentle and calm than the princesss, was still
beautiful and alluring in a way that made Galan continue to stare. Her heart was now beating fast again, and he
looked down, both of them blushing, as he helped bring the boxes back onto the curb.

You would have expected the man to at least have helped you with your boxes, Galan said, feeling slightly stupid as
he surveyed her face once again. She could have been Aelins twin were it not for the difference in their body
structure. He couldnt remember the last time he had seen such a pretty peasant.

He had his job to do, and I have mine, she said quickly, her voice light and sprite-like, filled with an odd kind of
intelligence and smoothness that made her craned neck seem swan-like. Try as he liked, Galan Ashryver could not
tear his eyes away from her.

It was as if Aelin were a muddied version of her, like he had seen this girl in a misty dream, and had confused his
cousin for this woman, who now stood before him with perfect clarity. She looked down at the boxes, frowning, and
began to pick them up with a click of her tongue.

Let me help you, Galan said, his limbs feeling so awkward and clumsy that he nearly dropped the boxes on the
ground again.

I can handle them myself, thank you very kindly, she said, a bit of amusement playing across her face before
breaking into a full smile.

The whole world was expanding and contracting, spinning unevenly, and Galan couldnt help but reach out a thread of
his inherited power from Mab to both steady himself and try to figure out what this girl was using to ensnare him.
He found no traces of magick in her, save for a distant sparkle, though it seemed that magickFae magickstill
lingered on her skin. There was a taste to her essence that made rows of chills run down his arms, and as he stared
into her crystal blue eyes, the whole world seemed to be large and free again.

It was with a bit of a shock that Galan realized she was staring at him, her head cocked slightly to the side, and for a
moment, he was afraid that she had recognized him. But all that she did was smile, boxes gathered in her arms,
watching him with the same dumbfounded interest that he could not hide.

Around them, the town continued to flow and rush past, taking no heed of the two commoners. There was something
so odd about this, so strange and predetermined that the moment, the twenty or so seconds that they stood there,
silent, lasted forever.

A shrill cry erupted from across the busy street, and immediately the moment was shattered. The girl looked across
the street, her eyes now wide with unadulterated fear, and Galan took a step back as he felt a sharp disturbance emit
from her. He turned his head to see the person who had caused her much alarm, and almost ducked behind her as
the Baroness Du Tremaine appeared, her hands on her hips. Joline waddled up to her mother, and soon after
Marghenna awkwardly approached, and all three girls glared at them.

Galan was frozen in place, his mouth parted in a silent O, and he fought against the urge to run as the Baroness
opened her mouth and screamed: Cindrillion! at the top of her lungs.

The girl began to frantically pick up the last few boxes, and Galan assisted her, relief rushing into his tensed nerves as
he realized that she had not recognized him.

I should dress as a commoner more often!

Galan stared at the girl as she finished gathering her belongings, a look of panicked worry spreading across her face
undoubtedly from the dirtied contents in her armsand he instinctively grabbed her thin arm as she began to hurry
forward, stopping her so quickly that her boxes threatened to topple once more. He could feel the eyes of the
Baroness on him, but he kept his gaze upon the girl, hoping that she would remain blind to his presence.

I Galan began, unsure of what he was even going to say, his heart now thumping so hard against his chest that he
couldnt breathe. What was he doing?

I have to go, the girl gasped, her eyes filled with the same panic that he had seen on Aelins face weeks before.
Galan released her arm and stepped back, watching as she fled across the street, her head bowing as the Baroness
began to scold the girl. The prince winced, wishing that he could help her, but stood where he was.

Cindrillionwhat a strange name.

He watched them disappear down the street, the girl staggering and swaying beneath her multitude of items, and he
marked her face in his mind. He had mistaken Aelin Galathynius for a servant girl once before, but he was sure that
this one was real.

Fanur is going to kill me.

Galan Ashryver waited until they had gone, his eyes straining to see them past the bustling traffic, and then turned
back to his fountain, unable to shake the overwhelming feeling that a crucial moment in his life had just passed by.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien paced up and down before the table, her teeth barred. After twenty minutes of trying, the goblet
still wouldnt move.

Maybe if you tried Maeve began, but Celaena cut her off, whirling around.

Tried? Tried? Theres nothing I havent tried, tell me something that will work! Celaena spread her arms open, her
face contorted with near-desperation.
Celaena, not waiting for the queens reply, resumed stalking around the table with the intent and ferocity of a
mountain cat.

You shouldnt expect to be able to start using your talents immediatelythese things take time.

I was able to use them at the tournament!

Again, your desire and concentration may have overridden whatever thoughts are blocking your magick from coming
forth.

Celaena stopped pacing and stared at Maeve. Weve already discussed the absurdly complicated status of my
romantic life.

The Faerie Queen did not speak for some time, and Celaena, to avoid her piercing gaze, stared at the garden around
them. It was the same grove in which they held all of their meetings, lined by tall trees with bushes that sparkled and
shone as if thousands of fireflies were nested within them, the ground covered with soft grass and dotted with moss-
covered stones. It would have been a wonderfully relaxing place had it not been for the melodrama that occurred
every time she stood within the circle of trees.

Celaena looked over her shoulder, through the vegetation, and at the shimmering buildings of Doranelle, each like a
small pebble compared to the Great Tree that lay in the center. She tried to imagine how the world had looked when
the Fae had inhabited most of its surface, and was surprised to find a throb of sorrow beat alongside her heart as she
pictured the much-diminished landscape of her world.

I know that, Maeve began, and Celaena turned back towards her, watching with curiosity as the queen stood and
stepped down from her throne, telling you to clear your mind of all troubling thoughts would be futile.

Celaena raised an eyebrow, trying not to step back as the Fae woman approached her. On her throne, she was
heavenly, but up close, she still remained imperious, imposing, and impassible.

Perhaps, Maeve continued, it would be better to suggest that you attempt to come to termsto make peace if you
willwith the thoughts, with the memories, that are haunting you.

Celaena shook her head. Thats impossible.

And why is that?

Her heart was now beating at an irregular pace, so fast that she felt as if her chest would implode. I Celaena
began, but stopped, her voice fading into doubt.

Maeve smiled warmly, and Celaena fought the urge to fall into a daze from the scent of jasmine and moonflowers that
was radiating from the queen.

You have taken many steps while here in Wendlyn, Aelin. The battle of Peregrinno, meeting Raal Hynter, contacting
Thaelius Glorwynn, training with Raonn and myselfjust to name a few. But while they have been positive steps,
many of them have been in different directions. Maeve brushed aside one of her ebony locks and stared so deeply
into Celaenas eyes that she felt as if her body would topple backwards.

If you were to get your past in order, to understand where youve come from and the circumstances under which you
are here today, I know that these steps that you have taken will align themselves into a straight line.

Celaena began to object.

And, Maeve said sharply, I know that once your history is set, once you finally comprehend your situation, your
magick will respond.

Maeve smiled again. Now, you may try to tell me any objections that you might have to this, though you should
know that my ears, however keen they might be, will be quite immune to them.
Celaena pursed her lips, still feeling wobbly. Could she do it? Could she even manage to think about her past without
slipping into a state of insanity?

I dont even know where to begin, Celaena said flatly, shaking her head. It was true: even if she did try to go back
in her memories, it would be of no use. I cant remember much of anything.

Maeves dark eyes glistened. I believe you remember more than you think.

Things were happening too fast, it was all so sudden. Only yesterday had she first managed to talk about her past
with a stranger and not run away at top speed. Only yesterday had she managed to use her royal blood magick
successfully. She barely acknowledged what she and Maeve had been doing for the past few months, barely realized
what her real identityand destinywas supposed to be. It made her sick to think about it, it made the whole world
spin off-kilter, and made her heart beat so quickly and irregularly that she might faint.

I cant do this, Celaena admitted, closing her eyes. Its too soon.

If not today, then when, Aelin Galathynius? Maeve said so harshly that Celaena opened her eyes to find that the
queens stare was no longer kind. The blackness that she found within their purple orbs was terrifying. It reached out
for her with long, spindly arms, grabbing onto her hair and pulling her inwards and down, down, down

Celaenas mouth opened in a silent scream, but as soon as the sharp fingers had spread towards her, they were gone.
The grove was back, Maeves eyes were violet, and Celaena took a few steps away, trying to catch her breath. What
was that?

What that the wrath of the Fae Queen?

She was freezing, her arms were covered in goose bumps, and Celaena furiously ran her hands up and down her
limbs to bring them back to life.

You have nothing to fear here, Maeve said quietly, though she did not offer any apologies. I will not allow you to
slip into the mental limbo that your master instilled within your heart.

Celaena, staring at Maeve, had the unnerving feeling that, should Arobynn ever move to Wendlyn, he would not live
past a day.

Going into your memories is difficult, yes, Maeve said, but I can assist you in a way that might make provide you
with the opportunity to remember much of what you believe to be lost.

How? For some reason, perhaps it was a single star that sparkled a bit more brightly than the others in Maeves
eyes, Celaena felt her fear begin to drain away from her. She was twenty-twoa woman! It was embarrassing that
she was so childish about her past!

Perhaps I should just tryjust to see

She recalled Raonns words a week or so earlier.

Im not selfish. Im not self-centered. I dont want to be that way. Im not that way.

Before she died, I was able to communicate with your mother in ways that you will someday learn once you reclaim
the castle in Orynth. I was able to look into her thoughts, to see her memories, which is a thing far easier than long,
time-consuming conversations.

Celaena ignored the flicker of shame that always appeared at the mention of Evaelien Ashryver Galathynius, and
focused on her companion.

I still have her memory of the night that you were born, though most of her memories of your childhood had long
since faded from my mind.

I dont understand, Celaena said, her mind reeling a bit. How could someone have another persons memories?
You will, Maeve said, and took a few steps towards her. They were now no more than a hands breadth apart, and
Celaena had to tip her head back to stare into the tall womans face.

Close your eyes, Maeve said, and do not be frightened by what will happen. No one will be able to see or hear you,
and you yourself will be invisibleall that you will be able to do is observe.

Shh, Maeve soothed, and put her hands on either side of Celaenas forehead. Her fingers were smooth and cold
against Celaenas skin, and the assassin tried her hardest not to squirm under the womans touch.

The world began to go in and out of focus, as if she were caught between dreaming and waking, and Celaena shut her
eyes against the dizzying sight. From far away, she heard Maeves voice say: Sometimes, in such dire circumstances,
one simply has to take the plunge, before the darkness of her eyelids became a torrent of wind and Celaena felt
herself be transported away.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Someone was running through the halls, banging on doors, their feet flying across the white marble floors as they
shouted the good news. As the messenger passed by, the doors all burst open, excited faces popping out to stare
after their friend before turning to each other to exchange words of joy. Though it was almost three oclock in the
morning, the residential halls of the Castle of Orynth were soon teeming with life, the entire Royal Court making its
way up the stairs to the chambers of Rhoe and Evaelien Galathynius.

The princess had been in labor for thirteen hours, and though the baby was arriving exactly on schedule, the castle
had suffered from such extreme anxiety that the news of the childs birth released a cascade of celebration.

Rhoe had been so nervous throughout the entire thing that he had gone through a good portion of the liquor collection
of his uncle, King Orlon. Now drunk and uncontrollably ecstatic, the twenty-six year old man was alternating handing
out very old, very valuable bottles of wine to whomever he saw with rushing in and out of Evaeliens birthing room to
coo at and tearfully hold his newborn daughter.

Orlon, having rushed upstairs in only his nightgown and nightcap as soon as he had heard that the baby had begun to
breach, now sat with an exhausted Evaelien, smiling proudly at his sleeping great-niece as she lay in her mothers
arms.

The door to Evaeliens room clicked open, and the aging king looked over as Rhoe Galathynius trudged into the room,
shaking water out of his sodden dark brown hair. Orlons brown eyes lit up as he began to laugh, his tan, wrinkled
face full of amusement. Threw you in the fountain, did they?

Rhoe scowled, but then smiled broadly at Evaelien who was watching her husband and uncle in a half-dazed state of
amusement. Her long blond hair was limp with sweat, and her ivory skin, normally glowing and full of color, was pale.
Only her blue eyes still showed signs of life, though even their luster had diminished through the difficult labor.

In her slender, long arms lay a bundle of lace and white cloth, the softest she had found in the nine months that she
had been stocking, over-supplying, and obsessively shopping for her childs clothing. She had always wished for a girl,
and though she knew that Rhoe had been hoping for a boy, she could tell that he loved their child from the moment
she had been pushed from her womb, red and white and screaming at the top of her lungs. In fact, the girl had been
screaming so loudly that even the two midwives had exchanged looks, though Rhoe had merely put his hands on his
hips, tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh, declaring the girl already as fierce and strong as a lion from
Eyputiusunn.

Evaelien didnt care if the girl were a lion or a field mouse, so long as the baby was alive and well. It was still strange
to her that this thing in her arms would someday be Queen of Trasien, let alone a person, but as Evaelien kept on
gazing into the tiny, scrunched face of the baby, she felt the inexplicable chains of love and devotion form between
them, so strong and powerful that tears often crept into her eyes.

Quelin and Hen decided that handing out a bottle of dalidenna from one of the tribes of the Western Wastes was an
unspeakable crime, Rhoe continued, taking a seat on the bed beside Evaelien and placing a calloused hand on her
arm. He grinned once at his wife, then turned back to his uncle. Despite the warmness of spring, these nights are still
cold as damned Hell! I almost froze to death after they dumped me inand despite my change of clothes, I had to
have two cups of tea before I could manage to get my teeth to stop chattering. Ill kill them both in the morning.

Orlon chuckled and jerked his chin at Evaelien, his short silver hair catching in the candlelight. Save killing for a few
years at leastyouve got a beautiful child to teach about life.

There was a faint cough from Evaeliens direction, and both men turned to look her, their brows raised. Even though
Rhoe was the son of Orlons younger brother, the two of them looked enough alike that the prince could easily had
passed for the kings real son.

Thank you, uncle Orlon, the young woman said, a bit of spark coming back into her voice. I would hope that Rhoe
would keep well away from all of his dueling and fighting and buccaneering until shes not so impressionable.

Buccaneering? Nonsense! Rhoe exclaimed, laughing. Why, Im going to have this girl able to use a sword and ride a
horse by the time shes ten!

Sword? Evaelien asked, her brows rising. Rhoe, shes a girl, not a plaything for you and Hen and Quelin to turn into
a miniature of the three of you!

Every girl should know how to fight! If Im not mistaken, you are quite able and take a good amount of pleasure in
dueling, fighting, and buccaneering!

Shes a princess!

So are you!

Its a bit different, Rhoe.

Oh? Well, lets think back, shall we, Evie?

If you, for one moment, think that she

Children, please! Orlon interrupted, raising his hands. I would have hoped that several years of marriage and the
birth of a baby would stem this incessant bickering, but it seems that my hopes were ill-founded!

Evaelien stuck out a tongue at Rhoe and then looked away, her chin high in the air. Rhoe merely rolled his eyes, and
shook his wet hair.

The girl is less than an hour oldleave her rearing for a few more days at least, the king said, sighing heavily. If
you

There was a knock on the door, and Orlon looked at Evaelien, who sat up straighter, readjusting her nightgown before
nodding her consent to her uncle in-law.

Enter, the king commanded, and the door swung open to reveal a gaggle of people, their faces eager as they peered
into the room. Rhoe, before his drunken ramblings, had given orders that only the inner members of the Royal Court,
their closest friends and family members, be allowed in after Aelins birth, and as the group of fifteen poured in, the
couple sorely regretted it.

They all flocked around the half-canopied bed, words and aws of delight issuing from their lips as they saw the
bundle in Evaeliens arms. Following behind the group came two women, both priestesses, their dark hair flowing
freely around their black gowns. They touched the tattooed crescent moons that lay at the top of their brows as they
bowed to King Orlon, but the court paid them little attention. Almost everyone was in their nightclothes, though some
who had been waiting up for the birth of the child, namely Quelin and Hen, were still wearing the clothes that they
had been seen in at the anxious and silent dinner earlier that night.

Lets see her then! Quelin said from beside Rhoe, extending his muscled arms to Evaelien. The princess stared at
him, frowning slightly.

Oh, come on, Evie! No ones going to drop her!

Evaelien, their spat forgotten, looked at Rhoe, who gave her a nod of encouragement, before handing the child to her
husband, who passed it to the dark-haired youth. Quelins brown eyes filled with pleasure as his tan face contorted to
make ridiculous cooings and nonsense words at the child.

Any sign of magick yet? Quelin asked, and every head in the room turned sharply to glare at him, but the couple
laughed.

Only if you consider the volume at which she tends to scream, Evaelien said. The room relaxed, a few chuckles
splattered across it, and the baby lay still in Quelins arms, staring up at him with what seemed to be a scowl.

Hen, standing beside him, brushed aside a lock of his blond hair, and his long nose crinkled as he smiled at the baby.
Normally quiet and reserved, Evaelien and Rhoe fought to laugh as Hen took the baby from Quelin, his long arms
holding her so tenderly that he could have passed for a mother himself. The babys face was now calm, and it blinked
a few times as it looked into the pale face of her holder. Quelin, the shorter of the pair, reached out a finger and
tickled the babe beneath the chin, and soon both men were reduced to a state of gibberish and guffawing.

Shes really beautiful, Rhoe, Quelin gasped, as if he had a large marble stuck in his throat, and the prince could only
smile as he saw the mistiness that coated his friends eyes. Hen began to pass the baby back to Evaelien, who leaned
forward eagerly, but a slender hand grabbed onto the youths shoulder.

Wait a moment! The rest of us want a look at her! a woman said, her braid of red hair hanging over her shoulder.
She wore a large nightgown that seemed to be more of a sack than a gown of any kind, and as Hen surveyed her
attire with a smirk, she stamped on his foot.

Evaelien looked doubtful again, but Rhoe nodded once more, and the princess motioned for Hen to hand the baby to
Isalina, who accepted the child with a broad smile that set off her freckled cheeks. None of them had seen the
outspoken, boyish woman ever look so, well, womanly.

Shes certainly got a lot of hair! Isalina exclaimed, looking at the blond hair that already covered much of the babys
massive head. Id say its almost a full head! I didnt know that babies could do that so soon!

Evaelien laughed. I had a full head of hair when I was born, she said lightly, her strength returning, and judging by
the amount of hair on that head of yours, I wouldnt be surprised if you did as well!

Isalina grinned, and gently touched the soft, downy hair on the babys head. But soon the young womans masculinity
caught up to her, and she awkwardly and quickly handed the baby to the woman beside her, grinning. Quelins right,
Ev, she said, tossing her braid behind her. Shes perfect.

Quelin and Hen nodded eagerly. What are you going to name her? the former asked, watching the baby be passed
down the semicircle around the bed. Rhoe turned, his hair now drying quickly, to look at his uncle, but found that the
man had risen to speak with the priestesses across the room. The line of people parted so that the couple could see
the king, who turned to them with raised eyebrows.

Evaelien, however, returned her attention to the baby, who was now being finally passed back into her arms. She
didnt like having other people, even her dearest companions, holding her childa fact that disturbed her slightly. She
would have to get used to sharing the girl with the court, she would have to come to terms with the fact that the baby
would not be hers to hold all the time.

A strange feeling passed through her, clouding her sight, and Evaelien fought to keep her arms around the child as a
vision spread out before her.

Orlon walked over to them, the priestesses in tow. Yes?

We havent named her yet, Rhoe said. He looked back at Evaelien, but his wife was lost in thought. We came up
with a few names, though now that I look at her, none of them really seem to fit.

Orlon stared at Evaelien, his silver brows knotting, and motioned for Quelin and Hen to move aside as the priestesses
approached. The two regal women stared at the mother and child before turning to each other.

Evaelien could not move.

She saw a young woman, almost her twin, standing before her on a battlement, the Crown of Orynth upon her head,
her shoulders thrown back as one arm held a mighty sword in the air. Before her stretched a dark crowdan army
perhaps?that called her name, each syllable a drumbeat against the setting sun. At her side were two menone
with dark hair cropped close to his head in the classical fashion, his face beautiful despite the worry that was etched in
it, with sapphire eyes reflecting the last rays of the sun. The other man, noa Fae, stood a step closer than the other
one, his golden-brown hair falling past his pointed ears in a graceful swoop that outlined his glowing, serene face.
Evaelien saw the golden band upon the womans free hand, but before she could see which man held its partner, she
heard her uncle call her name.

Evaelien? Orlon asked,

The priestesses opened their mouths to declare the girls name to the room, but the princess head shot up, her blue
and gold eyes burning.

Aelin, she said loudly, the color in her face returning as she spoke the name that the crowd had called to the
woman, her daughter. Her name is Aelin, she repeated, softly, her gaze now falling upon the babe once more.

The priestesses exchanged looks, but nodded their approval before departing the room, unneeded.

Aelin Ashryver Galanthynius, Rhoe whispered once the women had left, trying the name out.

A suitable name for a princessand a queen, Orlon said, taking a seat again. May she grow in strength and grace,
and may all her days be blessed as Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, or under any other name she might bear. The court
nodded and muttered its agreement.

Evaelien smiled, taking Rhoes hand in her own; and as the proud parents, king, and inner court stared upon their
future queen, each could not ignore the shiver of magick that ran down their spine. Though the priestess official
prophecy would not arrive until the following day, they allow knew and understood that what they felt, that sudden
overwhelming presence that swept through the room, was an indication of the wondrous destiny that lay ahead.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The scene faded and disappeared, and Celaena Sardothien fought to keep herself upright as colors smeared and
splattered all around her, passing by in a whirl. She saw images of the baby growing into a little girl, her golden hair
growing and falling around her shoulders. She saw a second baby, a year or so older than she, appear, his golden hair
lengthening with hers. She saw the first time the boy had his hair cut (a screaming, messy incident), and the first
time she rode a horse. She saw a patch of images that probably was her fifth or sixth birthday: the entire inner circle
gathered in her room around a large, child-sized table occupied by mostly dolls and toys, sipping tea and nibbling on
cakes and candies from dishes that were far too small for adults to use, but perfect for someone her size. She saw a
man appear not too long after that, his golden brown hair shining as he strode into the throne room, looking for a
court to serve in. She saw her mothers face, the way she clutched her throne in open-mouthed disbelief, and the way
her mother questioned the young man until he was ready to run out of the castle. But he stayed, surprised by what
the Princess of Trasien had told and asked of him, and though Aelin immediately took to the new member of the
court, it wasnt until she was eight that she was toldand only partially understoodthat this man would someday be
her husband. The world kept on spinning and rushing by, but it soon stopped at a sight that Celaena remembered
perfectly, for she now knew that this oncoming memory was her own.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Aelin Galathynius sulked in a chair, her arms crossed and her face red with anger and drying tears. She hated
Thaelius, absolutely hated him.

She hadnt meant to ruin some of the castles best dishes, and it had not been a fair punishment to miss her riding
lesson with Quelin so that she could put them all back togetherone sliver at a time. Thaelius had sat in the glass-
covered courtyard, watching her until each plate was intact, and when he asked her if she had learned her lesson, she
had become so angry that she had then deliberately levitated all one hundred plates twenty feet in the air and then let
them drop.

She had run away, screaming with delight, but her path had been a foolish one, for she managed to run right into her
father, who had heard of her misbehavior and was actually on his way to punish her himself. While her parents were
quite proud of her magickal abilities, they were not tolerant of her misusing them. She knew that she was better than
they were at magick, and it pained her to have to explain to them again and again that she sometimes just couldnt
control her magick, an explanation to which her parents would reply that if she couldnt control her magick, then she
couldnt do any of the things that a big girl could do, and that she could move back into the nursery at a moments
notice.

Aelin, from the day that she learned to walk (and therefore realize that the world had walls and locked doors), hated
the nursery. She didnt know why, but she couldnt stand being around the other babies, and she absolutely, no
nonsense, all kidding aside could not bring herself to be affectionate with any of the nurses that her parents gave her.
All that she wanted to do was to be with the royal court and her parents.

Still, Aelin found that she liked to be around other children, especially when they partook in her wild games of
adventure and eagerly listened to her stories, but she realized, with growing irritation and despair, that as she aged,
fewer and fewer of her playmates could be bothered to listen to her eccentric stories, and that they began to look at
her with strange, wary eyes.

Aedion told her that this was because she was ugly, and when she had run to her mother, demanding that she or
Thaelius teach her how to magick her face into that of a beautiful woman, the princess had simply told her that the
other children knew that Aelin was Crown Princess of Trasien, and that their parents were probably hesitant to have
their child interacting with their future queen.

From that day on, Aelin had begun to harbor a secret resentment for both her title and her fellow children, and had
taken to only spending her time with Aedion Ashryver and her family. Her parents, sensing her distress, soon had her
learning from the members of the court, teaching her everything from swordplay to reading and writing and sewing,
and though they sometimes had to hire private tutors (music lessons were a disaster), the people in her life provided
her with everything that she might need.

She loved them all dearly, and was never lonely, though at times Aedion could make a terrible playmate, and, aside
from her estranged situation with children her age, she had not a want in the world.

Uncle Orlon was always happy to have her sit with him while he held an open court, and Aelin loved the feel of the
velvet cushion that lined the wooden throne on which he placed her. She would dangle her feet over the edge,
admiring her red slippers (she had to have red shoes or else she would positively die of misery), and would drag her
fingers across the silky ridges of the armrests. It was great fun, sitting with Uncle Orlon, especially when he would ask
for her advice, a request that she was always ready for.

But, as of late, Uncle Orlon had invited her less and less to sit with him, and when she questioned him about it, he
merely patted her head and told her with a sigh that the world was becoming a much more complicated place, even
for someone as smart as she.

Aelin, still red-faced from trying to explain to her father that she had been practicing, stood up from her chair and
looked around her room. Snow was falling lightly outside her window, and the day was as gray and bleak as it had
been earlier this morning. All of her servants were in another chamber, and she could hear them bustling around and
talking to each other in merry voices.

Rhoe had banished her here after Thaelius had told him what she had done, and while she knew that she was
supposed to remain here until her father came to fetch her, she could not sit still. She turned around and stared at
the grand clock that lined the far wall of her foyer. Aedion would be done with his riding lesson, and was now playing
some sort of board game with Thaelius, Quelin, and Hen. Maybe Isalina.

She loved, loved, looooved Isalina, though she did wish that the woman would dress in a way that made her look
more princess-like than knight-like. Aelin had often tried to explain to the woman how pretty and fun dresses and
dainty shoes were, but the red-haired woman would hear none of it.

Aelin squirmed in her chair. She had been sitting here for almost two hours! Surely she hadnt been that bad!

Aelin turned from one side to the other before slowly, carefully inching her chair back from the wall that she was
facing, her ears straining themselves for any sign of an approaching servant. She pushed the chair back a little
further.

And a little further.

Aelin tipped the chair back slightly so that she could see where her guards were stationed. Through the open door to
her left, she caught a glimpse of her attendants making her large bed, too busy laughing amongst themselves to
notice the princess. Some guards they were.

It was so boring just sitting here! What fun was a wall when it was blank? It didnt even have any paintings or mirrors
on it so that she could practice her levitating skills a bit more! Her father hadnt even allowed for her to have a book!
She could have hit him in the face for that cruelty.

Aelin scooted her chair back to its original place in front of the wall, waiting a moment before standing up. No one
would notice if she were goneand she would only leave for a few minutes! She was very good at hiding, and she
knew all the best places to conceal herself in the castle. In fact, she had just mastered changing the color of her dress
the other day! She could wear pinkher favoriteor green or blue or red or purple or even ugly, useless orange if she
desired!

Aelin looked down at her sky blue dress and smiled. It was so pretty! She touched the fabric, imagining the change,
and grinned in wicked satisfaction as it turned rose pink. But a frown instantly appeared on her face. The lace that
lined her collar, sleeves, waist, and hem was pink as well!

Aelin quickly willed the dress to return to its original state, sending the smear of color that she had conjured up flying
right onto her white, sheepskin carpet. It lay there like a pile of salmon meat, and she quickly wished that she had
paid more attention when her father had taught her about vanishing things. It was just a minor stain, and would
easily come out with soap and water, but she would probably be required to sit for another hour when the maids
discovered it.

Aelin stuck out a leg from beneath her calf-length, puffy dress and shook her red-clad foot, admiring how dainty and
delicious it looked. Her white stockings, though silk, itched her, and Aelin awkwardly scratched her legs before tip-
toeing to the large wooden doors that led out into the hallway. Her golden curls, so painfully made that morning by
Marnaia, her favorite and most beloved servant, bounced as she swayed from side to side, her little fingers reaching
towards the golden handle.

She paused, listening for any signs of discovery, and then slowly and painfully turned down the handle, wincing
slightly as she heard a click faintly echo into the room. The chatter in her bedroom did not falter.

Aelin held the handle down as she opened the door wide enough for her to squeeze through, pulling her petticoats and
beloved silk frock with her. The hallway was empty.

She gently closed the door behind her, releasing the handle gingerly before bolting down the hallway, keeping close to
the wall in case anyone walked by. She was free!

Aelin reached the stairwell, and was surprised to find that the castle seemed a bit deserted. It was as if it had been
planned out just for her escape!

Nonetheless, she remained silent as she mounted the rail of a marble staircase, adjusting her skirts before she
released her grip and slid down the banister. A loud squeak issued, and Aelin grimaced and looked behind her at the
rapidly increasing floor, but found that no one was around. She used her magick to guide her to the ground, hovering
two inches in the air for a moment to adjust her skirts, bracing for the slight impact as she finally connected with the
marble floor. She was only just learning to fly, and while she could not take off from the ground, she was capable of
easing and delaying herself from falling. Thaelius told her that once she learned and understood her Fae heritage, the
powers that she inherited from her mother, that flying would be easy for her. When she asked him if he could fly, he
had shaken his head and told her, Only in my dreams, before sending her off for a well-needed bath.

Aelin ran down the hallway in front of her, smiling at servants as she passed, and turned a sharp left to rush down
another corridor that led to an open hall, sometimes used for small banquets, but now occupied by a large oak table
and her missing companions. Aelin slowed down as she approached the square room, darting to the right of the
passageway and pressing herself against the wall as she crept along its side.

She could hear Thaelius and Hen talking, and Aelin bit down on a gurgle of jealousy as she heard Aedion laugh and
say something stupid about swords. He had little time for her games and stories, and all he really cared about was
becoming as great a warrior as her father, and Thaelius, and every other male in the court. He had been ever so
excited when he had been invited on his first hunt, to which Aelin was not asked to join, and she had taken the liberty
of feeding his pony a pound of her most sugary candies the night before. Of course, Aedion had been heartbroken
when he had gone to fetch the pony and found the poor beast standing in a growing puddle of its own runny
excrement.

Aelin covered her mouth with her hand as she fought to keep from laughing.

Ah, I think that Rhoe was a bit too harsh on her, Quelin was saying. Aelin nodded her head curtly. Quelin was
always her favorite person in the whole, entire world. She would send him a pound of her favorite chocolates
tomorrow.

She deserved it, Aedion boasted, and Aelin barred her teeth. Traitor! Good for nothing, swaggering, idiotic traitor!
A little punishment would do her well.

Aelin reached the end of the hallway and immediately used her magick to turn her into the color of the tan marble,
flattening herself against the wall so hard that as she turned the corner and stood inside the room, she was little more
than a shifting flash of light caught in an afternoon snow flurry. Noticing how far out her skirts were sticking, she
summoned a small wind to push them flat against the wall, and Aelin watched with tan-colored eyes as Thaelius took
a sip from his mug and laughed before moving a piece on their board game.

Since when have you become old enough to pass judgment on your cousins punishments? Youre only two years
older.

Aedion blushed and muttered something.

Aha!

Thaelius was most certainly her favorite again. With Quelin second. And maybe Hen or Isalina third. And Aedion and
Rhoe forever placed at the bottom of the longest list!

I think shes spoiled, Aedion said, regaining his confidence as he moved a black figure on the rainbow-colored
wooden board before them. His long, blond hair hung to his shoulders, and Aelin resisted the urge to run up and
smack him in the face. Aelin looked at the matching marble floor and began to lower herself to the ground as quietly
as possible. No one at the table noticed the moving piece of wall.

If he was going to pretend to be a man, she would certainly show him!

Aelin slowly placed her hands on the ground, watching with satisfaction as even she had difficulty seeing them against
the matching colors. The marble was cold, but smooth enough for her to stretch her body out across it, belly-first, and
begin to tediously snake her way across the floor.

She looked at the large windows and reached out with invisible hands to summon more light, making it dance and
break through the glass panes so brightly that the whole room was awash with waltzing shapes. Aelin increased her
speed, shooting across the floor like a demented, curly-haired reptile with only two limbs, waiting until she was
beneath the dark safety of the table to stop the sunburst.

Aelin immediately changed her color to match the shade, her skin turning into a brownish grey as she let the color of
the floor sink back into its stone surface.

Aedions sword lay against his chair, which was placed right in front of her. Across from him sat Thaelius, his dark
brown boots crossed casually beneath the table, and at the head of the table sat Quelin, kicking idly. Aelin scooted
further away from him as he almost kicked her in the face, the rustling of her dress less than a whisper. Hen sat
beside Thaelius, still and calm, and Celaena kept an eye upon him, as it would not do to have him kick her in the
back.

Aedions small feet were placed firmly on the floor, and Aelin watched him for a moment before a wicked smile spread
across her face. She would teach him for betraying her.

Aelin silently felt her torso until she found her flower-shaped brooch, and carefully unlatched it. The darkened pin
glistened slightly in the shade. Aedion had begun to join in the conversation with the men regarding the current affairs
of the political world, injecting stupid lines like We should just send them all to prison or Why not just have King
Orlon destroy them?
He was in middle of making a particularly dumb comment about why Trasien was better off than Adarlan when Aelin
reached beneath the cushion of his chair, and gave a swift, sharp poke! through the soft material.

Aedion almost leapt out of his chair, his legs flailing, and Aelin bit down on her tongue as she fought to keep from
laughing. Aedion squirmed in his seat, and when Hen asked him if something were wrong, he merely said no, and
reassumed his stoic air.

Aelin waited a minute, suffering through awfully dull conversation, before leaning forward again and giving his bottom
an even sharper jab! through the bottom of the seat. Aedion clenched the armrests, his legs twisting in pain, but even
from below she could tell that he was fighting to keep a straight face. She was thankful that these seats were not
lined with woodbut waitin fact, it seemed as if only Aedions seat was missing its bottom. Aelin looked down at the
far end of the table, and smiled mischievously as she saw, lying on a far seat, what appeared to be the bottom of
Aedions chair.

Someone had seen her. Someone was helping her.

Hen?

No, he was too serious.

Thaelius?

He was too mad at her!

Quelin?

Perhaps.

Hope I havent missed much! a cheery voice called, and Aelin turned around, pivoting on her bottom, to see Isalina
enter the room. She took a seat beside Aedion, deliberately moving it a foot down.

Aelin grinned.

Aedion, is there something wrong? You look awfully uncomfortable!

Aedion grunted something about there being nothing the matter.

Is your seat all right? You look to be sinking in it!

Aedion again said he was fine. Aelin clamped down on her hand to keep from laughing. Isalina was her favorite from
now until forever! But how had she known what Aelin was planning to do? True, she had some royal blood in her, but
was that enough for her to actually be able to remove the bottom of the chair without anyone noticing and magickally
transport it to the other end of the table?

Aelin waited until Isalina had been dealt into the game. They resumed talking about politics, and she smiled smugly as
Isalina asked her cousin increasingly difficult questions, to which he made a fool out of himself with haughty answers.

It was when he was in the middle of a speech about Orlons greatness that Aelin stretched forth her hand and poked
him. He squirmed a bit, but did not stop his talking. She poked him again.

She was so amused by his determination to ignore the pain and impress his idols that she failed to conceal herself
more impressively when his chair pulled out and he stuck his head beneath the table. Immensely surprised, she forgot
to keep up her disguise, and as Aedions eyes grew wide with fury, she popped back into full color.

YOU! he bellowed, and Aelin let out a scream of wickedness as she crawled at top speed past Isalinas chair and
leapt to her feet, running away before Aedion could even get out of his chair. The four adults exchanged impressed
expressions before bursting into laughter, and Aelin could not stop the hysterical giggling that poured from her mouth
as she threw open the door on the far side of the room and rushed out, Aedion at her heels.
He tried to grab her as he caught up, but she turned sharply in the other direction, ducking his grasping fingers,
shrieking.

Her cries of amusement increased as she heard the string of profanities burst from his mouth, and Aelin used her
magick to speed herself back into the hall where her companions lay. They were now standing, and Aelin almost fell
from laughing while she ran in circles around Thaelius, who held his arms above his head, afraid of either intersecting
some child-induced magickal charm or of having his arm snapped in two by an infuriated youth.

Aelin quickly turned and fled back down the hallway towards the marble staircase where she had first come from,
cackling with glee as she looked behind her and saw Aedion run stupidly around Thaelius an extra time before figuring
out that she had outsmarted him.

Aelin gave him a moment, slowing down, before flying down another hallway, past the entrance hall and throne room
and out into the main courtyard of the enormous castle, the buildings of Orynth looming in front of her. Aelin almost
collided with the crowd that had suddenly appeared, lining each side of the stone road that led to the entrance of the
castle. She was so taken aback that she didnt even notice the cold winter air, or the film of snow that lined the
ground.

Trumpets were blaring and drums were beating out a quick-paced beat, and Aelin pushed her way through the crowd,
forgetting about Aedion, to see what the commotion was all about. Aedion joined her, their fight left back in the
castle, and the cousins panted, letting out large clouds of hot breath into the frigid air, desperate to regain their
composure as a large party entered through the marble pillars of the front gate. Aelin rubbed her arms with her
hands, wishing she were talented enough to summon her cloak from her room.

Each horse was black as pitch, decorated in gold and crimson fabrics, their heads held high as the first six riders led
the company, two in each row, each bearing the same flag. Behind them rode two rows of trumpeters, and behind
them followed a single row of drum-bearing musicians, their faces solemn as they played the merry tune.

In fact, it was so merry that Aelin could not help herself from dancing in place, hopping from one foot to the other,
her head bobbing up and down. She spun as the party passed by, clapping along to the melody. Several people in the
crowd looked down at the young princess and smiled, though most of them gave her cautious looks that she did not
understand. How could so many people not cheer and dance for such lively, imperial music?

There was a hand on her shoulder, and Aelin turned to see Thaelius standing behind her.

She immediately stopped dancing when she saw his face, and even Aedion seemed to be uneasy. At the center of the
company rode a massive man on the darkest and largest horse of all, dressed in gold robes and wearing a thick
golden crown upon his head.

She hated wearing her crown, as pretty as it was. It was heavy and cut into her scalp, and she didnt know how even
Uncle Orlon was able to manage keeping the Crown of Orynth upon his head for hours at a time. This mans crown,
while nowhere near as pretty as Trasiens, looked to be extremely heavy: several short, but sharp, points flowed
across its surface like waves, and in the center of each wave lay a dazzling ruby, the largest of all placed directly
above the mans brow. It was pleasant to look at, but Aelin, even from fifteen feet away, knew how impractical it was.

To his right was a smaller black horse, but seated upon it was a boy no older than herself, his dark hair and golden
skin were beautiful compared to the rough, clay-colored hue of his companions physique. As the man passed them,
he turned his head to stare at Aelin, who saw in his dark eyes none of the joy or amusement of her friends and family.
In fact, they seemed almost void of it.

She held his gaze just for a moment, her bright blue eyes staring into the black orbs that seemed to burn with hate,
before sticking out her tongue. The man blinked, but then returned his wicked gaze to the castle in front of him, not
even bothering to look up at the Opal Tower as it sparkled overhead. The boy, however, turned in his seat to look at
Aelin, who stuck out her tongue at him as well, though stopped as she felt Thaelius squeeze her arm tightly. He was
still staring at the large man, his gray eyes churning like thunderheads, his brow lowered. Aelin shifted uncomfortably
in place. She had never seen Thaelius like this.

Lets go, he said quietly over the din of the company, and guided the two children from the crowd and towards the
castle. Aelin was thankful to be out of the cold, and she frowned as she noticed the splotches of moisture on her
velvet shoes.
Thaelius nodded to the guards that had suddenly appeared at the door, and ushered the cousins inside as the
entourage began to finish its flamboyant show of wealth and honor before dismounting. There were rarely guards
stationed anywhere in the castle, and Aelin began to wring her fingers as Thaelius escorted them into the enormous
throne room.

Her family rarely used the throne room for anything save for the most serious of occasions and her uncles open court,
and every time that she had been in there, it had been mostly casual: just a few thrones on a dais and a long green
runner that led from the massive bronze doors straight to the foot of the podium. It was a massive room, made
entirely of marble and glass, shaped like a cross, with ceilings so high that Aelin had to tip her head back to the base
of her neck to see them. Five white columns lined either side of the body of the room, and behind them lay a small
walkway dotted with statues and busts of rulers long since past. In each of the two outstretched arms lay a wall of
windows, one looking out at Orynth, the other looking out at an open-air courtyard within the castle. No one really
knew what to do with these extra wings, so they had mostly been filled with extra tables, chairs, and decorative
plants.

As she walked through the bronze doors, her eyes widened with surprise. It was filled with the entire court, everyone
standing on either side of the runner, talking and milling around. She couldnt tell if they looked excited or irritated,
but she soon knew the answer when she saw her parents and her uncle seated on the dais, each wearing a crown on
their head. Orlons face was drawn taut, though he smiled as he saw Aelin and Aedion enter, and he kept his head
high, displaying the mighty crown as it was meant to be worn.

Her mother was wearing a sleeveless dark blue dress, loose and flowing like one of the faeries in her books, with two
gold brooches, each shaped like an eye, clasping and bunching the gauzy fabric at her shoulders. Long gold earrings
shaped like tassels hung from her ears, and on her shimmering head sat a small golden crown, with a single peak that
rose from the center of her brow. She had never seen her mother look so prettyand serious.

Her father looked just as imposingdressed in black and gold, he wore a crown on his head that could have matched
the man on the horses, were it not for the emeralds that dotted its surface.

All around the room, hanging from the ceilings and draped across the canopy over the dais, were banners bearing the
green and gold colors of Trasien, stags prancing and fighting and sitting and eating and doing whatever stags do
across each of them. Behind the three thrones hung the royal flag, bearing the insignia of the solitary stag, and Aelin
gulped as Thaelius began to lead her down the aisle, handing Aedion over to Quelin, who stood with Hen and Isalina
at the front of the crowd.

Her parents smiled at her, though she did not miss the worried look in Rhoes face as they motioned for Thaelius to
stand with her at the front of the crowd. As they found their place, Aelin looked at either wing to find them filled with
tables covered in food.

The room had never been this decorated and filled with people, even for her uncles seventieth birthday! Aelin looked
up at Thaelius, about to ask a question, when the sounds of trumpets began to blare, and Aelin turned, with every
other person standing, to see the company enter the throne room.

His royal highness, the King of Adarlan a page announced as the mans massive figure appeared in the doorway,
and Aelin craned her neck to see the man take a step forward, the small boy at his side.

King? That man was King of Adarlan? He looked awful!

He strode into the room, not looking or smiling at anyone, and Aelin looked at her parents, who were now standing to
greet the man. The boy kept his head high, his little gold and red chest puffed out, and Aelin fought a smile as she
saw his circlet slip and slide on his dark head.

Aelin adjusted her dress, brushing off whatever might have gathered on it, and held her breath as the king and his
son passed, stopping right in front of them to face the thrones. He bowed to her family, his large stomach hanging
over his jewel-encrusted belt.

His son followed suit, tucking his arms so neatly across his body that he looked like a little doll, but as he bowed
deeply, his crown slid from his head and crashed to the floor. Aelin giggled, ignoring the reprimanding looks of her
parents, and the prince turned a red face to look at her while picking up his crown, smiling sheepishly as he

WHACK!
Aelins eyes went wide as the kings had slammed into his sons face, sending the boy sprawling to the ground in front
of Aelin. There was a barely-contained gasp, and Aelin took a quick glance at her parents, who had taken a step
forward and were now fighting to keep their faces neutral. The boy clutched his face as he fought to rise to his feet,
and the king pointed at the right wing, silently commanding the boy to stand there. Aelins chest tightened in fear as
she saw tears well in the princes blue eyes, but he kept them from falling as he picked up his crown, and hurried to
stand by a window, far from sight.

Orlon was silent, his face grave, and as soon as the boy had made himself comfortable, he spoke.

Welcome to Orynth, my old friend, his smile was strained, but his voice was strong. You are a day early.

The King of Adarlan did not smile in response. Our journey was unexpectedly fastI hope that we are not imposing
too soon upon your famed hospitality.

Aelin leaned forward, and frowned as she saw the prince wiping his eyes, fighting to keep his crying on a mute level.
She felt guiltyif she hadnt laughed, he wouldnt have turned around

Her uncle began to speak again, but Aelin was already moving through the crowd, batting aside Thaelius hand as she
eventually reached the far end, silently walking over to the prince.

The boy didnt seem to notice her as she approached, and it wasnt until she laid a hand on his shoulder that he
removed his face from his hands and stared at her. His golden skin was now red and splotchy, and his sapphire eyes
were bright from crying.

Dont cry, she whispered, sudden compassion rushing through her.

The boy let out a defiant sniff and tossed his ebony hair. His right cheek had a terrible imprint of a hand on it, and
Aelin instinctively reached out to touch it, wincing as she felt the heat of the wound. She had never been hit before,
not even spanked for foul behavior, and she was surprised at her own anger and disbelief at the prospect of her
family, of her mother or father, hitting her for doing something so accidental.

What kind of a man was the King of Adarlan?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

On her throne beside Rhoe Galathynius, Evaelien Ashryver turned her head slightly to look at her daughter, who was
now standing with the Crown Prince of Adarlan before a massive window. Her daughter looked beautiful, as usual, but
something felt odd.

Whats your name? Evaeliens sharp ears heard Aelin ask the prince, trying to keep her voice low.

Evaeliens hands grasped her armrests.

The snow-filled clouds parted, and sunlight burst through the window before which they were standing, making their
shadows long and dark. But what she saw were not the shadows of children.

They were the shadows of adults, of a young woman and a young man, crownsthe crowns of their respective
countriesupon their heads. They stood, facing each other, and Evaeliens eyes grew wide as she saw them clasp
their hands together between their bodies, the womans head lifting to look at his, her long, flowing dress billowing
around her.

Dorian, the boy said, my name is Dorian.

The hair on Evaeliens arms stood on-end as she saw the shadow man lean down to kiss his companionnot a kiss of
friendship or of greeting, but an earth-shattering, spell-breaking, life-changing kiss of true love.

Hello, Dorian, Aelin whispered, My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

There was something in their kiss, something so passionate and loving, that even as shadows, Evaelien could see the
bond between them.
Ev? she heard Rhoe mutter out of the side of his mouth. But the princess did not remove her gaze from the
shadows.

She didnt know why, but tears began to fill her eyes as she stared at her golden-haired daughter and the woman
behind her. She felt sad, as if this future was a blessing and a curse, and as Thaelius Glorwynn approached, she
began to understand why.

When he had appeared in her court three years ago, she had almost fainted from shock; here was the man from her
vision at Aelins birth! Here was the man standing so close to her! She had immediately told him of the sight, and had
barely waited for Rhoes agreement before declaring him as Aelins betrothed. Her vision of Aelins greatness and
future husband had to be correct.

But now, now seeing the shadowed pair embrace each other, doubt began to fill her.

The shadow woman removed herself from the man, and Evaelien stared at the little prince who still stood a good foot
away from her daughter, not even touching her, an exact miniature of the man from her vision eight years ago. Her
daughter was to marry one of these menone of these men would be future King of Trasien.

Thaelius put a hand on Aelins shoulder, and Evaelien blinked several times as the vision disappeared as quickly as it
had come, returning her attention to the King of Adarlan with the terrible, sinking feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, a
mistake had been made.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Aelin sat at the great oak table in the massive ballroom, which had now turned into a dining room, and poked at her
lamb, frowning. Dorian DeHavilliard sat a few seats down from her, forbidden by his father to sit with her, and
everyone at the table was disturbingly quiet. Aelin didnt know what had been said when the King of Adarlan had
arrived in the throne room, but no one seemed to be happy.

She looked at Thaelius, who sat across from her, and then to Hen and Quelin, all of whom were barely speaking to
each other. She had never known a meal to be like this! They were supposed to be loud and laughing and talking to
her! Her mother, seated at the center of the table beside her fatherwho sat beside Orlonwas silent, lost in thought
as she stared at the table.

Aelin was disturbed to see her fathers appearance. He looked uneasy, angryas if the King of Adarlan was making
him very, very upset. Orlon seemed to be trying to calm him down, but the prince continued to glower openly at the
king. Rhoe barked a question once or twice at Quelin or Hen, who almost leapt up out of their seats before muttering
some form of agreement, and Aelin had long given up waiting for her father to ask her about something as well.
Aedion sat beside Thaelius, staring at the King of Adarlan, his face mirroring her fathers.

Something strange was going on, and she didnt understand it in the least!

Still, dinner was so boring that she could barely keep herself awake. Everything seemed to slow down as her eyelids
began to droop. She heard the King of Adarlans booming voice, saying something about joining forces to assist some
smaller countries in technological advancement. Her lamb became a foggy blur of red and brown, and a chill ran down
her spine.

The person sitting beside her, a fat man with flying moustaches that claimed to be a duke of some sort, hit her with
his elbow as he shifted in his seat, and Aelin sat up straight, blinking her eyes.

She looked at Thaelius and dropped her fork with a clatter.

Where a beautiful face should have been sat a skull, its eyes dark and hollow.

She shook her head and blinked furiously. The skull remained.

Her pulse began to quicken. She looked at Hen. A skull sat on his neck as well.

Aelin pushed back her chair, almost toppling over as she stood. Her eyes were wide with terror, and she felt the small
amount of food in her stomach rise to meet her open-mouthed, silent scream.
Aedion stood to look at her, and she grabbed her throat as she saw a skull cock its head, reaching out a bony finger to
point at her. She stepped away as Quelin and Hen stood as well, their skull heads glistening in the light. Aelin turned
and fled down the table to where her parents sat, passing by rows and rows of white skulls. She shut her eyes,
covering them with her hands as she ran, stopping before where she knew her uncle sat.

Aelin, whats wrong? it was her mother.

Her knees could barely hold her up. It was a dream, a horrible dream. Dead, she gasped. Theyre all dead.

Whos dead, Aelin? Her mothers voice was strained with worry. It sounded as if she had risen from her seat.

Aelin couldnt reply. Ice was racing up and down her arms, and she trembled violently. It wasnt real.

Aelin, look at me.

It wasnt real.

Aelin kept her eyes covered.

Aelin.

She didnt move.

Aelin, listen to your mother, her father snapped.

Aelin slowly, reluctantly, removed her hands from her eyes, her back still to the table.

Turn around, Aelin, her mother said.

Her hands shook violently as she painstakingly turned to look at her parents.

As soon as she saw the two skulls on top of their bodies, she began to scream. They were dead, her parents were
going to die.

She looked at her uncle, her screams intensifying as she saw her uncle stand, his crown still upon his white head.

Rhoe! her mothers skull cried.

Aelin put her hands on either side of her head and screamed loudly as her father began to walk around the table to
fetch her. She ran as fast as she could down the table, away from her father, and stood at the head. Aedion was
yelling something at her, his square jaw opening and closing to reveal a wide, black space.

Her father charged towards, her, but she ran around the table, standing behind the skulls of Thaelius and Hen. She
looked at the line of Adarlans men, her screaming halting. They all had only the outlines, mere shadows of skulls on
their faces, even the Crown Prince.

Restrain your child, gods above! a voice bellowed, and Aelins head turned slowly, so slowly, to face the King of
Adarlan.

Of all the people at the table, only his head remained the same.

A word began to form in the fog of her mind, a word that throbbed and repeated and made her understand with
terrifying clarity why he had come here.

She pointed a finger at the man, and her father stopped as he neared, watching her. Everyone at the table was now
either staring at her or at the King of Adarlan, their skulls gleaming under the chandeliers.

Murderer, she whispered, the word finally coming to her lips.

The King of Adarlan stood, and she saw her mother leave her seat and come towards her, her skull still upon her
shoulders.

The King of Adarlan began to yell if this was a practical joke, but Aelin ignored him, her stomach a pit of icy horror.

Murderer, she said again, louder.

He was going to kill them all.

He was going to kill her uncle and her parents and her friends.

Murderer! she cried, pointing her finger again.

Aelin! Her father yelled, and she whirled to face him, her mouth gaping at his skull.

Hes going to kill you all! she screamed, and she stepped back a few paces as Thaelius came forward.

Aelin! her mother cried.

MURDERER! she bellowed, turning back to the man and pointing. MURDERER! She pointed again and again. He
was going to kill everyone she loved. MURDERER!

The world began spinning as three skull figures converged upon her, and Aelin let out a final cry before her terror
overcame her and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She awoke in a bed far away from the Castle of Orynth to find her mother sitting beside her bed, sleeping. It was
night, and the snow was falling outside a window that revealed her location. She was in her parents estate alongside
the Florine River, a country manor that they used every couple of months for escaping palace life. Half a days journey
from Orynth, it was normally filled with their closest friends and relatives, and the sound of merrymaking could be
heard at all hours of the day.

Aelin listened to the sounds of the house, chewing on her lip. It was silent, so eerily silent.

The last thing she remembered was screaming and screaming, and as she recalled the horrific vision, she quickly
turned to look at her mother, gasping with relief as she saw that her face had returned to normal.

Evaelien Ashryver Galathynius opened her eyes, and lurched forward to grab her daughter in a tight embrace as soon
as she realized that she was awake. Aelin smelled her mothers hair, and when she was released, she stared at her
mothers worn and tired face. She had changed into pants and a large, over-sized mans shirt, and from her haggard
features, she clearly had not slept in days.

Oh, Aelin, she whispered, brushing her daughters hair out of her face. Aelins lip trembled.

How are you feeling, little bunny? Her mothers voice was so soft, so full of relief and safety that the only thing that
Aelin could do was emit a sob and throw herself into her mothers arms once more. It had been so horrible, so awful

Aelin, amidst her sobs and moans of fright, recounted the experience. Her mother had watched her with caution that
bordered on worry, saying nothing until her daughter had finished.

And thats the last thing I remember, Aelin said, her tears now drying.

Evaelien was silent for a second before speaking. You have been asleep for a full day now, Aelin. We brought you to
Florine Manor immediately after it happenedyour father has been worried sick. He thought it was his fault, Aelin, he
thought that he had punished you too harshly for breaking those dishes, and that you had entered intowell, just tell
him what happened and hell understand.

Aelin sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown. You mean, no ones mad at me?
Evaelien smiled, though Aelin could see the lie forming behind it. Of course noteveryone was too worried about you
to be mad about anything. You just had a vision, thats all. Youll learn to control them when youre older.

But, what if its

Aelin, many visions do not come true. The King of Adarlan is not exactly a pleasant man, but he is certainly not a
killer. Your magick was probably just reacting to the uneasiness that you felt towards him.

Aelin shifted around in her bed. So, no ones been killed?

Evaelien laughed. Im here still, arent I?

Aelin nodded. I suppose so. She looked down at the white blanket before her, playing with a puff of down.

Are you still afraid?

She nodded her head meekly, not daring to look at her mother.

Evaelien sighed. I remember that my childhood visions used to scare me very much, and it wasnt until someone
taught me to control them that I learned not to fear them. Though sometimes, they still scare me.

Aelins head shot up and she looked at her mother. They do?

Evaelien nodded, and began to fish out the necklace concealed in her shirt. She grasped the amulet and pulled the
delicate golden chain over her head.

Here, she said, handing it to Aelin, whose mouth had popped open in surprise. I want you to wear thisfrom now
until you learn how to control your magickal foresight.

Aelin stared at the blue, gold, and ivory amulet. Her mother never, ever took this off. In fact, she could not remember
a time when she had not seen her mother wearing it. It was the Amulet of Trasien, made by Glamasil himself.

Let me put it on you, her mother said gently, and took it from Aelins small hands before gracefully fitting it over
Aelins neck. It hung down past her chest, almost to her bellybutton, but Aelin thought it was the most beautiful thing
she had ever seen.

Your father gave this to me when we were very young, and enduring many dangerous adventures, Evaelien said
with a sad smile, and your uncle, Orlon, gave it to him as a gift before that. It has been handed down, generation
through generation, and has been worn by all of the great rulers of our family. Evaelien stroked Aelins head.

May it keep you safe through many adventures and trials of your own.

Aelin picked up the amulet, which lay cool and heavy in her hand, and smiled at it. It was a greater gift than any she
had ever received, greater than any dress or pair of red shoes or jewelry or books that her family and friends had
bestowed upon her. The blue cornelian glistened in the candlelight, and the Crown of Orynth seemed to glow in unison
with the eight pointed star. The stag in the center stared at her, paused in mid-step, and Aelin ran her thumb over his
mighty antlers.

Thank you, mama, she said in a hushed tone, as if the mere presence of the amulet required the utmost respect.

Evaelien leaned back in her chair, her sad smile increasing. Im afraid that soon you will need that amulet more than
ever.

Aelin nodded, though she did not understand, and sat back against her down pillows, holding the amulet to the light
as she examined and admired its beautiful craftsmanship.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Thunder boomed in the night sky, sending its explosive roar throughout the world like a tidal wave. Rain and wind
beat against the glass windows like a demon against the door of a place in which his evil demeanor would not permit
him to enter. Though it was the dead of winter, the temperature had warmed enough for such a storm. The air inside
the house was tinted a midnight blue, filled with such electricity that it made those beneath the roof of the house turn
over uneasily in their sleep.

There was one, however, who did not sleepone whose large eyes were clenched shut so tightly that her whole body
shook beneath the safety of layers of blankets. The monstrous battle cry of thunder racked her body and mind,
causing her to bite down on the hand of the doll that she clutched to her chest to keep from screaming aloud. Even in
the darkness of her blanket-enshrouded world, the evanescent lightning still managed to flash its stark-white fury.

Thunder crashed again, shaking the entire house. Aelin dropped her doll and grasped onto the Amulet of Trasien,
bringing it to her lips as she muttered a prayer for protection. She had awoken from a dream, practically a reliving of
the horrible encounter at dinner, and found herself in the middle of an unusual storm. There was something in the air
that was so hostile, so furious and full of malice that every flash of lightning seemed to fill the room with skulls. She
didnt know if she were dreaming or awake, but she didnt dare to find out.

Clouds whirled and churned in the night sky overhead, emitting another deafening boom.

Finally unable to control herself, Aelin burst wildly from beneath the blankets and into the hallway, her heart
mercilessly hurling itself against her chest. She flew down the wooden corridor, lightning flashing so brightly that it
momentarily stunned her. Shadows and monsters lurked everywheresome moving, some waiting for an unwary
victim to fall into their claws. The house moaned and wailed, wishing it could give into the storm that sought to
destroy it so completely.

Aelin stopped at a door she had seen thousands of times and her small hand reached out to grasp the handle. Her
fear of the storm mixing with her fear of what her parents might say when she told them that the amulet was not
working, caused her tensed muscles and heightened anxiety to burst from her like a dam.

Unwanted sobs of horror slipped from her throat as she pushed open the door, the bedroom inside momentarily
illuminated by another sheet of lightning. Two figures lay sleeping in a large canopied bed, each lying as still as death.

A window suddenly burst open, the velvet curtains rising in the wind, and Aelin let out a cry of horror before rushing
to close it, icy rain lashing at her face. Her parents did not stir. They had been so exhausted after looking after her
without rest that they had fallen asleep at sunset. Aelin latched the window, soaked, and almost slipped on the floor
as she made her way back to them.

Their bed was dark and foreboding, but Aelin climbed in, trying to remain as quiet as possible as she quieted her sobs.
Neither of her parents moved or acknowledged her presence, and she frowned as she nestled beneath the covers,
trying to ignore how wet and soggy the rain had made it. There was an odd smell in the room, musky and a bit
metallic, but she thought nothing of it as she put her head on the pillow, curled a fist around her amulet, and finally
fell asleep.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was a high-pitched scream that made her awaken, and Aelin sat up straight in her parents bed to find a servant
standing in the doorway, a hand over her heart as her pale face issued scream after scream.

Aelin blinked, wondering stupidly why her nightgown was now a reddish brown, and then looked at her sleeping
mother.

Blood was everywhere.

Aelin trembled, her eyes going wide, as she saw the long, deep slash across her mothers throat. Her head weighed a
thousand pounds as she turned her head to look at her father, finding the same mess and wound upon his body.
Blood covered the sheets, their clothes, and some of it had even dripped onto the floor.

Aelin continued to stare, the thought that they were dead still taking its time to reach her, though her body was now
shaking violently as she realized that the sogginess of the bed was not rain, but her parents blood. Her blue eyes
stared and stared and stared at the room, the servants screams of horror slowly becoming muted, and she did not
stop staring until a pair of strong hands lifted her from the bed, carrying her away from the room and down the stairs.
She did not know that that would be the last time she would lay eyes on her parents.

The day passed by, news came that King Orlon was dead, murdered in his sleep just as her parents were, but Aelin
barely heard it. She sat at the kitchen table, numbly allowing the frantic servants to scrub and clean her body with
sponges, not even acknowledging when they changed her clothes in front of the entire room and put her into a new
set of undergarments and a nightgown.

The world seemed to be moving at a fast pace, but she seemed to be stationary, her mouth slightly open as she
continued to stare at the wooden table, her limbs limp and dangling. She did not notice when a soldier came to
question her, nor did she listen when she overheard the servants wondering if she had gone mad. It did not occur to
her that she had been right, or that she knew who had caused the deaths, or that she was now Queen of Trasien.

The sun fell and night rose, revealing a clouded sky so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
Aelin allowed herself to be brought into the dining room, though she did not eat the food placed in front of her. Most
of the servants went to bed. Only Marnaia remained, urging Aelin to eat, but the girl still remained vacant.

She was waiting for sorrow to hit her, waiting for her mouth to open and begin screaming, but it refused to happen.
The Amulet of Trasien hung heavy around her neck.

The clock chimed midnight, and Marnaia stood up with a sigh, picking up Aelins untouched place. Come, Aelin, she
said softly over the racket of the grand clock, using her spare hand to pull the girl up by the arm. Aelin rose
obediently, and followed the servant through the dining room and down into the kitchen.

Marnaia stopped as she reached the foot of the stairs, and Aelin almost crashed into her. The princess blinked, the
unusual movement suddenly slowing down the world so that, for the first time since morning, she was aware of her
surroundings. She was about to go into the kitchen, and Marnaia was standing in front of her.

She was wearing a new nightgown, there was no blood to be seen, and her parents were

Aelins heart began to beat wildly, her body shaking and shivering so badly that she grasped the wall to keep from
falling.

Aelin gasped out loud, trying to keep the thought from her mind.

Marnaia, however, took no notice of the girl and walked forward, staring at something that lay beyond the kitchen
table.

Aelin grabbed at her heart, and then rushed forward to her beloved servant, about to beg for her to tell her what had
happened when she saw the body.

It was a servant, a cook, her large frame sprawled in front of the open back door, her face still wide with shock as
blood continued to pour from her cut throat. Aelin froze.

Marnaia looked at the back staircase, the one that led up to the bedrooms, her face pale and her brown eyes filled
with fear as she heard doors opening and closing.

Her parents murderer had come back.

Run, Aelin, run to the house across the river and dont stop until you get there, Marnaia whispered as the final door
on the second floor slammed shut. They heard floorboards creaking above.

Aelin didnt move. Her muscles were so tight that she could barely move her eyes to listen to the approaching
intruder.

Marnaia shoved Aelin forward, dropping her plate with a loud crash. RUN! she screamed foolishly, for the stalking
pace then turned into a run, and Aelin staggered forward, needing only a second before turning her fright into a full-
fledged flight. She leapt over the body of the cook, almost slipping on her blood, and out into the freezing night, her
slippered feet crunching on the frozen ground. Nestled in the middle of the Forest of Glamasil, the nearest house to
Florine Manor was across the river, only a mile away.
Aelin reached the line of trees that surrounded the estate, flying past the gardens and the stables, where she saw a
dark horse tied to a post. She stopped as she reached the forest entrance, looking back at her lit house. Through the
open kitchen door she could see Marnaia, pleading with a dark figure, who said nothing before slashing at her with his
sword. Marnaia let out a scream that was soon silenced as she dropped to the ground, and Aelin let out a cry as she
saw the figure step over her maids body and run out the door.

Aelin turned and ran into the forest, running so fast that she thought her legs would collapse beneath her, dodging
branches and leaping over roots and rocks as she zig-zagged between trees. She could hear a horse approaching,
galloping after her with monstrous speed.

She had to get to the bridge; she had to make it to the river.

Her nightgown ripped and tore as she charged through the brush, branches snapping and slicing her body. She was
too terrified to feel the brutal cold, too terrified to realize how much she needed oxygen.

She had to reach the house, she had to get across the river.

Aelin let out a scream of terror as the horse neared, running faster that she had ever run in her life. All magick and
power left her, and the Amulet of Trasien bounced and slammed into her chest like an anvil. Where was the court?
Where was Thaelius? Why had they not come for her?

Were they dead as well?

Aelin screamed in desperation as she landed in a patch of mud, the edge of the river not even an eighth of a mile
away. She had to get to the bridge. Her slippers came off, and her bare feet burned in pain as she struggled to get
out of the mud, using every bit of strength and determination to work her way through the puddle. The horse was
dangerously close now, and Aelin hurled herself from the icy mud when she heard a sword let out a shrill cry as it was
drawn from its sheath.

Hooves thundered towards her, and Aelin didnt even catch her breath before she bolted, not even wondering how her
assailant was getting through the lines of trees and brush.

She ran and ran, her bare feet tearing and slipping on the icy forest floor, and she bit back on the pain that was now
rushing through her.

He was going to kill her, she was going to die.

She saw her parents bodies, saw all the blood that surrounded her.

Aelin broke through the last line of trees, almost sobbing as a set of lights in the distance came into view, glimmering
from across a dark plain. She had to get to the bridge. No horse could cross it. It was made of rope and planks of
wood, meant purely for a pedestrian to reach the other side, carrying nothing but himself. The river lay thirty feet
below the sharp cliffs that bordered either side, and she could hear it churning and rushing past her, melted snow and
rain creating a series of rapids that no boat could survive.

It was so dark, so disturbingly black that she could barely make out the figure galloping behind her as she turned to
measure the distance.

She spotted what looked like a set of bridge posts outlined against the dark sky. They were bigger than she
remembered them, and oddly distorted, but she veered left, running up the bank. The horse turned and began to
charge after her, the sound of a sword swinging joining its beat.

Aelin looked over her shoulderthe horse was less than twenty feet from her.

In a last feat of strength and swiftness, she flew towards the bridge, keeping her eyes upon the house in the distance,
panting wildly.

She cried aloud as she reached the bridge, and flung herself between the bridge posts, their smoothed stumps of
wood feeling finer than any silk or velvet.
But there was no bridge to be found.

It was with terrifying clarity that she realized that the bridge had been cutor destroyed in the previous nights storm
and as she fell into the icy river, Aelin Galathynius screamed in despair.

The assassin halted his horse, peering down into the river as he heard a cry and a splash, and removed his hood. He
waited two minutes to hear signs of life, but heard none. He had suspected that, should the girl escape him again, she
would head towards this bridge; and, based on those suspicions, he had cunningly cut the ropes before heading to the
Galathynius mansion. He had been right. Sheathing his sword, the assassin turned from the river, his work finally
complete after last nights mistake, and galloped back to Orynth to join his master, who had successfully eliminated
Orlon, King of Trasien, the night before.

The water hit her like a thousand knives, and was so cold that the breath was lost from her chest. She went under, far
under, and instinctively kicked, kicked, kicked to the surface, her arms pulling at the water. She kicked and kicked
and kicked, trying to avoid acknowledging the blinding pain of the temperature, until she hit the surface, her gasp for
air lost amongst the rapids.

She tried to swim for the side of the cliffs, tried to find anything to hold onto, but the current was too strong.

But then Aelin saw a dark object hurtling itself at her, and as it collided with her, her small hands grasped onto its
surface, clinging to anything they could find to keep her afloat. Her hands were so frozen that it felt as if her fingers
were breaking as they grappled onto the rough surface, her fingernails digging into its soggy surface. It was a piece of
wood, a large log.

She clung to it with all of her remaining strength, still kicking and kicking, gasping for breath in the ice-cold water,
before the world spun, frosted, and went blacker than any night.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The first thing Aelin Galathynius felt was warmth. She was wrapped in somethingsomething soft and fluffy, her head
cushioned in

It was a bed, she was lying in a bed. Her fingers bent slightly, feeling the smooth surface, identifying it as satin. She
didnt have satin sheets on any of her beds!

The air was light, smelling slightly of baked bread and bacon, not at all like the lilac scent of Orynth or the rosemary
scent of Florine Manor. Where was she?

Aelin opened her eyes, then slammed them shut again, the bright light in the room too much already.

She felt weak and drained, as if she had been sick for weeks, and she was surprised at how sore her arms were as
she raised herself to a sitting position and slowly, carefully, opened her eyes. The bedspread was a copper-color, and
her sheets and pillows colored like cream, and the half-canopy above her bed was blue and green and brown, like a
peacocks feathers. The room was large, its slate floors covered in fur rugs, and before the domed fireplace sat two
emerald-green armchairs and an oak table. Across from the fireplace was a large armoire that matched the table, and
another table, round and standing on one leg, stood in front of the door that lay parallel to the bed. Tapestries hung
on every wall except for the one on which her bed lay, depicting hunting scenes, fair ladies dancing, and a woman
sitting amongst a menagerie of exotic animals. They were beautiful to look at, and as she looked at the wall to her left
the wall with the woman and her beastsshe saw a small doorway in the cream-painted stone wall that led to a
light-filled bathing chamber.

Where was she?

This was not Thaelius house, nor was it the house of Hen or Quelin or

Images rushed at her with sickening speed, and Aelins body went rigid. She heard the thundering pound of hooves,
the sound of a sword being drawn, the screams of Marnaia, the blood-covered bed, the screaming servants, the
feeling of falling, falling

Aelin put her hands on either side of her head, breathing so fast that the world began to spin. She felt her blood turn
hot and cold, cold and hot, as the fire in the room went out, and the tapestries blew up from their places on their wall.
The diamond-paned windows rattled, the green velvet curtains flying, and the furniture in the room started to shake,
rattling against the floor as they inched forward.

Her parents were dead, her uncle was dead, Marnaia and the cook were dead, the entire court might be dead

A lily-filled vase shook itself off of the circular table and crashed on the floor, its water turning to ice as it hit the gray
stone.

Her lips trembled, her eyes filling with tears.

She was alone, her family and friends were dead.

She was alone.

Cracks appeared in the windows, and her cut and bruised fingers grabbed onto her golden hair and pulled, her lips
curling back to reveal her barred teeth. Her chest heaved in and out, in and out.

The entire earth seemed to be caving in.

Her parents were dead, her parents were dead.

She saw her mothers face, serene, yet warm; and she heard her fathers laugh above the booming of hooves.

Why had this happened? Who did it?

Skulls waltzed around her vision, and she pinched her eyes closed, her shoulders going up and down as her frantic
breathing continued.

The drawers of the armoire burst open, clothes flying everywhere, and she whimpered.

She had been right, she had been right.

She pulled so hard on her hair that she felt pieces come out. Furniture was levitating and trembling, discarding all that
it carried, and a tapestry ripped in two.

He had murdered them allthe King of Adarlan had sent someone to kill them. He had done it, he had done it, he had
done it.

In and out, in and out, in and out, her chest wildly heaved. Behind her shut eyes, the world was a mess of red and
black.

Why? What had they ever done to him? What did he want? Was it because she had stuck out her tongue? Was it
because she had laughed at Dorian?

Everyone had been kind and respectful towards him except for her. She had been rude, she had disobeyed.

This was punishment.

He killed them and he would soon kill her. He would find her, find her and

Gods above! someone screamed, and Aelins eyes flew open to behold a red-haired man standing in her doorway.

She had never seen him before in her life.

So surprised was she that her breathing slowed, the furniture dropped and stopped its movement, and the
temperature in the room instantly rose, the ice-covered flowers turning into a puddle of water.

Aelin sat there, still in her bed, her hands clutching her hair and looked at him with damp eyes.
He wore a silver earring, his skin was tan and slightly scarred along his cheek, and his silver eyes were wide as he
surveyed the destroyed room. He was of average height and build, though he still seemed tall and imposing to her,
and he wore an emerald-green jacket with gold buttons that hung to his hips, where a ruby-studded belt wrapped
around his fit physique. His pants were black, as were his boots, and he wore a gold ring on his right had that seemed
to be engraved with a foreign-looking letter.

They stared at each other, and Aelin instantly had the feeling like this man was up to no good. Her hands suddenly
dropped to her neck, where she frantically felt for the slender chain of her amulet. A small gasp emitted from her neck
as she realized that the amulet was not there.

She had lost it.

The last gift her mother ever gave her, more precious than diamonds or dresses or dolls, as great an heirloom as the
Crown of Oyrnth.

She began to breathe quickly again.

She would die without it, she would fall into evil. She needed that amulet to stay alive.

She looked around the bed, seeing if it were hidden beneath a pillow or under the sheets. It was nowhere to be found.

It must have come off in the river, it must be lying at the bottom

How had she survived?

Aelin suddenly looked once again at the man, who now sat in a dislodged armchair, and he seemed to understand her
question.

I found you lying on the banks of the Florine a week ago. You were as close to dead as you can get without actually
dying. Your clothes are in your bathing chamber, should you need them.

His voice was deep, but smooth, and Aelin watched him warily. She knew people like him, people who were sly and
cunning and could easily get their way just by speaking well and choosing smart words. She saw through his tone
simply because it was one that she had used many times before. This man was no fool.

Aelin looked down at her clothes, surprised to find herself in a large, white nightgown, and she brushed her strands of
hair off of her lap and onto the bed. Her hands were swollen, and her arms were covered in fading cuts and bruises.

He had saved her, but did he even know who she was?

Fright began to fill herwould he tell the King of Adarlan? He was a smart man, maybe he would sell her into a slave
market for the best price that a princess could fetch, and she would go to a dirty old mans home to be his

Aelin had never been afraid of strangers, nor was she one to be shy around them, but now, with the world suddenly
so large and foreboding and full of misery and wickedness, she did not want to open her mouth. She wouldnt tell him
who she was. Shed pretend to be a peasant.

I know who you are, he said, and instantly Aelins hopes were smashed into terrified pieces. Shed rather be dead
than a slave, shed rather throw herself back into the river. She should be dead, she should be killed. It had been her
fault. She had made the king angry.

And you have nothing to fear from meI will keep you safe here.

Safe?

The word was suddenly foreign to her. There was no safety in this world, not any more at least.

You have my deepest and most heart-felt condolences about the loss of your parents and uncle. They were just and
good rulers.
The mention of her parents made her body ache with sorrow. Her eyes dropped to the bedspread.

She saw their faces pass before her, and she felt tears rise in her eyes.

They were really dead.

Why had no one come to find her? Why werent Thaelius and the others here beside her?

Her tears splashed down upon the bedspread, staining its surface, and soon a few tears turned into many.

They knew it was her fault, they knew that the king had done it and that she had been the reason why.

She heard the man approaching the bed, and take a seat at its foot.

This wasnt just a horrible nightmare.

Allow me to introduce myself, he said above her increasing sobs.

She wanted to go home; she wanted to apologize and feel safe and loved.

My name is Arobynn Hamel, he continued, though she barely heard him.

She could not stop herself from crying, she could not stop the well of grief and terror and guilt that was flowing out of
her.

It was her fault, it was her fault.

She had called him a murderer and he had done it just to get revenge.

It was her fault.

Arobynn reached out a scarred hand and touched her leg above the comforter.

Allow me to explain to you the circumstances in which you now find yourself, he said, and then Aelin Galathynius
disappeared for fifteen years.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien saw her childhood and adolescence with Arobynn pass by. She saw the first time she met Symeth,
she heard the lies that Arobynn fed her, molding and twisting her into his invention. She saw the first time she killed,
the first time she made love, the time that she told Symeth who she really was, the lies that Arobynn had fed her
about his death

Lies, lies, lies. It was all lies.

She felt as if she were standing in a circular room with spinning walls, images blurring and sweeping by. She saw
everything, every moment of corruption and manipulation.

As a child, she had believed it when he had told her that she could never go home, that if she went back to Orynth,
the entire court would die. As a child, she had obeyed him when he forced her magick to fade, to flee into a hidden
chamber filled with bad memories and fear. As a child, she had secretly hidden her clothes within a trunk, and soon
partook in clipping and collecting articles from the newspaper. It was her only act of rebellion, her only act of pure
selfishness. As her star had begun to rise, she took to collecting pieces about her created side, the assassins side, her
ego soon overcoming her clinging desperation to the past. By the time she was nineteen, she had finally learned to
lock Aelin Galathynius in that dark room, kept so far from sight and mind that any little crack in that door would result
in Celaena Sardothiens downfall.

As a child she had done all of these things, she had allowed him to tell her what she should do with her life, she had
allowed him to let the King of Adarlan take over, she had allowed him to fill her with rage and hate and lies and make
her so unstable that even her earlier memories, memories of love and joy and the people that would have died to put
her back on the throne were evil, were dangerous to her success. As a child, he had forced her to kill, forced her to
take the lives of the men that had ruined her own, and she hated to admit that she had enjoyed it.

Each time she killed, it was for what the King of Adarlan had done to her, to the world. Even as a child, she knew that
she was only partaking in the problem, she was only creating a darker world, just as Arobynn had cast out light from
her own.

As a child, she had let him do this to her, to her country.

And now, as a woman, Celaena Sardothien suddenly realized that she had to stop it. She saw what had happened with
a womans eye, with the eye of retrospect, and she suddenly understood.

The room ceased its spinning and the colorful walls faded away to reveal a wide, grassy plain underneath a
magnificent cape of stars. Blue clouds floated along the horizon, and the grass seemed to flow like waves across the
knolls and streams that dotted the landscape.

Celaena looked at those stars, remembering the night many weeks ago when she had sat beneath them, wishing to
rattle them and change their alignment.

She ran through every memory that she had just seen, again and again until they burned themselves into her mind.
She went back to the first memory, Maeves memory, and passed through time three times, watching the events
unfold again and again.

And then she threw open that door that led into that miserable room that a misguided and foolish man had built.

She threw it open and smashed down the walls, shattering every piece of restraint, every piece of terror, every chain
and every link that had kept her memories hidden away under false ruling.

Killing didnt matter now, she didnt even care about the men she had slain. As Queen of Trasien she would have
destroyed them anyway. She would have cut their heads from their bodies if they had tried to take her throne, she
would have led an army against them, she would have fought tooth and nail against them. She would have done it,
she would have done it.

Celaena raised her head to the stars which were now throbbing above her.

It was not her fault.

The thought hit her so hard that she took a step back.

It was not her fault.

She repeated it again and again, embracing it as it shook and slammed into her.

It wasnt her fault.

She remembered every moment of terror, from the moment she had awoken the morning following her parents
assassinations to the moment she had allowed Maeve to put her hands on either side of her head and force her into
this dream world.

It was not her fault.

For fifteen years, she had held this inside of her, for fifteen years she had run and run from this beast that Arobynn
and the King of Adarlan had unleashed. She had run because she had been forced to, because she had been lied to.
She had run while others stood and fought. She had run when others were enslaved.

But not anymore.

Chills ran down her body.

Maeve was right. Raonn was right.

Yes, sometimes, to do what is right, we have to do what we least wish to. Sometimes, we have to face what haunts
us in our darkest dreams, what makes our eyes go wide with terror, what makes our knees shake and our stomachs
turn over. We may not be ready, and we may not be willing, but we must do it. It is in these moments of great
courage, of great sacrifice, that the greatest realizations and changes occur.

And so it was with Celaena Sardothien.

She now understood that the King of Adarlan had not acted out of a personal grudge, but out of a long-withstanding
plan to build an empire. He had come to her city, to her home with the intention of killing. He had entered their
castle, accepted their hospitality, and spat upon it for his own greed.

She realized that perhaps her vision of their deaths had been a blessing. Without it, her mother wouldnt have given
her the Amulet of Trasien, and without the amulets good luck, she never would have survived that night in the river.

And then came the most startling realization of all, the idea that perhaps it had been good luck to find Arobynn
Hamel.

Free of his bonds of terror and fabrication, she now saw the two paths that she could have taken.

Had she been found by Thaelius, by anyone in the court, would they even have survived? Would they have returned
to Orynth, set her up on the throne, and then wake one morning to find her dead? And, despite her extreme sorrow at
the loss of her family, would she have continued to be spoiled? Would she have had the courage to stand up to the
King of Adarlan? Would she have ever met Dorian or Chaol or Galan or Maeve or Luca or Raonn or Cindrillion and
Stephaenya or Leighanna or Raal or every other person she had encountered down her road as Adarlans assassin?
Would she have fought in Peregrinno? Would she have found Goldryn? Would she have spent time training with
Maeve, learning to utilize her power and talent?

It was with growing clarity that Celaena Sardothien now understood that any road but the one she had taken would
not have been right. She would not be the person she was today, surrounded by people who cared about her, by
people who were willing to stand before a tyrant in open defiance, by people who would, like her court, die to keep
her safe.

This had been her path all along.

She was not an assassin, nor had she ever truly been one.

It was a disguise, a glamour that the Great Goddess above had given her to keep her safe, to hide under while the
world began to work itself into ruin. It had been a way to bide her time, to wait until the world was ripe for revolution,
a way to provide her with the basic tools to survive, tools that would later be used to gain her an entryway into the
very heart of the empire itself.

Arobynn had been meant to destroy her feelings of safety and security. He had been preordained to warp her into a
mentally unstable assassin, for if she had returned to the court, if she had found herself in the safety of her friends
and remaining family, she never would have learned to rely on herself, to face her fears, and to be able to cast them
away from her.

Arobynn was a demented puppeteer, it was true, but he had truly been the puppet.

She hated him for it, she could not deny herself that truth, she hated him for the years of fear and darkness he had
given her, but she now understood why things had happened.

She could now comprehend what Maeve had said, why Maeve had pushed her into this dream world so suddenly. She
had taken several steps in several directions. She had allies waiting all around her, waiting for her to see the truth
that many of them already saw. It didnt matter if she was an assassin, it didnt matter if she had killed men who
deserved to die. She was still Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, she was still Queen of Trasien.

Celaena looked down at her body, looked down at the white dress that fluttered around her ankles. Her feet were bare
and her hair was unbound, though she did wear a slender silver circlet on the crown of her head. She raised her hands
and looked at her palms, now calloused and bruised from practicing.
It was not her fault.

It was as if there was a giant vacancy within herself now, a space that had once been filled with fear and doubt and
rage, a space that contained that room built by Arobynn Hamel, and now it was quickly filling with feelings whose
origins she did not yet fully understand.

Pride, loyalty, determination, sacrifice, love, joy, anger.

It was her country, Trasien was her country.

But then another feeling entered her with deadly swiftness.

Confusion, despair, helplessness.

She did not know where to go from here, she did not know what step to take next. How would she reclaim her
country? How would she challenge a king and retrieve her crown without a war?

Raonn flashed through her mind, and a small smile appeared on her lips. This was why she had been training, this
was what Maeve had foreseen all along, and held ontothrough Celaenas moments of denial, through her moments
of rage and fear.

But still, for all of her training and support, how would she even begin a war once she returned to Adarlan? How would
she manage to spread the news that she was the rightful ruler of Trasien? How could anyone, save for her scattered
court, believe her?

Her heart felt as if it were sinking into her stomach.

There is such a thing called destiny, but it only takes you so far. You have to take the steps to make it happen. You
have to rise to your feet and do what it is you were meant to do. And without the right circumstances, without the
right friends and experiences behind you, you will never succeed.

She had all of the pieces in place, but she didnt know what to do with them.

Celaena lowered her hands and stared at the sky pleadingly.

Almost as if in response to her silent cry for help, the blue clouds swarmed together, rushing towards her in a swirling
mass. Celaena backed away as she saw a figure walk from the clouds, her long dress trailing behind her, with a crown
upon her head and a scepter in her hand. From her neck hung a waxing crescent moon, and Celaena immediately
knew who it was.

Mab, her great grandmother, sister of Maeve, Queen of the Fae.

Her body was entirely of cloud, her hair merely mist in the sky, though her face could have been flesh and bone.

From her hilltop, Celaena looked at the sprawling clouds that hung before her, and bowed her head as Mab stopped
walking and looked down upon her heir.

Aelin Galathynius, she said in a voice that rattled Celaenas bones. It was distant, yet so full of power that it made
Celaenas skin ripple with chills.

She didnt know what to say, so she merely looked upon the figure, nodding her head once.

You look like your mother, Mab said, suddenly, her voice much lighter as the clouds around her mouth parting in a
smile.

So Ive heard, Celaena said before she could properly think.

As the cloud woman laughed, it finally occurred to Celaena that she was also standing before Deaenna, Goddess of
the Hunt.
And it seems that youve inherited a bit of my spirit, Mab said as she finished laughing. Her face was now serene
and calm again, and the once-assassin could not stop from trembling slightly at the majesty before her.

My sister, Maeve, asked that I speak to you.

Celaena, again speechless, stared dumbly at the figure.

As Im sure you have already discovered by this point, your rightful path lies towards the throne of Trasien.

Celaena nodded. Iit seems as if Ive just, well she stammered. She didnt really know how to phrase ithow
could you sum up such a realization, such a life-altering moment?

I know. You should be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished in such a short period of time.

Well, to be honest, Maeve just forced me to do it, she said, the words slipping easily from her mouth.

For some reason, the womans imperious presence was lessening. She felt as if she had known Mab for years, as if
she were a dear friend with whom she was finally reuniting, the initial moment of awkwardness now over and done
with.

Mab laughed again. She tends to do that to people, she said with a chuckle. Though it seems that shes done very
well with youothers in the past have been total disasters.

Celaena smiled. I put up a good fight for a while, actually. Well, practically until now. I think I was still objecting
when she threw me into her memories.

Mab took a seat at the edge of her cloud, her sandal-clad feet dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth. And
how was the experience? she asked as she put down her scepter and took off her crown, tossing them on the ground
beside her.

Celaena shrugged, slightly taken aback that a cloud-made goddess would be sitting so casually, but spoke. At first, I
wanted to throw up, to scream, to flee and rip out my hair. I saw my birth, and I was panicking, but unable to do
anything. I didnt have eyes, I couldnt shut out the images. I was there, in the scene, as if I were justair. As hard as
I fought against it, all that I could do was watch.

Mab nodded. And then what?

And then I realized with a certain amount of despair that I was going through with this, whether I liked it or not, and
that I had better calm myself down and watch before my head imploded.

Mab laughed again. Its a pity that you and I never knew each other in life, Aelin. I believe that we would have been
very good friends.

Celaena smiled weakly, shifting from one foot to another. This was probably the strangest thing she had ever done.

And, Celaena continued, I guess that as soon as I realized that my memories would not go away, nor would they
hurt me any more than they already have, watching became easierin fact, it became like putting together a puzzle.
And, as terrified as I became as I saw the night that I fell into the river, I realized that it was my pastand that to
continue to not accept it would be foolish indeed.

Mab leaned back, propped on her elbows, and motioned for her to continue.

Once I had accepted that, once I saw Arobynn begin to corrupt me, then I began to understand, to finally piece
things together. I went back into my memories again, thrice more, to see them without fear or panic, and then I
emerged from them, to this place, to realize that perhaps this was supposed to be my path all along.

Mab clapped her hands, and Celaena stepped back, surprised.

Good! Mab said, her eyes widening. Very impressive indeed! Why, Ill wager that even my older sister will be
pleased!
Mabs face then straightened. I hope that you realize that very few people could accomplish what you have done,
with or without Maeves help.

It took me fifteen years.

Ah, for some, even a lifetime isnt enough.

Celaena was silent. She felt strange, like she had suddenly become someone else. She wondered if her sense of
humor would remain, if she would talk differently, act differently, love differently

She recalled her mothers vision, and the two shadows that she had seen. How had Maeve retrieved those memories?

Celaenas face colored slightly. Dorian DeHavilliardher husband?

She hadnt had a dream with him in ages. Did he even still think of her?

He loved her, he had told her so. He had to still think of her.

Celaena looked at Mab, at the marvelous world that she was currently in, and felt a little fire burn inside of her.

She would tell him the truth, she would tell him who she really was.

How could someone love you for being someone else?

Or was Celaena Sardothien the same as Aelin Galathynius?

What troubles you? Mab asked, sitting up and adjusting her dress.

Celaena let out a sigh and sat down on the cool grass, watching it move across the field for a moment before
speaking.

Im not sure of where to proceed from here. Ive made the separation between Aelin Galathynius and Celaena
Sardothien, Ive acknowledged that the assassin was a mask, a creation, but I dont know where exactly I fit in. I
dont know what qualities Aelin Galathynius should have, or what to take or leave from Celaena Sardothien. She
laughed bitterly. Im afraid that makes no sense.

Mab shook her head. It makes perfect sense. You dont yet know what parts of you are real and what you dont need.
Think of it like this: tonight, you changed a huge part of yourself by destroying what hounded you. You threw away
that unnecessary baggage that Celaena Sardothien bore on her shoulders. It was sudden, and probably too soon for
your liking, but you did it because you had to, because you knew that it was unnecessary. I think that, given time and
circumstance, you will soon be able to discard and retrieve certain qualities that you will deem essential to your being.
It will not happen all at once, for change, however great, is always spread out, but do not fear that you will be lost
between two identities.

Mab stood up, sliding her crown around her wrist like a bracelet and tucking her scepter unceremoniously beneath her
arm. Im afraid that my time with you is almost up, for, believe it or not, it is almost dawn in your world.

Celaena stood up quickly. I spent the day and night in Doranelle?

Mab nodded, and shook her hair. Regardless, I want you to do something for me.

Celaena signaled her agreement.

Mab raised her chin, two stars appearing through the clouds where her eyes were formed. Though you may be Queen
of Trasien, I want you to promise me that you will never forfeit who you are based on that title. You are not three
words on a piece or paper, nor are you a crown or a tower. You are Aelin Ashryver Galathynius first and foremost, and
though you may have moments of doubt, always remember that. Follow your heartyou saw the core that lies within
itfollow your heart when logic and reason fail you.
Empires may crumble and monarchies may dwindle, but who you are, what lies within that blazing soul of yours, is
something that no one can ever take away from you. It is untouchable, yours alone from now until this universe caves
in on itself, and let no one tell you otherwise.

Mab put her crown on, and raised her scepter.

You come from a great line of women, Aelin Galathynius, and while men may reap most of the glory in this world,
always remember the mighty heritage that you have inherited.

You may not know it, and you may never hear it from their lips, but your parents, Rhoe and Evaelien, are more
proud of you than you can possibly know.

Celaenas eyes dampened as the goddess smiled kindly.

Continue to make us proud, Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Trasien, was all that she said before stomping her staff.

Before Celaena could speak, the clouds exploded everywhere, blown on a wind that resembled a thousand dogs like
Fleetfoot. Celaena shut her eyes against the wind as it laughed and barked around her, and when she opened her
eyes, the sky was clear and the air filled with the smell of lilac.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien stood on the hilltop, watching the stars for some time.

She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a great precipice, as if, by taking one small step, she would tumble into
a world far greater and more dangerous than any she had never known.

As comforting as Mab had been, she still felt lost. She didnt really know what to do.

With a sigh, she began to walk down the hill, for there was nothing better to do, and before she even reached the
bottom, the grass and dirt caved in beneath her and she plunged downwards.

She barely had time to scream before she hit the bottom, the impact jarring her bones, and she stared around at the
candle-lit cave before her with disbelieving eyes.

It looked like the bedroom of a small cottage: a single wooden bed, covered in a single down pillow with a patchwork
quilt lay on the far side, and against all four of the semi-round, cave walls lay bookshelves filled with trinkets and
knick-knacks and books.

Celaena stood, massaging her sore bottom and wiping the dirt from her white dress, which, in the candlelight, was
quite pretty. It had a cobalt blue sash tied around the waist, and its sleeves were short and simple, offsetting the
scalloped neckline that swooped down to just above her breasts. On her hand sat Raal Hynters ring, and she quickly
removed and examined the circlet on her head before setting it on a small shelf to her right.

She stared around the cave, wondering what a childs bedroom was doing here, and then stopped.

A pair of red shoes lay at the foot of the bed, their velvet worn and slightly stained, with straps carefully buckled on
one side.

She walked over to the shoes and picked them up from the floor. They were smaller than her hand. She ran her
fingers over the smooth fabric, admiring the color. These were her shoes.

Celaena turned around, the shoes now clutched to her chest. This was her room.

True, it was none of the rooms that she had inhabited at any point during her life, but it was filled with the things,
filled with memories.

She walked over to the closest shelf and smiled as she saw a broken dish, barely repaired, leaning against the back.
Her fingers stroked the velvet shoes as she looked to the object beside it, a black-haired porcelain doll that looked
surprisingly like Kaltain Rompier, and smiled once more. She had loved this doll. She remembered when she had first
seen it, sitting in the window of a shop in Orynth, and she remembered the pleading, the begging, and the groveling
that had ensued as she went from one member of her family to the next, asking for someone to buy it for her. Of
course, her father had bought it, and when she had demanded that he buy her the matching wardrobe and furniture
set, he had almost thrown the doll into the river.

Celaenas heart felt like it was being tightly squeezed, producing a bittersweet juice that filled her veins.

She looked at the books that lined the shelves, all titles of faerie tales or great adventures, and her eyes widened
slightly as she saw the title of a book that would not belong in a childs room. Sunsets Passions.

She recalled the absurd romance, and the jokes that she had shared with Dorian DeHavilliard over the contents, and it
was with great surprise and delight that she beheld the ruby and pearl ring that sat displayed in an open velvet box
before the book. It was Dorians ring.

She picked it up, momentarily placing her shoes on the shelf beneath, her eyes moist, and caressed it a few times
before putting it back in its open box. She gathered her shoes to her chest once again, color rising to her face. She
looked at the glass dancer that stood on a rotating pedestal, and carefully turned it around by its extended leg,
gasping with surprise as she saw the face. It was Stephaenya.

She instinctively moved to look at the painted wooden figure beside it: a knight mounted on a charging horse, lance
raised, his face an exact replica of Lucas. In the corner lay a small birdcage, and inside sat a little doll with golden
hair, reading on her elevated perch. Smiling, Celaena set down her shoes as she reached in through the gate and
pulled the delicate doll out. Cindrillion. She leaned the doll against a stack of books, but then quickly moved it into the
arms of what looked like a waltzing Galan Ashryver. Though he was made of wood, the detail was exquisite: his
grinning face was so realistic that if the doll had blinked, she wouldnt have been surprised. His royal blue and silver
garments were painstakingly painted onto his body, and his open arms easily bended to accommodate his new
partner.

On the neighboring shelf stood another figurine, his chestnut hair flying back as he lunged with a rapier towards an
invisible enemy. It was Chaol. His green eyes were two, tiny slivers of emerald, and though his teeth were barred,
there was a loyalty and dedication in his fierceness that made her eyes mist over. Blinking furiously, Celaena picked
up her ruby-colored shoes and moved on. A few inches away a dagger, its sheath emblazoned with an S, sat
mounted on a silver frame. Symeth. For a moment, she was relieved that instead of a lifelike doll there was an object.
But that relief soon passed as she continued down the shelf.

A small spear leaned against a book, and Celaena looked up at the ceiling to fight back tears as she saw the bones
and charms that hung from it. An ivory figurine of a hunting dog lay curled in front of the weapon, its head resting on
its front paws. She might have continued to look upon the relic of her friend had the ceiling not turned out to be so
fascinating.

Embedded in its rocky dome lay hundreds, if not thousands, of jewels that were so clear and uncut that they looked
like bubbles of water. Sapphire, emerald, diamond, ruby, aquamarine, amethyst: the list went on and on. They sat
there, half-buried in the stone, glistening in the candlelight, and as Celaena stared at them, she noticed a most
extraordinary thing.

Inside of their watery depths there seemed to be moving things.

She squinted her eyes, but could see nothing.

Celaena rushed over to the bed and stood upon it, tossing her shoes on the quilted surface. Her nose almost touching
the sapphire that she chose to examine, Celaena nearly fell of the bed when she saw what lay inside.

A memory.

A real, living memory. It was tinted blue, of course, but it seemed as if a whole world existed inside of it.

She saw herself sitting in a roomher room in Renarilreading a book, a large brown blanket gathered around her.
Moments later, Dorian DeHavillaird appeared, saying something that she couldnt hear.

Celaenas mouth hung open as she moved slightly, the bed creaking beneath her, to look at the emerald that lay
beside the memory of her moontime.
She was a little girlbarely seven years oldlearning now to play Ivory Knuckles, her favorite board game. Thaelius
sat with her, her father and Hen seated across from them.

Her lip quivered lightly, but she fought back the tears that tried to rise as she raised a finger to the jewel. She
stopped when she was within a hairs breadth of its shimmering surface, watching as ripples spread from beneath her
finger. It was liquid.

She didnt touch it, she didnt darefor she knew that what would happen. She would be sucked into the memory
until it played out and released her. She wasnt afraid of it, oh no, but after having a nights worth of memories, she
didnt want to waste the experience on an already exhausted mind.

She withdrew her finger and lowered her head, looking at the rainbow that hung from her ceiling like condensation.
Each dewdrop was a memoryher memories. She hadnt lost themthey had been here all along.

Celaenas eyes were lined with silver as she stepped off the bed, grabbing her shoes once again, and regarded the
shelf she had last seen. There were two objects that she had not noticed, but as she approached them, it seemed as if
they had been there all along.

In the corner, amidst books decorated with vine motif and cryptic lettering, stood a gossamer-enshrouded doll with
violet eyes, her curly dark hair flowing around her childish face. Above her, perched on a book, sat a gold and ivory
falcon, its beak open in mid-screech. It was only when she had seen these two figures, casting a quick glance back at
the previous shelves, that she understood.

Her friends.

All of her friends were here.

Celaena looked at more objects on the shelf: a hairpin, a pair of glass slippers, a package of candy, a childs crown. It
went on and on, as if every significant memory of her life had been solidified into an object. Though memories
glistened above her head, these memoriesthese relicsthese were what she reached for in the dark of the night,
what she had refused to give up despite years of manipulation and fear.

She reached the last shelf in the room, and was surprised to feel like something was missing. The hole that she had
fallen through had disappeared, covered by rock and jewels, and Celaena turned once in place to see if she had
viewed everything. A flash of quicksilver caught her eye, and she set her shoes down on the bed before turning to
look at the final object.

It was a large silver jewelry box, placed on the shelf by her bed, and as she lifted its heavy lid, a soft, gentle tune
began to play.

It was familiar, like something she had heard a thousand times before, but she could not place it.

As she left the lid hanging on its hinges, she looked down into the black velvet-lined box, her eyes glowing.

Inside were more figures, more trinkets.

She pulled the first two out, for they seemed to be attached, and put it on the shelf before her. It was a dark horse,
and on its back sat a golden chickena

Hen and Quelin.

She grinned and reached back into the box, the melody still playing, and pulled out another horse figure, this one
mounted by a young boy bearing a sword and shield too big for him.

Aedion.

She set the boy and his horse beside the animal pair, smiling at them. Yes, this was what had been missing. This is
what had been sealed in that horrible room for so long.
The next figure she removed was a rag doll, its long, braided red hair made of coarse yarn. Her eyes were buttons
and her mouth was a few stitches, and though she was dressed in mens clothes, Celaena thought her to be charming.
She reached up and placed Isalina on the shelf above her cousin and friends, making sure she was comfortably
leaning against a book before reaching back into the jewelry box.

It was a stag.

She held it in her hand for a moment, her hand running across its ivory surface, smiling sadly before she placed
Thaelius Glorwynn on a shelf by himself. Her throat was tight, and she looked up at the jewels overhead for a moment
before returning her attention to the box.

A tiny crown came out next, its ten lances almost pricking her fingers, and Celaena lovingly set her uncle alongside
Aedion, the silver miniature glistening like a mound of fire.

She felt like cryingor laughing. She couldnt decide.

And as she pulled the next item from the jewelry box, tears of both happiness and sorrow began to slip down her
face. Maybe it was the melody playing, so sad and innocent and sweet, maybe it was the fact that Rhoe Galathynius
now sat in her hand as a shield, his cameo engraved on its golden surface. Her lips were shaking and shifting, trying
to find a proper position for themselves amidst the torrent of bittersweet emotion, and her heart was pounding so
hard that she found it difficult to breathe.

She hastily moved across the room to find a spot not occupied, but found none, so she carefully shifted a snifter to a
lower shelf before placing the shield against a wall of the shelf. She wiped her eyes on her sleeves, her shoulder
reaching upwards as she muffled the solitary sob that escaped from her throat in the white cotton. She raised her
head, sniffling once, before she reached into the box one final, last time to remove her mother.

Her lips trembled as she looked down at the Amulet of Trasien, the metal warm and soft in her hand, and as her tears
fell upon the cornelian surface, she beheld her mothers face once more.

Save for a few of her fathers features, it was like looking into a mirror.

She saw her mother reading to her, tucked into bed beside her, her voice smooth and gentle, like

Celaena stared at the music box and understood why it felt so familiar.

It sounded like her mother singing.

She stared around the cave, which was growing increasingly more bedecked in fabrics and trinkets and beads. It
seemed to be alive, to be growing and expanding, and right before her eyes, an exact copy of Raals ring appeared on
a shelf.

This wasnt her room.

It was her heart.

Celaena looked down at her mother, feeling, for the first time in fifteen years, the warmth and security that love,
friends and kindness provide. This was what had been taken from her, and this was what she simultaneously fighting
and attempting to reclaim. Her hand clamped around the amulet, her tears making small rivers and streams down her
face.

This was a prize worth more than any heirloom, worth more than jewels or gold or empires.

And so, as dawn broke out in the real world, marking her twenty-third year, Celaena realized what others took a
lifetime to finally learn: as long as you surround yourself with those whom you love and respect, and who love and
respect you in turn, you will never want for anything.

It was so simple, so extraordinarily, overwhelmingly simple.

The cave became distorted, its colors and shapes blurred as the light of the candle intensified and refracted through
her tear-blinded gaze.

She shut her eyes to clear her vision, and when she opened them, the cave was gone.

She was in Doranelle, still in the clearing where she had been before, but the light was now gray, almost pink, with
the rising sun.

Yet things looked strange. They looked smaller, shorter, as if

A cry of terror burst from her lips as she realized that she was floating six feet in the air, and at the same moment
that she was suddenly falling. Celaena shut her eyes, waiting for her legs to hit the ground and break in five places.
Wind screamed in her ears, her pulse was racing

Just hold onto that thought, Aelin! Maeve bellowed from across the clearing, and something snapped inside Celaena.
It snapped and splintered and broke and rushed out into the world with such speed and joy that her heart skipped a
beat.

Her eyes flew open, and she looked down, first surprised to see a pair of ruby-clad feet, then surprised to find herself
hovering six inches from the ground. Wind was pushing against her heels, rustling the skirts of her white dress. She
heard a voice in her head, wild and ancient, calling her name, and her mouth pulled back into a grin.

If you have ever had a single perfect moment in your life, where everything in the world was right and wonderful,
magnify that feeling by ten.

But, if you are amongst the unlucky masses who have never known a solitary moment of pure happiness, you will
never understand how it felt for Celaena Sardothien to put a hand on her hip, point to the sky, and explode upwards.

Flying is a tricky thing, almost as impossible to do as it is to describe: it requires an innate talent, plus a good balance
of wind control and power. It takes years for even the most talented of magick users to learn, and most of the time it
is so exhausting that just flying for five feet can leave one in a deep sleep for three days. The feeling of flying is
extremely similar to the feeling of being love: its reckless; so natural and yet so terrifying that each second you feel
as if you will tumble to the earth in a heap and break every single bone in your body. But for all the fear it causes, the
thrill, the pure joy and freedom that only comes from knowing how it feels to have the wind push itself between your
fingers, spreading them wide, is one of the greatest forms of ecstasy that one could ever experience.

Imagine running down a hill at top speed, your feet moving so quickly that you cant tell if youre falling or going
faster than any other human in the world. Now imagine yourself tripping, just slightly tripping, so that the whole world
seems to spread out from beneath you. Your heart leaps into your throat, your muscles tense, and you feel as light as
air. You could rise into the sky like a bird, like a cloud, and be carried off on a wind to a faraway land. Its just a
moment, just one pure moment of both terror and exhilaration, before your feet catch themselves, your heels digging
into the ground under the bidding of your mortality. Thats what flying is likethat one moment between falling and
returning to human boundaries and restrictions, that one moment when even your decaying, aging body doubts itself,
doubts the limits that were placed upon it at your conception.

Can you picture it?

Can you comprehend what it would be like to have that spine-tingling moment and then to defy it? To use the gifts
given to you to spit on your mortality, on your useless human body, and say: No, I will not touch the ground for
another moment or two.

Flying is an absolute defiance of the very laws of naturehumans were not built to fly. We have no hollow bones,
such as birds and dragons do, we have no ability to sense what is stirring in the air based on scents and sounds. We
are deaf, blind, and palate-less to the world around us. We were made to walk on land, made to live our lives staring
upwards, wishing. That wishing, more than our mortality, is our greatest punishment, the greatest cruelty of nature.

Which is why those that flythe small group in historyare the rule-breakers, the world-changers. They are the
destroyers of empires, the heralds of revolution, the ones who steadfastly meet unexpected and often unjust
hardships only to triumph.
So, you see, flying is not just a flimsy thing for faeries or fabled witches on broomsticks. Theres a science to it, but
also a fire, a passion, needed to maintain the airborne status once it is achieved. Its a feeling of wild freedom, but it
is also a feeling that requires control and understanding.

If it is still not yet clear to you how extraordinary it was that Celaena flew before even learning how to fly, know this:

Aelin Galathynius herself would only truly fly twice in her life, and this was one of those marvelous moments.

She shot up through the trees, leaving Maeve and the grove behind, the Faerie Queens mouth dangling open as she
stared. The wind roared in Celaenas ears, the dress from her dream waving around her, and as she broke through
the canopy, she let out a whoop of greeting at the morning sun.

She had never felt so free, so alive, so consumed with possibility and power.

Her magick latched onto the wind, pulling it around her to carry her weight. Her golden hair whipped around her head,
knotting itself, and Celaena Sardothien let out a cry of victory.

She bent over and shot down, making the wind push at her heels but also cushion the air in front of her, flying
horizontally across the top of the canopy. She skimmed across its emerald green surface, seeing every leaf and gold
or silver branch. There was no one in the world doing this. Of all the millions of people stuck on the ground, she was
heresoaring over the forest.

The Great Tree approached from the center of the Fae city, and as the trees cleared to reveal the massive grove in
which it lay, Celaena Sardothien commanded the wind to push her downwards. Her fingers curled against the wind as
she stretched out her arms on either side of her, righting herself as she shot towards the tree. She found feel the wind
inside her palms as if it were a real, solid thing.

The hot and cold feeling had vanished, replaced by a glowing, warm feeling similar to how it feels when you drink a
glass of warm cocoa on a cold winter day. It washed through her, filling in the gaps where darkness still lurked,
eventually forcing itself up into her throat and splitting her mouth open into another grin. She was crying, crying and
laughing and feeling so inexplicably whole and free that the world was suddenly too small.

Her arms swam in the air, not caring who saw up her dress as she zoomed past Fae houses and buildings, her mouth
still set in a grin that only pure, uncorrupted, long-awaited joy can bring.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she swept through the gardens, passing by waterfalls and plumage and eruptions of
the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen, and she circled back twice to relive the majesty. Smells assaulted her
from all sides, and she slowed her speed, calming the wind around her to look at a particular rose bush, but then
speed up againas her organs and insides suddenly felt as if they would fall from her dangling body.

Though it was dawn, several Fae were walking about, and as Celaena passed them, she flipped onto her back to wave
to them. They stopped in their tracks, staring at her with rude disbelief, and Celaena laughed as she rolled back onto
her stomach and flew down a pathway, close to the canopy. She darted in and out of branches, narrowly avoiding
decapitating herself, and her pulse burned as she pushed the limits of the wind, commanding it to move her faster,
more nimbly than it had ever carried itself.

She was flyingflying!

Her whole life was streaming behind her in a blur of colorit didnt matter that she had been an assassin. She had
killed men who deserved it, men that she would have killed anyway. It had been a disguise, a way for Aelin
Galathynius to survivethere was no need to fear her memories. No need to fear Arobynn. No need to fear the people
who had loved her and the people who still did. There was no need to fear a tyrant sitting on a throne, making orders
to destroy her country, her world.

She was Celaena SardothienAelin Galathyniusand she didnt give a damn about it.

The air seemed to push everything out of her, all of her doubts, all of the moments of darkness. It tingled her scalp,
caressed her face, whispered words of love and mischief into her ear.

She couldnt stop crying, she couldnt stop feeling the explosive joy that continued to erupt within her, rocking her
body in waves. The velvet of her crimson shoes glistened for a moment.
This was what she was fighting for.

Everyone should be able to experience this.

She turned right, reaching a small grove of bluebells and spun like a top, commanding the flowers to rise around her
in a blue cyclone. She laughed aloud as blue and white and green rushed around her, petals twisting themselves into
her hair.

She had no fear, no hate.

She broke through her room of cobalt blue in an explosion of petals, shooting out of the glen.

How could she have denied that this existed? How could she have let this escape from her?

She reached a pond and raised herself, an exclamation of delight issuing from her lips as she danced across the water
in a waltz, her velvet shoes dampening as she stood upon the surface, willing the wind to harden beneath her feet and
guide her balance. Her outstretched arms held an imaginary partner, and she dipped and twirled, looking at the fish
rising to the surface out of curiosity.

Before their gold and black heads could break the water, she darted away, grabbing vines and thin branches to flip
and propel her through the air like a jungle creature. Her torso contracted and expanded as she soared, laughing
wildly as she intercepted another branch and swung from it, sending her body vaulting forward across the forest.

Had she had these powers available to her before this, she would have been the greatest assassin in the world!

A wide plain opened up before her, its spring grasses rolling like waves. The end of Fae territory.

She heard the feral voice in her head once more, and stopped herself mid-swing. She hovered for a moment, staring
once at the leaf-covered ground fifteen feet below, and then grinned wickedly before shooting out across the field.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was almost two hours later when she arrived back in Maeves clearing, dropping in through the top of the canopy in
a ray of early morning sunshine.

The Queen and her nephew, Prince Raonn Whitethorn, were standing at the foot of the dais, the silver-haired Fae
gaping at Celaena Sardothien in a mix of disbelief and pride. As she dropped to the ground, easing the wind around
her feet, she hid her surprise when she discovered that his gray eyes were moist. His chest was heaving in an out,
and be began blinking furiously as Celaena landed on the soft ground, her knees buckling slightly against the sudden
weight of her body.

She felt thick, and clumsy, and the world seemed tattered and faded at the edges. She was staring down at her
shoes, now stained with grass and water and other bits of natures refuse, and she took a deep breath as she adjusted
to the shackles that gravity had clamped back on her.

The shimmering warmth inside of her had disappeared with the wind, but inside now lay a burning mounda
mountain of a thing, so laden with determination and obligation that it spilled out into the molten gold rivers in her
eyes.

This was her road.

Aelin Galathynius slowly raised her head, her shoulders pushing back and down to straighten herself as she extended
her neck to behold the two Fae with the queenly grace and power that had been instilled in her blood long ago. She
stared at them, the wind still caught in her flowing hair, and felt her eyes dampen as she saw that Raonn was crying.

His teeth were barred in either a smile or an attempt to master his trembling features, and silver tears slipped down
his face like lightning from his storm-cloud eyes. His shoulders went up and down, his posture erect, and even though
she was still ten feet away, she could hear his ragged breathing.

Her brows contracted, as if she was about to speak, but Raonn stopped her.
He dropped down to one knee, his white robes shining around him, and bowed his head, keeping his steaming eyes
upon her.

The morning sun bounced off of the back of her golden head in a halo, and Celaena put a hand to her throat as she
stared upon Raonn. She did not know how to react to his tears of pride, she did not know what to say or do to the
kneeling prince before her. Remembering her family, remembering the many times she had sat with her Uncle Orlon,
she simply did what they had done, though her heart and eyes revealed the bursting gratitude and love she felt for
her two companions.

She nodded her head slowly, unused to feeling so regal, dropping her hand back to her side.

They had seen her through thisthey had made this happen. They were not human, they were merely distantly
related to her, but they had stayed with her, fought against her every word of denial, just in the hope, just because of
the distant, almost impossible chance that she would reawaken to her magick, that she would accept her past and
become the Queen she was born to be.

And as Raonn rose to his feet, wiping his eyes on his hand, Celaena began crying anew, realizing that the dreams that
these two Fae had held for her, had fought for, were the dreams of many. They were the dreams of Galan Ashryver
and Raal Hynter, of Aedion Ashryver and Tiryn Doval and Thaelius Glorwynn. They were the dreams of all those that
bore Raals ring, of all those that defied Adarlan with every breath in their body.

Celaena turned her gaze to the Fae Queen, who stood, unmoving, at the foot of her throne. Her crown of stars burned
brighter than they ever had before, and Celaena even detected a faint hint of blush along her large cheekbones.
Maeves violet eyes were filled with pride, with relief, with joyso much, in fact, that the galaxies and universes inside
of them seemed to be waltzing with each other.

Celaena wiped her tears away, straightening herself once again, and took a step forward.

I can fly, she said, her voice strained, yet full of power, I can fight, her blue eyes glowed, the gold flashing a bit of
ruby in the sunlight, teach me what else I need to learn.

Raonn approached her side, grinning, his face now clear and dry. Celaenas heart pounded with rapid speed, still
remembering the sharp wind within her veins.

But Maeve merely nodded, a tiny smile on her face, before sitting down on her throne.

As it is your twenty-third birthday, Maeve said, I think that giving Trasien notification that you are still alive would
be the perfect thing to do.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The gray waters of dawn rushed beneath the East Wind, a gold smear spreading across the oceans surface as the sun
began its ascent over the continent of Adarlan. The wind rushed with the light, flying faster than he had ever flown
before, for on his back he carried the tingling power that he had been chosen to distribute across the land as swiftly
as he could. He had been awoken at dawn in Wendlyn to the most curious feeling. Someone had asked himno,
someone had commandeered him to carry over this message, this bit of power.

It was old magick, and if he had guessed correctly, it was from the time of his father, the first East Wind that ever
swept across the Great Ocean and back. In fact, he had felt his father within it, felt a pact, and had not objected when
his morning routine had been interrupted for the sake of carrying out the task required of him. His father had been a
good companion of the ancient Fae King, Glamasil Galathynius, and the East Wind knew that many a pact had been
made between the two of them.

He had seen her for a moment, just a split moment as he had passed over the Fae realm of Doranelle, flitting and
flicking through the trees with her golden hair. She was the one who had sent him across the ocean, though she
probably didnt know it. Humans and the Wind Tribe did not associate anymore, not for several centuries now, and
even the Fae had stopped many of their interactions. They were barely ever summoned by Maeve, and the West and
North Winds usually hogged all of her time with their blustering and billowing complaints.
From what he had seen of the young Queen of Trasien, he had liked her. Any human who could fly for more than a
few seconds had to be someone interesting, and anyone that could make one of the North Winds many sons listen to
and obey her every whim was someone to be reckoned with.

He knew that everyone in Adarlan believed her to be dead, and despite what the West Wind had boasted about his
own search for her and eventual conclusion that she had died, the East Wind and all of his family had never believed
the gossip. No one from the House of Galathynius would ever be done in by an icy river.

How the West Wind would bluster when he found out that the Queen of Trasien lived! She had been alive right under
his nose! Or so he had overheard one of the Fae saying. Yes, she had lived in Adarlan for fifteen years, and now she
had returned to Wendlyn to train with the Fae Queen to prepare herself to destroy the empire that was ravaging
Adarlans continent.

She looked so young, so fragilehow could any mortal, a flier or no, stand up to the armies that he had spent so
much time observing?

The East Wind reached around and touched the magick that sat upon his muscled back, his blue, translucent skin
rippling as he felt a trace of his father and of the dead Fae King. He touched the surface of the glistening mass,
tracing over the ancient scripture that lay etched upon it, reading.

The ocean began to lighten beneath him, but the East Wind took no heed as he worked through the aged writing. He
reached the end of the magick, and smiled, his white eyes lowering beneath his dark blue brows. That was how she
would stand against Adarlans empire.

The East Wind sped up as he felt the first rays of sun warm his toes, letting out a howl of determination when the
estuary of the River Venar loomed before him. He lowered himself below the cloud line, expanding himself like a net
to encompass the citys breath, and swept through Renaril, the rooms of the glass castle shaking slightly as he
passed.

He did not stop to see who reacted and who didnt, for the sun was now riding upon his toes, and so the East Wind
raced onwards across the continent, knowing that he had thousands of miles to go before his task was complete.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Aedion Ashryver raced down the halls of the glass palace, his skin burning with chills, his eyes wide with excitement.

It couldnt be.

He had awoken a minute before to a feeling that was more than a passing chill, the wind rushing in his ears for a split
second before disappearing through the walls. Since then, the hair on his arms had been standing up, his skin tingling
so badly that it almost burned.

It had taken him a few seconds to understand, and then a few more seconds to throw on a pair of under-shorts before
flying from his chambers to confirm his suspicions.

The marble floors were hard and cold against his bare feet, but he ignored him as he turned down a hall, slamming
into the far wall before pushing against it to regain his momentum to go onwards.

He skidded to a halt in front of an oak door, not even knocking before bursting into the chambers of Tiryn Doval,
Minister of Trasien. He found the man standing in a dressing robe, staring out of his floor-to-ceiling glass window at
the rising sun.

The old man turned to look at Aedion as he slammed the door behind him, raising his eyebrows. Aedion panted, his
eyes wild and his mouth gaping open, and he held out one of his arms for Tiryn to see.

Please tell me I havent just come down with the flu, the general pleaded, rushing up to the old man. Tiryn smiled,
his wrinkled face becoming even more so, and then pulled back the sleeves of his green robe to reveal an arm
covered in goose bumps.

Id say either we both ate something foul last night, or our little Aelin has finally decided to say hello. Tiryn laughed,
though his eyes were bright with suppressed tears.
Aedions world spun for a second, and he put a hand in his long blonde hair, grasping it for support. So shesshes
really he choked on the words, suddenly feeling like laughing for joy.

Shes alive, and well. Tiryn watched Aedion cautiously.

But why now? Why today? Aedion gasped, and dropped onto the mans canopied bed. It was so soonalmost too
soon. How had she accomplished this?

Tiryn chuckled and pointed to the open diary that lay on his desk. What better day to make your royal court
remember who you are than your birthday?

Aedions head snapped up. Her birthday? What was the date? He knew that her birthday was in the middle of spring,
but how had he forgotten the exact date?

Her twenty-third birthday to be exact, Tiryn nodded. You wouldnt have happened to have bought her a present,
would you? Because I forgot, and if she comes asking for them, perhaps we could

But Aedion wasnt listening.

She was an assassin, Adarlans assassin to be exact. He hadnt expected her tohe hadnt known that she would

You found her, Aedion said, shaking his head as his eyes filled with tears, you really found her, you damned old
fool.

Tiryn chuckled again. Yes, well, lets hope that she decided to remind everyone that shes alive, for Im afraid that an
army of three to fifteen people wont be very useful against an army of close to a million.

She wasnt an assassin.

No assassin could ignite an old Galathynius spell to summon her court.

No, something had happened, something had happened that Tiryn had been waiting for, that he had expected.

Aedion Ashryver began to laugh loudly with joy as he looked at the old man and finally understood what the tingling
meant.

His queen was coming home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard turned over in his sleep, pulling his blankets tight around him as chills raced down his body. Why
was it so cold in his room?

He groaned as he opened an eye and saw the first light of dawn breaking in through his curtains. The fire was still
burning in his fireplace, and the room actually didnt feel cold.

Dorian looked down at his bare chest and arms, his brows knitting in confusion at the bumpy skin he saw. Why was
he covered in chills?

He raised a hand to his forehead, but found no fever. He pushed on his stomach, but found no pain, save for a
bladder filled with wine from last nights dinner. He had been dining with his parentsand Nicolle DeLemansconfor
the past several nights, after spending his days catching up with old advisors and friends. Most of it was boring, but
he had to admit that his mood greatly improved after his father had commented on how pleasant it was to see him
acting normal once again.

It wasnt very difficult to get back into the swing of things, and though he refrained from bedding women, he did have
a relatively good time with Nicolle. She wasnt as stupid as the women in the court, she didnt seem to be afraid of his
father, and she was certainly good to look at. Being normal wasnt nearly as bad as he thought it would be.
Dorian reached down the side of his bed and scooped up his white shirt from where he had dropped it the night
before, shivering a few times. He pulled it over his head and rubbed his prickling arms before nestling back down
beneath the comforter and trying to sleep once again.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The water bucked groaned and clanked against the side of the well, the wheel squeaking unpleasantly as Isalina
Fenburn pulled angrily at the harsh rope. It was cold outside, the gray light of dawn finally softening to a pinkish
yellow, and she let out a loud yawn as she looked at the Staghorn Mountains of Northern Trasien. They were still
purple, their sharp peaks living up to their namesake, piercing the gray sky with odd clarity. Normally, they were
surrounded in mist, but today the morning fog seemed to have cleared hours ago.

Her shoulders ached as she finally removed the bucket, pulling it hastily to the side and resting it on the edge. Though
frost lined the wood, Isalina reached into it with cupped hands and splashed the icy water upon her freckled face. She
bit against the cold, grimacing, but then wiped it dry on her white apron.

Pouring the rest of the bucket into the large ceramic jug she had brought with her, Isalina scooped up her quarry and
headed back towards the small cottage that she had been sharing with her husband, Quelin, and their companion,
Hen, for the past fourteen years. Though they had a fair amount of gold in the bank, not to mention Hens estate in
South Trasien, they had fled here, to the foot of the mountains, to live as farmers after the death of the royal family.
They knew that the banks were corruptif any of them tried to remove money, the King of Adarlan would be notified
immediately; and they knew that Hens house was now occupied by pompous, blubbering royals from Adarlan.

Farming was hard, especially when you only had three people trying to survive, and though the earth of Trasien was
still rich, none of the former court members had had an easy time adjusting to country life. In fact, they had barely
survived the first five years, and had considered moving to the town in which most of the remaining court members
made their home, but word had come that Aedion had been taken by the king for use in his army. They had
threatened the boy with murdering the rest of the court, and though the three companions were outraged that yet
another child had been taken from their royal house, they did not wish to join those under the eye of Adarlan.

Isalina sighed and looked towards the southwest. She was nearing forty now, with no children of her down despite
how she and Quelin had tried, and despair was now beginning to creep in where defiance and denial had once slept.
How would it end for them?

Isalina was thirty feet from the house when something hit her that made her hands drop the jug, shattering it at her
feet. She saw a wind rush past her, rustling her skirts, and she could have sworn that she heard laughter as it swept
through their carefully plowed soil and vaulted over the Staghorn Mountains.

Chills were racing down her arms, rippling and burning so badly that all Isalina could do was stare at the ruined jug
before her.

It couldnt beno, not after fifteen years.

Isalina began to tremble, her vision blurring with hot tears as she waited for the tingling to subside.

It didnt.

It kept on burning and burning, exploding from her veins themselves to remind her of an oath of loyalty she had
sworn to the Galathynius family long ago.

There was a whooping cry from inside the house following a crashing noise, and Isalinas head shot up as she saw the
front door fly open to reveal an ecstatic Quelin. He careened towards her, his graying brown hair bouncing around his
glowing face. Hen was following close behind, and as Quelin tackled his wife, wrapping her in a tight embrace, Isalina
saw the blonde-haired man laughingand cryingwith joy.

I knew it! Quelin was bellowing, and he released Isalina to grab his face between his hands and laugh wildly. I
knew that she was alive! I knew it all this time!

Isalinas mouth was hanging open, her mind running the thought over in her mind again and again.

Alive.
Aelin Galathynius, their queen, was alive. Somewhere in Orynth there was an empty, useless coffin that could now be
removed from beside the three sarcophaguses of her parents and uncle.

Alive.

Isalina stared at the two men, who were now laughing, dancing, and crying, grasping each others arms for support.
Isalina looked down at the chills on her forearm and then back at her companions.

How had she survived? Where was she?

Was it a mistake? It couldnt beonly a Galathyniusonly the rightful, living heir to the throne could summon that
spell. There wasnt anyone elseit couldnt be a mistake, if only because today waswas

The tiny wrinkles beneath her eyes grew deeper as her face contracted.

Quelin, she said, her voice trembling so badly that the two men stopped to look at her. Tears began to pour from
her face as a sob escaped from her throat. Isalina began to smile, her heart so full that it could burst. Were going
home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

As dawn broke out across the continent of Adarlan, so it was in every householdin every heart still loyal to the
Galathynius family. Whether they had sworn a verbal oath or a silent one, even if they had sworn their loyalty to the
same woman but under a different name, the East Wind swept past them, releasing the magick that would notify
them of their queens presence.

He passed across fields and mountains, valleys and volcanoes, across plains of ice and plains of rolling sand, through
forests and jungles teeming with awakening life, up cliffs and down into the crashing, violent sea, until each corner of
the continent had been covered with the spell of Glamasil Galthynius.

Heads turned, eyes brimmed with tears, and cries of joy, of defiance, of wonder could be heard from the houses of
those who understood what their bodies were saying. For those that did not understand the tingling sensation, they
merely shivered, though secretly harboring the belief that something unusual might be happening.

But the Royal Court of Trasien, scattered and divided, with a good portion of them dead, did not dwell long on the
unbridled happiness that was now filling their hearts. Their queen was coming home at long last to reclaim her throne,
and they had work to do.

It only took Quelin, Hen, and Isalina half an hour to pack their belongings and head out from their miserable cottage
on horseback to find their estranged companions. For others, it varied: some spent hours trying to figure out if the
magick was real, some didnt even bother to pack anything but gold and an extra set of clothes before saddling their
horses and leaving for the place that had been designated for a meeting ground in case this kind of situation ever
arose.

So they rode out, down every road that led to the chosen estate outside of Orynth, feeling as if fifteen years had just
been a day, a mere storm compared to the golden years that might possibly lay ahead. They were old and young,
some of them had never even laid eyes upon Aelin Galathynius or had been too young to remember, and as Trasien
awoke to the sound of galloping horses, the most incredible event began to happen.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The peddler pushed his cart across the cobblestones of Orynth, his back aching with the weight of his wares. Pots and
pants and other items clanked against themselves, and he grunted as he pulled his cart to a stop at a corner to allow
a large cart filled with fresh vegetables to pass by on its way to market.

He had been unsuccessfully selling his goods in Orynth for four days now, and was disappointed at the increasing
poverty he found within the city. Granted, there had always been poor and sick people when Orlon had lived, but
since the King of Adarlan had ascended to the throne of Trasien, the numbers had exponentially increased. Many
people now made their goods at home, rather than pay the outrageous costs that the peddler found himself asking for
a simple cooking pot or dish.
He had never been a man to overcharge people, save for the occasional nitwit, and it pained him to see citizens
digging through empty pockets for extra coins, and then smile grimly at him before shaking their heads and walking
away.

The wealthy, by shutting down small, independent businesses with their hordes of slaves that provided products in
bulk for free, had created a bottleneck between themselves and the once-prosperous middle-class, who were now
barely more than the poverty-stricken peasants and commoners (who, in turn, were little more than slaves). All of the
money fed directly into the coin purses of the upper class, and whatever was left over wasnt nearly enough to spread
around.

He had heard stories, awful gossip, about peasants willingly going to places like Endovier or Callacula, the miserable
glass mine and factory in Eyputiusunn, instead of sitting at home and starving. But what was worse were the rumors
that soldiers, henchmen from Adarlans army, often broke into homesany home, in any townand took people,
entire families, away to work at the bidding of the king. It didnt matter if they had once been wealthy merchants, or
if they were simple farmers or bakers or dress makers, the soldiers grabbed them and put them in shackles and sent
them to work and die in anonymous slavery.

The peddler shuddered as he continued to push his cart, calling out to the passing people in the faint light of morning.
The air was dark, as if it were filled with shadow, and the peddler watched as flocks of people on their way to work
pulled their coats tightly around them, keeping their eyes to the ground.

Orynth, once greater than Renaril, had fallen into ruin.

The peddler took a deep breath as he pushed his wooden cart into the busy square, narrowly avoiding the other
merchants, preparing for his last day of selling in this city. He did not know anything about history, nor did he know
much about politics, but he could not imagine that an empire with only two or three prosperous cities, all closely
located to each other, could function. In fact, it was absurd to think that someone could conquer a continent and let it
fall to pieces the way it had.

The peddler looked up at the Opal Tower, and suddenly released the handles of his cart.

His jaw popped open, his eyes grew wide, and he did not hear the angry shouts when his cart rattled through the
sloping square and crashed into a stall filled with chickens.

He had seen itjust then, just for a split second.

A flash of color across the dark surface. Green.

And then another onethis time pink.

It had happened so fast that he had thought it wasnt real. But they he had seen another one, all in the span of two
seconds, whip across the black opal, this time yellow.

The peddler removed his dirty cap, and those that stood around him paused to see what his shocked face regarded.
The violent shouts stopped as the farmer raised his head and saw blue, green, and red slice across the dark surface,
and a whispering hush spread across the city as the Opal Tower began to wake up.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien stared at Maeve, who was now standing. It was midmorning, though with the distance between
the two continents, dawn had just broken out across Adarlan.

She had forgotten her birthday entirelyand while some vain part of her was terrified that she was already twenty-
three, she could not help but smile at the change in surroundings that a year had brought.

So it seems that you accidentally ignited the spell without even knowing what you were doing, Maeve said coolly.

I dont really understand how it works, Celaena admitted, looking to Raonn, who was now sitting on the steps at
Maeves feet. The prince shrugged, suddenly aloof once again, and Celaena turned to Maeve. She felt strange, as if
there was a river of light and warmth running through her, throbbing, begging to be used again.
She knew that it was her magick, and though she was not afraid of it, it still felt foreign, as if it were only a temporary
guest. She didnt really know what to say or do to make it work, though she knew that if she tried, it would react.
Celaena was not worried about it, but she acknowledged that it would take some time before she could get used to its
presence once more.

I suppose that your magick was so relieved to be used and recognized once more that it automatically summoned
the East Wind to carry out its message.

Celaena shook her head. No, I understand that, but I dont understand what it did.

Maeve took a step down from the podium, and took a seat beside Raonn on the stairs. The prince, surprised, almost
leapt from his seat, and Celaena bit down on a grin of amusement as he resettled himself.

Your ancestor, Glamasil, made a spell, a compact with the father of the current East Wind, that, once a ruler of
Trasienthe heir to the thronewas due to ascend, or rather, accepted their duty to ascend, that the wind would
carry a spell across the world that would tell every heart loyal to that ruler that he or she was ready to take the
throne. Its a summons, old and powerful, that results in a set of chills that dont go away for hours.

Maeve extended her pale arm. You see, she said, gesturing at her prickling skin, Ive been like this since you
decided to fly around this morning. The queen nodded at Raonn. As has he, believe it or not, she said with a wry
smile.

But you two

The oath applies to all those who have ever made a vow of loyalty to you, not just Trasien. It doesnt have to be
spoken or formal, just a pure, unclouded pact of dedication. Maeves eyes sparkled. So your friends in Renaril may
find themselves quite cold and uncomfortable this morning, and immediately send for a doctor, as you call them. She
paused. As will your friends at the chateau, I suppose, but they will probably think that a faerie bewitched them,
rather than a king who died thousands and thousands of years ago.

Celaena opened her mouth to speak, but Maeve interrupted her again.

I suspect that Galan Ashryver and Raal Hynter and his brothers will be extremely excited to awaken to Glamasils
spell. One or two of them might actually come looking for you.

Celaena stared at the Faerie Queen, still slightly unable to believe that she had cast a spell that would touch all
corners of the earth, as well as countless numbers of people. Would Dorian, with his magick, be stupid enough to call
for a doctor? Or would he understand itsomehow?

What would he think if he knew? Would he still love her?

Celaenas face darkened slightly.

He would, wouldnt he? If he loved her, nothing she could say, nothing she could do, could change that.

Right?

Aelin? Maeve asked quietly, and Celaena sharply looked at Raonn.

She would tell him, shed tell Dorian who she was. Shed tell him the next time they had a dream together. And if he
couldnt accept it, if he couldnt still love her, then it

Then it never really was love in the first place.

I she began, and then closed her eyes, shaking her head.

I suppose that Ive done my task then, she said quickly, opening her eyes.

Maeve raised an eyebrow. Done?

Celaena felt the river inside of her rush a little faster.

Why, Aelin, weve only just begun.

Celaena bit her lip. I

Before I teach you anything, one task still remains for you today.

Celaena smiled weakly, and found Raonn gazing at her beneath lowered brows.

Maeve stood up and pointed to the West.

Thousands of miles away, a tower lies in wait for you.

Celaenas heart began to wildly beat again, and she could not ignore the cascading excitement that her magick
brought to her nerves.

The Opal Tower, Celaena said softly, turning to look where Maeve had pointed.

Yes, Maeve said, her voice filled with barely-contained anticipation. The Opal Tower. She hesitated, then
continued. And what can you tell me about the Opal Tower?

Celaena watched the forest as if her gaze could pierce through miles of trees and ocean and into Orynth itself if she
stared long enough.

It only glows when the ruler of Trasien is alive and on the throne, Celaena said weakly, like a child being questioned
by a parent and trying to escape punishment.

Maeve walked towards her and Celaena turned her head to look at the Faerie Queen.

Close your eyes, Aelin.

Celaena obediently closed them, her hands anxiously wringing themselves. She knew what was going to happen, she
knew what Maeve wanted her to do.

Could she even do it?

If you can fly, you most certainly can do anything else!

Celaena felt the stream of magick inside of her begin to pulse.

You are the heir of Trasien. This is your path. This is your course. Every step you have taken, through darkness,
through death, has lead to this road.

Her fingers stopped hurting themselves, and she felt them begin to warm as the magick in her blood roused itself
once again.

She could smell the Faerie Queens flower-like scent; she could hear the rustling of her magnificent robes.

I want you to picture the Opal Tower, Aelin, Maeve commanded.

Celaena reined in her magick as she felt it try to escape, a carpet of flowers bursting from the ground around her as a
result.

This is your road.

She imagined the tower, its smooth white marble, the delicate balcony, the bud of white and color that sat on top,
sparkling in the daylight. She recalled the inside, the throne beneath the great statue of the Goddess, the Pool of
Tears that sat in the center, its dark water smooth as glass. She remembered standing on the balcony, trying to catch
her breath, and staring up at the opal, looking at its shimmering white surface, at the deep lines of color that
magickally appeared out of nowhere. She remembered the last time she had seen it, dark and dead, sitting atop a
rain-dirtied spire, as miserable as the city around it.

Can you picture it, Aelin? Maeve asked, her voice coming from far away.

Celaena found the image to be so real, so lifelike, that she could have reached out and touched it.

Yes, she said quietly. Her powers were pumping in her body, wrapping themselves around the memory in her mind.

Good, Maeve said curtly.

Before Celaena could stop it, a tendril of magick lashed out and touched the surface of the opal. It was cold and
smooth, but inside, deep inside, lay a fire, practically embers, still burning. It was a core of magick, of Glamasils
magick.

Her power shot like an arrow into the dwindling fire, and Celaena gasped as she felt a flame of light leap up in
response before decreasing once more. She heard it calling her name, she heard it begging for her to touch it, to put
her whole heart into it.

Your roadfor remembrance, as a reminder.

With your past, you could

I know what I could do, and it wouldnt work.

The memory, her last conversation with Arobynn rang in her head. How far she had come! It was embarrassing to
think of how cowardly she had been, how much she still was a coward in so many ways.

A wicked smile spread itself across her face as she looked at the black opal once more.

Not anymore.

Now, Maeve said, her voice loud and clear, I want you to make it burn.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Everyone awake in Orynth was staring at the sky, their jaws slack, as they watched ribbons of color begin to flash
across the black surface with increasing clarity. Strangers spoke to each other, wondering what it was all about, and
several people rushed home to bang on the doors of their friends and familyeven people they didnt knowto tell
them to get outside to behold the unfolding spectacle.

Within a quarter of an hour, over half of the city was gathered around the castle, too awe-struck to listen to the
soldiers that were trying to get them to go back to work. But soon even the soldiers themselves were taken aback by
the event, and they joined the masses to watch the tower.

The door to the tower had been locked ever since Orlon had died, and not even the best locksmiths or architects could
manage to break through the silver door that led to the inside of the opal. Some said it was cursed, some said that
the door had just rusted shut.

Though it had been fifteen years since the Opal Tower had shone, it was the children of Orynth that were the most
excited, picking up and spreading rumors that the heir of Trasien had been spotted, that she was going to hang the
Viceroy of Trasien by his feet and skin him alive for what he had done to their country. They had grown up, or were
still growing up, to the legend of the missing princess, the story of a girl barely older than they, and as the tower
began to show colors with increasing speed, thousands of tiny eyes were bright with excitement and pride.

There was a crack, a deafening boom, and the crowd gasped as a streak of green shot across the black surface like
forked lightning, its color greater and more vivid than any before it.

Thereagain!
Purple whipped across the surface, no noise announcing its arrival, before gold and blue snapped downwards,
interlacing like snakes.

A whisper spread across the crowd that today was Aelin Galathynius twenty-third birthday, and hands were clenched
around each other, around hearts and throats and almost every grasp-able, socially-appropriate part of ones body as
the colors now began to deeply etch themselves in the surface like wild lightning.

Red. Blue. Emerald. Sapphire. Rose. Violet. White. Turquoise. Gold. Silver. Copper. Brown. Tangerine. Peach.
Magenta. Taupe.

The crowd became louder, its gasps and cries of awe increasing as the colors became more frequent, blending in with
each other, chasing each other across the dark surface, as if they were stretching their legs after a long carriage ride.
It was only when all of the colors flashed downwards like streamers that the crowd began to really yell.

They realized what was happening, they realized what had happened, and as a small balcony door opened from
another part of a palace, revealing a fat, ugly man dressed in a green and gold night robe, thousands of angry eyes
turned towards him to hiss in fury.

The Viceroy of Trasien beheld the crowd before himit seemed as if all of Orynth were there. Why, there were more
people gathered outside right now than there had been at his coronation! But what were they doing here? Especially
just after dawn! They had awoken him from his sleephe wasnt due to awaken for another two hours!

He scowled at the loudness of the crowd, wrapping his robe tightly against him to keep out the morning chill, and
decided not to wave his raised hand as he turned his head to look at what the crowd was gaping at above him.

The Opal Tower was alive!

Granted, its background was still black as pitch, but colors were lashing out across it like a furious storm of paint.

The Viceroy of Trasien began to tremble as he realized who the crowd was suddenly hissing at, and why.

Darling, his young wife said from behind him, poking her blond head out from behind the balcony door.

But the viceroy was already retreating.

What are all these people his wife began, but he had already pushed her inside.

Weve got to stay inside, he said, his voice quivering, as he pushed his fat frame through the door and closed it
behind him, locking it securely.

He rushed over to a window, threw open the curtains, and grasped the marble windowsill as he watched the tower
flash and burn. He felt like vomiting, he felt like fainting. The King of Adarlan had never mentioned this, he had never
mentioned thatthat

The Viceroy of Trasien sunk to his knees and leaned against the wall, his face pale. His wife rushed towards him,
kneeling down beside him, and he saw her brown eyes go wide as she looked through the window and saw the blazing
tower above.

The man let out a quiet moan of terror as he heard the crowd roar in response to a flash of crimson, and he frantically
wondered who would protect him should Aelin Galathynius come charging through the door to reclaim the throne that
his king had stolen from her.

The crowd was also wondering this, and from far away, Celaena Sardothien, who had been carefully, gently, adding
her magick to the fire within the opal, smiled in deviance as she heard the bellowing crowd in her ears.

It was time.

Pink, green, azure, scarlet, and buttercup cracked across the surface, splitting the darkness into a thousand pieces.

Celaena took a deep breath, gathering all of her magick back to her before the final push.
The crowd suddenly fell silent, all eyes now on the tower, as thousands of colors shot into the center of the opal,
disappearing, the entire surface black.

This is your time to rattle the stars.

Continue to make us proud, Aelin Galathynius.

With a gasp, Celaena hurled her magick into the image of the tower in a rushing current of power, but making sure
not to lose herself entirely within the sphere.

There was a splintering crack, far worse than any thunder, and in a blast of blinding white light, the Opal Tower
exploded into Life, its brilliant colors screaming in open defiance.

The crowd took a step back, blinking furiously, and eyes dampened and overflowed as they focused on the renewed,
milky surface of the tower. Across it flowed screams of color, so bright and strong that some people swore it was
more vivid than it had been when Orlon was alive.

But for all of the talking that ensued, all of the hugging and crying and sudden anger, there were a few rushing
towards the center of the city, to another tower, atop of which sat not an opal, but a bell, dusty and massive.

The King of Adarlan had installed these as a way to win over his people, but it had never worked. They knew he had
taken the throne by false means, they knew that he had been in Orynth the very night of the Galathynius murders.
And as the city was alight with color that seemed to wash away the dirt and grime that had accumulated through
fifteen years of governmental neglect, a group of children, who, like their kind, had grown up to the legend and dream
of Aelin Galathynius, paused before the forgotten building, wondering if their task were even possible.

It was a girlblonde and fair like their queenwho then burst through the wooden door, her small frame slamming
into the surface with strength beyond her ten years. Her queen was alive.

She ignored the cries of her comrades as she raced up the spiral staircase, breathing heavily.

Her queen was alive, and when she returned, she would kick out the tyrant who had taken their city and sent her
parents to work in Endovier.

She had woken up this morning to a pounding on the door of the orphanage, and had run through the open door and
away from the priestesses who fed and clothed them, as soon as she had heard that the Opal Tower was coming to
life. She had found her friends from her life before the orphanage, right where they had said they would be if anything
like this should happen. While she had not been chosen to ring the bell, she suddenly felt as if it were her right.

Aelin Galathynius was an orphan, just as she, and perhaps she had spent some time living in the misery that an
orphanage supplied in bulk. Aelin Galathynius was coming home and she would fix things for themshe would find
her parents and bring them back to her and take her out of the orphanage.

The girls feet pounded against the stairs, and she increased her pace as she heard her older, faster friends, catching
up to her. She turned another corner, the last before the top of the tower.

Aelin Galthynius would make things right.

The girl stumbled as she reached the top of the stairs, and she practically fell onto the rope as the bronze bell loomed
before her, stretching upwards into the glass roof that held it in place. She glanced briefly through the open sides of
the roof, watching the Opal Tower burn in white glory before she grasped the coarse, decaying rope between her
hands and pulled as hard as she could.

The bell moved to one side, and with a thunderous boom, it began to ring. She pulled again, and again, her small
arms aching with the weight of the thing, and a fierce grin spread across her face as she heard the crowd in front of
the castle bellow its triumph.

Her companions reached the top, and the girl braced herself as the oldest, the one chosen to ring the bell, threw her
out of the way and wrapped himself around the rope, bobbing up and down like a buoy.
The girl raised herself, but soon let out a cry of terror as three soldiers appeared at the top of the tower, their swords
drawn and faces dark with fury.

Get off of that! one of them commanded and the terrified children froze, their smiles fading from their face. The girl
began to shake, her eyes wide with fear. The bell would not stop ringingeven though the oldest boy was now
standing far away. In fact, it showed no signs of moving, and each time the guards moved towards it to silence its
sound, it swung wildly at them. One of them commanded the other to slice it down from the ceiling, and the soldier
reluctantly drew his sword.

But the damage had already been done.

From far away, from the North Gate of the city, another bellthe sister bell of this onewas ringing, its pitch just a
bit higher, and moments later, a faint ringing, a bit higher than the other one, could be heard. The soldier retracted
his command and returned his gaze to the children.

All of them were smiling wickedly, and though the guards led them down the stairs, scolding them harshly, none of
their smiles faltered once as the sound of the warning bells could be heard from all corners of the city.

From town to town, bells began to ring, dust flying from their unused surfaces as citizens of Trasien furiously pulled
up and down on their ropes. The sound swept across frost-covered plains, into the crevices of mountains and down
waterfalls, bursting into every corner of the country with a magick that the King of Adarlan did not instill in the
system. The East Wind, hearing the noise after completing his task, doubled back and carried the sound in his arms,
bringing with him flashes of color from the glowing city of Orynth.

Farmers stopped their plowing, washers stopped their scrubbing, and even the slaves in Endovier paused their
pickaxes as their ears filled with the sound that they hadnt dared, not even for a moment, to wish to hear.

The exiles who had fled their homes that morning after the summons of Aelin Galathynius let out a cry of victory as
they heard the bells toll, and they spurred their horses faster, the name of their queen bursting from their lips. It was
happeningit was changing so quickly.

In a matter of moments, in a matter of hours, the whole world was suddenly changing.

And Thaelius Glorwynn, who had been awake, staring at Orynth in disbelief from the moment he had felt the chills
spread across his body, let out whoops of delight as he beheld the rebirth of the tower, and then more as he heard
the bells begin to ring furiously from village to village. She was truly aliveit hadnt been a dream! He would find her,
find her and put her back on the throne, and then, at long last, after so many prophecies and visions and years of
despair, she would be his queen.

Even if the towns hadnt been installed with a bell, people rang whatever bell they could findsmall or large or even
rusted and broken. They rang and rang until their arms threatened to snap, not noticing that by now the bells were
ringing on their own, and as the day went on, the bells continued to blare their song.

Day wore into night, word spreading like wildfire that the Opal Tower had been rekindled. Despite watchful eyes of the
soldiers of Adarlan, townspeople talked outright about the rumors, about why she had chosen her birthday to
announce her fate, about how the King of Adarlan was sitting on her throne, about how now, fifteen years later,
things would finally be set right. She would remove his armies from their country, liberate her people, possibly even
lead a war against him.

As night fell, the bells could still be heard, and candles were lit in every window, along every street, illuminating every
doorwayso many of them in each town that birds flying overhead thought that the darkened earth was bleeding
rivers of quicksilver. Gates to towns were flown open, many against the wishes of the doubtful, terrified soldiers; and
roads lined with candles stretched out into the wilderness, lighting the way home for Aelin Galathynius long into the
night.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 23

The earth that rushed beneath Celaena Sardothien was awash with color. Before her stretched a golden plain,
splattered with rainbows of wildflowers that were still unfamiliar, encompassed on three sides by the dark, deep
woods of Wendlyn. On the plains Eastern border sat the foothills of looming mountains that were not jagged and
broken like the Teeth of the Staghorn in Trasien, but rather sweeping curves that stretched into the sky like lances.
The snows of winter still lay upon their heads, and even from a great distance, Celaena could see the suns work
cascading down their sides.

The wind whipped at her face, warm and smelling of nutmeg, and tangled itself in her hair with wild fingers. Her right
hand wielding Goldryn and her left arm raised as it held her bronze shield, Celaenas body braced itself as the horse
beneath her leapt across a small brook and headed towards the practice dummy before her. Within seconds, they
were upon it, and with a calculated and mighty swing, Celaena cleaved the head of the dummy far from its body and
into the air. Three more dummies appeared, one on her left and another on her right, and yet another on her left, and
Celaena dealt them sure blows, her sword arm deftly crossing over the horse to strike.

Her blood churned and fizzled in her veins as she galloped onwards, her kaleidoscope eyes sparkling with the magick
that fueled her. After igniting the Opal Tower, Maeve had sent her off with Raonnwho was trailing behind her on his
own horsefor more training. As irritating as it was to not be given a moments rest, Celaena could not help but feel
the exhilaration that accorded when she put her magick to good use.

It was the perfect day for her birthday: the clouds in the turquoise sky were like massive castles adrift at sea, the sun
was warm and kind to her eyes, and the spring flowers had finally opened to receive the last few weeks of heavy
spring rain that would undoubtedly return. She didnt know how she had managed to forget her birthdaytwo years
in Endovier had probably caused itbut she still was able to feel the mild unpleasantness that comes with one
realizing that they are one step closer to wrinkles and aching joints. Still, this didnt stop her as she flew onwards, her
dappled gray stallion steady and swift beneath her.

He was truly a beautiful horse: his cream-colored mane flowed like a sheet of silk, and his coatpewter dotted with
spurts of quicksilverglistened like a rushing spring river. His hooves were light on the ground, and he seemed to
have the uncanny abilitylike Samsirrionto detect when and where she wanted to go. Normally uncomfortable on
horseback, Celaena was unusually at ease upon his broad back: as fast as he might gallop, she never felt as if she
might slip from him and break every bone in her body. She had changed from her white dress that she had worn that
morning into her usual pants and tunic, though now, with the midday sun beginning to intensify, she wished that she
had remained in something that didnt stick to her skin quite as much.

The sound of Raonns horse grew louder, and Celaena looked over her shoulder as the Fae Prince approached on his
chestnut mare, his silver locks tightly braided into a single plait down his armored back. Though he had no helmet
with him, Celaena remarked on how easily he could have been a character in some Fae legend: his golden chest
armor was engraved with the image of a sleeping dragon, a background of mountains and stars set behind it. His
greaves and gauntlets were also of the same color and metal, though they depicted falcons in hunt and flight.

As he joined her side, Celaena smiled broadly at him, unable to contain the joy she felt as the wind caught her hair
behind the ears and pulled it far back in a golden wave.

Enjoying yourself, are you? Raonn called to her, veering his horse to follow Celaena as she made a wide sweep to
the left. The young queen could only laugh in response, her smile revealing all of her white teeth.

They galloped across the plain for a few minutes longer before Raonn spoke again. You can Talk to him, you know,
he said, jerking his chin at her horse.

Celaena laughed and asked him what he meant, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Raonn removed a hand from the horses reins and pointed a long finger at his head. As both you and your horse are
of the Fae, you can communicate with each other.

Celaena looked at the beast beneath her and raised her eyebrows. You mean he can understand everything Im
saying? she called back to him.

Raonn smirked, but said: Open up your mind a bitjust because most of it is defunct doesnt mean you cant Talk to
him.

Celaena gave him an incredulous look, but when he gestured for her to try, she closed her eyes and thought of the
running animal beneath her. After a moment, Celaena began to blush furiously, and, thinking she had, yet again,
been tricked by the prince, her eyes flew open to glare at him.
Keep trying, Raonn laughed, but Celaena refused. Try, he snarled, and Celaena felt a little breeze pull down upon
her eyelashes, dragging her lids down with them. She fought against it for a second, but decided that she liked her
eyes the way they were, and submitted herself to the red, vein-lined curtain that covered her eyes. From across the
way, she heard Raonn mutter a few words.

There was suddenly a small voicesounding like it was far away, but growing closer by the momentthat popped into
her head, though it easily could have been audible. It was so alarming that Celaena immediately opened her eyes,
shivering. She sheathed Goldryn and swung her shield upon her back. She could still hear the voice, though it was a
bit unclear, and she looked towards Raonn. He only motioned that she try to speak, and Celaena rolled her eyes as
she leaned forward in the saddle.

Hello? she asked loudly, craning her neck towards the horses ear.

Why, hello! a loud, rumbling voice replied so merrily that Celaena let out a little scream and flung herself back in the
saddle.

He can talk! she exclaimed.

Of course he can Talk, Raonn sneered, thats what Fae horses do!

Samsirrion didnt talk!

You didnt ask him to.

She looked at the horse, which didnt look as if it were having a conversation, and bit her lip, wincing as her head
banged against her shield.

Say something! the Fae prince barked.

Yes, say something!

Celaena yelped, but then let out a laugh of delight.

I apologize if I scared you, but, you see, Ive been trying to talk to you for the past hour without luck. Its about time
you decided to listen to me!

Celaenas chin hung down towards her chest-plate, and the reins fell from her hands.

Useless things, reins. If you ask me, her horse continued in a deep voice, you dont really need that saddle unless
youre riding some common animal.

Celaena looked at Raonn, who seemed to also understand what the horse was saying, and began to laugh with joy as
she leaned forward in the seat again.

Youd never believe how jealous the other horses were that I got to take you out today! Oh, Mab and Mora above, I
should examine whats lying about in my oats tonight!

Celaena laughed again. Whats your name? she called to him, grinning broadly.

Werent you listening? he said, tossing his head so that it looked like a storm cloud covered sky, My name is
Meiresius!

Tell me, Meiresius, how fast can you go? she said with a wry smile.

Faster than the West Wind on a blustery day, naturally!

Would you like to prove it?

A Fae horse needs to prove nothing!

What if a carrot or two were involved?

The horse let out a whinny, and Celaena chortled.

I can only go faster with your assistancesummon the wind to me, I will do the rest!

I dont know how to summon the wind! she giggled.

Just imagine it coming to youlook at a cloud or a bee or some silly air-bound thing and draw it towards youyes,
yes, thats goono, not too much or Ill go flying into the air!

Celaena gasped aloud as Meiresius suddenly shot forward like an arrow.

The wind swept beneath his silver hooves, making them move so lightly that it was as if he was barely touching. She
let out a cry of victory as she felt the feral call of her magick boom within her body, the gold speckles in her eyes
flashing. With a surge of power, they sped past Raonn, who soon transformed himself into his animal form.

Leaning forward in the saddle to speed them further, Celaena laughed and laughed and laughed as they raced,
shouting a cry of jubilee when she heard a screech and a fluttering of wings as Raonn flew circles around them.

This was what she had been missing for the past fifteen years! They were faster than the wind, merely a puff of
smoke against a shimmering plain, and Celaena had never felt more a part of the world.

What else would you like to see me do? Meiresius chuckled, unfazed, but delighted by her interest.

Everything! she called, and screamed with delight as they rushed forward again.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard walked slowly down the halls of the palace, tapping his fingers against each other with rapid
speed. He kept his face blank, nodding politely at those who passed, but could not control the confusion and worry
that was squirming within his stomach.

After waking up to a fit of chills, Dorian had immediately ordered a hot breakfast, yet it had done little to ease the
incessant tingling that ran up and down his limbs. Thinking himself to be sick, he had bundled up in his heaviest cloak
and sat down to inspect what he had before him for the day.

He had paid little attention when the page arrived with the daily newspaper, and paid even less attention when the
page placed it before him, a look of anxiety spread across his young face. He was halfway through with signing letters
to various acquaintances when he had glanced at the headlines. At first, Dorian thought the page had mistakenly
given him his mothers weekly edition of some gossip tabloid, and even when he had looked over the papers title
again and again, he still called the page to him.

Is thisis this todays paper? he asked, more quietly than he would have preferred, but the boy had nodded
nonetheless.

And this isthis is true?

The boy nodded again, and cleared his throat. The ships were spotted off of the Gorgin Archipelago a few days ago
and in very bad shape. He then added, Your highness.

No, no, Dorian said, suddenly realizing that the attack on Peregrinno had been kept secret from the general public
until now, I mean about he pointed at the name in the headline. Is it true that she was there?

Oh yes, your highness, the boy said, his eyes growing wide. I heard it was all over town. Pigeons have been flying
in from the boats for the past few days declaring itI suppose someone at the newspaper got a hold of itthe birds
arent too smart, you see, and they

So the whole city knows about this?

The boy then blinked rapidly, blushing, and nodded. Yes, your highness.

Dorian had dismissed him after that, wondering how much worse things could get by noon, and immediately set off to
see the man who might be able to offer an explanation.

Now, it seemed, that every step he took made him more nervous. Tiryn had worked for the royal family of Trasien,
and while this might have been some ploy by Wendlyn to scare Adarlans royals into foolish action, the mere rumor
could be destructive toto whatever they had been doing these past few months.

Dorian reached the Ministers door and took a deep breath. There were voices inside. Should he enter?

The Crown Prince leaned closer to the door, keeping a careful watch of the hall around him, and listened.

Its nothing to worry about, and in a few days time, many will have forgotten it.

When word gets out about the Opal Towersurely the King knows by now about it.

It was Aedion.

The Opal Tower. The Opal Towerwhat was that?

Dorian moved away from the door as if it had burned him, struggling to regain his composure as Aedion Ashryver
appeared in the doorway, frowning.

I figured someone was listening, he sneered at Dorian, and stepped aside to let him in. There was something smug,
something so expectant and overtly-confident in his features, even more so today than any other

Another wave of chillsdifferent from those he had been feeling all morningwashed down Dorians back as Aedion
closed the door behind him, leaning against its wooden panels as Dorian approached the Minister.

II Dorian stammered, furious at his own unease.

Read the paper, did you? Tiryn chuckled.

Is it true? the prince blurted out.

Is what true? Aedion asked innocently. Dorian bit down upon the snarl that rose to his throat and took a deep
breath.

Isdid Aelin Galathynius trulydid she really defeat Adarlan at Peregrinno?

The Minister eyed Dorian for a moment, looked towards Aedion, and then nodded. Yes, your highness. Aelin
Galathynius did fight at Peregrinno.

But Celae Dorian began, and then glanced over his shoulder at Aedion Ashryver.

Come now, your highnessby now you should realize that the General knows everything we have spoken about
especially in regards to Celaena Sardothien.

Dorian frowned slightly, then continued. Celaena didnt mention anything about the princess being there.

Queen, Aedion said sharply. Aelin is Queen of Trasien, not princess.

But shes dead, Dorian said, straightening his posture as Aedion stalked towards them from the door.

There was a small smile on the Generals face as he took a seat beside the Minister, crossing a muscular leg over the
other. It turns out your fathers dirty work went a bit awry, dont you think?

Dorian shivered uncontrollably, and ran a hand up and down one of his arms.
Are you cold, your highness? The Minister asked, his eyes widening slightly.

Dorian sighed. I woke up at dawn with these awful chills, and I cant seem to get rid of them.

Aedion jerked forward in his chair, grabbing the princes arm so forcefully that Dorian let out a cry as the man pushed
his shirtsleeves up to the elbow. Sure enough, all of the little black hairs on Dorians arm were standing erect, almost
quivering and moving in unusual waves.

The General gaped at his arm, then looked at Tiryn and began laughing as he released Dorian from his grip. Dorian
staggered back and conveniently fell into a chair, wondering what kind of madness was occurring now.

You were right, Tirynthe princeling does indeed care for her! I should give you more credit, your highness.

Dorian stared at both men, and then looked down at his arm. I dont understand, he said.

Well, Im not surprised at that, Aedion drawled. You dont understand many things, even though you do seem to
have some amount of loyalty where things matter most.

Dorian looked at the Minister pleadingly.

Aedion, the old man warned, but the General ignored him.

You see, all three of us have been suffering from these chills, as you called them, ever since dawn today.

Aedion. Tiryns white teeth flashed from his mouth.

Several things are occurring today, princeling, Aedion continued. The first, as you have noticed, is that Aelin
Galathynius lead an army of peasants to defeat your army of soldiers in a battle against Wendlyn. The second is that
today is Aelin Galathynius birthdaysomething of little relevance, yet something you might want to remember in the
future. The third is that this morning, all those loyal to Aelin Galathynius and Trasiens freedom woke up with these
chillsa signal that, yes, perhaps the rumors from Peregrinno are true: she is alive. The fourth, and most important
event to happen to-date, is that the Opal Tower of Orynth, citadel of the Galathynius family, began to burn once more
today.

The Opal Towerthe indication that a Galathynius is in powerIts been black ever since my father

Im glad that your queen is alive, and Im beginning to see how Aelin Galathynius will help us in the future, but at the
moment, Im still quite

Help us in the future? Aedion laughed. You foolish boy, shes been helping us from the beginning!

Aedion, you will silence yourself or leave this room.

Why shouldnt he know? the General spat back. We all may be hung by tonight!

The Minister closed his eyes, silent for a moment, and when he opened them, his gaze fell upon Dorian. There was a
sadness, a guilt, in them that Dorian would much later understand, and as the Minister let out a deep breath, it
suddenly seemed as if they were standing on the edge of a cliff.

Celaena Sardothien and Aelin Galathynius were both at Peregrinno, Tiryn said, turning cold eyes to look at Aedion.

But Celaena didnt mention anything about her! Dorian exclaimed again, his heart beginning to skip beats. Had
Celaena and the Minister secretly conspired to find Aelin Galathynius in Wendlyn and bring her home to Trasien?

Of course she didnt, Aedion sneered.

But I saw Celaena leading Peregrinnothere was no other woman!

Neither the Minister nor the General moved, though the pity in the old mans eyes seemed to be increasing by the
second.

There was a moment thena moment where Dorian felt his lungs freeze over and his body become useless and slack.

It, Dorian began, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. The realization kept on penetrating itself into his head,
ripping open so many holes in his mind that no matter where he sought to hide from it, its light soon found him out.

No, he said bluntly, his mouth hanging open a bit as he shook his head.

Dorian, we wished that we could have told you differently, the Minister said quickly, but Dorian had already risen
from his seat so quickly that he knocked over the chair.

It had been a trapthey had been scheming together for months about this: she would rise to power under the cover
of his title, convincing him to join their side before

She isnt, he said loudly. His very bonesall the way down to his feetwere be aching. Shes an assassin.

The room was growing and shrinking around him, and he felt the icy call of his magick electrify his blood.

Not anymore, Aedion sneered loudly.

Dorian, whose attention had been on the unstable dimensions of the room, suddenly turned towards Aedion, his blue
eyes blazing.

That was why he seemed so familiar. From the color of his hair, to his insufferable arroganceand especially to the
now-unmistakable gold and blue eyes. It was true.

Aedion stared hard at the Crown Prince, his gaze unmoving as Dorian felt his rage rise up within him. They were
cousins. Childhood friends. He had avoided going to Peregrinno to give her the opportunity to make herself known.
They were just using him in their plot to reclaim the throne.

Had Chaol known? Had he

Yes, he knew. Hes known all along. He was too compliant, too unsuspecting. There was something strange,
something secret between them. Theyve all been using me as a pawn. That was why she sent Chaol awayto muster
what forces he could with her assassins guild.

Youre all conspirators, Dorian said, his voice shaking. Youve been planning this all along.

Aedion laughed, It seems like youve finally caught on.

The high-pitched scream of shattering wood and metal was barely heard as the chair beneath Aedion exploded. The
General fell to the floor, removing his hands from his face. How had he reacted so quickly?

Magick.

She told him that she had itthat she had tons of itPower that an assassin shouldnt have, but a princess

Dorian, the Minister said, his voice trembling. We would have told you ages ago, but our suspicions were only
confirmed this

Dont you dare lie to me, Tiryn, Dorian spat. Dont think that Im foolish enough to not realize the ways in which
you manipulate others. Youve been plotting this all along, waiting until she signaled that it was time to act! Ive just
been

Things are now in motion that cannot be stopped, Tiryn said, his voice low, but strong.
Yes, because all of youyouve just been He took a step back, trying to control the blinding pain that had seized
his body. Oh, Gods above, Ive been such a fool, he whispered, taking another step towards the door.

From the moment she had first seen him in Endovier, she had begun plotting. She would first turn him against his
court, then his family, then his kingdomAnd she had come so close to it, so close to turning him into a weapon
against his father

Tiryn, Aedion growled, rising from the ground.

Dorian, the Minister said urgently. Dorian again took a step backwards.

Youre all traitorsall of you, Dorian hissed.

Tiryn began talking rapidly, but Aedion was suddenly standing still, his eyes wide.

Youre going to betray her, the General said softly. Tiryn whipped his head around to look at Aedions stunned face,
and then back to Dorian.

You coward, Aedion snarled, his face shifting into fury. You spineless moron.

I cannot betray my country, Dorian said, his insides turning into a chilled splattering.

But you would betray the woman you love? Aedion cried, suddenly drawing his sword. I knew from the moment I
saw you that you were just as you appear to be: a whining, spoilt, pampered child whose only sense of allegiance lies
with himself and the treasury!

Dorian stopped walking, knowing that if he ran Aedion would surely run him through.

That friend of yoursthe Captain of the Guardhes got more loyalty to Trasien than you do, and he was the worst
of you brainwashed morons in Adarlan!

I will tell Captain Wydrael to return at once and Dorian stammered, his mind an island so far away that he didnt
even know what words he was uttering.

You will have no luck, Crown Prince, Tiryn said, gently. It has come to my attention, through recent
correspondence with the Assassin King himself, that the young Captain has been informed of Celaenas true identity
and has chosen to remain with us. Should you choose to walk out of this room, you will find yourself without friends
whom you can trust, and a father who is ready to kill anyone in association with Aelin Galathynius.

Ill tell him everything, Dorian said quickly. Ill tell him today, and

And hell hang you. Youve been a traitor, your highness, and your father would sooner make an example out of you
than allow someone once-turned against him back onto his side.

Hes my father.

A Valg would make a better father than him, Aedion spat. Dorian ignored his confusing comment (he had heard the
word before, but could not place it), and took another step back.

How could Chaol havehow could she have

All of the similarities, all of the coincidences were rushing back towards him. Aedions resentment towards him, her
lack of mental control, her fear of his father and deep, deep hatred towards Adarlan

You must choose again, Dorian, Tiryn said gently. I told you once before that you have to choose between Celaena
and your fatherand this time it is no different. Should you choose your father, you must either decide between the
sure-death that would await you if you informed him of your betrayal, or you must remain quiet on the issue and
resume the activities in which you once participated. Should you choose Aelinor Celaena as you call heryou will
find yourself surrounded by powerful allies who can help you through this dangerous period of time.
The clock on the wall seemed to scream away the seconds, and neither Aedion or Tiryn dared to move as Dorian
looked around the room frantically.

It had been a trap, an elaborate plot to bring down this very castle. She had betrayed him; she had led him down a
false path. She was as manipulative as Tiryn, if not worse. She had broken his heart, treated it as if it were a
plaything, and was now tossing it away for the dogs to pick at.

The whole world was reshaping itself, donning darker colors and sharp edges. No matter where he turned, he sliced
something open. He could not tell if a hand was a claw or if a sword was merely a butter knife, or if the sun was the
moon. Everything was morphing, mutating into something ghastly.

The eyes of the Minister and General were wide, one set filled with pity and the other with bloodlust, as Dorian
DeHavilliard turned on his heel, flung open the doors, and fled down the hallway.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Mist swirled around Doranelle, casting a grey veil over the area in which Celaena and Raonn trained. Up to the calf in
mud, Celaena merely grunted as she raced across the track, too immersed in her task to complain about the sudden
disappearance of the sun or her exhaustion.

After frolicking about with Meiresius until noon, Raonn had dragged her back to Doranelle for more training, insisting
that, while she was riding the explosion of her blood magick, she might as well learn some new things.

She ran as fast as she could, bearing the weight of her shield on her back and Goldryn in her hand, wiping the mud
out of her eyes as it splattered across her face behind Raonns horse.

DROP! he commanded, and Celaena threw herself to the ground, gasping as her shield slammed into the back of her
neck. Her arms sunk into the mud, but she found a balance of sorts in time for her to jump to her feet as Raonn called
RISE!

Running again, dropping again, running again, dropping again, Celaena breath grew raspy in her throat as they
passed their second mile, even her magick tiring of supporting her. Before them loomed two mounting poles, both
made out of some sort of flexible wood. Assuming what Raonn expected, she gave a final burst of speed as they
neared, preparing for the jump, only to hear, DROP!

Losing her footing, she tumbled into the mud, her face scraping against rocks and bits of vegetation as it sank into the
wet earth. Jump!

Celaena raised her head from the mud and stared at him, her jaw hanging open. Mud dropped into her mouth, grainy
and tasting of rotten food. JUMP!

Standing up, it was a difficult jump, but lying on the ground

Celaena spat the mud onto the ground, looking at her challenge as she sheathed Goldryn. Bracing herself in the
squelching ground, she brought her legs up beneath her in a crouch, her muscles tensing, releasing, then

WHAM

Celaenas head and armor hit the first bar so hard that white flecks danced before her eyes. In a split-second, she felt
her magick lash out, using her hands and legs, and grab onto the pole. She clung to it, upside down, her mud-covered
hair still dragging in the ground, panting.

Are you done? Raonn sneered.

Celaena grunted, her breath coming in and out like a drum.

Trasien. Trasien. Trasien.

The word barely escaped her lips as she breathed, calming herself. Wrapping her right arm tightly around the pole on
which she hung, and securing herself with her legs, Celaena removed her left arm, wincing at the sudden weight of
her body, and reached for the neighboring pole.

Her fingers stretched to capacity, dried mud already cracking and crumbling between them, Celaena could still not
reach the pole. She would have to swing.

Thats a bit pathetic, you know, Raonn called, frowning.

Celaena released her legs enough to give her body space between the bar, and began to use the weight of the shield
to rock her back and forth. Her right arm protested against the action, but her left arm continued to reach, her fingers
splayed as they came closer with each swing.

Trasien. Trasien. Trasien.

Her fingertips grazed the bar, and Celaena braced her body as it swung back and then forward again, the bar moving
with her. Unhooking her leg with lightning-fast speed, Celaena caught the bar as it neared with the other half of her
body. The thrill of it sent another wave of magick through her, so strong and wild that, as soon as she had secured
her slimy hands on the pools, she dropped her legs and swung back and forth, back and forth, until she vaulted
herself into the air, her hands switching position so that she could stand in a perfect handstand.

Her hair fell in her eyes, and her arms strained as the poles buckled beneath her. A grin spread across her reddening
face, and Celaena dropped her legs so swiftly that she swung herself high into the air. She tucked herself into a ball,
her hair flying around her, flipping twice in the air before she caught herself again, and threw herself forward. Even as
an assassin, she had been good at this sort of thing, but now, with her magick

There was a third bar beside the set, and Celaenas hands caught onto its flexible pole as if she were a jungle creature
on a vine. In a series of flips, turns, tucks, and outright unbelievable sorts of tricks, Celaena used the bars as if they
were mere childrens toys.

It was only when she was doing hand-stand push-ups on the parallel bars that Raonn stopped her, a twisted smile on
his face.

You like showing off more than you would let on, dont you?

Well, it is my birthday, she said, her red face panting. Celaena then dismounted the bars, her feet almost collapsing
in the mud.

Im surprised at how exponentially your abilities have increased in just one dayhad you not been so stubborn prior
to this, perhaps we would have been able to make something of you.

Celaena looked at Raonn, who was smiling, and laughed. Surprisingly enough, he began to laugh too.

You seem bored by these things, and Im convinced that youll be able to manage whatever situation you might be
placed in with parallel bars. Raonns eyes sparkled. Would you like to test your magick now?

Celaenas breath quickened, but she nodded.

Good, Raonn said, Follow me.

He led her past the training track, where other Fae were practicing in the distance, and into a clearing where the mud,
it seemed, was quite at home. There were structures of sortssome of which Celaena had used beforebut what lay
in the middle was a series of thirty wooden poles, each about eight inches in diameter, set in a square of five rows, six
poles each. Between four and five feet off the ground and spaced about a foot apart, they were for balance practice,
and Celaena had glimpsed the Fae fighting on these a several timeseach time, it did not look easy.

Raonn pulled a handkerchief out of his cloak pocket. Put this around your eyes.

Are you mad? she blurted out, looking at the poles.

At you? Not at the moment, actually, he smiled. Here, mount this pole first, and then put it on.

Celaena clumsily climbed onto the pole, her feet too wide for the little notches that dotted the center two poles of the
row. Finally standing upon one in the center, Celaena winced as she looked down at the ground. It seemed like a long
and painful drop to the bottomin fact, she would probably get tangled in all of the poles and snap her neck.

Raonn handed her the blindfold, Celaena feeling dizzy as she reached around to grab it, and the assassin quickly tied
it around her eyes. The whole world suddenly seemed to be falling this way and that, and Celaena had to reassure
herself several times that there was no need to be overreacting as both she and the pole were not going anywhere.

She tried looking down through the bottom of the blindfold, and saw the ground below for a miserable moment before
the blindfold seemed to attach itself to her face, shutting out all light.

No cheating, Raonn said, his voice now across from her.

Celaena frowned, still trying to calm her nerves.

During the Valg Wars, the Fae were able to conduct battles at night, not just because of the fact that that was the
time when the Valg tended to do their worst damage, but also because the Fae could see in the dark.

Using their magick? Celaena replied.

Yes.

Thats impossible.

She could practically hear Raonn rolling his eyes. Like her earlier encounter with Meiresius, curiosity was beginning to
take over. If she could see in the dark

Just imagine what things Id be able to do!

Your magickincluding your blood magickis alive, if you will. Meaning, it is constantly inspecting your surroundings
and sending back reports to your body on what is around you. That is why you are able to move so quickly when you
react or sense that danger is around. Celaena heard Raonn draw his sword.

As of right now, your magick is only doing this on a subconscious level. She tensed. But if you allow for it to
emerge, then it can, in fact, he paused, and Celaena gasped slightly as she felt his blade push against her bare
throat. She hadnt even heard him coming, but she had

Felt like something was wrong.

Become your eyes, he whispered into her ear. A shiver went down her arms as his hot breath tickled her lobe, but
before she could respond, he was gone again.

Draw your sword and take out that shield of yours, he said.

Celaena did as she was told, her feet, even though they were in boots, trying to find stable ground. There was barely
enough room for both feet, in fact, it might have been better if

Raise one of your legs, I dont care which, he said.

What?

Raise one of your legs in the air and keep it at your side.

Celaena, carefully, slowly, raised her left leg straight into the air. I cant move it to the side like this.

Thats because youre holding it the wrong way. Bend your leg and then pivot it beside you. If you put two feet down
at once, Ill cut off your hair.
Celaenas mouth hung open. You wouldnt, she said. There was a sweeping noise, and the sharp, cold air of a sword
brushing by her face, and Celaena gasped with horror as a chunk of the hair around her face was cut in half and fell to
the ground.

How dare he! How dare he do such a thing!

Celaenas magick turned into a rolling boil as she clenched her jaw. She raised her sword, listening keenly for Raonns
approach.

There was a swish, and Celaena brought her shield up in time to catch the blow before her foot lost its hold on the
pole and she went tumbling into the

A hand caught her mid-air, threw her back upon the pole. Next time, I wont catch you, Raonn said. Again.

Im not

There was another sharp noise, and Celaena barely had time to raise her leg and her shield before the sword hit.
Swinging wildly, she found only air, and then more air, and some more before her face slammed into the edge of a
nearby pole, her sword arm was splayed across another, and she crashed into the ground, her back aching as it broke
her fall. Mud splattered all around her, and she winced as she felt it slide into her undergarments and every crevice in
her body.

There was a wetness dripping down her face, and Celaena quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand, knowing
its consistency all-too well. Everything hurt her. She pushed herself to her feet, still infuriated about her cut hair. Had
she been able to see, she certainly would have been able to fight himeven as an assassin this would have been
moderately easy! But blind

Celaena groped around for a pole, and, finding one, climbed up with some difficulty, as it had no mounting notches for
her this time. She could almost feel where he was

One leg! He called, and Celaena heard his sword cut through the air. In a burst of what could have been rage or
magick, her hand swung out, her fingers wrapping themselves around the Fae Princes wrist, stopping his blow.

It was probably in that moment, where her vanity overpowered everything, that a film over her eye seemed to
recede, revealing a gray, black, and white landscape that mirrored reality. In fact, it was the same landscape; only
the shapes seemed to be more two-dimensional. Raonn was a mix of grey and white, the borders of his figure shifting
as if it was deciding where to go. The trees around the glen also seemed to be moving around their boundaries,
though things like the poles were stationary, outlined in black.

A wicked grin spread across Celaenas face, and Raonn leapt back, landing on a pole several feet away. Celaena raised
a leg as the prince charged at her, sticking Goldryn into a neighboring pole and dropping her shield, and then dropped
onto her hands, grabbing two separate poles as she swung her legs up into the air.

Raonn was so taken aback by her movement that he paused long enough for Celaena to straddle his head between
her legs and bring him crashing down towards the poles. Flipping herself off of him before he could hit, she landed on
one leg and grabbed Goldryn. Raonn caught himself, smiling, and Celaena smiled back.

Im a fast learner, she smirked.

As am I, Raonn replied, grinning in such a manner that it only meant trouble.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Quelin Fenburn could not stop smiling as he sat in the study at his estate, nestled into a velvet armchair, a crackling
fire keeping the cold night air of spring at bay. The house had belonged to his family for generations, and laid just
beyond the road to Orynth. As a young man, this had been his favorite escape, but since Adarlans conquest, he had
been forced to abandon it for the safety of the wilderness.

The chateau, made of red bricks and green shutters, had become a bit overgrown. When they had reached it several
hours ago, they had found that they ivy now reached up to the third floor, and had completely covered the front door,
as well as generous parts of the balconies. As they expected many, many guests within the next few days, Quelin,
Hen, and Isalina had agreed to clean it at dawn the next morning, but for now

Quelin let out a long sigh. While their meal had not been a feast, Isalina had managed to cook up a delicious
assortment of both wild garden vegetables and their own dried meat.

Its strange, Isalina said quietly, looking around the study in which the three of them were sitting. Its as if it hasnt
aged a day.

I bet the furniture coverings helped a bit with that, Hen said dryly, and Isalina glared at him.

What I meant to say is that it suddenly seems as if fifteen again, in previous chapters it was seventeen years is gone
and were still twentyonly were not.

Aelins twenty-three today, Hen smiled. I wonder what shes turned out to be.

Quelin laughed. I bet as every bit rash as her father and every bit as beautiful as her mother.

Prettier, Id wager, Isalina laughed. But I also suspect that shes got a good deal of Rhoe Galathynius in her. Her
red and silver hair glistened in the dim candlelight of the room. Why, as a child, she could turn all of Orynth upside
down if she wished to! Imagine what a young woman could do!

The three of them laughed.

I wonder, Isalina mused, where Thaelius is at this moment.

Probably kicking himself for getting married, Quelin teased. Isalina chuckled.

You and I both know that that Fae would rather die than marry any other woman than Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Yes, but what if shes found someone else?

Quelin and Isalina turned to look at Hen, who shrugged. Assuming that she is both beautiful and charming, its only
natural to assume that she might be married. Remember, we dont know what shes been doing with herself all this
timefor all we know, she could have been raised as a bakers daughteror worse.

Even in our happiest moments, Quelin snorted, You must always consider the negative.

Poor Thaelius, Isalina sighed. The saddest thing Ill ever see was that man crying over her grave. He knew that she
wasnt dead then, and it just She stopped and shook her head. Ah, whats the point in remembering such sad
times when we have so many ahead?

Quelin smiled at his wife, and nodded. Well-put, my love, well-put.

Reclining in the large armchairs, the three friends stared into the crackling fire, its warmth stretching deep inside in
their bodies.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena sat by the fire, wrapped in Raonns heavy cloak. After an afternoon of absurdly fast and exhausting fighting,
Raonn had brought her back to his apartment built into the mammoth tree in the center of Doranelle. It was towards
the top of the tree, located beneath and beside Maeves chambers (for they seemed to occupy a good part of the tree
itself), and Celaena had been thoroughly exhausted by the time she reached the endless spiral staircase.

The apartment was moderately sized, everything either carved or crafted out of white wood, decorated in tapestries
and statues of great Fae before his time. It consisted of five rooms: a study, a bedroom, a bathing chamber, a dining
room, and the sitting room in which they were now seated. Located on the outside of the tree, a large wooden balcony
stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windowsframed by carved treesthe door to which lay at the far end of the
room. It was a beautiful view of the forest, and, as the sun had long since set, fireflies freely danced amongst its
carved railing posts.
He had insisted that she take a bath before even entering the sitting room, and when Celaena had emerged, free of
mud, though still covered in cuts and bruises, she found a dress of pewter gray waiting for her, along with fresh
undergarments and a comb. Made of a combination of silk and gossamer, it felt like more of a nightgown than
anything else, and Celaena was more than a bit self-conscious as she entered the sitting room, feeling only the
smooth fabric against her skin.

He motioned for her to sit, gave her enough food and drink to gobble down, and when she had informed him that she
was a bit cold, he had given her a clean, silver cloak. He ate little; and when she begged him to eat with her, he
merely stood and walked towards a flat, rectangular box on a nearby table. It was dark wood, carved with flowers and
pretty flying insectsa beautifully crafted piece of art.

Here, he said a bit awkwardly, and replaced her plate with the box. It was a bit heavy in her hands, and she looked
down at the lid and smiled.

Open it, he urged, its a birthday gift of sorts. Celaena raised her eyes to his, which glowed iron and gold in the
light, and smiled as she detected a slight blush upon his cheeks. Carefully, she opened the lid, her eyes widening as
she saw what lay inside.

It was a gold necklace, undeniably antique, made up of linked rectangles, growing in size on either side until they
reached the middle, where are large square sat, engraved with the image of two slumbering dragons. Celaena looked
at the gold squares again, marveling at the image depicted in eachthey were all of dragons in motion.

She raised her eyes to him again, the pure, bright gold of the necklace reflecting on her face.

Before our decline, my family was one of dragon-slayers. Our name, Whitethorn, refers to the first dragon my
ancestor slewthe terrible White Dragon. There havent been dragons for thousands of yearspartially due to my
family, and their migration, but the pride still carries oneven if I am the only one left. This necklace belonged to the
wife of the first Whitethornhe had it crafted for her on their wedding day, Raonn pointed at the center square of the
joined dragons, to symbolize both her introduction to his family, as well as their union.

Celaena shook her head and closed the box. II cannot accept this gift.

Raonn rolled his eyes. Do you think I have any use for it?

Your future wife or daughter might enjoy it.

Raonn snorted. I think you and I both know that I am far too picky for that sort of thing.

Celaena stared at the box and held it towards him. I really cannot take this from you.

Raonn opened the box and removed the necklace. I have many treasuresmany more valuable ones than thisits
presence here has little influence on me.

Celaena raised her eyebrows, and Raonn coughed. I did not mean ititits not a piece of rubbish if thats what you
think I meant! Its valuable, but something that I would rather see on someone I care for than sitting in a box for
hundreds of years.

A wry smile spread across Celaenas face. Oh, you care for me, do you?

Raonn glared at her. I spend most of my time trying to make you into someone presentable, so some attachment is
bound to arise.

Mmmhmmm, she said, batting her eyelashes.

Raonn shook his head and laughed. Not in the spiteful, mocking way, nor in the way he did when she made an ass out
of herself, but rather in a pleasant, warm, amused way that she had rarely glimpsed but never fully seen. It made him
seem more, more

Handsome? Human? Pleasant to be around?

Turn around, he said, opening the box once again. Celaena did as she was told, pivoting on the couch and removing
his cloak so that he could place the necklace on her. The air was still a bit chilly. She bit down on her lip as his smooth
fingers brushed her hair off of her neck in a gentle sweep, and bit down harder as she felt him place the necklace
around her and tie it, his breath cool upon her bare back.

There, he said, moving away from her. Celaena turned, her neck a bit burdened by the weight. It fell a few inches
below her collarbone, and its metal was cold and hard against her skin.

He stared at her for a moment, his grey eyes a mix of several emotions, and then smiled. It suits you well. Go look in
the mirror.

Celaena almost knocked over the table in front of her as she got up, hurrying over to the mirror placed beside the
front door. It was stunningif a bit overwhelmingthough it did lengthen the appearance of her neck.

This would have cost an arm and a leg in Adarlan!

Its

Fit for a queen, he said, smiling at her. Which you are, remember.

Celaena returned the smile, and looked at the mirror once again, craning her neck. Yes, I suppose I am.

Her eyes flicked to his small reflection in the mirror, and while she was a bit taken aback to find him staring at her,
she held his gaze nonetheless. She turned towards him, cocking her head to the side.

May I ask you a question?

If I said no, would it stop you?

Celaena rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch once more.

Why did you cry today when I came ba

You always manage to choose the most awkward and prying questions, dont you?

Celaena bit her lip, smiling sheepishly.

If you wish to know, Raonn said softly, its becauseWell, because

His face contracted with confusion. I dont know, actually. He shook his glorious hair and sighed. I suppose it was
the combination of you flying around the place, and the fact that, a few months ago, you were so unstable when it
came to your magick and past that you were almost a lost cause.

Celaena chuckled. Yes, I suppose I was.

And now, here you arecapable of putting a death blow to my throat.

I did manage to beat you today, didnt I?

Raonn clicked his tongue. One victory against unnumbered losses.

They were silent for a moment, but then he continued. It may actually have more to do with the fact that today
after twenty years of waitingI realized that there was someone in the world that could make Adarlan pay for what
happened to my kin and kind. I realized that that was why Maeve chose meover any other well-qualified Faeto
oversee your training. I, of all our kind on these shores, understood where you were coming from, the obstacles you
were against, and shared the same hatred as you for the DeHavilliard family.

Save for one, Raonn added.

Celaena smiled.

May I ask another question?

Do you even need to ask?

She grinned, and reached out a hand to touch his cheek, her fingers grazing across the tattoos. What do your tattoos
mean?

Raonn snorted. I was waiting for you to ask that question.

Celaena raised her eyebrows.

Tattoos are given to the Fae when they pass into adulthood. Every Fae endures some kind of trial or another based
on his or her chosen path. For example, if a young weaver is to enter adult society, she must face a task centered on
that talentit might be to weave a tapestry on her own, or to make thousands of spools of thread for a year. After
that task is completed, we are marked accordingly.

What was your trial?

Raonn shivered. I went into the forest on the Dark of the Moon and slew a Valg.

Celaena twitched. I thought the Valg were gone!

Yes, but some of them managed to hide within the dark spaces of the worldthey are still there to this day, though
most of them have been slain.

Is that why you dont go out on the Dark of the Moon?

It is one of the reasons whythere are many other wicked creatures that emerge when the moon is gone, and they
are not to be discussed while the night is overhead.

Celaena grimaced. So youyou won, right?

Raonn nodded. It was a lesser Valg, so I was spared any major loss of limb or sanity, but it was harrowing regardless
of its size.

You must have been terrified.

I was.

Celaena stared at the fire. Well, Im glad that you survived.

Raonn shook his head. So am I.

Celaena looked back at him, the necklace moving with her as if it were attached to her very skin. So your tattoos say
that you fought the Valg?

No, he said, and took her hand in his, pulling it up towards his face.

This, he said, tracing her index finger across the top green line, means wit and cunning. His skin was smooth and
softthough slightly cold, like he had been standing in the wind all day. And this, he said, running her finger across
the blue line, means loyalty, bravery, and love.

I didnt know colors and lines meant so much, she said.

The Fae have an elaborate language made up of what tattoos mean and represent.

Why does Maeve not have one?

Not all Fae have them on their faces.

Will I get one?

Are you to have a trial?

I dont know.

Then neither do I.

Celaena glowered at Raonn.

Perhaps after that ball of yours, Maeve will allow you to get one.

The ball?

Arent you going to the Ashryvers ball? Raonn asked.

Celaena scratched her head. II suppose I am.

But not to fulfill that stupid mission of yours.

Celaena jerked forward. She had forgotten about thatshe had forgotten completely about that!

I can work it intoIOh, I cant think about this now!

Celaena looked down at her lap, and gave another jerk as she realized that her hand was still in Raonns. It suddenly
was nighta whole day had passed since she had been at the chateau.

I have to go, she said, standing up. She began to unfasten the necklace, her heart beating wildly.

Go where?

Celaena removed the necklace and hastily put it on the table in front of her. Oh, I have to go now.

She rushed over to the door, grabbing her dirty cape from before.

Raonn stopped her in the doorway. Its almost midnightyoure not leaving this tree!

I can see in the dark now, cant I? I really need to be getting back to the chateau, she insisted, looking around for
her boots, and then realizing that she was already wearing a different pair of shoes.

She opened the door, and let out a cry as it was slammed shut by Raonns hand. Aelin, please.

Aelin. Aelin.

She felt as if she were between two great waves about to collide with each other, the water receding this way and
that so that all sure footing was almost impossible.

Was her mission over? If Chaol was safe, then could she do as she pleased? No, no. She had to fulfill her mission, to
keep up the guise of Celaena, to destroy the king and take the castle and Dorian from his control

I she started, and then tried again, and again.

She let out a sigh that could have doubled as a whimper and leaned forward, thumping her head on the door. Though
Raonn had healed her wounds, they still hurt badly.

Celaena Sardothien or Aelin Galathynius? Or Elentulyai?

She banged her head on the door once more, her eyes closed.

She felt Raonns hand upon her shoulder, and, against her best interests, turned into his arms and held him tightly.
His body stiffened, and then relaxed slightly as he placed one arm across her back and stroked her hair with the
other.

I dontI dont know what Im doing. I dont know who to be or what people expect me to be, or when to act and
when to hide, and as wonderful as this morning was, as wonderful as it is to have my magickits justIts just not
Oh, I dont even know! she groaned into his chest.

Raonn only kissed the crown of head and held her tighter.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael stared down at the newspaper clippings that were still scattered about the room, his eyes unmoving.
Celaena was Aelin. Aelin was Celaena.

He had received the newspaper, delivered from Arobynn, that morning, and while the headline did not surprise him, it
eerily fit into the mess of clippings that his friend had kept throughout the years.

Dorian would know nowhe was smart enough to figure things out.

It was amazing to himeven days after Arobynn had told him the newsthat she had gone undetected for so long. It
still infuriated him to think of Arobynns corruption, and of the treachery of the King of Adarlan, and each time his
thoughts turned to her, all that Chaol could think of were her eyesso sad and resigned at times.

To have lived with and be working for the very man that destroyed your familyHow could you even love Dorian,
knowing that?

It seemed to be a tragedy out of a novela disaster waiting to happen. That was why she had fought so hard against
it, that was why she had fled into his arms that nightit was the only logical reason for her extreme denial, for her
immediate hatred towards all of them.

That was why she had fought tooth and nail to survive in Endovier, why she fought Kaltain when she should have
surrendered, why she chopped the hair off of Kaltains head and almost ran her through with a sword.

She hadnt wanted to gain her freedom, but rather gain back a life that was wrongfully taken from herwasnt that
right?

All of the little mysteries and puzzles about her character seemed to be fading away, and with each uncovered riddle,
Chaol found himself more and more drawn to her in ways that he had never thought himself possible of feeling.

Yes, he would fight for herdie for her, in factand if Dorian wasnt the man who both she and Chaol believed him to
be, then he would be there, waiting for her

But for now, now all that he could do was to wait, to wait for her return or wait for another player to enter their game
of chance. He wished that he could go to her in Wendlyn, but the border lawsand common senseprevented him.

Chaol looked at the newspaper lying beside him, its pages creased.

He must have read the article at least ten times today.

Chaol sighed as he stood up from the couch and stalked into her bedroom. Everything seemed so delicate, so valuable
that he only dared to climb into her bed. The sheets were soft against his bare arms and feet, and he sunk
comfortable into the mattress as he blew out the candle beside the bed.

Though dust and time had masked most of the scent, there was still a hint of nutmeg and lavender in her pillows that
reminded him that though he was Captain of the Royal Guard of Adarlan and she was High Queen of Trasien, there
might yet be hope.
PART TWO: CHAPTER 24

Upon her arrival, Celaena Sardothien found the chateau in a state of extreme celebration. She could hear Stephaenya
and Leighanna cheering from inside, and above that, Luca laughing loudly. The kitchen door, its upper half usually left
open, was shut, and Celaena hesitated as she stood outside the chateau, listening to the conversation inside. She had
been gone for two days and had not bothered to inform anyone of her initial departure.

She turned her head as the sound of a horse filled her ears, and saw, to her great surprise, the Baron Ghent walking
away from the house, into the long alley of trees, a smile on his face. She watched him for a moment, and her brows
rose as he turned onto the main road and headed towards his estate, the coat of his black stallion glistening in the
morning light.

His clothes arent as fine as one would expect with such a beast, or Celaena looked at the sheathed sword that hung
down from his beltwith such a fine sword. A frugal man? Or perhaps one that just does not care for fashion the way
his spoilt son does.

The Baron suddenly looked towards her and Celaena clenched her jaw as she saw his mouth open slightly. Though he
was a moderate distance from her, and a few trees and bushes stood between them, their eyes locked together.
Raals ring was suddenly heavy on her hand, and Celaena nodded her greetings to the Baron before clumsily opening
the kitchen door, and slipping inside. Her heart was beating a bit faster than she would have liked, and Celaena used
the cover of a blink to allow her magick to wash through her with calming force.

Soft green flashed before her closed eyes, and she let out a long breath as her muscles relaxed. Time seemed to slow
for a second, and she could feel her blood pumping through her veins, passing through organs and arteriesshe was
in control, she controlled her thoughts now. As much as her magick might agitate and arouse her, Raonn had taught
her how easily it could also calm and heal her mind and body.

There was a loud cry, and Celaenas eyes flew open. A fraction of a second had passed, though it had felt like several
to her, and Celaena gasped as strong arms grabbed her from the doorway and lifted her into the air. Luca was
spinning her around, laughing and crying.

You must have done something, you must have said something! Luca cried, setting her down. Celaena, slightly
dizzy, looked at Luca, and then at Stephaenya and Leighanna, who were holding each other, their faces wet.

Said what? To whom? Celaena asked, smiling weakly. Didnt they want to know where she had been?

To the Baron Ghent! To my Luca smiled broadly, to my father!

Your fatherwhy, at long last Leighanna sighed, releasing Stephaenya and sitting down at the kitchen table.

Celaena shook her head, a grin breaking out on her face. Im still terribly confused, she admitted.

You little liar! Luca goaded, You spoke to him about it, didnt you? You convinced him to do it! Thats where youve
been these past few days!

To do what?

Luca laughed, and ran a hand through his hair. To acknowledge me as his sonas his firstborn son!

Celaena laughed, blinked, and then broke out laughing again, sitting down at the table. But why would he

Brenn and his friends were caught raping a young woman in town, Stephaenya said coldly, taking a seat beside
Leighanna. Since it was so public, the only thing Ghent could do was to disown Brenn as his son. Since he now only
has a daughter

He came here today to ask me to come live with him! Luca burst in. He explained everything to me about he and
my mother, about his dreadful wife and son, about how he had seen me at the tournament and had wished that he
could have spoken to me Luca trailed off, his eyes misting over.
But, Celaena said, biting on her lip. As wonderful as it isisnt it highlyunusual that the Baron would disown his
son over such a thing? Surely he could have tastefully covered it up.

Stephaenya glared at Celaena, but Luca shook his head. It just makes me believe that hes been waiting for a long
while to do this!

But hes still Brenns fatherkicking him out of the family is a bit much. Its surreal, in a way. I cant

Arent you happy? Stephaenya snapped. Luca is now heir to the Barons estate, meaning he is now royalty.

Celaena shook her head. Im thrilled, but I cant believe this without being a bit incredulous. I mean, what will the
Barons wife do?

Shes already threatening divorce.

Divorce? Celaena looked at her three companions. So the Baron would truly rip apart his estate for you?

Luca raised an eyebrow, his smile fading. You really didnt speak to him, did you?

Celaena frowned. No, but what makes you think that someone spoke to him? It sounds like he needed no one to
convince him to kick Brenn out.

No! He said that someone spoke to him about the situationa conversation that basically made him realize what had
been beneath his nose this whole time!

Raal.

Celaenas hands clenched into loose fists, Raals ring cold against her increasingly hot skin. He had to have spoken to
Ghent. He spoke to Ghent and told him everything about Lucas relationship with herabout howhow

If he has Luca, he might have access to Aelin Galathynius.

But let me tell you that word has spread that Aelin Galathynius won the battle at Peregrinno, and that there is an
eye in every household looking for her. Raals words from the tournament repeated themselves in her head with
unnerving clarity.

Ele? Luca placed a hand on her shoulder.

Raal, Celaena said quietly. It was Raal who spoke to him, Im sure of it.

Luca was quiet for a moment, and Celaena took his hand in hers.

So long as they dont know who I amso long as that remains, I shall be fine

A smile spread across Celaenas face, her eyes softening. I am happy for you, Luca, she said, squeezing his hand.
Im afraid that Ive become so cynical that when a faerietale happens in front of me, I cant help but doubt it.

Celaena smiled at Stephaenya, whose face had become alight with joy once again. I suppose that you will go with
him when he leaves?

Stephaenyas mouth opened, and then closed. Luca, the only one standing, now sat down, releasing Celaenas hand.

Of course shell come with me.

Stephaenya blushed deeply, looking down at the table. II have to work here though. I cant just be given a job at
the estateit wouldnt be right, and besides, I have so many things to

Lucas hand clamped around her slender one, and Stephaenyas breathing seemed to quicken. The youth looked at
her hand, calloused and stained with dyes, and leaned forward across the table. I dont want you working ever
again, he said gently, placing his other hand on top of hers. Stephaenyas chestnut eyes rose to look at his, her long,
thick lashes sweeping upwards towards her brows. Slowly, a smile formed on her lips, and she cocked her head to the
side as her eyes lined with silver.

Luca swallowed, his eyes widening slightly. Will you, he said quietly, and swallowed again. Will you

Yes, Stephaenya said, her voice barely more than a whisper as she nodded her head, tears slipping down her face.
Yes.

Celaena did not deny the feelings of jealousy that arose in her breast as Luca and Stephaenya began to laugh, and
embraced over the table. They moved far enough apart to look at each others faces, and then broke out laughing
again, both now crying unabashedly. Celaena, feeling more than a bit awkward, and feeling as if she had been placed
into a cheap novel, looked to Leighanna for help, but found the old woman to only be chuckling to herself, her eyes
also moist.

When Luca and Stephaenya released, the youth looked at the old woman. Will you come with us? Will you join us
tomorrow? And you, Cindrillion, Luca said, looking towards the doorway, will you also come?

Where did she come from? And where is my invitation?

Leighanna shook her head. There can only be one cook in each household, and Im not exactly willing to share my
domain with someone, let alone put them out on the street.

But Im sure that the Baron

Ill be just down the roadyoull visit me plenty, Im sure! The old woman said, nodding her head curtly.

I must agree with Leighanna, Cindrillion said, drifting into the kitchen, her blue eyes rimmed with red. This is my
homeand thankfully its location allows for us to visit each other often! Celaena rested her head on a propped hand
as Cindrillion took a seat next to her.

Perhaps you should consider going, Elentulyai, Cindrillion said, nudging her in the elbows.

And leave you here by yourself? Celaena drawled. Who would assist you with the mice and birds?

With what? Cindrillion asked.

Celaena blinked. With youranimal friends.

Cindrillion looked at Stephaenya, who shrugged. I should hope that there are no mice in my room! Cindrillion said.

Celaena opened her mouth, but Stephaenya interrupted her. It appears that, with your frequent and lengthy
absences, you have missed the departure of our dear, little friends.

Had it really been that long? Had she missed that much? Had Cindrillion truly been acting morenormal?

Before she could question Cindrillion further, someone cleared their throat from the hallway, and four heads turned to
find the Baroness du Tremaine and her two horrible daughters, Joline and Marghenna, standing in the doorway,
batting their eyelashes.

My Lord, the Baroness crooned, sweeping her red dress into the room with a rustle of lace and pearls. Luca nodded
his head politely, and the four companions stood, barely bowing to the Baroness.

Let me first just say what an honor it is to have had you in our household for the past

Eight years, Luca said, his brows rising slightly.

My, how time does fly, the woman replied briskly, a simper appearing on her face. A fan seemed to pop into her
hand, and explode itself into a painting of a shepherd and shepherdess sitting alongside an idyllic brook in a spring
meadow. Have you been introduced to my two daughters? The Baroness continued, urging the two awkward young
women into the room. Celaena and the others contained their amusement as the overly dressed girls entered the
kitchen, trying not to sneer at the dirty surroundings.

This is Marghenna, the eldest, the Baroness said, the grossly fat girl curtsying. All of her make-up did little to cover
her badly blemished and oily skin. Luca nodded again.

And this is Joline, the Baroness motioned at the tall, gawking girl, whose overbite only became more apparent when
she smiled. Her brown hair seemed to be prematurely receding, and Celaena fought to keep her laughter at bay when
she saw the Baroness smile falter. They did wear colors that complimented their pasty skin colors, probably a result
of the Baroness own cunning, but the many frills and tiers did little to hide their unusual bodies.

Celaena felt a spurt of pity for the Baroness. She was not an unattractive womanin fact, she had probably once been
beautifuland she only desired that her daughters manage to find husbands to bring them out of their severe debt.
The Baroness eyes shifted to Celaena, who held her gaze.

I have not seen you around for some time, the woman said, her irritation barely concealed beneath her smile.

As Luca bowed to her two daughters, Celaena returned the womans smile. It is good to hear that milady has missed
me.

Milady, Luca said quickly. I would like to inform you that tomorrow morning, Stephaenya and I are to depart this
household forever.

So soon? The Baroness batted her eyelashes. Im sure that Marghenna would be honored to show you her
embroidery!

The fat girl turned her head to look at her mother, her pimple-covered chin flapping along her ruffled collar as she
gave her a puzzled look. The Baroness was now staring at Stephaenya, her dark eyes like a moonless night.

Im afraid that we must be off as soon as possible, Luca said loudly, a frown appearing on his face.

It is amazinghow quickly the tables can turn at the mere mention of powerWhy, he has them practically begging
for his hand in marriage!

But Joline is so accomplished at the flutetonight you simply must hear her play!

Milady, Luca said, Im afraid that tonight I have a previousengagement with my family.

The Baron did not mention you coming to his house tonight!

I meant this family, Luca said, jerking his head at those standing around the table.

The Baroness gave them all a toothy smile. Yes, but theyre just servants, she said sharply.

Lucas chin raised slightly, a regality spreading across his features that Celaena had not seen since the tournament.
Good day, milady. I thank you for all of your kindness these past eight years.

The Baroness mouth opened and closed, and the two daughters were quick to turn and flee up the stairs in a fit of
moans about how degrading it was to speak to servants, even if they were now nobility. The noblewoman looked at
them all, snorted, her shoulders squaring, and turned from them a moment later, her dress leaving prints in the flour
on the floor as she disappeared up the stairs.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena sat before Maeve on the forest floor, deep in concentration as a delicate vine stretched and bloomed in the
air, weaving itself into intricate patterns.
Good, the Faerie Queen said, and Celaena bit down on her lip, untangling the vine and finally letting it sink back into
the earth from which she had pulled it. Your talents have greatly improved these past few weeksyou should be
pleased with yourself.

Celaena smiled weakly, her exhaustion getting the better of her. With Stephaenya gone, she was now expected to be
at the chateau for the better part of the day, which meant that her nights were occupied with trainingmeaning, she
got barely enough sleep to function. She knew that she could easily leave the chateau and live with the Faein fact,
Maeve and Raonn encouraged her to do sobut, for some reason, she still insisted that it remain her residence. Even
though she no longer needed the Baroness rank to get her into the palace. Even though she could easily complete her
mission at any time. Even though she

Is there something that troubles you?

Celaena sighed. The ball was six days away. She knew what she, as Celaena Sardothien, was expected to do: attend
the ball, find a moment alone with the king, assassinate him, and return to Adarlan for her pardonand freedom. But
as Aelin Galathynius, she was also expected to attend the ball, marking her first public appearance since her birthday
message, and plot with Wendlyn to destroy Adarlan. It was probably best to not go to the ball, to return to Adarlan at
once and salvage what she could of

Everything was so unnecessarily complex! She knew that she was standing at a crossroads, and that she must make a
move soon, but all that she wanted was to remain ambiguous. Besides, she didnt even have a dress. Or a carriage.

Celaena closed her eyes. It was as if she were stumbling around in the dark, looking for something to grasp onto, but
everything she touched was foreign, though she could name it for what it was.

Celaena let out another deep breath, and opened her eyes, staring at the Fae woman before her. She would decide
soon.

No, nothing, she replied to the woman, looking up at the stars overhead. The moon was waning, now just the most
slender of sickles. It was not without satisfaction that she realized that, with the dark of the moon, she would be
entitled to a few nights rest from her Fae training. No one, not even Raonn himself, ventured out into these woods
once the sun went down during the dark of the moon. Dark creatures, things with claws and fangs that only
nightmares could conjure, roamed unchecked then. Celaena had foolishly found herself in the woods during one of the
two nights, and while she had been rescued by an unnamed Fae, the piercing howls and screams of the beasts in the
woods around her had made her blood go cold. There was no way that Maeve would expect her to travel into the
woods after dinner.

Maeve smiled at Celaena, rising from her marble throne. How has your training with Raonn been recently?

Celaena snorted. With the assistance of her magick, trainingfightinghad become far easier for her. In fact, Raonn
had mentioned a few days ago that her training was near completionthe real proof would come when she put her
learning to the test.

As proud of herself as she was, a part of Celaena now hoped to never have to see just how deadly her new skills could
be. She had been the most skilled assassin in Adarlan, and had found the training to be difficult, if not impossible at
times. She had been trained for stealth and cunning, not for endurance and strength, and Celaena dreaded the results
of those two worlds colliding.

Boring, Celaena replied to the Queen, shrugging her shoulders.

Its a pity that my nephew no longer captures your attentionI believe he was growing fond of you.

Celaena chuckled. Im afraid that he has also grown bored with meit seems that Ive learned everything hes had to
teach.

Maeves dark hair was like a velvet cape against the many bubble-shaped lights that floated around Doranelle, and
her violent eyes sparkled. So you believe that youre done with your training?

Celaena bit on her lip, ripping off a piece of dried skin with the side of her teeth. Her physical training certainly felt
complete. And as for her magick
For the past two weeks, she had been focusing primarily on her innate powers, learning how to control and
manipulate its wide range of abilities. It was hard, almost as draining as trekking through the mud with Raonn, but far
more satisfying than any amount of swordplay. In fact, the more she used her magick, the more bitter she became
that she had been denied its presence for so many years. She could now float objects around; make plants grow; heal
not only people, but plants and animals and inanimate objects; as well as conjure rain clouds and winds and make the
forest submit to her will. There were many other fun tricks that she learned, and far more useful ones.

Maeve had explained to her that there were still many aspects of her magick that were undiscovered and untested,
such as why she had the sudden ability to fly without any expertise in the subject, and that the knowledge and ability
to control them would only come with time. She loved her magick, both Fae and Royal Blood, though she still could
not quite make out where one ended and the other began. Her transformation into a Fae woman was now at her
command, and as she could perform the same magickal tasks as one of the Fae, the main difference were her sharper
senses. As Fae, she could immediately tell a strong tree apart from a sick one, when it was going to rain and how
much, what spices were in her food, and other things of that nature. Her power did draw much more from nature as
Fae, but it also came from within. It was nearly impossible to differentiate between the two.

She practiced her abilities back at the chateau: she could summon air to dry not only the laundry and the plates, but
to also sweep out the kitchen. If she had a small source of fire, she could combine elements to make it larger, or to
heat the kitchen during the cold spring nights.

Perhaps it was because of the month of her birth, but Celaenas real fascination was with water. She could estimate
how much water was in something without measuring or seeing it (for instance, how many cups of water Leighanna
had boiled for the soup), and could drain it from a source easily (which then resulted in a puddle somewhere else).
When Leighanna had brought in a bunch of soaking logs for the fire, Celaena had secretly sucked out all of the water
until the wood was dry and burnt like kindlingthough, the water had wound up in their paestia sauce and ruined part
of their meal. In the past few days, she had learned how to make ribbons of water intertwine in the air, and how to
read the clarity of a water source, which would undoubtedly be far more useful than the former skill.

All of these tricks were practiced in secret: whenever she had a moment alone in the kitchen or when no one was
looking, Celaena would test her magick: whether it was to lighten Cindrillions workload or to make the water boil
faster, it was very useful. In fact, it occupied many of the silent hours that Stephaenya and Luca used to fill up with
their chatter.

Luca, like he had said, had left the chateau the morning after the Baron had arrived, taking Stephaenya and
Samsirrion with him, along with the last of Maeves Fae lances. It had been a tearful goodbye between the couple and
their old friends, but Celaena had merely smiled, as relieved as she was still anxious about the situation. It was still so
sudden, so unexpected. Dinner that night had been quiet, yet peaceful. With only three of them, the table seemed
much larger.

Celaena declined the invitation to dine with Luca and Stephaenya (who were now officially engaged, complete with
what Stephaenya had described in her message as an unnecessarily pretty and large ring that belonged to Ghents
grandmother), though Cindrillion and Leighanna did go over to the estate in the carriage that Luca sent over, making
sure that their dining time was well after the Baroness dinner. When the couple came to visit the next day, dressed in
far finer clothes than she had ever seen them, Celaena had never seen either of them so happy.

Apparently, the Baron Ghent had given them both fine rooms and money to buy new clothes, which made them so
uncomfortable that they refused to buy anything. But the Baron, sensing their unease, sent for the tailor and
dressmaker, who soon delivered a few sets of clothes, with more to promise. It seemed, despite their finery, that the
two were the same as they had been long before the Baron had rescued them.

According to Stephaenya, he was as kind a man as Brenn had been cruel, and was unused to having a warm and
interactive family. His former wife (for now the divorce had become official) they said, had spent her days locked in
her chambers or squandering his money on clothes she didnt need or want, and his son had spent his days doing
whatever he pleased in the area. The only one who seemed to have any compassion was his young daughter, not yet
nine years old, who had refused to join her mother and brother in their new estate in the South, and was very sweet
to both her new siblings. The servants immediately warmed to Luca and Stephaenya, especially when they found
them trying to do everything themselves, and informed them that they had never seen the householdor the Baron
in such high spirits.

Celaena could not help but feel an unpleasant surge of jealousy at their newfound happiness. While she was feeling
stranded and utterly confused about her fate, it seemed like Luca and Stephaenya had finally met theirs. It was
moderately sickening to see someones life be turned into a happily-ever-after, but Celaena realized that there were
no other such people on the earth who deserved it more than they.
Yet, as much as she envied them, it was comforting to know that, as Lord and Lady Ghent, her friends would not only
ensure the survival of good nobility, but also would look after Leighanna and Cindrillion long after Celaena departed
from Wendlyns shores.

They had visited every two days or so since they had left, and though it had only been two weeks, one would never
have guessed the many hardships suffered by Luca and Stephaenya for all of the happiness that they had and gave to
others. Luca had already begun to plan for Cindrillion and Leighanna to move from the chateau, though the girl was
still much opposed to it. Try as he might to convince her, Luca could not persuade Cindrillion to leave her fathers
estate. Leighanna, however, had seemed to cave in at the promise of sleeping until noon, though she still insisted that
working was the only right thing for her to do.

The subject of Celaena moving to the chateau remained an unspoken and awkward subject. With any luck, she would
be leaving Wendlyn in less than a week. She knew that a ship sailed in six days, following the same course to Adarlan
that she had followed to Wendlyn. It terrified her just a small bit to know that within a month, she would see Dorian
and the King of Adarlan once again, as either Aelin or Celaenaor bothand six days, after so many months,
suddenly seemed like not enough time.

Celaena stood up and walked with Maeve from the clearing.

Yes, I suppose that I am done with training. Unless there is a huge portion of it that I am missing Celaena at last
replied to Maeve.

Well, there is one more thing that must be done in order for you to have completed it, the Queen responded, her
purple robes moving around her in waves of chiffon and glittering diamonds.

Celaena raised her eyebrows.

There is a tradition amongst the Fae people. Once a young Fae is ready to enter society there is a

Trial. Yes, Raonn told me of it.

So you understand that you will have one based on your abilities?

Celaena felt a bit queasy, but she nodded.

Everyoneall of the Fae and all of the great heroes and royals that I have trained has completed a test of this
nature. Even your parents, young as they were, had a Trial of their own.

Celaena felt a small twinge of pride, and brushed her hair over one shoulder. When is my Trial to be?

Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night! Celaenas eyes bulged from her head, and her mouth gaped open.

You said that you were ready, didnt you?

Yes, but I thought that

A Trial occurs two weeks after your birthday. Tomorrow marks that date.

Celaena frowned, and scratched her head. What is my Trial to be? she asked, her voice low. Maeve stopped walking
and smiled weakly.

Tomorrow, at sundown, you are to go far into the woods and spend the night alone and without shelter.

But tomorrows

The dark of the moon.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 25

The fire crackled and sung before Celaena Sardothien, the only pleasant noise in the slithering, dark forest. From what
the stars could tell her, it was past midnight; and, thankfully, the last few hours had gone by without incident, despite
the moans and hisses that tickled her eardrums. The trees, budding and showing their virgin leaves, seemed gnarled
and dead, like thousands of broken hands reaching up from the wet earth towards the moonless sky.

At first, Celaena had seized the opportunity to utilize her magickal vision in the dark, but she had found the
assortment of twisted and tangled little creatures that were revealed to be crawling around the borders of her camp to
be far more disturbing than shed like. Apparently, the fire both drew and frightened them, and so long as it lasted,
they would not bother her. Still, Celaena had no desire to see the awful things around her, so she had let her magick
rest, and had spent the remainder of her time trying to ignore the seething forest around her.

She had walked into the forest two hours before sunset, given only Goldryn, her bronze shield, and a pack filled with a
bedroll, food, and a change of clothes. She had not been allowed to bring Meiresius, who was actually a birthday
present from Maeve, nor had she been allowed to speak to anyone as she left. Raonn had given an encouraging smile,
as had Maeve, but the assassin could not quell the nausea that arose at the prospective night before her.

Once leaving Doranelle, she frequently cast glances behind her, the Fae city becoming smaller and darker as she
quickly walked through the forest. Maeve had instructed her to go at least four miles from the city, heading East
towards the mountains, and by the time the sun looked like a melted ruby, over the trees, Celaena had become so
lost and so panicked that she set up camp at the next clearing she found. She had hastily made a fire, gathering
enough wood to last her for the night, remembering Maeves first and only warning: do not leave the fire.

It was with some amount of despair and terror that Celaena watched the shadows of the trees lengthen into long
bodies, and she wrapped her cloak tightly around her as a chill crept into the air. The sun seemed to have been
sucked deep down into the earth, for darkness fell swiftly. Celaena sat as close to the fire as she could without
burning herself, Goldryn and her shield nestled beside her. The first hour of darkness had perhaps been the most
nerve-wracking: every noise made her jump, and so she learnedthe hard waywhat sort of creatures lay around
her.

After she realized that her fire was the most important weapon she had, Celaena had begun to relax, even going so
far as to making herself dinner with what food she had been given. It wasnt a feast, but it filled and warmed her
enough to make the increasing cold more bearable. At all times she kept one eye on the area around her, and did not
make a sound as the night progressed, her only company the crackling fire to whom she diligently attended. With
each snarl and groan from the dark world around her, Celaena would find her mind flashing a kaleidoscope of faces
and places that both disturbed and calmed her.

And so the hours had passed, one after the other, the young queen listening to the night sounds around her, growing
tired, but unable to rest. Every falling leap or snapping twig made her jump, and her hand now rested on Goldryns
hilt, her fingers caressing the smooth ridges. Her hair, tied into a long braid, hung limply across her left shoulder, its
end swaying slightly in the wind.

If anything, tonight she should be able to think some things through.

Should I make a list? Draw it in the dirt and work my way through it? It would be a decent way to pass the time

Celaena looked down at the dried dirt in front of her, and sat forward, numbering the first things she wrote down.

The ball: to go? Dress? Transportation? As she was not writing large enough, her words became messes of dirt piles.

Adarlan Dorian Thaelius

Celaena frowned, but then quickly added:

Raonn

A howlhigh-pitched and bone chilling, just as she remembered it from the first night she had been in the woods
broke across the forest, silencing the slithering and snapping noises of smaller, weaker creatures around her. Her
head snapped up, the hair on her arms rising with it as she heard dozens of other howls in response. They seemed
close, too close for comfort.
What had that Fae woman said about these creatures? What were they?

Creatures of the nightthats not useful at all.

Why hadnt Maeve prepared her more? Why had she not been schooled in the monsters that she might face tonight?
Celaenas breath was tight in her throat, and her eyes tried to pierce through the whorls of darkness.

There was a rush of blackblacker than the air around herto her left, and Celaena leapt to her feet, Goldryn nothing
more than a shrill cry as it left its sheath. Another shadow flew past her circle, then another, until panting shapes
whirled around her ring of light. Celaena picked up her shield, the heat of her fire almost intolerable against the back
of her legs. The armor on her chest, forearms, and calves was suddenly not enough. Her heart was now racing, and
she could taste her dinner already in the back of her mouth. Her camp was too small, her fire too weak.

Control yourself, control yourself. You are trained by the Faetrained as an assassinAdarlans assassin, now
deadlier, faster, smarter

Celaenas blood froze and she winced as another howl was emittedjust outside of her clearingso ravenous that
Celaena could almost hear the saliva falling from the beasts mouth. If it were one beast, she could handle it; two,
perhaps, three, maybe

Pairs of green eyesgreen as emerald despite the nightbegan to flicker into view, orbs full of malice and
unquenchable hunger. Celaena, despite herself, could not stop trembling as hundreds of pairs of eyes focused on her.
She was surrounded.

Goldryn was flimsy and light in her hand, and her shield felt like more of a burden than a form of defense. The forest
was a live with snarls and yelps, and above all, the unmistakable, horrible sound of panting, hungry animals. She
didnt dare to use her magick to see these creatures; she didnt dare to draw herself away for the second it would
take to conjure her magick.

Think, think, think! You stupid girl, think of something! Do you want to die like this? Think of the things you have left
to do, things you need to doThink!

Everything she knew disappeared as she saw a long, crooked muzzle slowly stick out from the mass of eyes, testing
the light. Its nose, scarred white and pink, twitched as it moved forward. Her hands gripped Goldryn tighter as she
saw what she could have sworn to be a grin twist across the beasts muzzle before it carefully removed its nose from
the ring, apparently having discovered what it needed to know.

Dont panic, dont panic

Her breathing was sharp in her ears, and a cold sweat trickled down her spine like a mountain stream.

There was another ear-splitting howl, and the many eyes began to move again, circling her camp with a ferocious
pace. Why had they not attacked?

Celaenas answer was given at that moment. With a yelp, one of the forms slipped into the light and then rushed out,
howling.

Wolves, Celaena thought to herself, her dread now consuming her. A whole Clan of them. But why dont they attack?
Are they afraid of the light? Hurt by it?

Celaena had never seen a wolf like it before: it was massive, perhaps the size of a calf, with thick furblack as pitch
and a red, wicked mouth filled with curved fangs. But what really disturbed the assassin were the long claws that
stuck out from its paws like ivory hooks and latched into the ground. The wolfs form seemed to blend into the
darkness with easeits form had seemed drawn to any cluster of black. It seemed to be little more than a shadow of
pain, pain, and more pain.

They continued to circle, creating a dark wind that flushed through her camp. It was not until Celaena found herself
closer to her fire than she should have been that she realized what was happening. They were somehow, someway,
choking the life out of her fire.
Celaena swung Goldryn in the air, her teeth exposed and her eyes wide, unable to stop the swirling mass without
being ripped apart. Her heart was loud above the canine melody, and try as she might to hold onto Goldryn, her
sweating palms were practically oil.

Faster and faster they ran, howling and growling at her, their wicked eyes shimmering in the light, the fire crying out
in anguish as it diminished by the moment

There was now only five feet between Celaena and the pack of wolves, and Celaena knew that there was little she
could do to her fire except for

You fool! Magick! Youve been standing around for minutes like a dolttwo seconds of summoning wont mean your
doom! Strengthen the fire, give it the air it needs!

But as Celaena opened her senses and felt a cold wind lash across her face, there was a scream, wickeder than
anything she had yet heard or would ever hear again in her lifetime. It shattered the noise and sent the wolves
running, their tails between their legs. Against her good judgment, Celaenas eyes opened themselves to the dark
around her, only to find the wolves in retreat, their massive forms sliding through the trees, bending to the forest
around them. The earth around her camp seemed to be moving, as if everything were fleeing far from the fire,
towards the North. There was nothing around her. Not even one crawly, creepy

Goldryn nearly fell from her hand as she saw a wolf limp into her clearing, a cry emitting from her throat. Its eyes
were not as green as the others, and its claws looked like they had been cruelly cut and damaged in a fight. Its
tongue, pink rather than blood red, hung from its mouth, and it let out a horrible, pain-filled whine as it looked at her.

Celaena backed away as it approached, holding Goldryn before her. Her fire had now returned to its original state, and
showed no signs of being disturbed or of disturbing the wolf. There were patches of fur missing on the wolfs sides,
and even though it looked worn and hurt, Celaena circled her fire to place it between them.

It whined again, and followed her, but Celaena continued to avoid it, pacing around the fire. At last, the wolf threw
itself on the dirt with a huff of air that reminded her slightly of Fleetfoot, and Celaena stopped walking as she saw the
paw that it mournfully outstretched.

Someone had stabbed a wicked-looking blade deep into the flesh. It was green like old copper, and though it was thin,
its edges were sharp and cruel. Celaena immediately knew that no Fae or human had wielded the blade. From the
looks of it, the wolf had been tortured, or at least abused until the owner of the blade had either tried to kill it or set it
loose.

Celaena found the wolfs eyes staring into hers, so full of despair, that she could have sworn it was human, and she
let Goldryn lower a little.

The wolf placed his head between its paws, its ears perking up to reveal one ripped and damaged ear, and another
one barely better off.

Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps it was that Celaena, in the moment that she lowered her shield saw the wolfs bushy
tail (also missing half of its length and fur) wag slightly, and for a second, remembered a beaten and starved assassin
being dragged out of Endovier.

In Trasien, there were countless legends of the Wolf Tribes of the North. Of course, they had been more appropriately
named, but Celaena, having heard them only in her childhood, could not recall their proper title. The tribes dwelt deep
in the Staghorn Mountains, living in ancient Halls and Holds, constantly at war with the lesser tribes around them.
Made up of partnerships of humans with massive, horse-sized wolves, the two species dwelt in a semi-magickal state.
Once a human Bonded with a single wolf, they were mates for lifethey ate, slept, and died together, separating only
to pursue their own romantic interests.

While this wolf was nowhere near the size of the breed found in Trasien, perhaps it held some of its mystical qualities
of telepathyWolves had always been magickal creaturesthough those found on the dark of the moon might not

Stop thinking and try it, you imbecile!

Do you understand me, or are you just a beast? she asked quietly, reaching out with her magick as well, and the
wolf raised its head. Her voice sounded strange and weak, but Celaena, nonetheless, lowered herself into a crouch
and stared at the wolf from across the fire.

Do you understand me?

The wolf let out a whoosh of air and seemed to roll its eyes.

If you understand me, she said, her magick gently pulsating through her body, then shake your head.

To her dismay, the wolf did shake his head, though he didnt look happy about it, and Celaena almost fell over.
Control, control

Good, she said, her voice becoming hard. Now, I want you to understand something. I will help you, but if you
even so much as growl at me, Ill cut your head off before you can bite me. Got it?

The dog let out a whiny grumble, and put its head between its paws again. Celaena left her shield where it lay and
slowly, carefully, moved towards the wolf, staying close to the fire. Her pulse quickened as she approached, his fur
becoming mangier and thinner, and his teeth becoming sharper and more broken than they had looked from across
the fire.

The wolf, sensing her discomfort, stretched out its injured paw. Celaena, now two feet away and about to begin
trembling, winced as she saw the infected wound. She had only healed small cuts, not ones so deep and deadly as
this one. Sending out a tendril of magick just as she would to test water and food for dangerous contaminants, she
felt the wound, recoiling slightly as she sensed both the extent of the injury as well as the cause for such pain. It was
only a sliver of a blade, yet one side had been lined with a mild poison made fromfrom some flower or root, and
while it had not killed him immediately, it would soon if the blade was not removed.

Celaena, now close enough to see the wolfs body, realized that these wounds must have been made last month.

Someonesomeone did this to you?

The wolf snorted, and whined slightly. Sending out more tendrils, Celaena inspected the wolfs body, recoiling as she
felt the traces of evil that still lay within its body. It was not human, nor was it animalsomething else, something
she had not yet encountered, had hurt him.

Do you swear on the gods above, who made you despite your sad existence, that you will not harm me if I touch
you? Celaenas brows narrowed. My great-grandmother is Mab, also known as Deaenna, goddess of the huntshe
will have no difficulty in destroying you if you harm me.

The wolf looked towards the sky.

And this is Goldryn, sword of Athril. And Maeve, Queen of the Fae and this forest is my great-aunt. As is Mora, who

The wolf let out a silencing whine that Celaena understood perfectly well.

I can remove the blade and the poison, as well as heal several of your other wounds without touching you, but I may
need to do the bandaging with my hands.

The wolf gave her a look as if to say so what? and closed its eyes.

With a deep breath, Celaena looked at the outstretched paw and reached with her magick to grab hold of the

Celaena let out a pain-filled gasp as her magick touched the blade, Goldryn dropping from her hand. It burned her,
burned her as acid or a flameits evil was unfathomable, its owner horrible, twisted

Valg, she breathed. Oh, I dare not touch this with my magick, she said, more to herself than to the wolf.
Something inside her, something fundamental and pure, knew exactly what the evil was. A few generations of mixed
blood had not diluted the ingrained repulsion started millennia ago. There were Valg in this forest
Dont think about them, think about this wolf, and staying alive for the moment

Celaena reached around to her pack and used Goldryn to slice off to strips of thick cloth from her bedroll. Wrapping
her hands in them, Celaena carefully edged towards the wolf, which opened one eye and whined, and then, slowly,
her hands shaking beneath their coverings, touched the blade. She felt uncomfortable: a sweat broke out on her
brow, and chills raced up and down her spine as the impurity of the blade attempted to enter her body. In a burst of
speed and strength, Celaena pulled the blade clean of the paw, which seemed fragile and soft in her hands, and
immediately threw herself backwards, the shardnot four inches longflying into the fire with a horrible hissing
scream. Celaena and the wolf, who had not moved throughout the ordeal, watched in silence as the fire turned green,
then blue and black, emitting horrible smoke, before the blade disappeared in a poof and the fire returned to normal.

Celaena dragged her canteen of water from beside the fire, her hands still wrapped, and poured it over the wolfs
wounds. As smoke began to rise from the cut, the wolf whined, but did not growl or move. Celaena sensed that the
blades poison had stretched deep into his limb, and so she used her aquatic powers to spread the purifying water up
into the wolfs body. The beasts upper lip pulled back to reveal a dagger-sharp canine, yellowed with age and wear,
and Goldryn was in Celaenas hand before the animal could move its body.

With the blade removed, the rest of the wounds were not so daunting, and after Celaena had gingerly wrapped the
wolfs paw in strips of fabric from her bedroll, and found that her magick was now able to heal the other wounds on
his body without suffering.

By the time the stars revealed that it was one in the morning, Celaena had the wolf bandaged and healed. She now
sat five feet from him, Goldryn in her hands, finding it difficult to alternate keeping track of him while watching the
forest around her.

What would Dorian say if he saw this? Has he even been in such a situation before? He hunts, yes, but during the
day

Suddenly hungry again, Celaena reached into her pack for the last of her food.

The wolf picked up his head, his ears twitching with curiosity.

Celaena took a bite from her apple and looked down at the bread before her. The wolf let out a little whine, its eyes
clearly on the chicken and pepper sausage that was peering out from her bag.

Hungry, are you? she asked, her mouth full. Celaena reached into her bag and cut a piece of the sausage with her
hunting knife. Here, she said, tossing it to the wolf. Id rather have you eat that than me.

The wolf gobbled down the sausage so ravenously that Celaena could not help but give him the five links that
remained in her bag. I hope that doesnt turn your insides into mush, she said to him, a wry smile on her face. The
wolf only finished the last link and licked his lips, and then the ground around him for any fallen pieces.

Celaena flung him the rest of her bread, and watched as the wolfs tail wagged, his patches of bare skin revealing
jutting bones. He had probably not eaten a proper meal in weeks, and his kin had done little to assist him.

Celaena smiled weakly at the wolf, wondering briefly why it was not afraid of the fire, or caused pain by the light, and
let out a deep breath. She jolted forward as she heard the wolf give a bark. He had risen to his feet, his tail wagging,
and let out another bark. Not harsh or hungry, but rather a playful oneone to grab her attention. He jumped back
and forth in front of Celaena, making her nervous enough so that she reached for

Celaena cried aloud as the wolf scooped Goldryn between its large jaws, pranced once before her, and ran from the
clearing.

Celaena had barely a moment to grab her shield, cursing aloud, before she charged after the wolf, leaving the fire.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Her eyes opened up to the night around her, and Celaena plunged through the trees, her magick speeding her feet as
she attempted to keep up with the wolf (whose limp was now gone) and her sword. She knew how foolish her actions
were, but also how valuable Goldryn was, not only to her, but also to Maeve and Raonn andwell, it was probably
something to die for.
Though, hopefully, you wont.

Hopefully.

Celaena knocked aside branches and bushes, her shield still light in her arms, and she let out a grunt as the wolf
made a sharp right at a clearing, and disappeared from sight. Raonn had made her much faster, but even that speed
was not enough to catch the beast.

Still on his trail, Celaenas sharp eyes followed the tracks he had made, through the clearing and into the woods
again, faster and faster, hoping that she could follow the mess she had made back to her fire. She could not stop
realizing that each step she took was a grave mistake, and as Celaena entered another clearing and saw the wolf
cowering, whimpering with its tail between its legs, she felt the full impact of her actions.

Goldryn lay at the base of a massive tree around which the glen had formed, almost lost between the roots that stuck
out from the ground like claws. The tree was massive, somehow already full of leaves, its trunk ten feet in diameter,
and each of its many, many branches seemed to hover like hands, waiting to strike. There was something amiss
about this clearing

The wolf seemed to be hurt, and Celaena carefully approached it, the tree looming overhead. The wolf let out a low-
throated growl, causing Celaena to retreat, keeping one eye on Goldryn and the other on the wolf. Her hand reached
towards the hunting knife strapped into her boot. The beasts teeth suddenly pulled back into a snarl, and Celaena
took several steps back, leaving the knife where it was, her mind frantically trying to find a way to retrieve Goldryn
while not being ripped to shreds, when

WHAM!

Celaena let out a scream of pain as something hard, wooden, and leafy slammed into her side, sending her flying into
the air. The ground collided with her at horrible speed and impact, and Celaena felt the wind knocked out of her as
her breastplate pushed against her chest. Dirt and mud sliced into her face, and explosions of light seemed too cloud
her eyesight.

Celaena, gasping for air, raised her head to stare in terror as a branch from the tree moved back into place and
another rapidly came towards her. Celaena barely had time to roll away as the tree slammed the branch onto the
ground, attempting to crush her like an insect.

What is it? What in Hell is this?

She was on her feet for a moment before another branch swept into her, hitting her in the stomach so hard that a bit
of her dinner came out of her mouth. She was thrown into the air, and this time landed close to the roots, which
seemed to be moving and slithering around. Celaena looked up, frantically searching for help, but found the clearing
to be empty. The wolf had fled.

Celaena, dodging another fist of a branch, scrambled towards the roots where Goldryn still lay. Her hands slipped
against the earth as she sought to rise, and her knees could not move her fast enough to

Celaena cried aloud as the roots lashed out at her like whips, wrapping themselves around her ankles and dragging
her towards the trunk of the tree. Her shield flew from her hands, and her breasts ached as they slammed against her
chestplate.

Celaenas fingers dug into the ground, plowing ten lines of dirt as the roots dragged her towards the tree. She felt her
nails cracking, pulling back painfully as she fought against the immense strength of the tree. When Celaena craned
her neck to see what awaited her at the base of the tree, she began to pivot herself wildly, flipping herself onto her
back and reaching down towards her ankles, her broken and dirt-encrusted nails grabbing at the dark wood.

A face, horrible and twisted with malice sat at the base of the roots, made right from the tree itself. Its mouth
appeared to be the large hole into which the roots were pulling her, and its eyes, bulging and wild, revealed what
would happen to her in there. It was a Draied, a tree spirit of the ancient world. They caught unwary travelers in their
claws and ate them, consuming not only their flesh but also whatever knowledge they had.

Going pale with terror, Celaena frantically grabbed at the roots, screaming as she approached the mouth. She was
now at the base of the tree, the mouth not five feet from her legs. One of the roots moved, and Celaenas wide eyes
followed as she suddenly saw Goldryn fall towards her, landing on a root not too far from the mouth, but too close to
comfort.

Celaena grabbed onto the roots around her, her muscles aching as she tried to pull herself away from the mouth, but
they slapped at her face and cut into her hands so harshly that she let them go. The mouth was now so close, so

Dont die, dont die!

Celaena, in a fit of fury and sheer terror, threw herself upwards, her hands grasping into Goldryn as she was dragged
into the mouth, her feet now in the gaping hole, which was only three feet in diameter. There were no teeth, and no
tongueonly dark, dark, endless dark

You can handle this, just handlehandle!

As the roots released her legs to let her slide into the mouth, Celaena brought the sword down between the mouth of
the hole, throwing herself upwards and catching Goldryns hilt in a knot in the wood. The mouth attempted to close
and widen itself, but, with Goldryn stuck across it like a vice, it could not move.

Dodging the roots as they came flying towards her, Celaena impulsively lashed out with her magick, an idea forming.
She could not harm the tree with her magick without touching its insides, without its willing connection, but if
something were already connected

Throwing herself onto Goldryn, Celaenas hands bled as she grabbed onto the blade and allowed her magick to enter
the sword, which, as it was already in the tree, allowed for it to flow inside. The rage and vile nature of the spirit was
overwhelming, but Celaena, in the blink of an eye, drained all of the water from the tree, causing it to gasp and
sputter. The branches began to crack, and Celaena drained it more, throwing the water as far from the clearing as she
could. The tree tried to lash out at her, to crush her, but Celaena held fast to Goldryn, her legs braced across upper lip
of the mouth, waiting until the tree silenced itself into only the groaning of dried wood.

Celaena, panting, pushed herself from the mouth, drawing Goldryn from its firm position, and rushed away from the
tree, unable to stop herself from vomiting as she collapsed. Her skin was bruised and scraped, and she hissed through
her teeth as dirt and debris rubbed itself against her exposed wounds.

The tree let out a moan, trembling slightly, and crumbled into a pile of sawdust.

Celaena picked up her shield, wincing as she healed her cuts and bruises, and would have begun to run back to her
fire had not the forest suddenly become awash with wind and growling. She was barely more than a foot back into the
treeline when branches began to snap at her, a sharp wind pulling and tossing her to and fro. Her limbs still trembling
from her encounter with the Draied, Celaenas feet stumbled and staggered, her mind trying to grasp onto a single
solid object within her field of vision. Everything was moving, everything was furious and feral and full of ancient,
deep-rooted rage.

She fled towards her trail, and made it ten feet into the forest before the trees themselves began to rip and tear at
her clothing, their hands wild and sharp. They pushed her this way and that, and Celaena struggled to stand as she
ran faster and faster, plants attacking her at every way she turned.

Just stay upright, just stay upright!

The forest was churning, and she felt her magick pump faster into her body as the ground beneath her seemed to
open up like a thousand hungry mouths, trying to catch her feet within their dark, damp jaws.

Dark shapes whipped past her, the world a groaning wicked mess.

Upright, upright!

The trees sliced at her exposed skin and pulled at her hair, and Celaena cried aloud as she fled down a hill unfamiliar
to her, staggering as she desperately tried to remain on her feet. Roots and stones cut into her legs, beating angry
fists against her boots, and Celaena, stupid as she knew it was, sliced away at the branches with Goldryn, trying to
avoid the wrath of the forest spirits.
Faster and faster she ran, the hill making her feet stumble beneath her speed, and Celaena let out a sob of relief as
she saw a clearing in the distance. The trees were throwing everything at her, from their spring blossoms to twigs and
rocks, and the ground seemed to be vomiting up every possible obstacle. Her sword swinging through the air, Celaena
hurled herself towards the clearing, fighting against the forest, which sought to steer her away from it. Her legs
trembled beneath her, and Celaena screamed aloud as she hurled herself through the final line of trees and onto soft,
damp ground.

She crawled blindly forward until she landed in a foot-deep puddle of water, her blinking rapidly at her new
surroundings. Behind her, the forest continued to churn and throw itself around. Obviously, it had not taken well to
the death of the Draied. There was no way back towards her fire until the forest had calmed itself, and even once it
did die down, what then? Would it remember her?

Her breath thick in her throat, Celaena raised herself from the water, which smelled horrible and looked greenish
black in the starlight, and climbed up the small knoll of spongy grass, collecting her weapons to her side as she fought
to calm her nerves. Her blue eyes widened, and Celaena lowered her sword to her side as she looked out across what
appeared to be a massive swamp.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The swamp seemed to go on forever towards the Eastern Mountains, though forest surrounded its other three sides.
Mist clung to the ground, lurking between the broken and dead trees that loomed up from the water-filled crevices
and covered the workings of its denizens. Celaena knew that to enter the forest would be suicide, and that to sit in
one place would mean that something would sooner or later find her, and, as the bog was not the place for finding
wood suitable for a fire

Celaena began to walk down the knoll, her feet sinking into the soft ground. Her best hope was to cross the swamp,
heading for its Southern side. She appeared to be close enough to its borders that walking across at this point looked
narrower than the anywhere else. Two, three miles at most. Perhaps the trees would forget about her. Yes, if she
were to walk around its borders, the forest would be able to follow her. They would lose her across this muddy, rotting
wasteland.

Her nose crinkling at the horrible smell, Celaena carefully picked her way across the swamp, testing for solid ground
with both her magick and Goldryn. It was slow work, and messy: she slipped several times and fell onto, thankfully,
squishy ground, but, as a result coated herself in sticky moisture. She leapt over small pools of water, and walked
around the ones too large, trying to ignore the warning bells that would ring in her head as curtains of mist would part
to reveal a ridged spine or webbed fingers breaking the surface of the water. The starlight was bright enough that her
magickal sight became moderately colorful.

The further she walked into the swamp, keeping track of her position by looking at the stars, the more water
appeared. Soon, she was hopping from island to island, moving as quickly as she could, the sky remaining an
unchanging web of stars and darkness.

This is where all of that water from the Draied must have dropped, she thought dryly, swatting away the insects that
had begun to hover around her. Animals cried out in the night, emitting horrible gurgling noises and squeals that
made it impossible for Celaena to imagine how any normal beast survived these nights.

It took her an hour to cross to the middle of the swamp, which felt more like a ten mile distance than one. As Celaena
was struggling past a cluster of dead trees that were linked together like a little hut, there was a head-splitting noise
from the water beside Celaenas little island. The assassin was knocked off of her feet and Goldryn flew into the water
beside her as a figure bust from the murky swamp, dripping with slime and dirt.

Ah, meat! It said, smacking its lips together and revealing a head so gruesome and hideous that Celaena thought
she would turn instantly to stone.

Gods above and Deaenna protect me! Breathe, breathe! Your sword, your sword, you stupid girl! Get it! Get it or you
will die! Oh, gods above, what is this thing?

Standing over seven feet tall, its eyes were large and dark, lying on either side of a nose was so long and hooked that
it looked like a beak hanging over the rest of its face, and its mouth was barely more than a gaping hole that opened
to reveal long, long, horrible, wicked, nauseating fangs and broken teeth. Strands of black hair draped in greasy
strings behind its elongated pointed ears, and its skin was a wrinkled mess of green and black, coated thoroughly in
what could have been amphibian-like mucus. Its back was humped, and it held its arms at its sides like withered
scythes, stretching forward to display massive hands with reaching, webbed fingers capped in razor-sharp claws. Its
skin hung down upon its body, and as Celaena looked upon its sagging, bony chest, she found, to her dismay, that it
still had the remnants of breasts. It was a she.

Celaena, half-submerged in the cold water, struggled to push herself back, her senses going wild with fear. She could
slay men and tyrants, but notbut not

And what pretty meat I shall feast upon tonight!

Celaenas hands groped frantically in the water for Goldryn, but only found muck and squirming bugs. The monster
surged forward; her claws reaching for Celaenas throat, and the assassin threw herself higher onto the bank her head
banging into an outstretched root. She ignored the exploding stars that burst before her eyes and raised her shield
against the wretched thing, waiting for the blow to come. It took a second, and then another second, for Celaena to
realize that the blow had not come yet. She opened an eye, lowering the shield slightly. The monster seemed to be
staring at her reflection in the bronze surface of the shield, muttering to herself.

So pretty, yes soso pretty the monster said in a high-pitched voice that was as horrible as nails on stone.

Tendrils of a plan locked together. It wouldnt save her life, but it would give her the time she needed.

Its so simple that it has to work. Be brave, be smart

Celaena took a slow, careful step back into the water, the monster retreating slightly, its dark eyes still upon its
reflection. She would have to choose her words carefully.

Her shield still raised, Celaena craftily placed her other hand into the water again, fishing in the many hollows into
which Goldryn could have fallen.

Why, Celaena said in a trembling voice, stopping suddenly as she realized that her long braid was caught in a root
above her. If she were to go any further, she would rip her hair from her head.

Work around it, you can regrow your hair later.

It is so strange to see someone so beautiful in such a place!

Celaenas heart beat against her ribs like terrified hands seeking to escape a cage. If the creature didnt take the bait
now, she would never be able to survive.

But the creature took the bait, and turned her head, dripping slime everywhere, to look at Celaena. Why, yes, it is
quite awful isnt it. But, as you can see, meals come easily. Her voice made the water in the swamp turn a few
degrees colder.

I would hate to think that such a lady would condescend to eat a creature as ugly and bony as I, Celaena said, her
voice growing stronger. Her hand swept rapidly through water, and Celaena raised herself, wincing as her braid pulled
on her head, making sure to keep the shield between them while she offered her hand more searching room.

You take what you can get in such a place.

Yes, but look at yourself! Skin so fair and hands so lovelyyou would greatly disturb your regal appearance to break
my bones apart to find something to eat! I would rather be struck down by-- Celaena considered her choice of words
very carefully, lightning than have my ladyship go to so much trouble over someone as small and hideous as myself!

You cannot help your ugliness, the monster replied bluntly, still staring at her reflection. She batted what seemed to
be eyelashes, a sharp and fang-filled smile spread across her face. Celaena felt like vomiting as she continued to
search for Goldryn. There was no way she could escape this thing without a sword. Why was that sword so prone to
flying from her hand?

I cant die here, I cant be meant to sit in the belly of this monstrosity.

Celaenas heart leapt as her hand clamped onto something hard and rigged.
Oh, thank you Mab and Mora and whoever above!

Your eyes, Celaena continued, inching the sword to her, ignoring the creatures that writhed and rubbed themselves
against her hands, are so beautifully crafted: look at their shape!

I should have been an actress!

Celaenas sword arm moved towards the surface, but too fast. The monsters eyes immediately turned to Celaenas
body, and she let out a shriek of fury that made Celaenas head spin.

Celaena screamed as the monster grabbed onto her feet with dazzling speed, slimy, bony hands cutting into Celaenas
soft flesh as they tried to pull her into the water. But Celaena, well-trained and terrified to the point of desperation,
swung Goldryn up in an arc behind her, slicing the braid from her head in time for her to be dragged forward. Water
rushed up Celaenas nose, and the little water-dwelling creatures darted from Celaenas side as the monster pulled her
into the pond. Celaenas stomach ached as she threw herself forward towards the monster, bending towards her feet.
Her shoulder muscles snapped downwards in a second flash of metal, and the sword came down upon the creatures
arm, cutting it clean from its side in an explosion of black blood.

Fly! Fly! You will die if you dont escape now!

The creature screamed then: a noise so awful that Celaena immediately
scared away the wolves, even from miles away. Celaena hurled herself
poised to sting again as her ears became numb with pain. Her feet sunk
weapons, her nose burned with dirty water, and she fought to keep her
the forest.
recognized it. It had been the cry that had
back onto the bank, sword and shield now
into the peat as she bore the weight of her
vision steady as the screech echoed across

But the creature was not screaming at its missing arm.

Rather, its eyes, after rolling back into its head several times, were looking at Goldryn.

Goldryn! it screamed. Goldryn! You! Kin of Athril, Kin of Maeve!

Celaena pushed herself higher onto the bank, trying to climb up its steep side. Her soaking hair now hung loose
around her face, falling just past her shoulders.

Did they send you here? it cried. Send you to kill old Morghan at last? Im not sorry I betrayed them to the Valg:
Athril betrayed me! He chose that princessthat insufferable, conceited Maeve over me, me, the greatest beauty in
the Fae realm!

Celaenas stomach churned. This woman had been Fae? There was still a way to walk away without a fight, without
being ripped apart

What did they do to you? Celaena cried, trying to look as compassionate as possible.

Look at me! Morghan cried, tipping her head back and letting out another scream to the sky. Celaena thought her
ears would bleed. Her eyes went in and out of focus as the creature screamed again: Look at me!

Morghans head snapped down again, and she began to laugh hysterically. A swamp witch! I, a swamp witch!
Thousands of years of this and thousands of years more! I should kill the Fae, kill them all for driving me to this place
and leaving me here! Morghans eyes turned black again. I will kill you! You are one of them, you bear my loves
sword!
The swamp witch rushed at Celaena, who only had enough time to raise her shield and throw herself towards the
witch, her knees twisting painfully as the peat held her feet within its tight grip. The shield, as Celaena hoped,
slammed into Morghans neck, slicing deep into the flesh, and Celaena felt her stomach rise in her throat as slime,
skin, and blood fell down upon her. Morghan staggered back, her head partially severed on the edge of Celaenas
shield.

Now! Now! Act now!

Morghan screamed again, one last, miserable time that made her blood gurgle out of her mouth like a broken fountain
before Celaena leapt forward, Goldryn in hand, and cleaved the witchs head craning neck. The head, its mouth still
wide in a scream, flew upwards for a moment, its dark eyes turning white as the face viewed the stars before it
dropped into the water like a stone.

Black blood ran down Goldryn and coated Celaenas body, smelling of rank and rotting flesh and earth. The assassin,
trembling violently, turned and ran from the little hollow as Morghans form sunk into the water, dissolving into
bubbling green foam. The smell seemed to follow her no matter how far she distanced herself from the water-filled
hollow, clinging to her with grasping, webbed fingers. She ran, fleeing the swamp witchs watery tomb, until her legs
gave out from beneath her and she collapsed onto an isolated mound of earth.

She was crying, her sobs barely more than gasps for air, and she retched several times, and several times more when
she realized that Morghans blood was still upon her and Goldryn. She rolled around on the clean grass, wiping her
face, her hands, and her armor until she could only smell wet earth. The smell seemed to have caught in the wind and
floated away, a wretched cloud of hate born from millennia of isolation, treachery, and jealousy. Celaena, her senses
clearing, plunged Goldryn into the ground to cleanse the blade, and sat upon the knoll for several more minutes, until
her tears stopped and her labored breathing became the only noise above the sounds of the swamp.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was past three in the morning, and Celaena was exhausted. The southern line of trees never seemed to get any
closer, and her legs, trained and muscular as they were, burned as she trudged across the swamp. Despite her
unending fear that something might fly out of the water at her once again, she had sheathed Goldryn and slung her
shield over her back. The only things that really bothered her were the distance, the obnoxious insects, and the
quickmire.

Since her encounter with the swamp witch, Morghan, Celaena had almost fallen prey to it twice, mistaking it for a
puddle of mud. When her foot had stuckand begun sinking rapidly, she had used all of her strength and magick to
pull herself free. She could only imagine what would have happened had she not only put both feet in the quickmire,
but also all of her weight. As she walked southward, she seemed to run into an entire area of quickmire, with fallen
trees serving as the only spots safe for passage.

Rather than attempt a risky passage around itfor she did not know where the quickmire field ended or began
Celaena painstakingly began to cross the field, walking across one fallen tree trunk to another, well-aware that her
weight could trigger the tree to sink at any moment. There were times when she had to carefully pull herself across a
tree, wrapped around it like a second skin, because her weight on two feet put far too much pressure on one delicate
spot. There were also times when the tree did indeed begin sinking, and Celaena had frantically thrown herself from
one tree to the next. And, of course, there were the times when there were no fallen trees to walk across, and
Celaena had to backtrack and find a different route. She did not mind the slow passage, but it was the silencethe
dead, quivering silencethat surrounded the puddles that disturbed her. It seemed to rise up from the quickmire
itself, reaching towards Celaena with sticky fingers that sought to bring her down, down, down

Eventually, the field of quickmire dwindled into a series of little pools amongst a flat plane of spongy islands, the
sounds of life, however wicked it was, returned, and even though the treacherous mud soon disappeared, Celaena
took heed to not step in any liquid after that point. She knew that her magick could tell her whether it was safe, but
after its failure to alert her to Morghans presence, she decided to trust the instincts that had kept her alive since the
age of eight.

She continued on for another hour, her vision blurring and each step painful and slow. Her hair, caked in mud and,
hung around her shoulders in sticky clumps, and as awful as her situation was, Celaena could not help but mourn the
loss of her long locks, two-thirds of which were now gone. She imagined herself looking like a young boy, or worse, a
manan image that did not provide any motivation to move more swiftly towards safety.

The sunrise had never been so far off, nor had she ever had so much desire for the morning to come. As she pulled
herself onwards, it occurred to her that Maeve had been absurdand cruelto think that a night like this would prove
anything but Celaenas own mortality. In fact, how could Maeve have expected anything but Celaenas sure-death?
Her irritation continued to build with each passing minute, and, very soon, her motive for continuing on was less
about surviving and more about returning to Doranelle to give Maeve a piece of her mind.

In fact, Celaena didnt really know what she planned to do once she escaped the swamp. Would the forest still
remember her and drive her from its shelter? Or would she be able to walk all the way around the border of the
swamp, back towards the North in an attempt to find her original site, if it still remained at all?
These questions began to gnaw at her nerves, and so it was with some relief and confusion that Celaena viewed the
fire that sparkled in the distance. The forest was suddenly very close, and Celaena found new speed for the last leg of
the swamp. She leapt across the little streams that flowed between the marshy islands that she had come to
appreciate and love, nearly crying with relief as the mist at last faded away and a wall of trees loomed overhead.

Could this be her fire? Had she misread the stars for her position? Celaena looked at the sky overhead. She had never
been very good at math, or at reading the sky, and since it seemed to shift during the course of the night, and so it
was entirely possible that she had made a mistake. But then her crossing of the swamp would have made little sense
the forest couldnt have driven her so far away from her camp! No, it could not be her fire, but perhaps there was
another lone traveler

Celaena stepped onto dry ground, pausing as she waited for the forest to attack her once again. Thankfully, nothing
moved. Following the light of the fire in the distance, Celaena began to quickly walk through the forest, careful not to
step on any large, significant-looking plants. The forest seemed to be silent: no animals or unfriendly beings seemed
to hiss and whisper in the dark, and as Celaena approached the fire, she began to understand the reason why.

The fire, as she had both dreaded and hoped, was not empty. There were three voices, one high-pitched like
Morghans, one low and guttural, and another whose range went all over, varying from a tingling whisper to what
Celaena could have sworn was the harsh laugh of a crow. She hid behind a tree, drawing her dirty, smelly, and torn
cloak around her as she got a better look at the three companions.

At first she thought that her exhaustion had clouded her eyes, but as she blinked rapidly, rubbed at them, and finally
began squinting, she realized that the forms were like shadows. Their borders seemed to ripple and reform, and while
they were solid there was something about them that made her think only of wraiths.

Dark, demonic, glass-fanged wraiths

They sat in a large clearing, around a roaring fire on which sat a bubbling, black cauldron. The high-pitched voice
belonged to the smallest figure, which, though it was sitting on a log, appeared to be a good foot shorter than
Celaena. The guttural voice came from the largest form: a hunkering, panting thing that could have been a massive
beast. And the final voice, the one that seemed to shift constantly, came from a slender figure, tall and hunched over
the fire

Though the air was suddenly freezing, Celaena knew that the hair standing up on her arms was from a different
source. She couldnt quite understand what they were sayingit was as if they were slightly muted, as if her ears
were filled with liquid, though their laughter was loud and clear. Celaena, deciding that she had seen enough, took a
step backwards, carefully melting herself into the darkness, just as she had done as an assassin in

Leaving so soon? the high-pitched voice said clearly, and Celaena, her irises surrounded by a pool of white, froze.
The voice traveled down her spine and into her very nerves, hitting against them like pots and pans colliding. Wont
you join us at our fire? It would be rude to leave after eavesdropping. The voice was mocking, cruelthere was
nothing warm or human to it.

But Celaena, knowing that to turn her back on them would be much more dangerous than joining them, removed
herself from the shadows and took a step towards the light. As she neared the fire, the shapes seemed to take a more
solid form, and though her instincts told her to run at top speed in the opposite direction, her curiosity began to
increase as she neared them.

Have a seat, the small one said, and a clawed, wrinkled hand emerged from beneath its cape and pointed at the
fourth log, which seemed to have been left open for a visitor.

I, Celaena said, her voice shaking. The closer she got, the more nauseated she became. There was something very
amiss, there was something fundamentally wrong with these creatures. The thought racked her brain. For some
reason, she felt as if they didnt belong in this world, like they had been made backwards, or inside out, or from
material that did not like its composition or agree with the earth itself. Im afraid that I have a prior engagement and
must be off. I thank you for your hospitality, but I am truly

Are you mad? What sort of jibberish are you spewing? Gather your wits!

Sit. The small form said, and Celaena bit down on the fright that rushed through her like a stampede of wild horses
as she got a clear view of the form. It was an old, old womana crone. Even from beneath her cowl, Celaena could
see the deformed and wrinkled face that lay beneath: her nose sagged over her mouth, just as Morghans did, though
her mouth was a little more than a hole in a mess of wrinkles.

So it was you who killed Morghan. I can smell her on you, the crone said. We thank you for that. She has been a
thorn in my side for so longNow at last we can enter the swamp without her hounding us.

Celaena circled the camp, keeping her distance from both the crone and the slender figure, and took a seat on the
fourth log, directly across the fire from the old woman, trying to ignore the massive beast that had begun to take
shape on the log to her left. Her legs practically gave out from beneath her as she lowered herself, and Goldryn
clanked against the wood in protest.

Celaena did not dare to glance down at her sword, but could not help but wince from the burning pain in her right
side. Goldryns handle seemed to be on fire, its pommel searing against her hip. Chills ran up and down her body, and
Celaena swallowed hard.

Now, the crone said, revealing a set of flashing, dagger-sharp iron teeth, what brings such a pretty little thing into
the woods on the dark of the moon?

Celaenas jaw clenched as the voice echoed in her head. I was traveling home and became lost in the woods at
sunset.

The slender figure seated to her right let out a short laugh. Shes lying, it said in a low voice.

Celaenas heart was now beating so rapidly that she thought it would burst through her chest and run back towards
Doranelle. The figure that had spoken had the form of a man beneath his cloak, though the only feature of his face
that she could make out was his eyes. They were like those of a snake, almond shaped, and with no eyelids to cover
the blazing, glittering amber orbs. He was oldfar older than Morghan or perhaps even Maeve

The crone laughed as well, as did the beast to Celaenas left, which she still did not dare look upon for he was
uncloaked.

Such impudence, the crone cooed. Do you know what we are, girl?

Celaena shook her head, her muscles tensing. Could she escape them, or would running be futile?

You look stupid enough not to know, the crone said, standing from her bench. The other two forms did the same.
We, she said, pushing back her hood, are the Valg.

Celaena thought of screaming, then of vomiting, then of screaming again, but, as she opened her mouth, no sound
came out. She was trembling now, shaking so violently that she had to clamp onto the log to keep from falling off.
The tall figure removed his cowl, revealing a pale, pale face that, except for its eyes, seemed to be constantly moving.
A Shapeshifteraawhat were they called? A Doppelgnger. Maeve had told her about those kinds of Valg: they had
attempted to spy upon Fae camps by transforming themselves into Fae, and could take the form of anything on the
earth, so long as it had seen it with its own eyes.

Celaena then looked at the figure to her left, a strangled cry coming out of her throat. It had the upper body of a
man, though its head was large and its face flat, with curving horns protruding from the crown of its skull and twisting
upwards, and its lower body was that of a goat. Its two legs, complete with knees that bent backwards, were covered
in fur and ended in cloven hooves. As terrified as Celaena was, she could not help but blush at the phallus that the fur
and the beast did little to hide as it stared at her, panting.

It was a Satyr, a general foot soldier of the Valg. They cared for only three things: raping, killing, and eating, though
the combinations order tended to vary.

Celaenas brain felt like lightning. Perhaps she could talk her way out of this.

WhyI thought that all of you had been banished back to your world, she said, her voice strong, despite her nerves.

All of them were, save for a handful of our kind that had been in the mountains when the banishment occurred: we
were trapped here, and now this wretched planet is our home, the crone said, sitting down.
The Doppelgnger sat down too, as did the Satyr, who continued to stare at Celaena with a slack jaw.

And now, the crone said, I am sorry, but weve made this stewand weve been waiting all night for something to
complete it

Celaena drew Goldryn, leaping to her feet.

The three Valg let out a cry, flinging themselves backwards as they leapt to their feet again.

Goldryn! the Doppelgnger screamed in fury and disbelief. Goldryn!

Celaena glanced at her sword, mildly pleased that Athrils weapon had had the opportunity to become so well known
in the Valg and demon world. The sword was now moderately warm, and Celaena was shocked to find that a golden
light seemed to shimmer at the edges of the blade, rippling towards the Valg as if it sought to touch them. This had
not been a sword for a heroit had been a sword to slay the Valg.

Celaena swung her shield onto her arm, and raised Goldryn above her like a scorpions tail, waiting to sting.

Killer of Valg! the Doppelgnger screamed. Murderer! Curse Athril, curse all the Fae! Goldryns golden shimmer
wrapped itself around Celaenas hand, warming and comforting her, despite her flayed nerves. The Satyr bellowed his
anger, a bestial roar emitting from his throat. The Doppelgnger took a step towards Celaena, but the crone stopped
him.

Wait! she screeched, pointing a claw at Celaena. Wait!

Celaena took a step back, swinging Goldryn in her hand.

I know you! the crone said, and then burst into laughter. Oh, I know this one!

The Doppelgnger turned towards the crone. What difference does it makelet me rip her apart!

Oh, oh, noyou should know this girl as well, my old friend.

The crone smiled broadly, revealing her iron fangs once again.

The Doppelgngers silence told her to continue. Celaena stared at them, wide-eyed, not daring to move.

Do you rememberit must have been abouttwenty-eight years agothat foolish young couple that strayed into our
camp? The boy was firstremember him? We had him bound and in a cage before he could blink. And then that girl
showed upwith golden hair, and the blue eyes of those hateful royalsOh, she was lovely, but she was so, so crafty!
Why, she sang and danced us all to sleep, and then freed the boy! We woke up and found them gone!

A slow smile spread across the Doppelgngers face, only disturbed by his rippling features.

It seems, the crone said, that those mortal idiots had a child.

Celaena took another step back, her blood like ice. Goldryn burned brighter, the blade lost within its glittering light.

Please protect me, please, please, please protect me

Tell me, child, the crone barked, how are your parents?

Theyre dead, Celaena snapped, still retreating.

What a pity. Is that why you are here? To finish what your fool of a father could not do?

Despite her situation, a sharp fury sliced into Celaenas stomach.

My friend, the crone said, turning towards the Satyr, who was still watching Celaena with greedy eyes, do as you
please with her.

There was a roar, and before Celaena could ready herself, the Satyr slammed into her shield, sending her staggering
back. He came at her again, and Celaena only had time to shield herself, her arms trembling as his weight barreled
into her. Again and again he came at her, and each time she met him with her shield, losing more and more ground.
She steadied herself, waiting for another rush, and rolled him off her shield another time, her body twisting painfully
as he sought to rip the shield from her arm.

She retreated, one-two-three-four-five steps, one behind the other as she put herself sideways, her shield only facing
the Satyr. His fur was ruby-red in the fire, and his horns seemed to swallow the light around him. He swiped at her
with a massive hand, which Celaena deflected, ducking her head behind the shield. She retreated again, ignoring the
laughter of the Doppelgnger and the crone.

So much for finishing your fathers work! the Doppelgnger sneered, and Celaena took another blow upon her
shield, the bronze denting beneath the Satyrs furry hands. No matter how hard she tried to get away from him, he
was still too big, too strong.

You are an assassin and an heir of Mab! You are not fighting unprepared!

Goldryn erupted in a new wave of light, and wrapped its aura past her elbow.

She rushed to meet him as he began his next assault, but instead of neutralizing his blow, the Satyr caught a hold of
her shield flipped her onto the ground. Her arm loosened its hold and the shield went flying, twisting her skin and
muscles as it soared towards the fire.

Celaena scrambled to her feet, trying to ignore his approaching mid-section, and screamed aloud as another dark
shape rushed past her and into the Satyrs path. It latched onto the Satyrs arm, growling ferociously, and the
monster stopped its assault to hurl the beast to the ground.

With shock and relief, Celaena watched as a wolf, complete with a bandaged paw and missing fur, launched itself at
the Satyr again, foam dripping from its red jaws as it leapt onto its back and bit down on the monsters neck.

The Satyr reached around, furious, and grabbed the beast by the scruff, detaching the wolf from its bleeding neck
before throwing it onto the ground with crushing force. Celaena winced, fury rising through her as the wolf whimpered
in pain, but the animal charged again as the Satyr moved towards Celaena, this time ripping off the Valgs phallus in a
squirt of blood. A roar of agonized rage echoed through the clearing, and Celaena gulped down air as the monster
bent over in pain.

The Doppelgnger was still laughing. In fact, it seemed that these were the same Valg that had tortured the wolf in
the first place. The poor animal had probably strayed into their camp, just as Celaena had

The Satyr grabbed the wolf, and Celaena cried out as the Valg monster took the beasts body in its hands and
snapped it in two, its bones making a horrible crunch. The wolf let out a whimper before its green eyes dimmed, its
tongue sagged from its mouth, and it did not move again.

Something stirred in Celaena that was more than survival instinct and less than rageit fell within the gray area of
recklessness and determination, coursing through Celaenas nerves to replace blood with iron.

Her shield too close to the Doppelgnger to be of use, Celaena drew her hunting knife from her leg, which she had
foolishly forgotten while fighting Morghan, and held it in her left hand as she dropped into a defensive crouch, raising
Goldryn above her head again like a line of fire. Injured and bleeding, the Satyr now looked like a stupid barn animal.
Without its sexual drive, the beast was just that.

She held her knife before her like a shield, slicing through the air to show its deadly capacity to the Satyr.

They circled each other, Celaenas feet retreating sideways, one after the other, like a drum, as she kept her eyes
locked on the Satyrs twisted face. Her heels crunched against the ground as she pounded them to steady herself,
calming her nerves with their impact on solid ground. She had trained with Raonn, and had she not been Adarlans
assassin for nothing.
They circled twice, Celaenas eyes now sparkling. Just a few blows and it would be rendered dead.

The Satyr charged, and Celaena was ready. She dodged him, slicing her knife down into his arm as she passed, and
then quickly turned, her speed giving her strength as Goldryn sliced down through the back of the monster, sinking in
through the shoulder. Goldryn turned into a strand of fire, and as the Satyr groaned, falling to its knees, Celaena used
her speed to strike again, this time into its side. Goldryn broke its bones with several crunches, but Celaena withdrew
it before the beast, making a blind swipe at Celaena, could let out another roar of pain. Looking at the dead wolf for
only a moment, Celaena struck again through the back, then through the leg, and the arm, and then once more, one
final time, through the back of its neck, Goldryn shimmering as it broke through the thick hide and protruded beneath
the beasts chin.

The Satyr gave a moan as it died, its eyes rolling back in its head, and it fell forward onto the ground like a tree,
blood pooling on the dry earth.

Celaena looked at herself, now coated in yet another beasts blood, and began to catch her breath, withdrawing
Goldryn from the corpse.

She looked at the remaining two Valg, who were silent though their eyes boiled with hate.

I will leave you now, and you will not follow me, she commanded, walking towards the Doppelgnger to retrieve her
shield.

But the Shapeshifter stood, its mouth opening to reveal a forked tongue. Oh, no, girl, it hissed. You arent leaving
this clearing nownot alive, or dead.

It threw back its cape, revealing a form that was twisting into something she couldnt yet place. Im going to rip you
limb from limb, he continued, a claw appearing on one of his glowing feet.

What do you fear? he questioned, his voice cold and slicing down her back. He Shifted, suddenly, like bolt of
lightning, turning into a roaring leopard; and then he Shifted again, suddenly a massive bear; then a striking, hissing
snake; and then into a snarling wolf, and then into the horrible mountain-dwelling Roc, flapping its wings a few times
before he Shifted into a form that she knew well, but suddenly seemed very alien to her.

Let me get inside your mind, to what you really fear she found her exact copy saying to herself, though her voice
was still that of the Doppelgnger. Seeing herself was strange for many reasons, though Celaena did not allow herself
to dwell on them.

The Doppelgnger then Shifted into her father, and then her mother, causing bolts of pain to be hammered into
Celaenas heart, though she did momentarily remark on how similar she looked to her mother, and how much her
fathers chin did really belong to her.

He then Shifted into a Satyr, then into Morghan, and Celaena, doing the only smart thing she had done, sheathed
Goldryn and ran for it.

The crashing noises through the trees announced that the Doppelgnger was following her. Celaena ran faster than
she had ever in her life, leaping over fallen trees and rocks, her feet barely touching the ground as she used hanging
branches to propel herself forward just as she had done with the parallel bars.

She didnt know how she exactly planned to defeat the Doppelgnger, and she knew that it would never stop chasing
her until it killed her. She had used sheer nerve and strength to defeat the Satyr, but she would need her wits to
destroy the Doppelgnger.

Her breath was ragged in her throat, for she had not slept in a day, but Celaena continued on, the Doppelgnger
charging after her in a fit of snarls that made her think of a horrible mountain cat.

She turned left, and plunged forward, suddenly finding her path from before. She had come this way from the swa

The swamp!
Her mind was ablaze with thought as she ran faster, ignoring the branches as they cut at her face and body, hurling
herself through thorns and brambles. Fifteen feet away, she saw the Doppelgnger running parallel to her, now in the
form of a white wolf.

The crone made it seem like they had not entered the swamp for a whileMorghan had kept them out of it. If they
didnt know the swamp, then they didnt know about its dangers, its current geography

Celaenas knees buckled as she flung herself onto the soft grass of the swamp, staggering as she continued on, the
force of her speed propelling her back into flight. She would have to work him into a frenzy, keep him running long
enough to suspect that she didnt know where she was going

Celaenas magick gave her a burst of speed as she headed eastwards, looking at the stars and begging them not to
move too much while she ran. She kept one eye upon the Doppelgnger who, as a spotted, slender cat was running
quite fast behind her, not caring as he sloshed through puddles and across trees. She would have to bait him to make
him stupid and rash

For the first time since the sun had set, Celaena found that the forest might actually be attempting to help her. The
ground was hardening beneath her feet, and Celaena watched in awe as dangerous obstacles seemed to shrink into
the water, replaced by earthy mounds.

If the earth was working with her, then perhaps she might have a chance.

She made a sharp turn to the North, too preoccupied with keeping track of her direction to think of all the people
shed miss if she died. Celaena knew that the Doppelgnger could easily turn into a bird and catch her, or could even
easily outrun her, but she also knew that the chase was what interested him. So long as she kept him interested, it
would work

She turned again, now going southwest, her magick telling her what spots were safe and what were not, when to run
and when to jump or duck or start praying. The Doppelgnger, it seemed, was having more trouble than she was:
where her ground was dry, his turned into a slush of grass and rocks. The earth, like Celaena, was repulsed by his
very presence.

She made another turn, the Doppelgnger now a reptilian-wolf hybrid that she could not name, and allowed herself to
stagger. She could hear the Doppelgngers labored breathing, and knew that his senses were rippling with pleasure
as her feet caught on the ground. Celaena stuck out her arm and sliced herself against a fallen tree, her blood flying
into the wind, giving him a taste of what was to come.

The large field loomed before her, and Celaena, her legs now pushed to the limit, leapt forward, landing onto an
island, then jumping to another, then finally throwing herself onto a fallen tree over a large body of what looked like
water.

The Doppelgnger, by now so enraged and hungry that he did not look at the wet ground beneath him, hurled himself
into the water as what Celaena would later learn was a crocogatile. She inched herself forward, pulling herself as fast
as she could as the Doppelgnger snapped its long beak at her, sharp teeth barely inches from her hair, and Celaena
scurried across the tree before hurling herself onto a bank and running again.

It was only when she did not hear the Doppelgnger behind her that she stopped running, sweat dripping down her
face. She felt cold and sick, a feeling similar to the sensation of not eating in days. She heard him screaming, and
took her time as she walked to where he had become stuck, now in the form of a bear. His massive brown arms were
wrapped around the tree trunk at the edge of the pool, though the tree, dead and rotted, soon snapped in two, and
the bear sunk even further into the quickmire.

You horrible girl! it screamed, and Shifted into a birdand thus found himself even further into the water. He
Shifted back into a bear and tried to claw himself out of the water, sinking by the second. He Shifted into Morghan,
who seemed to sink even further. You wretched girl, you deceiving girl! Morghan screamed at her, the
Doppelgngers voice now full of panic.

Celaena watched as the Doppelgnger sunk to its chest, its arms flailing about.

Goldryn sung as she pulled it from its sheath, casting golden light upon the Doppelgnger, whose amber, slitted eyes
went wide with fear.
Girl, it pleaded. Sweet girl, if you help me, I promise you that I will teach you my secretsthe world will be at your
command! You can spy upon your enemies and your friends, you can be anything you desire!

Celaena raised her eyebrows. At the moment, all she desired was a bed, a meal, and the dawn to come. The
Doppelgnger was now up to its shoulders.

She took a step forward, knowing that there was only one way that she could be sure of its death. Goldryn rose into
the air, and Celaenas eyes burned with disgust as the creature began to scream, Shifting rapidly into a bird, a fox,
sea creaturesoon it became just a blur of fur and scales and teeth.

With a horrible screech, the Doppelgnger sank to its neck, and Celaena struck, Goldryn lashing out across the pond
as she squatted on its edge, its headin the form of a massive serpentfalling from its neck and landing in the
quickmire, sinking quickly beneath the brown, bubbling surface. Celaena fell back onto the grass, her breath harsh in
her throat, Goldryn dropping onto the ground beside her, its golden sheen gone.

She was bleeding everywhere: her face, arms, legsthe only parts that were not sore or stinging were the parts her
armor protected, though they were now so covered in both her blood and that of others that it barely made any
difference. She needed to rest, to gather her nerves to her again, to restand restand rest. Aside from the night of
her own near-assassination and the battle of Peregrinno, she had never felt so many consecutive hours of fear,
exhaustion, and more fear.

She was well over her headin fact, she probably should have been dead. She did manage to find a sliver of
satisfaction in the extreme improbability of her own survival, in the outrageous ways that she had managed to outwit
and outdo the slew of dangers she had faced.

Celaena looked at her hands, counting, the mud that caked her short hair now falling onto the ground. The wolves,
the Draied, the forest, Morghan, the quickmire, the Satyr, the Doppelgnger, and now

Celaena felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. This is what Maeve had intended: a set of three Valg to test everything
she had: brawn, cunning, and magick.

She rose to her feet, knowing that she would never gain any energy back until she had slept for a day, and sheathed
Goldryn. It was with a heavy heart, and little hope for survival, that Celaena trudged back across the swamp,
following the fire in the distance, to face the crone.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The crone cackled as Celaena entered the clearing, her eyes dark, yet unclouded. She could barely standeven
Goldryn felt like a burden at her side. Across the clearing lay the corpses of the Satyr and the wolf, blood still pooling
around them.

So, youve killed my Satyr, and my DoppelgngerI suppose that you now want to kill me.

Celaena nodded her head curtly, keeping her eyes upon the crone, who was playing with her long silver plait. The
crone rolled her neck, revealing layers of peeling wrinkled skin. I am tired of this silly world, the crone chuckled. It
seems that you mortals have managed to destroy it for yourselves without our help. I pity Maeve for itso
diminished, so scheming.

Celaena ignored Goldryns sudden burst of heat, and frowned.

I know that youre here on your Trial, girl, the crone continued, standing. And it is a pity that your parents are dead
your mother was smart, probably smarter than you will ever be, though I suspect that she would be proud of you
for tricking my Doppelgnger. Most of your sort only slay one of us: had you survived tonight, you would have been
received as a hero.

A cold wind began to rush past Celaena, and the crones black shawl fluttered around her withered form.

What is your name? the crones voice seemed tired, though Celaena could sense the mockery behind it.

What difference does it make? Celaena replied, her brows lowering.

I want to know what to write above your grave, the crone laughed.

Celaena merely stood still, her chin raised. The wind increased, and Celaena felt her magick stir in her blood.

Are you a princess? the crone inquired, still laughing.

I am what I am, Celaena said quietly, watching the crone step away from her bench and face Celaena in the
clearing.

It would be easiest if you just let me kill you, the crone said, flashing her iron teeth at Celaena.

I could say the same, Celaena retorted.

The crone laughed, a dark mist gathering around her hands as she stretched them forth, and Celaena took a step
back as she sensed the wickedness brewing within them.

There was only way to defend herself against the crone, only one way to keep herself from being turned into a pile of
ashes.

A space in Celaenas mind began to open up, and the sound of a gale filled her ears. The forest had helped her in the
swampperhaps it would at last give itself to her. Reaching outwards like a net, Celaena drew forth what she
imagined in her minds eye to be the glowing center of trees, of plants, of animals. She sucked them into herself with
growing speed, her net casting further and further out. Debris whipped at her feet as a wind screamed around her.

The crone was now enveloped in a horrible dark mass, her hands raised to the sky.

Celaena drew forth her power, reaching, as Maeve had said, into realms unknown to her. She hardened it into a small
ball, an orb waiting for her to spring it free, her short hair lashing in the air above her. Summoning her magick with
such speed unnerved her, and Celaena could not help but compare her situation to that of a child swinging a sword far
too heavy and large for it to wield.

With a scream of fury, the Valg hurled her magick at Celaena, and it came at her in a dark mass spotted with
lightning. Celaenas hands flew out in front of her and the magick that she had been gathering exploded, creating an
instant shield. Light erupted into the glen, and Celaena was thrown back by the two colliding forces, momentarily
blinded and drained. But she kept her magick before her, her body temperature rising and falling as she touched the
Valg magick. It was awful, like meeting Despair and Hatred themselves, and a metallic taste entered her mouth.

The crone stopped her attack, and Celaena barely had time to drop her shield and create another one as the woman
sent what looked like a flock of shadowy ravens at her, their beaks razor sharp. Celaenas magick lashed out in arcs
and ribbons, slicing the magickal birds in half.

There was another assault, and Celaenas fingers splayed as she summoned the fire to her, burning a hole through
the crones dark cloud. Her mind was reeling: there was no way that she could survive this. She had no idea what to
do.

Celaena hurled a waterfall of white light at the crone, who merely batted it aside. Panting, Celaenas knees began to
buckle. Aelin or Celaena Sardothien, there was no way to win, there was no possible way out of this.

Her eyes burned from the clashing light in the glen, and tears ran down her cheeks as the crone sent another blast of
dark magick at her, Celaenas shield so weak that it disappeared as first contact. A cry ripped from the dark inside of
Celaenas being as the black magick seared into her breast, pinning her against a tree as it tried to work its way into
her mind and body. The magick stopped, and Celaena fell forward, only to be hurled into the ground, roaring in pain.
It was as if every part of her body were on fire, but also frozen in ice. Everything hurt and stung and broke, and her
vision blurred.

The crone stopped her assault, cackling. What a pity that you had to die like this, she said, and Celaena screamed
again as the magick ripped across her frame.

Celaena saw faces pass across her eyes, and as the magick stopped its assault, she could have sworn that she heard
a falcon screech.
Everything was slowing down, her joints howled in pain from the slightest movement. Even her blood, laced with
streaks of magick, groaned in pain as it moved through her body. This was the end.

Youve lived side-by-side with death for fifteen years, you should not fear it so.

Iif I beat that assassin, and I beat Kaltain, and I beat Adarlan at Peregrinno and I beat the Barons son, and I beat
all of these wretched creaturesif I beat all of them, was this supposed to be the culmination of my efforts?

Celaena felt warm blood surge up into her mouth, her eyes going out of focus.

Is this

She groaned, her legs beginning to spasm with pain.

Is this the end?

She suddenly saw Dorians face, beautiful and glowing, appear before her, his eyes set on a sight far from her
deteriorating body. He was laughing, his golden skin lit up with amusement, and his azure eyes sparkled with joy. He
loved her, he loved her and she would never get to hear it from his lips.

It was suddenly so sad, so sad and tragic that her eyes stung.

Again, magick ripped across her body, and Celaenas world went black for a moment as her muscles splayed
themselves. The assault over, Celaena lay as she had, panting, Goldryn burning at her side, unable to move.

She was dying.

She was dying and she would never be able to see his face again, or that of anyone she cared about. She was dying
and the throne would never be hers to rule, nor that other territory over which she hoped to also be monarch, and the
empire would go on forever, a lost and rotting world that would spread like a disease across oceans and borders

Help me, she suddenly sobbed onto the ground, blood spilling from the corners of her mouth. Oh, please, she
whispered, her face distorted, help me.

What are you saying? the crone asked, but Celaena was not listening. She stared at the ground in front of her, too
weak to move. She was dying.

Everything was so, so sloweven the slightest movement felt as if it broke something new within her body. She was
dying. Tears ran across her face, pooling in the dirt.

Aelin, she heard a mans voice say, firm, but distant. Aelin, get up.

The crone was cackling, and Celaena knew that she was preparing for the finishing blow that would rip her to shreds.

Aelin, the voice said again, pleading, get up. She knew the voice, she had heard it before.

The magick that the Valg sucked into herself began to pull Celaena in as well, as if she were little more than a leaf
caught in the wind. From far away, it sounded as if two people were having a conversation. Celaena closed her eyes,
her breathing unsteady and wet with blood.

Look at me! the female voice yelled, Im halfway to Deaths Door! Ive got cuts all over me, my knee is broken in
five places, I cant feel my skin anymore, my head is throbbing, and this armor is so heavy that my body cant take it
anymore! I want to go inside! Im going to get sick!

I dont believe that youre in half as much pain as you think you are, the man replied calmly, the same voice she
had heard in her head. Your knee is not broken in the least, and as for all of the cuts and bruises on your bodyI
think that theyre only minor.

It was rainingor it was in their conversation. It was raining. It was raining.

Celaenas pupils dilated, and she felt a wet wind lash against her face. It was raining. She would never be able to
outdo the Valg in a test of magick, but in one, smart blow

Aelin, the mans voice begged.

Celaenas fingers curled upwards, digging into the dirt. One, smart blow, one strike

What is one more fight, one more being to destroy on my path?

She swallowed the blood in her mouth as clouds appeared overhead, rumbling with thunder. The crone, thinking them
to be of her own bidding, ignored them.

Get up. Get up.

Celaena let the storm build, churning overhead, draining the last of her energy, the last strength she had to see and
breath and hear and smell, into it. It would be only one chance, one strike

This is not the end.

Send my regards to your parents, the Valg woman said, and stretched forth her fingers to release her magick.

Rage, defiance, and desperation surged in Celaena, and she let her magick snap loose.

Please, please

There was a deafening boom, and then a horrible crack, and Celaena shut her eyes as she felt the lightning strike the
crone. She felt it burn through the monster, shattering her bones and then her magick, and then explode outwards,
the Valg creature flying apart in a mess of aged flesh and blue blood.

Celaena, her strength and will spent, did not remark on the crones death, nor on the fact that the stars in the now-
clear sky revealed that dawn was not more than an hour away, as she collapsed completely onto the ground, Goldryn
cold and colorless at her side.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena opened her eyes to a dreamscape that she had never seen before. A violet sky hung overhead, speckled with
more stars than she had ever seen. The air was still and quiet, though she could sense the life teeming all around her.
She was lying face-first on the ground, though she was no longer in a clearing. Rather, it seemed like she was on a
flat mountaintop, nothing behind her but miles and miles of flat land, and nothing before her but a slender strip of
rocknot five feet wide and as smooth as pavementthat stretched out into what seemed to be the sky itself.

She raised herself to her feet, expecting to find pain but discovering that her wounds and exhaustion were gone.
Someone seemed to be further down the strip of rockso far into the horizon that she could barely make it out to be
more than a shadow.

Celaena took a step onto the bridge, gasping as the mountain behind her vanished into an endless strip identical to
the one she was on. Celaena looked over the edge, finding only stars and the distant roar of the sea hundreds of miles
below. Vertigo overcame her and she shuffled back into the center of the bridge, swallowing hard.

She took another step, blinking rapidly as the star in front of her did not fade into the background, but rather sparkled
before her face, a pulsating little orb of white and blue and red. With a steady hand, Celaena reached out to the little
star and touched it, her eyes glowing with pleasure as it warmed her hand before zooming away. To her left, there
was another star, which she also touched, and then another, and another.

Celaena tried to catch them in her hands, but they seemed prone to vanishing or flitting away, so she soon just
admired their unlikely size and presence and kept on walking, trying to find the other figure.

She didnt know why she was following it, but there was something odd, something comforting in a dream-like
sensibility that urged her to track it, to watch its progress along the bridge. She wanted to talk to it, to find out what
it was doing on this lonesome strip of land, to see if it had seen the marvelous stars and the endless darkness around
them.

She saw the figure again as she continued down the bridgeit seemed to be dancing along the horizon, and then
Celaena, before she could call out, witnessed the most astonishing sights that she had ever viewed. The stars all
began to move, as if they too were dancing, and flew around the bridge in shapes, like a flock of birds or a wave, a
million indescribably beautiful and captivating jewels.

Celaena, delighted, laughed, and laughed again as she heard what she could have sworn as music from a grand dance
or theatre halllike a waltz, but smarter, more spontaneous, more impressive.

Her head began to bounce to the music as she walked along, the stars dancing and whirling around. The figure up
ahead seemed to be conducting them, controlling their motions. Celaenas face lit up as spiral galaxy shot past her, its
arms touching her face like a lovers caress.

All of the universe seemed to be here, at her fingertips, and Celaena, overwhelmed with a dreamlike bliss, began to
dance down the bridge, her feet matching the delicate bells and flutes of the music while her arms followed the wide
sweeping parts of the strings and drums. She found that when she desired a star to move, it didand willingly so.

Her fingers pointing and her legs spinning and leaping her about, Celaena danced along, a trail of stars, galaxies,
nebulas, moons, and other celestial objects dancing along with her. She swung her arm in a wide arc, her sparkling
companions following, landing in the places that she dotted out for them. Celaena looked down the side of the ridge,
and raised her arm to move the sea below, laughing aloud as a wave of cold water washed against the rock, foam
flying everywhere. She went to the other side and did the same before she pranced into the middle, raised both arms,
and showered herself with the two colliding walls of water.

Waves of stars and water following her, her feet flew along the smooth stone as she danced, suddenly admiring the
dress she was in. It was made of stars formed in the shape of a single piece of fabric that hung from her as Fae
clothing did, sensual and almost like a nightgown, and flowed like the ocean far below.

It was with extreme delight that that stars formed themselves into the shape of a manbeautiful to behold, so
beautiful that Celaena blushed as she took his hand and let herself be swept away, waltzing down the bridge, her hair
flying around her face like a halo. There was also something familiar about him, something that made her think of an
endless golden light that was both a warning and a comfort, something that made her happy and sorrowful at the
same time. His hands were soft and firm against her body, and his hair, though made of stars and fog, flowed as if he
were underwater. He smiled at her, and his pointed ears were suddenly revealed. She then noticed his attire: armor,
exquisite and utterly unique, which she had seen beforeonce beforebut where? She knew its design perfectly,
knew where it attached and where its strengths were

They spun and dipped, Celaena lost within the face of her partner, whose tender, loving expression had not faltered.
There was a yearning in his eyes that made her worry slightly, as if someone might be upset by his unwavering
attention to her, but Celaena continued to dance, the stars filling her footsteps with their dust.

He eventually faded, leaving Celaena feeling cold and still, but she then saw that the figure in front of her was now
closeand it seemed like it was at the end of the bridge, looking down at the water below. Celaena, eager to impress,
commanded the stars around her to move as they had never before, and she relished in the sudden power that she
had. If only magick afforded her this kind of ability in reality! How lovely it would be to dance with the stars every
night! Beyond the bridge, the sky stretched forever, an endless tomb of darkness and light, of space and matter.

She rushed towards the figure, and suddenly cried aloud as its face turned to her a moment before it stepped over the
edge and fell to the sea below.

She ran to the edge, and found no one. It couldnt have been. Celaena touched her body, running her hands down her
chest and arms. The face had been hers, but sheshe was here.

Celaena straightened, and, sensing that there was something behind her, turned. It was a podium, a small circular
table on which sat a dark crown, glittering with black jewels. It was beautiful in its darkness, and its seemed to pulse
with power. She could not tear her eyes from it. It seemed to her that here, here in this crown, laid all the power to
control not only these stars, but also the world around her. If she wished it, she could reform the earth itself.

Celaena reached out a hand, and withdrew it quickly. She was not supposed to touch it, it was not hers to touch, nor
did it belong to anyone except for the earth. Not even the gods would touch this crown. It was older than everything.
Celaenas eyes widened.

With this, she could destroy empires, not just petty tyrants. With this power, she could erase all the wrong done by
mankind.

Her hand reached out again. No, it was wrong. It was not hers, nor did she desire absolute power.

But the good that it could do!

The crowns pulsing seemed to rise and fall with her chest. She had been born to have the right to take this crown.
She wasnt a tyrantabsolute power would not corrupt her absolutely. She would only use it for good, for good, for
good

Take it.

Celaenas hands rushed out, grabbed the crown, and slammed it down upon her head. Instantly, her gown turned
black as the farthest regions of space and her world expanded infinitely. She could view the smallest planet trillions of
miles away, she could see all the fish in the ocean, all of the people on earth.

Her hand lashed out towards the ground, and a mountain exploded where once air had been. The sea surged up into
the air, and she flung it back down. Renaril appeared beneath her and she pointed a finger, a wicked smile appearing
on her face as it burst into flames. She pointed at Endovier, and then at Callaculla, and then at all of the cities and
death-camps in Adarlan, each of them disappearing in fire and ash.

She saw the corruption in the cities, and more and more of them burned, until even the Opal Tower and Orynth was
nothing more than a pile of ruin.

Celaena was laughing, laughing at her own handiwork, at her own bright, unstoppable future. She collided stars and
galaxies, forming new worlds, her eyes now the color of molten gold, her cackle drowning out the dying stars. The
world groaned and shook, and the waves beat against the bridge, pleading for mercy. But what mercy had the world
shown her? What had anyone done to avoid the death that they deserved? She summoned the crowns power to her,
basking in the dark womb that created the universe, and

It all began to spin, without warning, and Celaena had the awful, dizzying feeling of falling downwards, downwards,
into endless dark

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena opened her eyes, the warm light of dawn just breaking through the trees. Her body was stiff and sore, though
she nearly wept as she saw that all that remained of the crone was a black outline in the dirt. She managed to stand,
and clung to a tree as she saw that the Satyr and the wolf were also just now piles of ash. It was over. It was over,
she was alive, she was aliveshe hadnt died a horrible death involving teeth and claws and soul-shattering magick!

But, for some reason, she had the sinking, awful feeling that she had failed. She didnt understand why but

The crown. I took the crown.

Had that been the true test? If given the choice between absolute power and her own moderate talents, would she
allow for power to seduce her? Would she be bought by promises of infinity and eternal glory?

As Celaena picked up her shield and began to walk due South towards Doranelle, she secretly wished that the night
were still overhead.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena awoke in Doranelle to find her wounds healed and her stomach full. The last thing she remembered was
viewing the great tree before she had fainted, falling straight into a deep sleep.

Youre awake at last, Maeve said, and Celaena turned her head to find the Fae Queen sitting at her bedside.
Surprisingly enough, her face matched her relieved tone of voice.
How long have I

A day, but a long one at that.

Celaena was silent, and she looked around the room. It was small, but beautiful: glassless windows lined three walls
and looked out across the forest, and tapestries hung from the ceilings and partially covered the open doorway
through which she could see all of the interior of the tree.

I failed, Celaena said glumly. I took the crown.

Aelin, Maeve said, her voice quiet and grave, You did not fail. It is I who failed you: I did not anticipate or See any
of what befell you that night. Had I known what you would encounter, I never would have sent you on your Trial.

Celaena did not try to hide the irritation and bitterness and washed through her. I almost diedseven times. Tears
misted over Celaenas eyes as she recalled the Valg, their horrible scent and their laughtershe could still taste the
metallic residue in her mouth when she thought of them. It had been so terrifying, so impossibleMaeve had put her
through that, stupidly, foolishly, cruelly

Which is why I must apologize to you, and also congratulate you. You have excelled far more than I would have
expected, and faced obstacles that few others have experiencedand lived to tell.

Celaena looked away from the queen.

Ill admit that my original task was for you to just go into the woods, be a bit scared by the wolves, but eventually
fall asleep and have the dream which you finally experienced. But you have completed a Trial that does not render
you merely a member of our society, but also a hero.

Hero? Hero?

She could smell her own burning flesh, hear the crackling of lightning and feel the denizens of the swamp brushing
against her body. She was exposed, exposed and weak and tiredshe needed to rest, to find safety again, to lay
down Goldryn for some time

Celaena shook her head, trembling again. I do not wish to speak to you, she said quietly, unable to stop herself.
There was a slicing pain in her chest, and the stars around Maeve seemed to sputter and die out.

Aelin, I did not wish to place you in such danger, nor did I ever

Celaena merely lay down in bed, her back to Maeve, and pulled the covers over her head. The sounds of Maeve
sighing and leaving the room filled her ears, and Celaena, surrounded in a darkness of her own, did not see the tears
that filled the queens eyes, nor the begging, apologetic glance that she gave Celaenas sleeping form as she closed
the tapestry behind her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Wake up, someone said into her ear, and Celaena opened her eyes, groaning. Raonn was sitting at her bedside, and
from the suns brightness and position on the wall, it was now mid-afternoon.

Celaena sat up, smiling weakly. Raonn smiled at her, his eyes running up and down her body as if he were inspecting
for any missed wounds.

I suspect that youre thinking very highly of yourself, he said with a smirk. You slew three Valg, a hated enemy of
the Fae, and one of those awful Draieds.

Celaena said nothing, and merely marveled at how fresh the air smelled, and how bright the sunlight was.

Youre very lucky to still be here, he said quietly.

For a moment, she saw the Satyr snap the wolfs body in two, an image that soon faded into many other horrible
ones, and Celaena covered her tear-filled eyes with her hands, shaking her head. It had been so awful, so
exhaustingShe saw the iron teeth of the Valg, and the eyes of the Doppelgnger, and could still hear Morghans
scream in her head.

Her face burned with embarrassment as she began to cry, unable to stop herself as sobs came gasping from her
mouth. Safetyshe was safe here, safe. She would see Dorians face again, see Trasien

Oh, Raonn said, leaning forward. Oh, please dont cry, he touched her arm, but Celaena only clamped her hands
to her face with renewed effort. She could smell Morghans blood, and feel its thick consistency running down her
face, down her arms and legs.

Raonn pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her. It was awful, I know, he then chuckled
to himself. I cried for two days after my Trial: I couldnt get the experience out of my head. I didnt understand why
everyone was so happy, why I was being celebrated when I had nearly died the most horrible death I could think of.

He ran a hand down her short hair, and Celaena dropped her hands down, stopping her sobbing. I just, she said,
sniffling back a large river of mucus, I didnt think that it would ever endthe night, I mean. It just went on and on,
and became worse and worse, and then I took the crown

Forget about the crown, Raonn said. Maeve told me it was a stupid thing to have tested you for anyway.

I hate Maeve, Celaena said, sounding more childish than she wanted to.

I would too, if I were you, Raonn said, smiling. But she was only doing what she thought was the best for youshe
never intended to put you in so much danger.

But she did.

She knew from the second that you destroyed the Draied that something was amiss, and she

How did she know?

Raonn shook his head. Maeve has a mirror that allows her and others to See things: using it, she could spy upon you
throughout the night. She and I Saw everything as it happened, even your dream.

So she saw and did nothing? Why did she not come to me when Morghan almost drowned me and ate me for
supper?

It is against the Trial to do such a thing.

Then it is a stupid thing to do! I could have died! Why did you not try to help me?

Raonn released her, almost pushing her back.

A memory flashed through Celaenas mind, and she looked towards Raonn, her blue eyes full of light. You did, she
said softly.

I did nothing, Raonn said, pushing his seat back from the bed.

No, no, you did! Celaena continued, noticing the rising blush in his cheeks. I heard youI heard your falcon noise,
and then I heard you. You were talking to me, you told me to get up!

Youyou heard me?

And then I heard this stupid snippet of conversation that we had on one of those days you were dragging me through
the mudyou told me I wasnt as hurt and close to death as I thought I was, and you were right. And then I thought
of you, and I thought of the rain, and how you conjure these irritating little storms, and then I thought of how to kill
the crone, I knew that was the only way to do it because I knew that you could also have done it so easily!
Raonn suddenly laughed, though it seemed it was not at what she had said. You heard me! You actually heard what I
said! Oh, gods above! he laughed and laughed until tears spilled from his eyes.

What? she asked him, and Raonn surged forward, grabbing her face in his hands. His gray eyes stared into hers,
and he smelled slightly of the sea as his silver hair flowed behind him.

Oh, you silly girl! Slayer of Valg and Morghan indeed! He pinched her cheeks until she batted him away.

Your hair! he suddenly exclaimed, laughing again. Its so short!

Celaena, remembering, reached up a hand, and frowned as she felt it stop just past collarbone. Its horrible! she
cried.

Raonn chuckled, and pulled on a lock. It suits you, he grinned. Now your appearance matches your unladylike
behavior.

Celaena stuck out her tongue, but then frowned again. She looked hideous, she knew it.

There was a knock on the doorway, and they turned to find Maeve standing there, a sad smile upon her face. Raonn
stood immediately, bowed to his queen as she entered, and left the room, turning back to smile at Celaena as he
disappeared.

May I sit? Maeve asked, her voice heavy, and almost like a sigh.

Celaena nodded, feeling anger boil in her stomach once again.

The Queen sighed, and she sat down, a scent of lavender filling the room and entering Celaenas senses. It seemed to
overcome the smells of the night before, and pushed the memories back to a safe distance, to behind a pane of glass
from which Celaena could observe, but suffer no more from their presence.

I want to apologize to you again, Maeve began, and I hope that Raonn explained much of what happened to you
and why we could not help you.

But I heard Raonns voicehehe helped me, Celaena said, sitting up, and noticing her white cotton and lace
nightgown. It was sleeveless, and Celaena held out her pale arm to see a faint line where she had sliced open her arm
during her fight with the Doppelgnger.

Maeve gave a start, and then regained control of herself. You heard Raonn? she asked, her brows narrowing. Was it
a hallucination?

No, Celaena said coldly. I told him that I heard him and he believed me. I heard him telling me to get up. Hes the
entire reason why I was able to slay the crone.

Maeve shook her head, laughing lightly. It seems as if one of my many intrigues has indeed come through, she said,
and chuckled once more.

Celaena raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

I forgive you, she said at last to the Fae Queen, not quite sure if she meant it.

I dont expect you to, Maeve said quietly. I can imagine how you must feel to have someone you trust put you
directly in dangers path. But I thank you for your understanding, she added in, her voice kind and warm.

Celaena looked out the window. The sky was blue, spotted with clouds, and she could hear birds chirping from the
tree around her. So, theyre really dead? she asked at last, looking back at Maeve.

As dead as dead can be.

Celaena cocked her head to the side. Why didI mean, did you know Morghan?
Maeve smiled sadly, and sighed. Yes, I knew Morghan, or what she was before she was banished to the swamp.
Maeves eyes seemed to be staring at something far in the distance. She was indeed a great beautyfar prettier than
you or I, Maeve said, and Celaena had a hard time imagining it, but she knew it as well. By the time she had
completed her Trial, she was as vain, selfish, and scheming as she was attractive. Maeve shook her head, clicking her
tongue. I never knew if she really loved Athril, or if she just loved the idea of himthe idea of a prince that was
handsome, and brave, and kind, and well-respected and beloved throughout our world

But you also loved Athril, Celaena added. Werent you two

Yes, but this occurred before that, just when the Valg had broken into our world. By that time, Athrils affection for
me was clear to all others, though not to me, and it drove Morghan mad with jealousy. But, try as she could, Athril
would pay her no heed. When her jealousy became open hatred towards me, I did what I thought was the right thing
to do and spoke to her about it. I told her that I had no claim on Athril, and would be glad for her to join with him in
marriage.

Maeve frowned, snorting. But all that I received in return was a slap in the face. When Athril discovered what had
happened, he threatened to kill her, and Morghan, crazed and humiliated, fled into the forest, where she encountered
the Valg and traded information to them in return for her life.

When we found ourselves attacked at our weakest defense, we knew who had betrayed us. As it is not of our nature
to kill our own kind, we kept her locked in our dungeon until the wars were over. Though Athril was dead, and I had
little desire to do so, my sisters convinced me to banish her into the mountains. I could not send her so far from us,
nor to such a harsh environment after so many years of pampering, so I instead sent her as far as the swamp. I
placed a curse on her to keep her from leaving its borders, and that is where she has remained, feeding off of stray
animals and travelers, sulking and brooding.

Maeves eyes were dark. It is good that you killed herhopefully, she can finally be at peace.

Maeve looked at Celaena, who was marveling at the parallels between Morghan and Kaltain Rompier.

Though it seems that she managed to take a bit of your hair with her, Maeve added. As short as it might be, it does
look nice. Perhaps youll start a new fashion trend in the mortal world.

The mortal world!

I have to go! Celaena cried aloud. She had been gone for a day! How could the chateau have functioned?

Do not fretwe sent a note, along with a substitute. I believe that your companions will find your replacement to be
far moreuseful than you normally are.

Celaena frowned, but decided to wait until she returned to the chateau to inspect her replacement.

I know that you do not wish to hear this, Maeve began, but you are owed much gratitude from my people and
myself. There are only a handful of Valg left in the world, and while three may not seem like many, Im sure that you
now understand how difficult and meaningful it is for them to be eradicated.

My parents met them, Celaena said suddenly. The Valg said that they met themthat my mother outwitted them.

Maeve nodded. Indeed. It was the night of your fathers Trial. His was much the same as yours, only we expected
him to actually slay something. He had given your mother the amulet of Orynth that day, and so it is unclear to me
whether or not it was her magick or the talisman that led her to him. You see, she was watching him in my mirror
and when she sensed that something was amiss, she disobeyed not only my orders, but also our deepest traditions to
save him. She found him captured by the Valg, and used not only her charm and beauty, but also her cunning to lull
the Valg into sleep, and free your father. They fled from the Valg, encountered more dangers, but none so grave, and,
needless to say, survived that night.

Celaena smiled. Did my father fail his Trial then?

As it was your mother that went to his aid, and as he did not beg for it, I did not consider it a failure.

But I failed.
Yes, Maeve said softly, you failed the original Trial that I had laid out for you. You were, as you know, to fall asleep
and dream. You made the wrong choice in the dream, and would have failed the Trial had that been all that had
happened to you.

But you experienced many more things, and survived against innumerable odds, and so I must consider your Trial a
great success.

So the Valg were not a part of it?

No, Maeve said. Though they are sometimes included in the Trials of other great warriors.

Then why was I given a dream?

Maeves eyes were dark. Because I have Seen that your greatest challenge will not be an obstacle of the swordyou
have already proved that you are greater than mostbut rather your mind, who you are as both Aelin Galathynius
and Celaena Sardothien.

Then why did I see myself jump off of the cliff?

Maeve smiled sheepishly. Perhaps I attempted to help you cheat a little, she admitted. I wanted you to see that the
option of merely crossing yourself out of the equation was not one to be had: you could only make a choice between
taking the crown or notthere was no way out of it.

Celaena managed a weak smile. So both you and Raonn helped me in your own waythough I think Raonns attempt
worked better.

Well, thats because Raonn was throwing a fit, Maeve said, her eyes glittering with stars. He almost ripped me
apart when I told him not to interfere. He was beside himself. Indeed, he was about to fly off to save you when I had
to threaten him with fire and brimstone to keep him in Doranelle. Maeve patted Celaenas arm. But, I believe that
he probably would have gone anyway, had you not managed to save yourself at each obstacle.

Maeve looked at the sunlight on the wall and stood. I must go, she said. At dawn tomorrow, you are to enter into
our clan. A dresser will wake you in time to get prepared, and Raonn will explain to you what needs to be done during
the ceremony.

Maeve reached forward, lovingly stroking Celaenas hair as she kissed her forehead. Well find something to do with
your hair, I promise, she said, giving a wry smile before she left the room.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Sunlight flowed in golden shafts through the windows of the temple, streaming past columns of white lilies and roses
and falling upon an alabaster floor covered in petals. A chorus was singing words in an ancient tongue, their voices so
high they rose upon wings to the rafters far above them. The air was still as Maeves voice sounded above the chorus,
speaking freely between many tongues as she said the words that had been said millions of times for countless
millennia.

Celaena knelt on the steps of the diadem, her knees resting comfortably upon the deerskin runner that flowed from
the altar to the massive doors in the back of the temple. She kept her head down, as Raonn had told her, though
thankfully, the ceremony was far more fascinating than Maeves slippered feet. During the parts she didnt
understand, Celaena merely admired her dress, which was truly a piece of art.

It seemed to have been crafted from stars and sunlight. Layers of gossamer and lace with intricate beading covered
the sleeveless dress, the trail of which flowed a full ten feet behind Celaena. Indeed, her trail still seemed to be in the
middle of aisle, around which the entire city of Doranelle was seated. She was mildly embarrassed and terrified at
being in front of so many people, yet Raonns presence beside Maeve lessened her stage fright. Her hair, upon trying
several impossible styles, was left flowing around her shoulders, and upon it sat a meshed veil of silver fabric that,
thankfully, covered her blushing face. She was in her Fae form, though she wished that she could return to her human
sense of hearingthe whispering from the crowd only made her more uncomfortable, and hearing what they said did
not help the situation.
Despite this, it was a beautiful ceremony: the entire temple had been bedecked in white flowers, white fabrics, white
birdsRaonn had taken the liberty of explaining that, in as long as he had lived in Doranelle, Maeve had never gone
to so much trouble to decorate the temple. With all of the grandeur and romantic dcor, Celaena felt as if she were a
bride at her weddingthough missing a desperately needed groom.

Celaena used the cover of her veil to look at the temples altar, which was coated in candles and vases of flowers. In
fact, this was how she had imagined her wedding to be: peaceful, beautiful, tasteful on the border of excess, with a
chorus singing from the side

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Maeve said, her voice grave and powerful, and Celaena raised her head, just as she was
supposed to, preparing herself for the only part of the ceremony that she had a part in. Do you swear upon your
eternal soul to enter our clan with loyalty and purity of heart, and to follow our ways as we have from the dawn of
time, and will until its demise?

I do, Celaena said, choking on the words. Her heart beat rapidly, and she blushed like a scolded schoolchild.

And do you swear upon your eternal soul that, no matter where you may roam on this earth, Doranelle will always
have your unending allegiance?

I do, Celaena said, stronger and louder than beforehoping desperately that it compensated for her awful first
reply.

And do you finally swear upon your eternal soul that, should you be asked to, you will freely give up your life, as well
as take the lives of others to protect and preserve Doranelle?

What a dark request in such a beautiful ceremony!

I do, she said, calmly, her muscles tensing as she prepared herself.

Maeve reached behind her, taking a slender crown from the podium on which it rested. Diamonds interlocked with
pearls crusted its surface, and its three spikes looked like sharpened waves flowing across the ocean. Celaena couldnt
help but twitch as Maeve placed the crown on her head, though she was relieved that it was light, and she almost fell
over from her tangled dress as she sought to stand up in unison with Maeves words, the chorus song rising to a
climactic pitch.

Then rise, Maeve said, flipping Celaenas veil over her crown and offering a hand, which Celaena gratefully took,
and stand as Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of the Fae.

Celaena stood, the chorus suddenly joined with the sweeping voice of its male singers, who bellowed their part
victoriously, their voices blending with that of the Fae women in their beautiful, incredibly high-pitched crescendo.

They continued to sing so joyously that Celaena could not help but smile, though she did feel like vomiting as Maeve
gave her hand to Raonn and they turned around towards the crowd, which was on its feet and smiling at her. Talking
to a mass of people in a dire situation like a battle is one thing, but facing them in real life, in a closed space where
theres nothing to look at but you and your awkward, clumsy behavior

Thankfully Raonn led her down the few steps, her dress heavily maneuvering around her, her face bright red as they
walked down the aisle. His chin was held high in the air, and his eyes shone with pride as he looked down at Celaena.
Petals seemed to be falling from the air, and Celaena glanced behind her. Maeve was a step behind.

A small sense of comfort overcame her as she realized that there were two people on the earth whom she could now
call family, and that they would never be more than a step behind or beside her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena stood before the fire, staring at the drummers around her, whose faces were painted an assortment of colors
that made them seem more like ancient demons than graceful Fae Lords and Ladies. She was wearing nothing, and
had never felt more mortified in her life.

A woman had entered her room at sundown, stripped her naked, and painted her from the neck down in stripes and
swirls of blacks and reds and blues for when the real ceremony (as Raonn had put it) began. She had been
blindfolded and led through the forest in state of panic, finally stopping here not ten minutes ago to find herself
standing before a massive fire and lots of strange, painted Fae. Raonn had said nothing to her about the whole ordeal
except for that it was what the warrior-types did to initiate their own kind.

Looking around the clearing, her senses overwhelmed by smoke and incense and the intense, booming drumming,
Celaena had a hard time imagining what the weavers would do to initiate one of their own. She also had a hard time
thinking about anything other than the fact that she was naked before a dozen warriors, though her body paint did a
good job of covering everything.

There was a distant call of command, and suddenly the drummers began to rapidly beat their drums with their thick
drumsticks, which produced a deep and guttural cry that only increased in tempo.

Celaena didnt know whether to laugh or to run in the opposite direction as she saw Raonn appear, dressed in armor
from the waist down, his muscular chest bare and painted green and blue and gold. His face matched his body paint,
and his hair, tied from his face, glowed in the firelight. He tossed what looked like a brick of peat into the fire, and it
exploded into a poof of green smoke that immediately made Celaenas eyes burn. There was a stone slab in the
center of the clearing, which Celaena had originally thought was a table, but, seeing Raonn as he was, now suspected
and dreaded it to be for other things.

A man appeared at Raonns side as he stood before her, and Celaena, her face still unpainted, looked at him
pleadingly, but did not dare to speak. The drumming was making her head throb, and Raonn went out of focus a few
times before she steadied herself. The faster she inhaled, the more blurred the world became. The green smoke
curled into her senses, covering them with a blanket that made everything warm and casual.

The man held out a tray of wooden bowls for Raonn, and Celaena winced as her friend dipped his fingers in the first
one, not removing his eyes from her face.

She closed her eyes as he drew four diagonal lines across her nose, mouth, and chin, the paint cold and sticky against
her skin. She restored her vision in time to see bright blue paint drying on his fingers, and then see him draw forth
fingers covered in black paint. She closed her eyes as he began to color her face, cold and exposed in the night air.
Somehow, her embarrassment seemed to fade, and as she continued to breathe in the green smoke, she saw visions
of many things, strange and familiar, old and future.

She was not some silly, blushing womanshe belonged to the warrior Fae! The drumming, the pride of thousands of
years, began to tell her stories: of great warriors gone and their great deeds accomplished. What shame had she for
her own mortal flesh when it would be the thing that granted her glory?

Raonns hands were soft against her face, and she fought against the urge to kiss them as her eyes flew open and she
raised her chin sharply, causing the Fae man to pause.

She reached forward and dipped both her hands fin into a cool puddle of paintwhich appeared to be goldand drew
two identical sets of five lines across her face like wings of a magnificent bird.

Raonn merely smiled and grabbed her hand, raising it into the air. A call burst forth from his lips, which was then
echoed in the forest around her by a cry produced by cry far more than twelve drummers. Celaena, unable to stop
herself, tipped her head back and cried her victory.

Raonn lowered her hand and led her to the stone table, where he pushed her down into a lying position, and then
commanded her to roll over onto her stomach, his gray eyes like quicksilver.

The stone was hard and cold against her body, but Celaena, so intrigued and exhilarated, didnt care. Raonn whistled
to a man, who rushed over, and Celaena, raised her head, twisting it around, to see the man bring a series of small
needles and what could only be dyes. Her hands grabbed onto the edge of the alter as Raonn sat down beside her,
wiping her lower back clean with wet fabric. The drumming was now so fast that Celaena felt as if it had defeated
time, and Celaena clenched her jaw and turned her head away as she felt Raonn make the first prick.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was nearly an hour later that the drumming stopped, and Celaena, her back bleeding and sore despite the narcotic
smoke, released the stone table from her iron grip. Without a word, the drummers had vanished, as had the other
men and women, and all that remained for company was the fire.
Can you move? Raonn asked quietly, and Celaenas nakedness suddenly rushed back at her with full force.

Oh, I dont care, he hissed as Celaenas hands sought to cover her behind. Nonetheless, he turned his head away as
Celaena sat up, attempting to cover herself.

Here, he said gruffly, reaching beneath the table to throw a cloak to her. Celaena wrapped it around her, wincing as
it touched her raw back.

So Imtattooed now?

Raonn nodded and drew something in the dirt. It was a design composed of two semi circles facing each other,
divided with a set of long parallel lines. If she blurred her vision, it looked like a sun on the water, split across the
middle by the horizon, but reflected in the water beneath it.

Both of the circles are a reddish orange, Raonn said quietly, the top circle is supposed to be the rising sun, and the
bottom is supposed to be the setting sun. The two lines are a mixture of gold and greeneach like a twisted ribbon
that signify the eternity of time and nature. Together, this means that while you may appear and believe yourself to
be two separate entities, its really just one whole thing: a day. There are several other meanings that you could also
draw from it, but Ill leave you to discover them on your own.

Celaena, suddenly exhausted, smiled brightly. I couldnt have imagined a better tattoo for myselfI cant wait to see
it.

Raonn snorted. It will take some time to healwell bandage it when we get back, and youll have to keep that
bandage on for a day and constantly clean it for a week so it doesnt get infected. Ill give you an ointment to rub on it
when you do so, but make sure to not bandage your tattoo again, even if it hurts against your clothes. Youll be
healed within two weeksone, if youre lucky.

Cant I just heal it?

No, Raonn snapped. Then you wont have a tattoo.

Celaena frowned, and looked at the dwindling fire. So, Im Fae now? She had returned her ears to normal, and was
thankful for a bit of silence after so many noises.

Raonn chuckled. Yes, you are Fae.

And a warrior Fae at that!

He laughed and stood, his body paint glowing in the firelight. Come, he said, offering his hand, its time you had
some sleep.

Celaena grinned, not quite grasping why she suddenly felt so happy, and stood, leaving the cloak behind her as she
took his hand and walked into the night.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 26: INTERLUDE

Dorian DeHavilliard opened his eyes, first surprised that he was naked, and then slightly alarmed to find that he was
sitting on a ledge of a rectangular bathing pool in the middle of the forest. Submerged to his chest, Dorian looked
down to find that the water was the color of pewter and thankfully concealed most everything beneath its surface.
Mist drifted across the surface of the pool, smelling of rosemary and mint, and golden rays of late afternoon sunshine
cut deep into the water.

The mist at the center of the pool parted, and Dorian felt his heart skip a beat as he saw Celaena SardothienAelin
Galathyniussitting across from him, the white dress that she wore floating around her in the water like phantom
wings. Her hair was shorter, and there was something in her face that was differentcalmer, but more powerful,
more self-assured, more

Regal.
She smiled at him and nodded her head, her eyes bursting into hues of turquoise and gold as light passed across her
face.

It had been over two weeks since he had discovered the true nature of her plans, and while Dorian had accused the
group assembled around her of treason and betrayal, he still could not bring himself to tell his father. The kings
reaction was too unpredictable. At best, his father would remain wary of him, and excluded him from any major plans
at worst, his father wouldnt believe his story about being a spy, and would hang him along with the traitors from
Trasien.

Instead, Dorian had merely returned to the life that he had led before Celaena Sardothien had entered it: he attended
his mothers court, began to dine with his parents each night, and made a moderate spectacle of his growing
relationship with Nicolle DeLemanscon. He bought her jewels and other meaningless trinkets, and made sure to
present them to her in open court. He brought her with him to balls and to the theatre, and while he had not bedded
her, she, unlike the many others before her, did not press or discuss the matter.

Despite himself, he did occasionally enjoy her company. She was not as dull as most, and even shared a moderate
distaste for court life. She was not well read, but she did read, and while she could not hold great discussions about
literature, she did know a fair amount about art. On top of all this, she was very attractive, an asset that made Dorian
wonder what would have happened had he met Nicolle before Celaena. Would he have loved her? She was unusual
without isolating herself, which Celaena often did; and while she tended to have moments of aggression where Dorian
wondered if there were something wrong with her, she was kind to him, and to others, another tendency that came
and went with Celaena.

But now, looking at Celaenawho had lied to him again and againNicolle seemed to fade into the faceless crowd of
his royal domain.

Hello, Celaena said, her voice soft.

Aelin. Her name is Aelin.

Hello, Dorian managed, wishing fervently that Aedion had been playing a wicked trick on him.

She slipped off of her seat and swam to him, her hair a golden net across the surface. As much as he might loathe
her, there was something about her that he could not stop himself from loving, something that made him want to
reach out and touch every part of her body.

But as she neared him, his dread suddenly increased. Perhaps all of this was just another enchantment of hers
perhaps she had enchanted him with her magick, just as a witch would.

Are you not happy to see me? she asked, standing before him, water dripping down her. The bath only came up to
her waist, and her white dress, now soaked, did little to hide her body. Dorian could not help but stare for a moment
at her finely shaped breasts and her ivory skin, which looked toned and firm.

I am, Dorian said quickly, staring at her face. Freckles now dotted her cheeks and nose, and her hair looked a shade
lighter. She leaned towards him; her eyes locked with his, and kissed himever so lightlyupon the lips. Her mouth,
soft and smooth, felt cold, and Dorian stared at her as she withdrew.

He could not understand how he had been fooled so easily, and how she had been so capable of fooling himdid she
not have a conscience?

She smiled at him, and Dorian looked down into the water as she felt her hand rest on his thigh. I have something to
tell you, Dorian, she said, her eyes glowing.

Another trick?

At that moment, he remembered two things. The first was perhaps the most harrowing, though the second seemed to
add to that feeling. He recalled what Aedion Ashryver had once said to him about the child Aelin Galathyniusabout
the little girl that had helped him, and Dorian, by some triumph over time and lost memories remembered it. He
immediately saw the resemblance, cursed himself for not noticing it before, and realized that the connection that he
had felt to her from the first moment he had seen her, spoken to her, was a direct result of it. She had been planning
to use that connection to manipulate him, and she had, for some time. As a child, she must have remembered him,
and spent her years training as an assassin with the goal to steal his heart and use him to destroy his people.

The next thing he recalled was how Celaena, for some time, had done nothing that she had been ordered to do in
Wendlyn. She had Wendlyns secret defense plans, yes, but she would not kill Galan Ashryver, her cousin, with whom
she had been associating from the moment she landed in Wendlyn. She had defeated Adarlans army at Peregrinno.
All of this time, she had been telling him half-truths, lies that not only mocked his ignorance, but also turned his mind
from his true allegiance.

This was not loveshe could not have cared for him.

Dorian looked at her. She had a nervous smile on her face. He would not tell her his true reasons for leavinghe
would, as she had done to him, merely mold the truth for his own purposes.

But despite what he told himself, he could not help but feel as if a wide wound had suddenly been sliced down his
chest as he grabbed her hand, removing it from his leg. He would have no more of her lies, no more of her deceitful,
scheming words. I have something to tell you, he said, trying to keep his voice soft.

She cocked her head to the side, a wry smile appearing on her face.

You go first thenII havent seen you in so long, she said, her eyes so full of light that he believed, and wished,
for just a moment, that she had truly loved him, despite what his father had done to her, despite her plans to ruin his
empire. It will be nice to hear you talkI wish to know everything that you have been doing! And how Chaol is
surviving with Arobynn, especially!

Aside from Celaena, that had been his most painful betrayal. Chaol had known about her past, and had neglected to
tell him. The one person that was supposed to protect him from everything

Dorian looked at her eyes, and realized that perhaps they were not shining for him. Was that another deceit as well?
There had been something between her and Chaol, something that had always made Dorian jealous for a reason that
he didnt understand.

I Dorian said, trying to find the right words. Celaena raised her brows, a grin upon her face. His breath caught in
his throat. Why had she not loved him? Why had she chosen to use him, instead of include him, as she had with Chaol
and Aedion, in her plans?

I am not he began again, and Celaenas smile faltered slightly. It occurred to him then what had truly made him
realize her deceit.

Do you know, he said, his voice suddenly hard, that I have never heard you say that you love me?

Her smile was gone, and her brows knotted. I did not think that

Do you know what my father does to traitors, Celaena?

Dorian.

She looked worried, but then burst into laughter. Dont jest with me like thatI almost believed

I cannot keep up with this disguise anymore, Celaena, he said suddenly. I cannot balance between whatever it is
that Tiryn has been planning and maintaining my life as Crown Prince.

She was silent for a moment, her eyes large and gray.

You will not go against your father, she said, her voice low.

He is my father and I am his son. I cannot turn my back on my family and my people.

But thats absurd! she cried suddenly, her face distorting. Your father is a tyrant, a thief, little more than a common
mur
I have also met someone else, Dorian said, bestowing the blow that would silence the subject. His heart was racing,
and with each beat, he felt as if it would explode into a thousand pieces. She never loved himshe betrayed him.

Celaena backed away, and a cold air whipped into the clearing.

Aa woman? she asked, her voice like a leaf caught an autumn wind.

Dorian nodded his head. I cannot continue this he said, jerking his chin at her, anymore.

Youre lying, she said, shaking her head.

It was just a dream, Celaena, he said, feeling as if he would vomit. It was for the best, yes, it was for his country
and for his father. They would be crushed before they could act.

Do it. End it. Before you ruin everything you hold dear.

I am a Crown Prince of Adarlan, he said as coldly as he could, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke the words she
had said to him so many months ago, And you are Adarlans assassin. In what world could we ever have existed?

He began to raise himself from the water, not caring if she saw his naked form.

Youre lying! she exclaimed, rushing towards him. Her voice broke, and her face distorted. Youre lying! You love
me, you love me!

Dorian stopped, and turned to look at her.

Theres something else, she cried, Theres something youre not telling me!

For a moment, he believed her. He believed her tear-filled eyes, and her barred teeth, and her anguish-filled voice.
But then she grabbed his arm, and he found her hands to be hard and cold.

Do not touch me, he suddenly snarled, shaking off her hand with a violent flick of the wrist. She was desperate to
maintain possession of her pawn, she hadnt loved him, she was just lying

Celaenas breath caught in her throat, and she clutched her arm as if it had been burned. She stared at him, her eyes
wide before they suddenly narrowed in pitiful understanding, and she nodded her head, backing away. The sound of
moving water was the only noise in the clearing, and though the sun still shone, mist began to rise off of the surface
rapidly. She continued to nod her head, her lips set in a defeated smile, until the mist wrapped around and over her
head, and she momentarily became a wraith, a mere shadow in the fog, before disappearing into the thick air.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena scrubbed at the dirty dishes, ignoring the swarm of faeries that now lived and worked in the kitchenthe
replacement she had had while on Trial. Whenever the Baroness entered the kitchen (which was rare), they
immediately joined together and became an identical copy to whoever was missing from the kitchen. They enjoyed
working, for it involved both food and occasionally being naughty, and neither Leighanna nor Cindrillion seemed to
find fault in their presence.

Celaena, on the other hand, did not care whether or not they remained. Her chores, into which she had fully thrown
herself, kept her mind off many things, chattering and chirping faeries included.

She did not cry when she awoke from her dream, even though she knew that it was true, and instead she neither
spoke nor smiled, and barely ate and rarely slept. Dorian had betrayed her for some court-trained whore, and he was
a coward, a no-good, spineless coward.

The more she worked, the more Celaena realized that she hated Dorian, and that she hated all of the DeHavilliard
family. It would have dishonored her royal house to be involved with Dorian! It would have been so tragically clich
and awful and stupid!
The plate that Celaena was holding gave a loud groan, and she released it into the bubble-filled sink. She knew that
she could be using her magick to clean and mend everything, but she didnt want to. In fact, the thought of magick
nauseated her at the moment.

Her tattoo hurt, despite how many times she cleaned and applied ointment to it, and it fueled her cold fury onwards.

Betrayed!

How could Chaolhow could Tirynhave believed Dorian to be of any merit? He would never tell his fatherno, he
was too much of a coward for thatbut his decision not to act was nearly as bad.

Celaena dropped the plate into the drying rack, ignoring it as it chipped.

She had been about to tell him; about to tell him everything that she should have told him months and months ago.

Its a good thing that I didnt! Think of what that toad would have done had he known who I really was!

She wanted to rip him apart, rip him and his whore apart, and then rip his father apart.

Celaena gave a yelp as the water in the sink began to boil, and she immediately sucked the heat from it, clenching
her jaw as magick rolled through her.

Are you feeling all-right, Ele? Cindrillion said from the kitchen table, where she sat, assisting the faeries with cutting
a tableful of vegetables.

Yes, Celaena muttered, not turning around.

Are you sure? Cindrillion pried.

Oh, shes just still upset that Luca and Stephaenya are gone. Dont worry, theyll be here in a day or so, Leighanna
said, chuckling.

Celaena rolled her eyes, and said nothing.

The only good thing that seemed to have happened, aside from two friends departing for a life of comfort and
happiness, was that Cindrillion seemed to be acting morenormal. She hadnt had a fit in weeks, and perhaps that
was due to a lack of beatings from the Baroness, but Celaena liked to believe that it was because of their time
together. Until she had awoken from the dream, she had frequently told Cindrillion stories and advised her on day-to-
day matters. She had even helped the girl clean out and throw away the last of her bird and mouse cages, though
Celaena had almost vomited at the smell.

She was still careful around the girl, and there always seemed to be an air of fragility around her, but Celaena
believed that, if taken away from the chateau, Cindrillion would have a decent chance of being sane.

Oh, Cindrillion sighed, I wish that I could go to the ball!

Celaena frowned, her back still turned. She still needed a dress, and a carriage to get her there.

She had decided it the moment she had woken up two days ago: she was going to the ball, if for any reason but to
give herself leverage on the King of Adarlan when she returned.

I dont understand why Luca and Stephaenya arent going, Cindrillion continued. Theyre now a part of Ghents
household: they should be able to go!

Both Ghent and Luca decided that, until theyre better accustomed to their new life, it would be wise to avoid such
large events, Leighanna said, kneading bread dough.

But at the ball, everyone would see that Luca is his new son!
Luca and Stephaenya preferred not to gotheyre not as enamored by it all as you, Cindrillion.

The girl sighed her agreement, her knife chop-chopping on the wooden table.

Dont you wish that you could go to the ball, Ele?

Celaena did not stop scrubbing her dishes as she curtly replied, No.

Cindrillion groaned. Its only two days away! Do you think that the Baroness will ever let me go with her? It says that
every household is to attend, and, as I am technically her

No, Celaena and Leighanna said in firm unison, the bread slamming on the table and the dishes clanking loudly
against each other.

Oh, Cindrillion said, and sighed, her knife still clop-clopping against the table.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

No! Celaena said loudly, leaning forward across the counter to yell into the old womans ear. I just want a plain
carriage!

Im sorry, but we dont do wedding ceremonies here! the old woman said, shaking her head.

Celaena leaned back, frustrated. She had come into town to try to hire a carriage to pick her up, and had found that
the only worker in the carriage hiring company was a near-deaf old woman who didnt really seem to know where she
was.

Celaena spied a pen on the counter and wrote down what she wanted on a nearby piece of parchment.

She passed it to the old woman, tapping her foot against the floor while a deep frown formed on her face.

The old woman squinted, holding the parchment close to her face. Oh! Im afraid that we dont have any plain
carriages available! Theyve all been let for the ball!

Celaena let out a groan.

But! I have something that you might find suitable. the old woman said, pulling forth a heavy black book. She
flipped open the cover and leafed through the pages, her nose striking them as she leaned to see the drawings inside.
Apparently, it was an inventory of their carriages. Many of them were just plain, though several were of odd shapes
and sizes. The old woman stopped as she found what she was looking for, and turned the book around, pushing it
towards Celaena.

Celaena looked down at the drawing, and then at the old woman. This is a pumpkin! she yelled into the womans
ear.

And what a lovely pumpkin it is! We made it especially for our Samhaon festival last autumn!

Celaena looked at the carriage. Thankfully, it was white, though its shape was undeniably that of a pumpkin. The door
was carved out of its side, and the wheels had the flimsy appearance of pumpkin vines.

Will this do?

Celaena looked at the ridiculous carriage, her brows furrowed. She only needed it to drive her to and from the palace.
Celaena read the accompaniments that were written in a column beside the drawing.

Yes, she yelled, but I dont want any of these singing footmen, and a faerie conductor things that you have here!

Right, right, the woman said, nodding her head vigorously. Celaena frowned again and grabbed the parchment.
She wrote down where to meet herexactly one mile down the road from the chateauand at seven oclock, just
after the Baroness would have left for the ball herself. Celaena passed the parchment to the old woman, who took it,
nodding.

Four gold pieces, please, she said, and Celaena fished into her money pouch, dropping the gold onto the table,
congratulating herself on selling Dorians ring long ago so that she could now reap the benefits of its value.

Celaena thanked the woman, who, in return told her that they did not sell paestia in the store, and walked out, feeling
a bit more nervous than she would have liked.

She was halfway back the long road to the chateau when there was a screech, and Raonn appeared at her side.

Ive been looking for you all day! I went to the house and they said that you had gone into town

I did, she replied, looking at the path before her.

Well, are you going to come back to Doranelle at any point?

No, she said. She had not been back since the night of her tattooing.

And why is that?

Celaena gave him a sharp look. I dont feel like it.

Raonn looked at her, and suddenly grabbed her arm, his grip so tight that it hurt. Are you ill? You look like you
havent slept.

Celaena tossed her hair. Im fine.

How is your tattoo?

Fine.

He stopped her, grabbing her other arm, and shook her. What is wrong with you?

Celaena turned her head and stared at the ground.

Look at me, he snapped, and grabbed her chin, forcing her head in his direction.

She looked at him, filling with undeserved hate, her eyes darkening.

Raonns hand released her chin, and he shook his head.

What did he do to you? he asked quietly. What did he say

Celaena began to walk away, and Raonn grabbed her again. I know you had a dream with him, and I know you have
deliberately avoided coming to Doranelle, so just tell me what happened!

Celaena laughed, spiteful, her innards coated with ice.

All everyone ever cares about is one thing: themselves. Me. Me. Me. I. I. I. Myself. Myself. Myself. Its never about
how I feel, its about how they will feel about my problems, its about whether they will also have to deal with my
dilemmas, with my pain.

Wouldnt you like to know, she hissed, shaking him off of her, and walked down the path, leaving him far behind
her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Isnt it lovely? It was my mothers, Cindrillion said, pulling forth one of the most beautiful dresses that Celaena had
ever seen from a large trunk beneath her bed. She wore it on her wedding day.

Its a bit old-fashioned, Cindrillion admitted, holding the dress to her.

Its lovely, Celaena replied, her eyes glittering. It was pale gold in overall color, though many variations and shades
seemed to be hidden in its amazing craftsmanship. Its neckline, lined with tiny, freshwater pearls, scooped
dramatically downwards in a V, and beneath that flowed a bodice embroidered with lace and chiffon and velvet all
layered together to form a landscape of shapes, primarily in the form of flowers and butterflies, peacock feathers and
other lovely things. The sleeves, slight puffs of chiffon at the shoulder fading into skin-tight, crystal-encrusted
grayish-golden velvet, fell to elbow-length, where a circle of pearls marked the beginning of the long, slitted strips of
golden gossamer, that fell far beyond the hand, and ending at the hip. The waist, another V-shape marked with
pearls, flowed into a beautiful skirt of shimmering silk, covered by delicate netting made of jewel-embroidered chiffon.
It was not as outrageously large and puffy as the skirts of the Baroness were; rather, it gave the dress a kind of
lightness that made it look as if it were made of sunlight and clouds. The trimming along the hemline seemed to be
made of dripping crystal, and as Cindrillion waved the dress around, it tinkled like soft bells.

Oh, its so big thoughI would have to pull in the waist and shorten the hemline, that is, if Stepmother really lets me
go to the ball like she said she would. Can you imagine! She agreed! Granted, Ill have to get all of my chores done
perfectly and on-time for the next two days, and Ill have to be sure to be extra-nice to them, but Cindrillion was
saying, but Celaena wasnt listening.

All that she could see was the dress, and how perfectly it would go with a pair of glass slippers.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

There was a high-pitched scream that made Celaena almost snap the water pump in two, followed by the sound of
feet rushing down the stairs.

Cindrillion broke into the kitchen, her face red with panic. Where is it? she panted, rushing to Celaena and grabbing
her apron. Where is the dress?

Celaena widened her eyes, ignoring the guilt that began to hammer at her, and knotted her brows together. II
dont know! she said, filling her voice with confusion. The last I saw it, it was in your trunkdid you forget to put it
back under your bed?

Cindrillion looked at Celaena, who, for a moment, thought that she had been a poor liar, and then looked at
Leighanna. You didnt see the Baroness or my sisters with it, did you?

No, but I

Cindrillion collapsed upon the bench on which Leighanna was sitting, covering her face with her hands. Oh, oh, how
could I have been so stupid? she groaned.

Celaena merely looked at the girl, told her to cheer up, and returned to her dishes, trying to convince herself that
Cindrillion wouldnt have gone to the ball anyway.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

To say that the chateau was chaotic on the day of the ball would be an understatement. The Baroness and her
daughters spent the day ripping and tearing apart clothes, weeping over their lack of new jewelry, and ordering
Celaena and Cindrillion around so much that they scarcely had time to do any of their normal chores.

Cindrillion had mourned the disappearance of her mothers dress, but had soon set to work, alternating making her
own dressof fabric discarded by her two sisterswith following orders. Every break she had, she sewed frantically at
the dress, which was an assortment of pink and blue and white silk fabrics, and Celaena, not allowing herself to dwell
on her own wickedness, even gave what little help she could.

It was nearing four in the afternoon when the energy in the house finally burst. Celaena, exhausted from her work
and too nervous about the ball to speak to anyone, was washing the dishes, running her plan through her head again
and again. She would wait until the Baroness left, rush into the woods, to the spot where she had carefully hidden
everything she needed for the night, dress herself, and walk through the woodsavoiding the roadto the spot where
she had told the carriage to meet her. She would go to the ball, charm and surprise everyone, request a private
audienceas Aelin Galathyniuswith the king, and then

She hated Dorian DeHavilliard. She hated almost everyone.

An icy rage had slipped its hand over her eyes, and Celaena, still stumbling in the dark, willingly chose the path that it
offered.

Cindrillion was frantically chopping carrots when laughter floated down from upstairs, along with words that made
Celaenas head whip around.

What a charming dress! Marghenna was saying.

Its fit for a queen! Joline replied. Too bad youre too fat for it!

I do believe she intended to wear it tonight!

They cackled, and Cindrillion was on her feet, flying from the room.

Celaena dropped her dishes, crying out for Cindrillion to stop as she charged after her.

Celaena raced after the girl, who was faster than she looked, stopping when they entered the sitting room, where the
two sisters were examining Cindrillions dress, which had been nearly completed. It wasnt beautiful, but it did at least
please the eyes. Joline was holding it up to her flat chest, sniggering, and Marghenna cackled as Cindrillion entered
the room.

What are you doing? she asked, looking around the room for any sign of the baroness.

Why, looking at the lovely dress you made, Marghenna said, batting her eyelashes.

I Cindrillion began, taking a step forward. PleaseII made it, for the ball tonight. Just let me wear it tonight
and you can have it afterwards!

Well, Joline began, her horse face pulling back into a smile, that explains why its so ugly. This dress looks so
familiarhave you stolen our fabrics, Cindrillion? Mother will give you a sound lashing for that.

Please, Cindrillion begged. You took my mothers dress, please let me have this one!

Your mother? Marghenna asked, taking a bit of the dress in her hands. Why would we want the dress of a
commoner whore?

Cindrillions eyes widened and her lips went pale, but she said nothing, and turned her gaze to the ground.

Marghenna, Cindrillion pleaded.

Oh! Joline exclaimed, her large teeth clashing against her bottom lip. Oh, I have a wonderful idea! The lanky girl
looked at her fat sister and grinned. Why dont you try it on for us, Cindrillion? Let us see how lovely it will look!

Cindrillion stared at the girl, her brows rising.

Oh, yes! Marghenna chimed in, her voice contorted with sweet venom, Do try it on for us! Show us how you will
look tonight! Perhaps mother will come down and let you come with us!

Celaena bit down on her tongue as the servant girls eyes brightened.

Are youdo you really think she would?

No! No no no, she wont!

Of course! Mother will probably be beside herself at how ravishing youll look! Marghenna held out the dress to
Cindrillion, her dark eyes sparkling with delight.

To Celaenas dismay, the girl smiled and curtsied as she took the dress from her wicked sister, and, with a backwards
glance at Celaena disappeared from the room.

It was barely ten minutes later that Celaena heard Cindrillion coming down the front staircase, and, dropping her
cutting knife, she rushed into the front parlor where the two stepsisters were waiting.

Cindrillion, despite some sloppy work on the hemlines, did look prettyin fact, the design of the dress was quite
pretty.

Celaena hid in the entrance to the dining room as she saw the Baroness approach from the shadows, an amused smile
on her face.

Cindrillion floated down the stairs, her golden hair tied back with a ribbon. Around her neck lay an ancient pair of
beads that had probably once been a vibrant blue, but now looked to be chipping and dulled in several areas.

Oh, isnt it gorgeous! Marghenna gushed as Cindrillion rushed forward, twirling. Again, Celaena marveled at the
girls exquisitely slender bodyher waist was so unusually small that it couldnt have been more than fifteen or
sixteen inches!

The Baroness came towards the girl, slowly, carefully, her green dress crinkling around her as she stalked towards the
girl with a small smile on her aging face.

Perhaps I will let you go to the ball, she cooed, her dark eyes narrowed as she stopped a foot away from Cindrillion.

Oh, mother you cant be

I remember, the Baroness said in a deceptively sweet voice, that, as a child, youMarghennaused to love blue
beads. Her long and bony hand reached out towards Cindrillions neck and playfully tugged on them. Why, I havent
seen a pair like this, sincewell, it must have been ten years ago! Perhaps you should get a new pair, Marghenna
just like these?

Marghenna rolled her eyes. Why would I want something so She stopped, her flabby mouth hanging open before
her mouth contorted into a twisted smile. Why you lying, deceptive thief! she said as she stampeded towards
Cindrillion, the Baroness smoothly stepping aside as a pudgy hand grabbed the necklace from Cindrillion and snapped
it from her neck. These are mine! Ive been looking for them forever!

And those, Joline said, her face becoming a mirror to her sisters, those are my favorite shoes! Give them to me!
Cindrillion, shaking and wide-eyed, bent over and handed her tall sister the pink velvet shoes that had either fit Joline
as an infant or that Joline planned to cut off half of her foot to find into.

And thats my lace! My lace shawl that you cut up to use for your hemline! Marghenna screeched, and before
Celaena could think of anything to say or do, the girl latched onto Cindrillions dress and ripped the poorly-sewn fabric
from its front.

Oh, no! the servant girl cried. I didnt

And my sash! Thats my sash! Joline cried as her spider-like hands tore a piece from the front.

Celaena stared, unable to move.

How could anyoneHow could anyone

Just do what you were supposed to do. Dont get involvedyoure almost done here. Dont get involved. Dont get
involved.

And my ribbon!
And my ribbon!

Soon the air was full of ripping fabric and wicked cries above Cindrillions own pleas for mercy. Celaena could barely
see the girl between the two assaulting girls, but from the fabric flying to the ground, she was certain that there
would soon be nothing left.

Dont get involved. Dont get involved

Beneath the icy-cold, beneath that numbing fury, Celaena was tremblingtrembling for whatever reasons she did not
want to acknowledge.

Dont get involved. Turn around and go back to the kitchen.

Girls! Girls! The Baroness cried. The two sisters stopped, clumps of pink fabric in their hands, and turned to look at
their mother. Thats quite enough. Isnt it about time that you got dressed for the ball? she said quietly and smiled.

Marghenna and Joline dropped what they were holding and walked over to the staircase, grins of satisfaction on their
faces.

Well, Cindrillion, the Baroness purred as she followed after her daughters, surveying the girls ruined gown, which
was now little more than a ruined white under-dress. Will still you be joining us at the ball?

Celaena grabbed onto the pillar for support as Cindrillion looked down at herself, at the yards of fabric that were now
strewn all over the ground, and let out a sob and ran from the house.

Celaena stared after her, and then turned to the Baroness, who was staring at Celaena. Clean up this mess, she
hissed at Celaena, and then began her ascent up the stairs.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena sat on her bed, her knees curled to her chest, watching through the small window of the tower as the sun
made its final descent past the canopy of the forest.

The Baroness had left, and the house was silent, save for Leighannas humming downstairs. Cindrillion, who fled from
the chateau, had not been seen for hours, and Celaena could only imagine her rushing through the woods, half-mad
with grief.

She knew that she had to leave soonher carriage would arrive in an hourbut, for some reason, she could do
nothing but sit, her arms wrapped around her legs, feeling the world expand and contract around her.

She felt small, so meek and insignificant, like the whole universe was roiling with grander things than men and kings,
yet she knew that what she would accomplish tonight would change the lives of millions. Her shoulders felt too tiny,
and her hands too delicate, and though she had tightly wrapped her fury around her heart, she felt as if she were
drowning, trapped in a room with no exits that was rapidly filling up with water.

A long and slender dagger that Raonn had once lent her sat beside her on the bed, its silver and pearl handle
throbbing dully in the pulsating light, its blade already awash with hues of red.

As the clock downstairs chimed six, Celaena rested her chin upon her knees.

Timewhat a silly thing. One minute you have too much of it on your hands, and the next too little. We treat it like
its a real thing, so it sits there, like another person in the room, reminding us of the things we have done and the
things we have to do, and the things we should do or shouldnt do, and all of the moments that we have before us to
waste its precious gifts. I dont see the point of it.

Her left hand slipped from her knee and landed upon the dagger, recoiling slightly as it met the cool blade. She ran a
finger down the ridge, her eyes awash with the colors of the sunset.

I just dont see the point of it.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 27: MIDNIGHT

The night air was cold as Celaena latched the last of the hooks on the back of her dress, her long arms working
without discomfort as they reached behind her. The dress, which had been too big for Cindrillion, fit Celaena perfectly,
though she had had to suck in her stomach while looping the hooks around her waist. Her short hair was tied into a
bun at the back of her head, and, no matter how many pins she added, the front sections refused to remain anywhere
except around her face. Irritated, Celaena had merely wet them with spit and curled them around her finger, hoping
that the curls would remain in place longer than a few minutes.

She looked down at her dress, smiling as she stuck out her foot, the crystal tinkling against her glass shoes. They
were surprisingly steady, and while she would not prefer them over any other shoes, they did not hurt her feet that
much.

How oddglass shoes! What a bizarre invention.

Celaena looked down at her pile of clothes and carefully tucked them back into the bushes where she had hidden
Cindrillions dress after carefully sneaking it from the room while the girl had slept one night.

She had stolen a hand-mirror from the Baroness, along with some cosmetics, and as she hastily applied them, she
could not help but hold the mirror from her and admire herself. The gold powder that she had smeared on her eyelids
set off the color in her eyes, which were appealingly framed by her dark eyelashes, curled and darkened with kohl.
Her lips were a rose pink that matched the soft rouge on her cheeks, which contoured her lovely, high, to-die-for
cheekbones, and set her face

There was a squawk, and something hard dropped at Celaenas feet. She looked at what had dropped, her head
snapping up from the mirror, and only had time to see a falcon flying away. Celaena bent down, unable to breathe as
her dress pushed on her ribs, and picked up the object that had been delivered.

It was her crownthe one Maeve had given her on the day of her initiation, and Celaena held it against her dress,
marveling at how well it matched. With a grin, she placed it on her head, using her mirror to position it into place.

She did not think of the fluttering wings, or of the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. Celaena reached
into a compact of shimmering powderthe Baroness collection of cosmetics was truly impressiveand smeared it
along her cheekbones to further highlight her bone structure.

Tonight, she did not care for alliances or oathstonight, for one last night, she was Adarlans assassin. Prince or no
prince, she would do her duty.

The clock struck seven and Celaena tucked her mirror and cosmetics into the bushes, slipping her dagger between her
breasts and deep into her bodice, far from sight. Awkwardly, she adjusted her cleavage until she found her breasts to
be suitable mounds of flesh against the pearl-encrusted neckline. She let out a deep breath, then straightened out her
dress and walked towards the road, her glass slippers proving to be a bit cumbersome in the dirt. She had picked to
meet at a small crossroads, at the center of which lay a lamppost and several signs pointing in various directions. A
bird screeched in the distance, and Celaena fervently wished that she had taken a bottle of hard alcohol with her.

Adarlans assassin. One last time. One more ball, one more seduction. Win the princes trust, win an audience with
the king

In this distance, she heard what sounded like singing, and, to her horror, it increased as a massive, white and gold
pumpkin burst from around the corner and pulled into place beside her. It had so many silly little lights, each shaped
like a budding flower, hanging from its sides and within its domed shape that the pumpkin-carriage seemed to be
glowing. But that was not what disturbed Celaena.

It was the five singing footmen, and the ridiculous, plump old woman in a purple cape that alarmed her, each singing
a nonsense song in a cheery voice that made Celaenas hands clench.

What an odd place for us to pick you up! the old woman said, flinging open the carriage door and hopping onto the
ground as the six white horses pulled to a stop. She bowed. One Samhaon carriage, at your service. The footmen
bowed their heads, each singing a different note that resulted into a broken harmony of sorts.
Celaena looked at them, her eyes wide. She stepped forward, trembling slightly at the fiasco, and said loudly: Im
sorry, but this is a mistake. I told the woman at your store I just wanted the carriage, not the whole, she paused,
frowning, entourage.

The old woman laughed, her short silver hair bouncing around her face. Why, it says here that you just wanted a
Samhaon carriageno special requests!

Celaena took the parchment from the womans hands, flushed with irritation, and read. It was her handwriting, and all
that it said was the carriage type and the directions and time to meet her. This is a mistake. I Celaena looked at
the old woman, and at the five footmen, who were all clad in blue and white and blatantly eavesdropping. Whowhat
are you supposed to be?

Why, the magickal chariot of Maeve and her faerie footmen!

Celaena closed her gaping mouth, blinking rapidly, before she shook her head. Never mind, she said hastily. Im
afraid that you will all have to return and

Oh, please! the old woman suddenly begged, coming so close that Celaena could see the rouge painted on her
cheeks. Celaena took a step back, and the woman suddenly looked down. Are those glass slippers?

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

From the bushes, Cindrillion saw herself stand before the magickal carriage, the faerie woman before her. She was
looking at her new pair of glass slippers, which the woman had magickally granted to her, along with the return of her
mothers dress. In fact, the Fae could do anything: she had turned their garden pumpkin into a grand carriage, and
turned the last of her mice, her dear friends, into the grand white horses, and all of the farm animals had been turned
into the coachmen, and it was all just a dream, a marvelous dream come true!

Oh, her faerie guardian was so kind! She had been watching her, watching Cindrillion since her fathers death, and
had now come to bring her to a life full of joy after so much cruelty! She was going to the ball! A wonderful ball where
all of her dreams would come true! Oh, she would dance with the prince and all the handsome lords, and then she
would smile as the court ladies would compliment her on the beautiful dress she worewhich she had made by
herself!

Cindrillion began to giggle with joy, and she did not notice as a dark figure appeared behind her. She smelled lavender
for a moment before her eyes closed and Cindrillion fell into a deep sleep, leaning against a tree.

Sleep, child, Maeve said, waving her hand once before Cindrillions face. Sleep, and let your mind travel far with
your companion

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena held out her foot for the woman to see, and the men gave a cheerful scale of musical appreciation as the
glass slipper glittered in the growing moonlight.

Im really afraid that you must return and bring me a different carriage. This thing, Celaena said, motioning at the
massive glowing orb, is really too much for me.

But wewe never get to use this carriage! the woman replied, grabbing Celaenas hand. And we do so love to
sing!

I prefer silence, Celaena said, turning maroon. This night was a disaster already.

We can be silent! The woman said hurriedly, nodding her head vigorously, the five men doing the same.

And weve never seen the palace, the old woman added, looking so pitiful and forlorn that Celaena bit on her lip. It
was too late to have a new carriage brought. Shed never be allowed in if she arrived past ten! Celaena looked down
at the invitation in her hands, frowning. The men began a melancholy chorus, looking balefully at each other.
Well, I suppose she said, and the men let out an operatic cheer that seemed to pop into the air and fall down like
a firework.

But, no singing!

The old woman clapped her hands together, bouncing in place. We appreciate this more than you can ever know,
she said, her eyes sparkling.

Yes, well, I hope I dont regret it, Celaena muttered, but the old woman had already moved on.

Goodness me! Its getting late! We must be off, we cannot delay! she said in a singsong voice, throwing open the
door of the carriage for Celaena.

Celaena looked at the absurd pumpkin, raised an eyebrow as the men began a crescendo, and climbed in, the door
slamming behind her. The woman leapt into the front seat, cracked the whip, and they were off with a jolt. Celaena
leaned forward to look out the window, wincing as an outrageously loud, gibberish-filled song began, and felt the
strangest feeling come over her, as if she were both furious and angry at once. Her eyes became slightly blurred, like
a mist had crept over them, and had an unshakable feeling that someone else was withno, not within her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver looked at himself in the mirror, unable to calm his nerves, despite the many drinks he had already
shared with Raal, Uli, and Kapo.

It was nearing eighthe was expected downstairs at any moment. He looked at himself again, straightening his white
cape. He wore a blue and silver vest, beautifully embroidered with the icons of his household, and while he did not
enjoy wearing his almost-skin-tight gray pants, they did make the muscles in his legs look much more pronounced
than they actually were. The fawn boots that came up to his knees already bothered him; and Galan rolled his neck,
adjusting the weight of his heavy gold circlet.

Ah, hes ready to peel off those clothes already, Raal said, finely dressed in hues of green, too bad theres no girl
around for him to amuse.

Galan glared at him in the mirror while Uli and Kapo laughed, each dressed in red and purple, respectively.

Do you think shell come? Galan asked, straightening his vest. His dark hair had been neatly combed and washed,
and while he had little facial hair to begin with, he given himself a thorough shaving.

Whats the point if youre already in bed by the time shes here? Uli chortled.

Galan tapped his foot, glancing at the window momentarily. Fireworks were already being set off, marking both the
glory of Wendlyn and the start of the ball. Green and red flashed across the sky. For the past week, the castle had
been abound with energy: garlands and streamers and tents and foods from all over the world were being brought in,
and his mother had taken the liberty of opening up the royal wine cellar, a fact that had caused endless fights
between his parents. The palace did look beautiful: all of its floors had been washed and polished, and all of the works
of art had been dusted and brought into the light again.

Galan sighed and grabbed his brandy from the table beside him as he sat down upon the couch on which Raal was
sitting, facing the two other brothers.

Do you know, Raal said, mocking shock and anger, that Adarlan dared to have a ball tonight as well?

Galan snorted into his cup, and Uli and Kapo sniggered.

Its true: I heard about it this morning from a merchant. Apparently, theyve almost bankrupted themselves over it,
though its not exactly to celebrate their gloryrather, their shortcomings.

Galan chuckled. And what, pray tell, would those be? he asked, an amused smile upon his face.
Well, too many to count, Raal said with a dramatic wave of his hand. But, I heard from the merchant that the ball
was to be held to find their prince Dorian a suitable wife! They commanded that every eligible maiden attend! It
appears that the Crown Prince may have more trouble with courting women than you, Galan. Thankfully, your mother
called the whole bride-search off after Peregrinno. Poor Dorian still has to announce his bride tonight.

Galan rolled his eyes. I heard that the Crown Prince was very handsomeperhaps he just suffers from an
overbearing mother.

Yes, well, maybe our little Aelin will clear that up when she arrives, Raal said, voicing what all of them had been
thinking.

If she comes, Galan said.

Shell come, Raal said. I know she will.

And why is that? Galan asked.

Because a little bird told me that not four days ago, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius had her Trial and became a member
of the Fae clan.

Galan raised his eyebrows, his mouth dropping. Youre lying.

Thats what we said, Uli replied, his freckled face twisting into a smile.

But, Kapo continued, crossing his legs, as usual, we were wrong.

Who told you, Raal?

I have my secrets, the youth said, raising his chin.

We cant pry it out of him, Uli admitted, He just seems to know everything.

Galan took another sip of his drink, his face hot. Well, you always were the brightest while we were in school, Raal.
Perhaps your intelligence has ascended to the level of the clairvoyant.

Raal merely laughed and finished his own snifter of brandy.

Shell come, dear Galan, he said, the fireworks booming overhead. Id bet my life on it.

I hope youre right, Galan said, adjusting his cape and looking out the window.

They had spent the past few weeks in a state of agitation: Raal had seen her, met her, talked with her; and while Uli
and Kapo had not spoken with her, they, too had glimpsed her. She had been assisting a young mannow apparently
the heir of the Baron Ghentin some foolish jousting tournament (a hobby that he, unlike the Hynter brothers, did
not care for in the least), and, while she had panicked at first, had been quite calm with Raal about her true identity.
Their physical descriptions matched perfectly, and now, with a link to a specific location, Galan and his friends were
already plotting a trip to the Baron Ghents estate.

He would find her, tell her everything he needed to say, and perhaps even go back to Trasien with her to reclaim her
throne. Nothing could be accomplished from across the ocean, or without an army. He had already plotted the basic
routes that they would need to take once in Trasienthe battlefields that they would meet upon. He still did not know
her exact connection to Adarlan, or the Crown Prince, but Galan hoped they were enough for them to reclaim the
country without much bloodshed.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard walked into the ballroom, Nicolle on his arm, smiling down at the crowd as they were received. His
parents, already sitting on golden thrones, rose as their son descended the steep flight of stairs, his father even
smiling slightly.
As relieved as he felt to have ended things with Celaena, there was something deep within him that bothered him,
something that hurt his bones and had made his nights sleepless. He could not deny that his heart was potentially
broken, or that he would never meet another woman like Celaena, deceitful or not, but

Dorian bit down on his wince of pain as Nicolle pinched his arm, a smile spread across her face though her eyes were
dark. He realized, blushing slightly, that he had been staring at a blond-haired member of his court to the point where
the anonymous face had begun to rapidly fan herself.

They walked across the ballroom floor, ignoring the dancers that bowed to them, and approached Dorians parents. He
knew what he was expected to do tonight, and the thought of it made him slightly queasy. Spending time with a
person was one thing, but an engagement?

They bowed to his parents, and Dorian almost laughed as his mother winked at him. Despite his attempts to
previously call off the ball, he had, in the past week, helped his mother to plan the final details, devoting hours of his
time for comparing different shades of beige and tasting different ways to cook a pheasant. Granted, he had used his
leverage to convince his mother to have his little announcement time (as she called it) moved to nine, rather than
midnight. He had insisted that midnight might be too dramatic, too ominous for announcing a future wedding. Nine
was a far more romantic time to do it, plus it allowed for any guests wishing to retire early to do soincluding
himself.

Arent you going to ask me to dance? Nicolle asked, batting her long eyelashes after she glanced anxiously at the
staring crowd.

Dorian looked at his parents, who nodded firmly at him, and offered his hand, bowing to the lady as she swept onto
the dance floor, her silk turquoise dress sweeping around her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was almost eight-thirty by the time that Celaena arrived at the palace, and, thankfully, the coachmen had become
so awestruck by the sight of it that they had silenced themselves. It was truly beautiful: made out of shimmering
white marble, the castle sat nestled into the side of a small, sharp mountain, its several dozen lighted turrets like
quicksilver against the dark earth. It had been beautifully decorated: thousands of fires burned along its many
surfaces and towers, revealing not only its size, but also its ornate architecture.

She found it to be far more beautiful than the glass palace at Renaril, and as the fireworks bloomed overhead, it
looked to be a scene out of a childs dream. In fact, she had to fight to control herself from being overwhelmed by the
sight. No matter what she tried to do, she had the most romantic feelings sweeping through her, and she found
herself admiring the castle at such great lengths that it was as if she had never seen one in her life.

The carriage climbed up and up the winding hill to the castle, passing through the capital city, which was a lovely
town made from marble and wood, filled with little shops and grand buildings. Lights were in every window, and
people were in the streets, smiling and laughing as they admired the fireworks.

Celaena knew that she should be nervousin fact, she was surprised that she wasnt sweating profuselybut, for
some reason, she was excited, overjoyed to attend a ball, and to dance with the Crown Prince

What has gotten into you?

Celaena moved her head closer to the window, trying to ignore the people laughing and pointing at the carriage as it
drove by, breathing in a mouthful of the night air.

By the time they did reach the palace gates, which were nearly forty feet high, Celaenas nerves did appear, and she
felt lightheaded as she stepped from the carriage, the old woman grinning at her.

I want you by this entrance all night, Celaena said, looking at the guards that lined either side of the staircase that
led inside. I dont care if that means you have to pay someone, or circle around this Celaena pointed at the
courtyard, which was little more than a massive rotunda in which sat a large, beautiful fountainthing all night. Just
be here when I want to leave.

The old woman nodded, her eyes upon the massive wooden gates.
Celaena, invitation in hand, touched her heart for a moment, rolled her eyes at the woman and stepped away from
the carriage, keeping her gaze upon the stairs as her glass slippers made the final ascent.

She handed her invitation to the guard at the door, who bowed to her as she passed, and Celaena bit down on an
unexpected explosion of giggles. She covered her mouth with hand and hurried in, a deep blush creeping into her
cheeks. She blinked furiously as the mist in the corners of her vision spread slightly, and could barely hear the
fireworks over the booming knells of her heart.

A red carpet covered the alabaster floors of the hall, and flowed up a grand staircase. The hall was impressive: its
ceilings seemed to go on forever, and several staircases poured down between interior balconies and windows. In a
way, it was labyrinthine, and Celaena marveled at it as she walked up the grand staircase, the sound of peopleand
music filling her ears. Her glass shoes seemed so fragile against the solid, thick floor. Time was rushing and slowing
down at once, like a half-frozen waterfall.

You know what you must do, you know why you came here.

Celaena, her dress still a bit too tight, was nearly out of breath when she reached the top of the staircase. Her shoes
were still intact, though she could feel her feet already beginning to swell. She hated wearing anything but flat, soft,
comfortable shoes.

She followed the carpet down a long hall, at the end of which lay two large doors, painted white and gold and
hovering twenty feet in the air. Two footmen stood between them, their chests puffed out. Celaenas heart beat
rapidly as she heard a waltz play, and the many torches on the beige walls made her dress shimmer like a living
landscape as she walked onwards.

For a moment, she felt a terrible weight on her chest, a weight that had nothing to do with corsets or concealed
daggers. Her feet were heavy, so heavy. She saw a face flash before her eyes that made her suddenly exposed, bare
before the looming walls of the castle, but Celaena kept her gaze focused on the ornate doors to the ballroom,
opening her senses to the growing roar of the party.

It was the longest walk of her lifeor at least it felt that way at the time, and as she neared the doors, she could not
help but listen to the other voice in her head that was giddy with excitement, that told her again and again to dance
and dance until her feet fell off. It was more pleasant to listen to this voice than to the other one, and so she did,
throwing that dark, heavy weight deep within her.

The doors were suddenly before her, and the two men stepped aside to let her pass, their blue and red uniforms
pressed and perfect as they looked down the staircase that led to the ballroom. Trumpets suddenly blared a fanfare,
and Celaena walked into the room just as a man that could only be Glaston Ashryver, King of Wendlyn, began to
speak to the massive, beautifully dressed crowd.

Celaena, sensing her poor entrance, took a step back, but the damage was done.

Galan Ashryver, standing at his fathers side, gave a start, his arm suddenly lashing out before his father, who
stopped and looked to see what Galan was staring at.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Celaenas nerves were nearly shattered when hundreds of bejeweled heads turned towards her.

Celaena stood at the top of the staircase, her stomach threatening to empty onto the floor as she heard the crowd
break out in whispers.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

She kept her eyes upon Galan, who was walked towards the stairs, the crowd parting to let him through, repeating
her mantra.

She took a step, her hands gently lifting her skirts as a single, glass-slippered foot stuck out and placed itself down
upon the marble stair, clinking delicately.

The other voice inside of her head faltered.

Breathe in, breath out. Breathe in, breathe out.

The whispers of the crowd scratched at her eardrums so violently that she wished to scream at the top of her lungs.

She took another step, her eyes locked with those of Galan Ashryver, who was smiling at her so earnestly that she
could not help but smile at him as she continued to walk downwards, hoping to avoid a mortifying fall. Her face
burned, but she kept herself calm, never letting her smile waver.

The whispering increased as she reached the last few steps, and, over Galans shoulder, she saw his father motion for
a waltz to begin.

I hoped you would come, he said softly as she reached the last step, taking his hand as she walked into the floor.
He looked very handsomevery grown up, somehow, and she could not deny the way her heart began to race anew.
All she had to do now was wait. Why not dance and have fun? Why not relax for a moment?

Yes, dance and dance!

Trumpets blared again, and the opening notes of a dance sounded throughout the room.

I wouldnt have missed it for the world, she cooed, her blue eyes sparkling as Galan put his hand around her waist
and whisked her off into the waltz.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was as if someone else had entered her body: her eyes felt strange, like a peeping hole that she was trying to share
with someone else, and she could not control the dizzying happiness that was flowing through her. She danced three
waltzes with Galan, and was on her fourth when she forced herself to look away from his smiling face, realizing, with a
bit of embarrassment and dismay, that many eyes were still upon them. She dragged her eyes to the thrones on
which the king and queen sat, and found that Glastons eyes were upon her.

Hues of turquoise and gold clashed, and Celaena looked away, controlling her momentary nausea. She did not see the
Baroness or her two daughters, nor did she think of them as she whirled across the floor.

Her feet kept on moving, one after another, back, forward, to the side, together, forward, on and on as if her body
were becoming more and more distant. The world was in and out of focus, and, try as she might to stop it, her lips
seemed to be permanently spread in a woozy, ridiculous smile. Galan, to her dismay, was smiling back at her, and
every time she remarked upon the similarities between the prince and that of Adarlan, the fog seemed to cloud her
vision more.

There were moments when, just for a split second, she could have sworn that it was Dorian, and during those
hallucinatory gems, she felt as if the entire room changed, as if she were in another land, or another time where her
rage and anger had been settled and where Dorians lazy, arrogant smile was really only for her, and not for some
other preening, rail-thin, little-more-than-a-backstreet-whore who didnt really know what she

Im afraid, Galan breathed as the waltz stopped, his first words since her arrival, that four waltzes is a bit much for
one man. He lowered her hand, though he did not release it as he removed his other from her waist, and Celaena
dropped her skirts upon the floor, the sounds of crystal caressing marble issuing above the beginning waltz.

Would you care for something to drink? Wine? Perhaps a brandy? Galan ignored the fluttering and twittering ladies
that seemed to follow them as they walked off of the dance floor, and walked over to one of the many enormous
marble pillars. The columns were ntermittently spaced before the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and doors that led out
into what seemed to be a patio or garden. Royal blue velvet curtains draped across the upper portions of the windows,
held in wave-like bunches by golden ties that glittered in the glowing light of the ballroom. Outside, Celaena could see
a star-splattered sky over a maze of endless emerald hedges, fountains, and clusters of exotic flowers. Despite the
several couples walking around the garden, it seemed to be out of a faerie tale or a painting.

Galan stopped at the pillar and smiled at her. Celaena, unable to stop herself, smiled back, her heart thumping in a
most unusual pattern.

You wait here, the prince grinned, jerking his head at an area of the ballroom that had been designated for food and
drink. Ill bring you back something to drink. Are you hungry? Because I could easily get you
No, no, she said, her eyes on the verge of bulging from her head as she realized that even her voice sounded
different. There had to be something strange, something magickal going onPerhaps one of the faeries had enchanted
her

Winered, please, is perfect.

Galan stared at her for a moment, and Celaena found enough control to raise her eyebrows.

He laughed, his golden face lighting up. Im sorry, but its justI mean, after all thats happened in these past few
months He blushed, and chuckled. What I mean is that its wonderful to see you here.

Celaena tried to bite down on her tongue, she tried so hard to keep her mouth shut, but it was to no avail. A giggle
ridiculously high-pitched and feminineburst from her throat. Her hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes widened
as her cheeks burned, but Galan merely laughed and walked away, shaking his head as a group of young women
timidly followed behind him.

Celaena sighed, the mist around her eyes fading as she blinked several times, and looked around the ballroom.
Bedecked in golds and blues and greens with delicate trees lit by hundreds of tiny lanterns, it was almost as lovely as
Doranelle. The dance floor, lying between the stairs and the thrones of the Royal Family, was enormous, and Celaena
hastily looked away as she saw two crowned heads peering in her direction. Glittering banners and flags hung from
the domed ceiling, and a grand chandelier, made entirely of crystal and gold branches that formed into the shape of
an exotic flower, hung above it all like a sun. It was far lovelier than Adarlans ballroom, which Celaena had only
glimpsed twice and found to be overdone and tacky, and the people, while she had been introduced to no one,
seemed to be a good deal happier than those in Adarlan.

In fact, she had rarely seen so many smiling facesespecially faces smiling at her. Nearly everyone who walked by
either curtsied or bowed or did some embarrassing movement of the sort, and Celaena was barely able to return their
wide smiles before they passed by. There was a twinkle in every pair of eyes that suggested oneor perhaps bothof
two things, neither of which Celaena cared to dwell on.

It seems as if you took my advice, said a kind and amused voice to her right, and Celaena turned to find Raal
Hynter standing at her side. He bowed to her, and Celaena awkwardly curtsied, her glass shoes feeling more and
more insecure by the moment.

My Lord, she said coyly, looking at him from beneath a veil of lashes. She raised herself, admiring his fine clothes in
the process.

Princess, he said, nodding his head at her crown.

Celaena bit down on her tongue and crossed her arms.

Its a lovely crown, he said, grinning, Where on earth did you get it?

Celaena stared out upon the crowd and leaned against the pillar, enjoying the cool stone against her sweat-soaked
back. I want to thank you for what you have done for my friend Lucaor, should I say Luca of the House of Ghent.

Raal shook his head. You need not thank methe Baron had pretty much made up his mind before I ran into him.
Luca is a good manfar better than BrennI think that he and the Baron will find each other to be good
companions.

Hes getting married, you know, Celaena said, biting down on her own bit of frustration and misery.

So I heardif I do not see him before you do, tell him I send my congratulations.

I will, Celaena said awkwardly, grinding her teeth as an uncomfortable silence ensued. Listening to the pleasant
waltz, they stared out upon the assembled guests, who were still smiling at Celaena.

How is your arm? she asked, smiling nervously.

Ah, Raal said, touching his shoulder. It healed, but the scar is quite ugly.
Celaena snorted and nodded.

After a moment, Raal spoke again. I see that youre still wearing the ring I gave youI was almost certain that you
would throw it into the nearest body of water.

Its pleasant to look at, Celaena replied, looking down at her hands.

Does it also imply a change of mind?

About? Celaena replied, too quickly.

Raal snorted. About He stopped, and frowned as he saw Galan approaching. Would you care to dance?

Celaena raised her eyebrows.

Its rather selfish of me, but Id like to have you to myself for a few more moments, Raal admitted, and took her by
the elbow, winking at Galan as they walked past. The mist around her eyes suddenly reappeared as he neared, and
Celaena fought against the urge to return to him. The prince, holding two goblets of wine, looked confused, but smiled
nonetheless and resumed his place beside the pillar.

They entered into a circle of dancers, and Celaena blushed upon noticing the many wide-eyed, open-mouthed faces
that turned to look at her. But Raal seemed to not notice as he took her waist and her right hand, and quickly whisked
her into the waltz. Celaena had never heard it before, but the beat was familiar, so she found that her feet had no
trouble in following Raals careful footsteps.

What lovely glass shoes! Raal grinned, looking down for a moment. A gift from some handsome prince in a faraway
land?

The mist cleared again, and Celaena felt a pang of icy cold that made the lights dim for a moment. The clock chimed
half past nine, and Celaenas step faltered as they whirled past the King and Queen of Wendlyn.

Remember what it is you came here to do. Remember.

Im sorry if I offended you, Raal said hastily. I justwell, it is very surprising to see you here, and there are many
things that Id like to ask you.

His hazel eyes were golden beneath the shimmering chandelier, and Celaena could not help but find him charming. He
was not very handsome, though he was certainly not plain, but there was something so genuinely kind about him that
she could not help but feel close.

Like what? she replied.

Well, if you dont mind my prying, what your Trial was likewhat did you do? Both Galan and I are to have Trials in a
few yearsits a bit nerve-wracking, Ill admit, but apparently we are to begin training with the Fae as soon as Maeve
Summons us. I think that we were to have begun this year, but apparently someone more important took our spots.

Celaena smiled slightly.

Well? Raal asked, spinning her around him. Before answering, Celaena admired the way her dress wound and
unwound around her figure.

Well, if you must know, Celaena said, giving into temptation, my original task was to dream of some nonsense and
make some sort of judgment that would be indicative of who I am, but I kind of ruined that.

Raal raised his eyebrows and then nodded at an old man as he passed by.

So what happened?

Celaena sighed, already knowing his response to her next statement.

I destroyed a Draied, and was almost eaten by the forest as a result, then I had to cross a horrible swamp with tons
of quickmire, and then I had to kill this swamp witch, Morghan, who wanted to eat me alive as well, and then I finally
had to slay three Valg.

Raonn blinkedonce, twiceand then burst out laughing.

Youre either a superb liar or delusionalare you sure that wasnt the dream you were supposed to have?

Celaena scowled. I had the dream after I fell unconscious from a battle with a Valg crone.

And what were the other two Valg?

Well, one was a Satyr and the other was a Doppelgnger who was really wretched, but I outsmarted him into
stepping into quickmireand then beheaded him.

Raal, still incredulous, laughed again. As much as Id like to call you a storyteller, somehow Im not surprised.

Celaena clicked her tongue, and squeezed his calloused hand.

Well, anyone who could teach a farm boy to joust, of all things, surely has to have some ability to handle a sword or
whatever weapons it is you userumor has it, its an enchanted sword.

Goldryn? Celaena exclaimed, not thinkingagain.

Raal staggered, but then chuckled. Once more, I am not surprised. It seems only suitable that you would have
Goldryn, the legendary sword of Athrilthough, I thought that the sword was lost long ago. Where did you manage to

Peregrinno, Celaena said bluntly. And, if you wish to know, my crown is from my initiation ceremony to the Fae,
and yes, I was tattooed on my back, and yes, I did arrive here in a carriage shaped like a pumpkin, and no, I am not
romantically involved with the Fae Prince Raonn, and yes, I did receive a Fae horse for my birthday, and yes, I did
light the Opal Tower however long ago that was, and no, I am not remaining in Wendlyn for long.

Celaena sighed and frowned.

Raals face, which had been full of amusement, was now serious. Youreyoure intending to return to Adarlan?

Was that foolish to say? You moron!

Well, in a little while, Celaena said sheepishly. Her thoughts immediately returned to the subject that hurt most, and
she straightened her back.

But thatsI mean, are you going to return as Aelin or as whatever alias youve been usingEle, isnt it?

She had not meant for the conversation to turn this way, but, unable to find a way out of it, she answered.

I dont knowI dont see the point of returning to Adarlan just to hide, but I also know that its

Suicide, Raal finished for her.

If I can slay three Valg, a Draied, and a swamp witch, I dont think a tyrant will be much of a difficulty.

You are madone minute youre ready to assassinate Wendlyns king, and the next youre ready to start a civil war!

The waltz was coming to a close, and Celaena twirled one last time.

Get control over yourselfDorian left you, remember? Any attempt to overthrow the royal house cant be
accomplished without himhes just a traitorous, cowardly, spineless boy who cant keep his mind out of his pants or
his hands to himself. Aelin Galathynius you might be, but Celaena Sardothien needs to survive as wellshe needs an
audience with the King of Adarlan

Yes, well, lets hope thats how it will work out, Raal said softly as he led her to where Galan was still standing with
two other boys that Celaena immediately recognized as Raals brothers. Like their sibling, they had neither exquisite
looks, but their smiles were so enticing that they seemed handsome.

May I introduce you to my brothers, Uli and Kapo Hynter, Raal said, his smile back upon his face. The young men
bowed, looking at each other, then at Celaena, with flushed faces.

Uli, Kapothe Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Celaena curtsied, fighting the scowl that rose to her face at the title he attached, and smiled at the two boys. Its a
pleasure to meet you twohopefully, you only resemble your brother in face and not in mannerisms.

The boys chuckled, and Celaena looked at Galan, who was laughing with them. She felt the breath sucked from her
chest, and immediately she heard that other voice in her head. It was as if the room was empty, and as if there were
no ceiling or floorshe was flying, over mountains and meadows and glens, and she

Stop it! Stop it!

It was to her great dismay and horror that Celaena realized that she was staring, a bit open-mouthed, at Galan
Ashryver; but that was nothing compared to the embarrassment she felt when she realized that Galan was staring
back at her with the same strange expression.

The Hynter brothers looked back and forth between the couple, amused and a bit befuddled.

Ae Raal began.

Would you like to dance? Celaena asked Galan, who handed the two goblets he was still holding to Uli and Kapo, and
nodded. Smiling, he took her outstretched hand as he led her from the pillar, away from the baffled group, and onto
the dance floor.

His hand on her waist made the hair on her arms stand up, and she found herself staring at the reflection of her
crown in Galans eyesher eyes. It was a lovely crownand it looked even lovelier on her, as if it was made for her,
or rather she was made only to wear crowns.

For a second, barely a second, Celaena glimpsed a face in her eyes that was not hersit looked like her, but it wasnt
her. It was someone smaller, more slender and delicate-looking, but she was wearing her clothes and her crown. It
wasIt was

Aelinmay I call you that? Galan said, smiling nervously at her, I know that weve really onlyI mean, we dont
know each other that well, but I feel as if weve

I know, the other Celaena said, I feel the same way. Her voice was light and gentle, and somewhere deep inside
Celaena, an assassins voice was screaming at the top of her lungs. I feel as if I mightas if I might never come back
down to earth again, as if I want to ring every bell in the country and

I couldnt agree more! Galan gushed, the circlet on his head reflecting the glittering jewels around him. There was a
crescendo of music, and Celaena felt herself suddenly whisked away in a passionate spin as the musicand the fog
took control of everything.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard danced with Nicolle, feeling the oddest sensation. There were times, when they passed by a
reflective surface, that he saw not Nicolle, but rather the golden-haired siren that still haunted his thoughts, a
sparkling crown upon her head. She wore a dress that looked foreign, but was still beautifulin fact, he could barely
tear his eyes off of her. It wasnt until Nicolle stamped upon his foot, reminding him that he was dancing with her and
not his reflection, that Dorian realized that something was amisssomething bizarre was happening.
Things are over with Celaenawith Aelinyou ended things, you ended that connection, all of those strange dreams

Dorian spun Nicolle, ignoring the pairs of eyes upon them. She was a blur of black and turquoisethe color, almost
the exact color, of Celaenas eyes.

He clasped his hand around Nicolles waist again, and found himself staring into the face of his assassin, her cheeks
flushed, and her lips, like a budding pink rose, pulled back to reveal her dazzling, white smile. His heart began to beat
wildly, like someones hand was clamped around it while it tried to burst from his chest and run at full speed across a
dark ocean.

Its the wineit must have been bad wine

This is a lovely ball, isnt it? Celaena said, though it was not her voice.

Yes, Dorian breathed, his mouth slightly open. She was so beautifulin a different and refreshing wayhe couldnt
help but

She betrayed you and would have fed you to the dogs!

Instantly, her face melted into the tan skin and dark, dark eyes of Nicolle DeLemanscon, her golden hair turning into
tight, chocolate curls, and her sparkling crown fading into the glass chandelier above. There was something so muted
with Nicolle, something that seemed less alive

The waltz continued onward, and the clock struck seven thirty. In less than two hours, he would be announcing his
engagement to this woman, who knew little to nothing about the world outside of her own tutored realm, and whose
eyes were so, so black

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

They danced without interruption for countless waltzes, flying through them as if they were mere flashes in time. As
much as she might like to have used it as an excuse to find continued support in her fury, the continued transition
between Galan and Dorians face only sent her further into whatever hallucinations she tried to prescribe to herself.
Each time she saw the Crown Princes face, she was suddenly in a realm made of clouds and stars, where their only
companions were the faerie lights that pulsed around them. He was beautifully dressed, and his smile made her face
burn.

Her heart was beating so rapidly that she did not notice when this realm faded back into reality: Galan looked so
much like Dorian that they became blurred together. She did not hear the words coming from her own mouth, and
each of hisso heartfelt and tendermade everyone in the room disappear.

Soon, she could no longer hear the music, and Celaena found herself waltzing through the glass doors, which opened
for them without assistance, and into the moonlit garden.

Her glass shoes clinked against the slate-covered ground as Galan led her around a fountain, his blue eyes pulsating.
Celaena barely knew where they were when they stopped dancing, and, out of breath, allowed herself to be seated on
a stone bench overlooking a still pond. Stars and lily pads alternated across the smooth surface, and Celaena watched
with amazement as Galan walked to the waters edge and squatted on the side.

He passed his hand over a closed lily, and it opened to reveal a white and gold interior that looked as if the sun itself
had been caught within its closing petals. Galan cut the lily from its stalk and returned to Celaena, handing her the
flower in his outstretched hand. Celaena took the flower, which was still wet, and admired its intricate design. She had
never really appreciated the water lilybut nownow it seemed to be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Galan took her spare hand in his and clasped it between his, gently, tenderly.

Aelin, I

Suddenly, everything became real. She felt the cold night air upon her face, and the dampness of the flower in her
hand. She was with Galan Ashryver, not Dorian DeHavilliard, who had betrayed and left her for some commonplace
harlot courtier!
You fool! You damned, idiotic, romantic fool! What have you been doing?

She turned from him, her eyes wide, and was about to remove her hand when Galan tightened his grip. She trembled
slightly.

Im herenothing can harm you, he said strongly. I want you to forget all of your dark fears, all of your horrible
historyI wont let anyone harm you again.

Celaena stared at the bench, her heart beating wildly.

Youre safe, no one can harm you hereno one will find you, he repeated, so earnestly that Celaena, of her own
will, turned to look at Galan. She found a young man, handsome and kind and brave, staring at her with eyes so full
of love that her heart, confused and cold, felt warm. It throbbed with the knowledge that there was someone to keep
it safe, to protect it from the harsh winds of the world.

II know, she said, her own voice weak and trembling. Things here seem so clear, so open and wild, and I wish as
if I could stay in Wendlyn forever. Youyou and Raal and all of these wonderful people have just made everything
seem right, seem as if this is the way the world were supposed to be.

Galan smiled gently, Then staydont return to Adarlan.

How did you?

Galan took one of his hands from hers and brushed her cheek. They were good hands: strong and sturdy, but still soft
and caringsensitive and loving. Eavesdroppingeven from great distancesis an old Ashryver magick trick. His
eyes were lit with joy that Celaena had once feltand, looking into them, she felt as if she could feel that way again,
but this time, for this young man who offered to shield her from everything that sought to destroy her.

Aelin, he said, I know that this must sound so damned clumsy and foolish, but Galan took a deep, shaking
breath. From the moment Ive met you, all that Ive wanted to do is share everythingevery moment and minute
and hourwith you. I dont know why, but Ive felt this connection, this bond between us that I cant sever. I said
before, ages and ages ago, that it wasnt true love, that it was a family bond, but I still just cant deny what I feel

She didnt know why, but Celaena felt her eyes moisten. These were words that anyoneany woman, princess or
pauper, wished, dreamed of hearing uttered from a man, let alone a prince

Please, AelinIjustWhat I mean is that He took a steadying breath, blushing. Pleaseanywhere you go, just
take me with you.

She could have loved him in that moment, forgotten everything else and taken him as her own, but his words, so
perfect and heart-felt, were ones that she had wanted to hearwith her own earsfrom another. They were ones she
had thought of, dreamt of, but they were not supposed to come from his mouth.

The air turned colder, tinted with a hint of the spring rains that were coming, and there was a distant rumble of
thunder over the mountain. A bell began to ring. It was half-past eleven. What had she been doing all evening?

Some spell or another has been cast upon you! You

Celaena suddenly found it. A silver thread in the back of her eyes, leading into dark recesses that expanded over
plains and gulliesa thread that led to another pair of eyes, another pair of romantic, silly eyes

Celaena, furious, summoned a whip of fire and sliced the thread, severing the line. She felt her heart weighed down,
wrapped in the blankets of ice that she had embraced since Dorian DeHavilliard had decided to ruin everything.

Her hate devoured her. These were all just words. Galan had not kissed her, so his words were empty and unfulfilled,
and Dorian had not physically loved her, so his words were worse than Galansthey were lies. Everything was just
one scheme, one enormous plot for conquest and destruction. Thats what both of them wanted: to control her, hide
her from the world.
She would have no more of it. She would have no more of pawns and of hollow phrases. She would have no more lies
and schemes. This would be the last of them, this would be the end of it.

Celaena felt more than a little sense of wicked triumph as a page suddenly appeared, and informed them that King
Glaston had requested her presenceprivatelyin his chambers.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael looked out the window of Celaena Sardothiens apartment, frowning at the thousands of lights that
illuminated the glass palace. Somewhere, thousands of miles across the ocean, there was another ball, hopefully not
another example of the epitome of debauchery, but rather elegant and calm, full of beautiful women in sparkling
dresses.

Chaol knew that CelaenaAelinwas expected at the ball, and what she was expected to do. He imagined how she
would look: beautiful, as usual, an air of calm about her but her blue eyes revealing a spark of nervousness that could
easily be mistaken for excitement. She had probably managed to get her hands on a crown or some sort of jeweled
accessory that would catch the eye of the young men in the room, and her neck, long and snow-white, would carry
her poised head with the grace of a swan. She would smile at everyone, perhaps scowl at the girls who sneered at
her, and would bowever so slightlyto the King and Queen.

Perhaps Prince Galan Ashryver would ask her to danceperhaps he would fall in love with her. Men of royal birth
tended to stray along that path.

Wishing you were at the ball? Arobynn chuckled from the fire, his silver earring shining in the warm light.

Chaol turned and frowned at the Assassin Lord. Not this one.

He looked at the glass palace again. It was almost nine oclockalmost midnight in Wendlyn. Had she completed her
task already? Was she already fleeing from the royal guard, trying to make her way to the coast to catch a boat and
return to Adarlan? Or was she still with her prince, smiling as he declared that he had not lived until today, until his
eyes had fallen upon her fair face, and how could he live when they were parted? Would she kiss him, woo him, or
would she remark on this being just another day on her own, marvel at the lack of another prince who had abandoned
her for less worthy replacement?

Chaol bit down on his lip. Arobynn had informed him of the rumors spreading across Renaril: Dorian would announce
his engagement to Nicolle DeLemanscon tonight. It was a bit of a shock, but he was not surprised. Dorian must have
discovered who Celaena really wasthings just had to add up. Aelin Galathynius had won the battle at Peregrinno
and then the Opal Tower was ignited, but the young queen was nowhere to be found soon after word about the battle
leaked outDorian would be a fool to not have figured it out by now. Chaol wished that he had been able to see the
Opal Tower light itself those many days ago. Apparently, it was still burning just as brightly as it had on Aelins
birthday, and candles still lit doorways of most homes on Trasien to welcome home their long-lost queen.

Things were now moving quickly: word would arrive soon about Wendlyns fateperhaps with Aelins own ship. Would
she then murder Adarlans king and reclaim her throne? Or would she perhaps survive her passage into the country
and use her freedom to sneak into

No. The king would never let her leave the palace alive.

The glass palace shimmered like a faerie tower of the dark days, pillars of light shooting up from pure darkness. All
that stood between Aelin and sure death were two men, one of them old and the other so hotheaded that he might
take drastic measures that would get them all killed. She needed Dorians protectionhis clemency would have stayed
his fathers hand

Only days remained now. One day more, and the fate of the remnants of the free world would be changed forever.

She would never do it. She would never kill the king of Wendlyn, her own relative. But if she returned to Adarlan
without completing her task

As much as he desired to return to glass palace, Chaol knew that his place was hereto fight with them to restore
Trasiens rightful ruler to the throne.
The clock chimed a dirge that signaled it was quarter to nine.

Just one more day.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The walk to King Glastons chambers was long and silent. Two guards escorted her, each young men with throats that
would be easy targets for her knife, should the need arise. There were not a few minutes to midnightthe clang of
the clock would cover any screaming.

By now, she had the feeling that her makeup was probably flaking and faded, but she kept her chin high and sturdy in
the air. Though the black-clad figure that had once stalked through Renaril felt far away, Celaena rallied it to her
heart. She did not know Glaston, she did not know any member of the royal family save Galan. If the King of Adarlan
demanded it, if this is what she must do in order to earn her freedomin order to escape

Heartbreak or noprince or no, crown or a noose, she knew the age-old saying: the show must go on.

The guards stopped at a door that led down an impossibly long hallway. There was only one door at the end of the
passageway, and no guards stood before it. They were all stationed outside the palace, looking for any possible
intruders.

Celaena nodded to her escorts, and as the great, white doors closed behind her, time slowed down. Her shoes were a
drumbeat on the blood red carpet, and Celaena drowned in the numbing rage that burst from her heart as she
approached the door to the kings chamber from beneath lowered brows.

It was only a few feet now.

The show must go on.

She reached into her bodice and drew forth the concealed dagger, shivering as it slithered past her breasts. This is
what she had been trained to do, what she had done hundreds of times before.

One flick of the wrist and its over.

Her spare hand extended out to the gold and white doors.

Dorian had betrayed her, left her.

The metal of the handle was cold and hard against her grip, and Celaena smoothly concealed her dagger up her
sleeve as the door cracked open.

Just another minuteanother minute and youre free.

The door opened wide, revealing a roaring fire and a handsome study. A figuretall and slenderstood before the
fire, silhouetted against the bright light. The door closed gently behind her. They were alone.

Do what is necessary.

She stepped towards him, her movements calm and calculated. He was staring at something on the mantle, a painting
of some sort.

Throw the knife in his back, you know where to aim.

The knife slipped back into Celaenas hand, and her wrist contracted, the muscles straining themselves into the
position that would guarantee success.

Do it now.

Her arm, slowly, began to rise, the figure getting closer with every step of her glass slippers.
Do it now!

Her elbow pivoted, and her muscles, sore with dancing, ached as she lifted the dagger into the air. It was all so slow

DO IT! The dagger was heavy as Celaena positioned it into place, her wrist trembling slightly as she cocked it back.
KILL HIM!

But then, as Celaena felt the daggers weight lean towards the floor, she glanced upjust for a momentat the
painting that the king was still silently observing.

There before her stood the young Evaelien Ashryver.

Though her lips were parted in a smile, her eyes seemed to be hardserious, condemning.

The King, whom she had not glimpsed properly, turned to look at Celaena, his eyes immediately going wide. He was
as old as her mother would have been, and he lookedhe looked

The clock struck twelve, its boom wild and frantic.

The dagger dropped from Celaenas hand, barely missing her skirts as it clanked onto the stone floor like a screaming
baby.

I was all that Celaena said before she turned on her heel and fled.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The clock struck nine, and Dorian stood beside his parents thrones, waiting for the guests to stop clapping. Nicolle
was standing at his side, smiling so widely that he thought her cheeks would snap. He could see Aedion and Tiryn in
the crowd, but he ignored them and raised a hand to silence the crowd.

The clock struck its second cry, booming over the noise.

Here it goes.

Dorian cleared his throat, fighting the nausea in his stomach. Behind him, he could hear his mother and father
chuckling at the excited crowd: apparently, everyone had been waiting for him to get married. He had rarely seen his
parents share a smile together, let alone laugh, and

Quiet settled over the ballroom as the clock finished its second chime. Dorian raised his chin, dissolving the face that
would not stop showing itself in his mind, and opened his mouth.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena threw the doors open to the hallway and ran as if her feet were on fire, reaching the other set of doors by the
time the clock had finished its first chime. She hurled herself into them, sending the two guards flying forward, half-
turning to see them stare, puzzled, at her flight.

She didnt know how to escape except for the way that she had come.

She saw faces, saw her mothers face, so condemning and disappointed, flash before her eyes as she flew down
hallway after hallway, holding her skirts high. She rushed down a flight of stairs, the noise from the ballroom
becoming louder by the moment.

She ran faster than she had with the Doppelgnger behind her, her eyes white and wild. There was a set of doors that
led to the ballroom, followed by a narrow flight of stairs that led down to the main levelShe would have to pass by
this, pass through the crowds and Galan and Raal and the Queen and up the grand staircase and through those doors
and down that passageway and down another staircase and then out the front gates.
Would the guards, surely knowing another, faster way, already be there? Would the best way be through the garden?
She could hide in the woods, in the

No, they had magick. Theyd find her. She needed the speed of her carriage, of horses

Her breath caught in her throat as the tight bindings of her dress sought to keep her lungs from expanding, but
Celaena did not slow her speed as she barreled into the set of doors that led to the ballroom.

The brightness of the chandelier hit her eyes like an exploding sun, and instantly, Celaenas vision blurred. She could
feel her glass slippers protesting as she clung to the banister and propelled herself down the narrow marble staircase.
She rushed into the crowd, ignoring the shocked and staring faces, and pushed countless people from her path,
desperately trying to regain her sight.

She was halfway through the ballroom when she found herself suddenly in Adarlan, though it was as if she were
looking from a windowa diamond paned glass windowdown at an assembled crowd.

Her feet staggered and she slowed, her hands flying to her eyes.

Galan Ashryver rushed forward, calling her name repeatedly, but Celaena did not hear him as she crashed into him
and hurled him onto the floor. She ran forward and back, trying to find the ground beneath her, trying to find the
staircase, but all that she could see was Adarlan.

She saw Dorian DeHavilliard standing with his parents upon a podium, a young womandark haired and clad in
turquoisestanding beside him. He was saying something, making some speech.

The clocks were too loud, too loud!

Celaena pounded on the window, and then rushed forward as if to jump through.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

In a glass palace a thousand miles away, the heads of Aedion Ashryver and Tiryn, Minister of Trasien, were turned
away from the spectacle on the podium, staring open-mouthed as they saw Aelin Galathynius stand in the window
high above the ground, pounding with invisible fists as she let out noiseless screams. She was dressed as if she were
at a ball, as if she were late in arriving, and her face was twisted with anguish as she looked upon Dorian DeHavilliard
and his bride-to-be.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She was like a wild bird in a net. She scratched at her face, trying to reclaim her sight, and suddenly heard
everything. Another knell issued across the ballroom.

It is my great honor and privilege to announce he paused for effect, a slow smile her smilespreading across his
face.

Celaena beat the window with her fist and screamed Dorians name. This was real, this was real.

My engagement to the Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon. The crowd cheered wildly as Dorian took her hand and raised it in
the air, the woman touching her heart and batting her eyelashes.

Celaena screamed aloud, not a cry filled with terror or pain, but the cry of a breaking heart shattering into countless
pieces.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The clock struck again, and there was a crash that silenced the crowd in Adarlan. All eyes turned to the window as a
wild swan hurled itself through the glass, graceful and beautiful even as it fell to the floor, crystal and blood flying
everywhere. The beast collided with the ground in a horrid thud and slid across the floor, its neck limp, and stopped at
the foot of the podium just as the General and the Minister pushed their way through the crowd. A single shard of
glass protruded from its heart, and its blood
A male roar ripped through the broken window, carried on a wind from across the ocean.

Dorian DeHavilliard stared at the dead swan, raising his eyes only to find Aedion Ashryver staring at him with a look of
despair on his face.

What have you done? the General whispered, his eyes moist, as the blood of the swan, originally leaking down its
chest into the unmistakable shape of a stag, began to pool on the floor and Aelins name echoed through the silent
ballroom.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She was running again, this time up the grand staircase, ignoring the screams of Galan Ashryver behind her. She was
barely able to breathe when she reached the top, but clock struck its seventh chime, and she was fueled onwards.
There were footsteps behind her, and someone calling her name frantically, but she did not stop.

She would be hung, hung and buried in a nameless grave.

She saw her mothers frown, Glastons surprised face, and Galans loving eyes, eyes that she had betrayed just as
Dorian had fed her to the wolves, and

She had failed, she had failed her mission.

Celaena ran down another set of steps, reaching the main floor of the palace. The grand doors were before her, and
the guards were chatting amongst themselves as Celaena came crashing down them, Galan Ashryver following
behind.

She flew past the guards, tears now leaking past her eyes as she fought to regain control of her ruined life, forgetting
all thoughts of magick and queens and kings as she hurried down the stairs.

Finally, at long last, the shoes could not support her anymore, and Celaenas ankle snapped as the heel caught on the
edge of the red-carpet covered stairs that led to the outside realm. Her foot shot up behind her, and her face
contorted in pain as her ankle twisted and a single glass slipper flew from her foot.

She didnt even hear it shatter upon the ground as she half-fell, half-hurled herself into her waiting carriage and
screamed at the drivers to go.

Galan Ashryver skidded to a stop as he saw an object flying towards him, glittering like a shooting star. It flew slowly,
or rather time slowed as the clock chimed eleven, and it landed upon the marble floor and did not break. Galan stared
down in dismay as a glass slipper slid towards him and stopped at his feet.

He grabbed the shoethe only link he now had to Aelin Galathyniusand ran forward to see her carriage fly through
the palace gates, her head sticking out the window to watch him. Her face was distorted with terror and painhad his
father said or done something?

Galan ran towards the gate, clutching the shoe to his chest as he bellowed her name into the night. The noise ripped
from his throat like a bestial roar, and Galan tossed his crown onto the ground as he screamed for the guards to
mount their horses and follow her into the night.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

They flew through the capital faster than Celaena could have imagined a carriage of its size being capable of moving,
the sounds of pursuit already coming from the palace.

Her hair had flown free, and Celaena wiped her smeared face clean of tears as she screamed at the coachmen to drive
faster. They were not three miles from the chateau when the royal guard could be heard behind them. They were
going to hang her, they were going to beat and stone her to death, or perhaps just leave her in a prison to rot.

She tried to breathe, but the air was not coming in. Looking down at her dress, Celaena grabbed it in her hands and
ripped it in two, peeling herself out of it as she frantically sought the night air. She gulped it down, not caring that she
was now in her under shirt and pants, and yelled for them to hurry. The coachmen whipped the horses faster, and
Celaena stuck her head out the window to see a host of lighted lanterns fast approaching.

They neared rounded a bend, heading towards a narrow bridge, and Celaena acted. Using their temporary
concealment, she flung open the door to the carriage and landed upon the bank of the small creek, the coachmen not
even noticing her disappearance as the door slammed shut. She bounced down the rock-covered banks, wincing as
hard stones cut into her bottom before she landed face-first in muddy water.

Celaena raised her head to see the carriage disappear around another bend, but barely had time to catch her breath
before the sound of horses neared and Celaena scrambled beneath the wooden bridge, grasping onto a post as what
felt like a hundred horses galloped across it.

Though muddied and cold, Celaena waited until the night air was silent again. Melancholy thunder grumbled overhead,
and Celaena dragged herself from the trench, and began the long walk home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She found Cindrillion asleep in the woods about a mile from the chateau, a Faerie cloak covering her slender form.
There were no guards around, or at least no one had paid attention to the sleeping peasant, and Celaena sighed as
she looked down upon her friend.

It had been Cindrillion in her mind, and she had stolen Cindrillions dress, along with her hopes for some sort of
magickal night.

Youre a monster, a genuine waste of space.

Celaena began to walk away, unsure of where she planned to go now that she was a wanted criminal, and then
stopped as she felt her unbalanced walk. She glanced at her feet and found a glass slipper still upon her foot,
unbroken and glittering in the moonlight. Slowly, sorely, Celaena bent down and removed the small shoe.

Thank you, she whispered into Cindrillions ear as she tucked the glass slipper into the girls pocket, Thank you for
everything.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was raining now, the new moon had been covered by dark rain clouds that did little to help Celaena navigate
through the forest. She did not care that her feet were bare and bloodied, or that her skin was numb from the
stinging rain. She did not know where she lost her crownit could have been back at the palace for all she knewbut
she had lost it, and felt terrible.

Everything was ruined. There was now not a soul who could help her, or love her. She had tried to murder her own
kin for a tyrant, for a man who had murdered her family.

Celaena trudged through the rain, her face smeared with dirt. She grabbed onto a bush as she staggered forward, and
cried aloud as the branches turned out to be thorns that sliced through and imbedded themselves her raw palms.

She was no queenhow could she manage a countrys welfare when she couldnt even maintain a semblance of
sanity?

She was alternating running with walking, to where and from what she was beginning to lose track of, but soon it just
became mindless trudging so she just stopped caring.

I would like to announce my engagement to the Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon.

The ground soon became softer, but Celaena took no notice as the sentence began to repeat itself in her head. She
could see Dorians face, happy and beautiful, smiling at that girl, that dark haired, tan-skinned girl with the strangely
shaped eyes

He didnt love her.

He actually was going to marry another woman.

He didnt love her.

Celaena couldnt breathe, everything was spinning and she couldnt tell where life and death ended and began, where
her heart stopped screaming and hurting from where her body starting screaming and hurting.

He didnt love her.

She staggered into a clearing, ignorant of her surroundings. She couldnt breathe. The world was just a void, open
and gaping, and she was drowning, drowning in everything.

I would like to announce my engagement to the Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon.

She felt as if all of her insides were a black mess of passageways leading nowhere, and everywhere she turned, she
could only hear those words, those words that doomed her into loneliness and sorrow ringing out like a chiming clock.

Not since her parents death had she felt suddenly so exposed and alone, and now she felt as if she might die from
this sudden pain that threatened to rip everything inside of her apart.

He doesnt love me, she said, her voice trembling as tears finally began to slide down her face.

There was a stump in the middle of the clearing, and Celaena dropped to her knees as she saw what was carved into
its smooth surface. The earth was mushy and soft beneath her legs, and the rain pelted down unceasingly upon her
head.

He doesnt love me, she said, her eyes a mess of blue and gold and black as her voice broke and she threw her
arms over the stump and wept.

Celaena did not notice the dozens of glittering eyes that gathered around the faerie clearing that night to guard over
her, or the falcon that sat on the tree branch above, watching as the young queen clung to the only physical remnants
of her parents and sobbed as her heart broke, and broke, and broke.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

It was in the hour before dawn that Celaena Sardothien awoke, stiff and freezing, feeling a deadness of spirit that
made her immediately rise and walk from the clearing with the same indirection as the night before. She did not
glance at her parents stump, or at the odd assortment of animals that were walking back towards the direction of
Doranelle.

Her heart was broken, of that she was sure, and, having never suffered from a true broken heart before, Celaena
found that the best way to deal with it was to let her eyes remain dry and trudge on, though to where she did not
know. All that she knew was that she wanted to keep on walking, and walk until her legs collapsed.

The forest was silent around her, and the muddy ground sucked at her ankles, cutting at her skin with twigs and
stones as she dragged herself through the forest. She was hungry, but did not know where to find food. Somehow,
she knew that she had to return to the chateau, but Celaena continued onwards, finding some solace in the burning
pain of her legs as she began a steep upwards climb.

Trees and large stones passed her by, and she walked through streams without wincing at the icy sharpness that bit
at her toes, or at the sharp and slippery rocks that cut her feet further. She didnt care if her feet became stumps of
shredded flesh, or if some animal decided to rip her apart.

Everything felt gray, gray and cold like the predawn sky.

Up and up she climbed, until she reached a hill larger than all the rest. It could have been a Tor, one of the ancient
hiding places of the Fae during the Valg wars, or it could have just been a big, dead, hunk of festering earth.

She slipped and slid and fell on the hill, but she grunted her way up it, her hands digging deep into the mud as she
clawed her way upwards.
Everything was ruined. All of her hopes for being queen, all of her chances of freedom, everything with Dorian was
ruined.

Somewhere in her mind, she was slightly embarrassed at the wreck that she had become, but that embarrassment
over her tears and mourning was little compared to feeling of being such a disgrace to her parents and friends and
family.

She now knew that Dorian was not going to marry her, in fact, he was probably being married today, or he was tightly
wrapped in the arms of that Nicolle woman. She had been wrong to put her trust into him, to invest so much
emotionally that she could fall apart like this.

But what did it matter if she fell apart or not? He did not love her, so her wasted heart was now nothing to him. He
would not care that she was dying, alone and unloved, nor would he care that she was now doomed to die in either
country.

Celaena struggled upwards, her breathing labored.

I would like to announce my engagement to the Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon.

It hurt and burned every time she thought of it.

Celaena reached the top of the hill, tears appearing again as she stood, looking out over the silent countryside, the
first pink of dawn appearing in the sky.

Who cared if she was Celaena Sardothien or Aelin Galathynius? Who cared if she could do magick, or that she could
slay three Valg, if Dorian, Prince of nearly all the world, did not love her?

He didnt love her.

It was all a waste, a waste of time and energy and bloodlines and love. It was a tragic waste of her life, and a waste
of her destiny and talents and

Celaena dropped to the ground and began frantically tearing at it, screaming wordless rage as her fists pounded and
pounded against the mud, her fingernails ripping through grass and stone. She beat her hands against the earth until
her skin ripped and bled, her cries of fury and anguish echoing across the valley. It was all so pointless, all so
pointless. She hated herself and everything around her, and so she kept on screaming and tearing, tearing and
screaming, until she could not breathe anymore and she collapsed downwards.

Everything was silent, not a bird sung or an earthworm moved in the dead, dying earth beneath her. She was dying
too. Dying with the earth and with every breath that she took.

Her eyes closed as she lay with her head on the ground, cold and slimy mud oozing into her ear.

She was dying. Nothing mattered, no one mattered anymore.

The world was dark and wet, and she felt herself slipping further and further beneath its surface. Both she and Trasien
were doomed to die.

But then there was a noise, a noise deep within the earth that echoed into Celaenas ear. It was a womans voice,
faint and desperate.

Aelin.

Celaenas heart skipped a beat and the mud wrapped itself around her more.

There was other voice, a mans, this time louder.

Aelin.
And then another, a childs, crying out to her as if for help.

Aelin.

And then another, and another, and another until her brain was awash with so many people, so many different people
with different tones and accents screaming and pleading her name that Celaenas eyes flew open.

It was the earthit was her people. It wasit wasit was everyone who needed her help, who needed her alive, who
needed her to pick herself up from the ground and return home. She could hear them, hear them all thousands of
miles away, being tortured and confined, doomed to die a death by tyranny.

It was the earththe earth. It was what belonged to her, what no man or tyrant could take away from her, or her
people, what she had been born to protect and what she would die protecting. Celaenas fists clamped down upon
fistfuls of earth. This belonged to her. Somewhere across the sea, this earth belonged to her. It was hers. It was her
right.

Then, slowly, pushing and staggering and struggling against the weight that sought to keep her down, to keep her
silent and controlled, Celaena began to rise to her feet. She heaved and grunted, her breath gasping from her throat,
the mud squelching as she peeled herself from its embrace, and pushed and pushed and pushed. No man, prince or
king or tyrant, would keep her from her land.

As the first rays of dawn broke out across Wendlyn, Aelin Galathynius at last rose to her full height and squared her
shoulders as she looked towards Adarlan. Her fists loosened and the mud, now hot, burning, dried earth crumbled
from them as a morning wind picked it up in its arms and carried the streaming trail behind her like a pair of black
wings.

She could see across the sea, she could see the Opal Tower and the city of Orynth, she could see her assembled court
and the millions of peopleher people, waiting for her return. It was a land of greens and kind seasons, a land so
beautiful and alive with magick and life that, even conquered, had lost none of its ripeness. It was hers, and hers
alone. No broken heart, no man, would ever destroy that.

She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Trasien, and it had taken until a man, a foolish man with no sense of
courage or loyalty, had broken her heart to make her see the obvious. All along, all along this earthher country
had been there, loving and protecting her, and now it was her turn to love and protect it.

Wildflowers grew and burst into bloom all around her, flowing down the sides of the knoll like a waterfall of color.

She raised a fist to greet the morning sky, and, with it as the solitary witness of her oath, she at last swore over her
life to bring down the DeHavilliard House and Empire.

PART TWO: CHAPTER 28: TAKING OFF

Chaol Wydrael stared at the man before him, not entirely sure if he was awake or dreaming. Arobynn was smiling
awkwardly and muttering something about putting the strangers bags into the spare bedroom, but Chaol could only
gape at the slender, pointed ears that stuck out from beneath his golden brown hair.

He was a Faea real, living Faehow had he managed to escape the butchering blocks of Adarlans armies? How had
he managed to find Arobynn Hamel, of all people, in Renaril?

Arobynn disappeared into the guest bedroom for a moment and then re-emerged. Brandy, wine? He called coolly to
the two boys as he stalked to the kitchen.

The two continued to stare at each other in silence. A Faein Renaril! Things were certainly changing quickly.

You know Aelin, the Fae man said at last, his voice strong and smooth, like a newly forged blade.

I Chaol choked, and then cleared his throat, blushing. He was not some gaping farmer! Yesyes, I do.

Arobynn tells me that shes become quite the young woman, the Fae man said, moving towards a chair beside
Chaols couch. Until Arobynn had arrived with this stranger, Chaol had been spread out across it, half-sleeping, half-
reading an odd assortment of books. He had not forgotten about Tiryns notethe one that mentioned many things,
but most importantly Amaroth and Noll, and he had spent the past morning looking through Celaenas enormous
collection to find anything of related value. So far, there was nothing.

Yesshes Chaol watched as the handsome Fae seated himself before the fire, stretching out his long, muscular
legs. From his worn and dirty clothes, it seemed as if he had been travelingor runningfor a while.

Im sorry, Chaol said, shaking his head, But Im afraid that Arobynn didnt mention your name.

The stranger smiled slowly, somewhat ironically. Its ThaeliusThaelius Glorwynn of the House of Mora.

Chaol straightened. Morathats, he searched through his brain. Where had he heard that name before?

One of the three Fae Queens, sister to Mab, great-grandmother of Aelin, and sister to Maeve, Queen of the entire Fae
Realm.

So itsPrince Thaelius?

Thaelius chuckled and shook his head. No one has called me prince for a long, long time.

They were silent again. Was this one of the figures of Aelins past? He knew her true name, but did he know the other
names that she bore?

It might be a little early for wine, so I brought out some waterhopefully you wont mind, Lord Glorwynn, Arobynn
said, emerging from the kitchen with such a broad smile that that Chaol suddenly realized that the Assassin King was
nervous. The mans scarred hands gingerly handed the Fae Prince a glass of water before shoving the other to Chaol.

Water is fine, Thaelius said, nodding his thanks. As he opened his mouth to gulp down the goblet, Chaol could not
help but notice the above-average sharpness of his canine teeth. His sleeves fell back to reveal the beginnings of a
tattooblack and perhaps gold. Chaol didnt know why, but he felt very youngand a bit stupidsitting near the
prince.

Chaol sipped at his water and glanced at Arobynn, who gave him a Please say something, anything! sort of look
while Thaelius eyes flitted around the apartment.

Soare you here to look for Aelin? Because she wont be back for at least a few weeks, and Chaol was cut off.

She told me to come here, Thaelius said. She told me to find Arobynn.

Apparently she came to him in a dream and told him to find me, Arobynn chuckled nervously. I wouldnt doubt him
for a minute: he hunted me down right into my very apartmentwithout any sort of help or direction! It made me
rethink my security system a bit, but still

It wasnt a dream, Thaelius said, frowning slightly. I was wide awake. He looked at Chaol. I heard her voice one
night.

Where were you living before now? Chaol said, sipping at his water. Awkward conversations were never his forte.

Some wasteland on Trasiens Western borderit makes no difference now.

So youre intending on staying for

Im sorry to interrupt, Thaelius said, leaning forward, But Id much rather learn how the two of you know Aelin
Galathynius, and where exactly she is at the moment.

Chaol looked at Arobynn, who was staring at the floor so intently that Chaol rolled his eyes and spoke. Shes in
Wendlyn.

Wendlyn? Thaelius started forward.

Its a long, long story, Chaol said, shaking his head. Ive known her for, wellA few months short of a year now. I
He looked at Arobynn, who was now fiddling with one of Chaols books and frowned. I amor, perhaps I was
the Captain of the Royal Guard in the glass palace, he said, jerking his chin at the window. Thaelius didnt move, but
only nodded.

Its a rather long and complex storyI mean, Im sure you know of AelinsWell Im not quite sure how you know
Aelin yet, but I assume that since you and Arobynn seem to be strangers, and since you still call her by her original
name, that you knew her as a child

Thaelius nodded again. What do you mean by her original name?

Chaol shook his head, his frustration rising as he found Arobynn to be completely useless. Perhaps Thaelius would kill
him. It would mean one less criminal monster roaming the streets.

Well, for the past fifteen years, shes been going by the name of Celaena Sardothien, Chaol said, and hastily took a
drink of his water.

Thaelius eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but his eyes then went wide. She Thaelius
closed his eyes and took a breath. I thought Celaena Sardothien was a man.

So did everyone, Chaol said, shaking his head. But this man, he said, motioning at Arobynn, who was now smiling
weakly, found her on the riverbank the morning after her near-assassination and took her in as his protg.

And what a good protg she was! Arobynn said, smacking his thigh.

Thaelius looked from one man to another. You mean that Aelin Galathynius has been an assassin for the past fifteen
years? It was getting awfully cold in the room, and Chaol cleared his throat.

I know. You see, I first knew Aelin as Celaena Sardothien, and when I found out a little while ago who she really was,
I couldnt believe it. In fact, I almost murdered Arobynn for it.

As her friend, you should have, Thaelius snarled, and Arobynn frowned, rotating his wrist.

Chaol let out a long sigh from his nose. As much as I would like to, its not my placewhen she returns, shell decide
what to do with him.

Thaelius was now staring at Arobynn now with lowered brows and a slightly gaping mouth, as if a sudden realization
had struck him with breathtaking force. You let her go to Endovier for two years?

She survived, didnt she? Arobynn finally snapped. Shes a clever girlvery clevershe found a way to survive.

Endovier is a death camp! She is Trasiens queen!

Chaol could say nothing, and waited for Arobynns throat to be split open. How this would happen, he didnt know.
When Thaelius had first arrived, Chaol had instinctively scanned his person for any sort of weapon. If he had any, they
were in his luggage.

Thaelius waited for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked at Chaol. How did she survive? I mean, how did she
escape?

Well, thats where this gets very complicated, though I think that perhaps you should understand her original escape
from her assassin, fifteen years ago, Chaol said, and, with a final look at Arobynn, began to explain everything.

Close to half an hour and dozens of questions later, the Captain finished his story, detailing it to the events of last
night.

Thaelius was silent for a moment. So your princehe betrayed her?

He must have, though I dont think it went so far as telling his father.
But he loves her.

Well, he didor at least, he might still, but

If he gave up her love for his own hide, then he doesnt deserve her.

Chaol snorted. Well, thats obvious, but

There are no exceptionsif he truly loved her, nothing would have come in the way of that, even his throne.

Yes, but

So you plan on letting her return to the palace alone? Its suicideyoull be little better than Arobynn, Thaelius said
and sighed, not bothering to look at the red-haired man across from him. We must contact hertonight. Ill inform
her to take another ship to some nearby port, youll contact Aedion Ashryver and Tirynand well leave to meet her
there.

And then?

And then well head to Trasienslowly, gathering as many allies as we can along the way.

Chaol stared at the Fae, whose silver eyes were glittering. That all sounds wonderful, but how are we going to
contact her if shes in Wendlyn?

In a dream, of course, Thaelius smiled, almost arrogantly.

Chaol snorted. Only Dorian has been able to do that.

And whos to say that I cant?

I think she needs to have some sort of emotional bondand magick or something along those lines.

Thaelius leaned forward, and at long last revealed the reason for his long journey. As her betrothed, I think that
warrants a strong enough bond.

An icy sickness came into Chaols stomach that had nothing to do with nerves.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

I wont rest until I find her.

Galan, its almost seven in the morningyou could use some sleep. Im sure a few hours of rest wont harm your
cause.

Galan Ashryver paced across his room, still wearing his clothes from the night before. He turned to Raal Hynter, who
was sitting on a couch before the fire, also looking disheveled.

I meanI just dont understand why she wouldI meanA knife, Raal! Is she mad? Galan ran a hand through his
hair.

He had led a wild chase after her carriage, which had ended in even more mystery. They had finally caught the
ridiculous thing, but she was not inside, though her dress was, and her drivers knew nothing of her other than the
location where they had been ordered to pick her up. Galan and his guard had searched the area and found nothing,
not even logical footprints on the road. He had considered going to Luca, the boy that she had trained, but even
Galan, in his frantic state, knew that breaking into Ghents house in the middle of the night was a bit dramatic.
Apparently, Luca had lived with the Baroness Du Tremaine until recently, a fact that nearly drove Galan to insanity.
He had dined at the Baroness chateau one day, not more than a month or so ago, and she had probably been there!
Hiding somewhere in the house, or out in a field, in that hideous peasant garb! She had been so close this entire time,
right under his nose! He would go to the Baroness estatehe would go there and find her and bring her back. If she
wasnt there, then there was always Lucaand othersto use as bait.

I Raal began, and then closed his eyes.

What?

Galan, theres something I didnt tell you beforeabout Aelin.

The Crown Prince of Wendlyn stared at his friend, unmoving.

Say itwhatever you have to say, just say it.

Well, she told us both that she had been in Adarlan.

Galan nodded his head.

But I didntwell, theres something else about her life in Adarlan that I didnt want to tell you just because I thought
that you fancied her, and it would only upset you.

Galans heart was beating quickly. Shes not engaged, is she? She said that she was involved with someone when I
first met her, but she seemed so confused and last night she

Galan, Raal interrupted, his voice grave. The morning sun caught in his hazel eyes, revealing splotches of trees and
fertile earth within their circumference. I want you to listen carefully to what I am about to say.

Galan swallowed and nodded his head.

At the tournament, Luca mentioned that she had some sort of amorous relationship with the Crown Prince of Adarlan

Galan started forward, but Raal motioned for him to take a seat.

She didnt admit to it, but rather denied itjust as she does with anything that stirs up the wrong sort of emotions.
Raal cleared his throat. Now, shes been calling herself Elentulyai these past few months in Wendlyn, clearly a name
from Eyputiusunn: if she were at the glass palace with Dorian DeHavilliard before she came over here, then she was
most likely there when the Princess Anuksun was murdered. I would bet my finest suit of armor that it was Anuksun
who gave her that name, since she mentioned that a dear friendwith a touch of sadness and grief, I might addhad
named her. So, if she was in some sort of romantic relationship with Prince Dorian, and if her friend was murdered
while that relationship was going on, then we might presume a lot of things, especially about why she had that knife
and is now returning to Adarlan, and why shes been terrified when meeting any of us and trying to talk about her
past.

Galan sunk into the couch, and took several deep breaths.

You think Dorian sent her over here to kill my father? Using the murder of her friend as

Princess Anuksuns murder was most likely the incentive that the Crown Prince gave her to come here: if she didnt
both go to Wendlyn kill your father and return to Adarlan, another friend, perhaps someone closer, would die.

Galan shook his head in disbelief, though his heart was pounding. But why would Adarlan send over Aelin
Galathynius to kill my father?

Raal clicked his tongue. Who else could gain access to the royal family of Wendlyn but a long-lost, much-beloved
member of the clan?

But I met Aelin in the woodsby pure chance. She had no idea who I was until I made the mistake of Galan
stopped as the realization hit him. The Baroness. If she was working for the Baroness Du Tremaine, then that would
be an easy stepping stone for her to either meet the members of the royal family or get into the palace itself.
Raal nodded. But you two managed to take a shortcut, and it seems like she also managed to become fairly attached
to the servants of the household, as well as allow the Fae to take her in.

I still dont understand how she could fight in Peregrinno and have her Trial, gods above, and still want to kill my
father! I thought that she had experienced some kind of transformation.

Raal smiled sadly, his eyes bright. Perhaps she too heard of Dorian DeHavilliards decision to announce his
engagement last night.

Galan stared at his friend, first thankful that he would have this brilliant mind on his council one day, then suddenly
full of pity for his dear cousin.

A broken heart could suddenly change everything for a young woman on the verge of finally becoming who she was
meant to be, Raal finished. I suspect that when she realized that she couldnt kill her own family for the sake of a
man who had betrayed her, everything just fell apart. The only thing she could think of doing, because its the only
thing shes been doing for the past fifteen years, is run. I dont know what exactly happened to her for those few
moments when she was staggering around and clawing at her eyesher mother was a clairvoyant, so perhaps the
emotional trauma of the situation caused her extra senses to go ballistica sort of magickal breakdown.

Galan closed his eyes for a few seconds to gather himself together. At the ball, before she had come flying out of the
side door and thrown him onto the ballroom floor, he had been convinced that she had come just for him. And he had
been ready, even though he had the strangest feeling about heras if there were something different, someone else
inside of her bodyto ask for what her mother had denied his father.

Galan?

Im going to find her, Galan said, and stood up. He walked over to the table on which sat the only link to the missing
princess, and picked up the small glass slipper. Im going out to the Baroness Du Tremaines estate, and if she isnt
there, Im going to go door to door.

Raal shook his head. Galan, if you go charging across the countryside, shes bound to find out, and will flee again.
You have to be smarter than thatoutwit her.

Galan looked out through the open glass doors of his balcony, the countryside lost beneath the early morning haze.

Send out an announcement, Raal said, walking to his friends side. Make up something ridiculouslike youre going
to find the girl who escaped you last night at the ball because youre madly in love with her and wont rest until you
find her, so youre going to go door to door to see all of the maidens in the kingdom.

Galan frowned. Whats so ridiculous about that?

Raal laughed. I forgot that was true.

Galan shook his head and held up the glass slipper, admiring its fine craftsmanship. The Crown Prince of Wendlyn,
feeling the eyes of his friend upon him, turned to find Raal grinning.

What?

Raal carefully took the shoe from Galans hand and smiled. Ive got an idea.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian awoke to a feeling of hollowness as the first rays of the dawn crept through his window, revealing a room
scattered with books and parchment, candle stumps and empty wine bottles. He was still wearing his clothes from the
night before, though thankfully he had remembered to take off the unnecessarily heavy gold and ruby crown before it
managed to crack his skull in two. It hung from the back of his desk chair, dull and lifeless.

He was engagedthe wedding was to take place at the beginning of summerlittle more than a month from now. He
was sure that his mother would begin preparation today, and that Nicolle would have herself measured for a dress,
and that a crown would be ordered, along with the ridiculous decorations and food and wine. Engaged.
He had seen the shape that the blood of the swan had formed across its white chest. It was the royal seal of Trasien,
the symbol of a long line of great kings and noble queens going all the way back to Glamasil, the banished Fae Lord,
himself. He tried not to think of what the dead swan could have meant, but he could not erase the image from his
mind.

Dorian turned over in bed and stared at the books on his desk, which were now collecting dust. They were the
remnants of a few months in which he had been a part of a movement that would have reshaped the world. And he
had just

Dorian closed his eyes as he heard that male voicefilled with pain and angerecho through his head, screaming the
name of the woman who sought to destroy the empire that he was bound by blood to protect. It didnt seem to be a
hard voice, but rather a voice that was usually gentle and unaccustomed to screaming so loudly. It was a noblemans
voice, perhaps

Dorian took a deep breath. Being normalpretending that court life was all that mattered and that the death camps
and enslaved countries were assets to the crownwas numbing. His books, which had once offered so much solitude
and companionship when even Chaol could not provide it, now seemed to offer only more evidence that he was at the
losing-end of a battle, that he was, indeed, cowardly and spineless. What heroes of legend would have chosen to
marry a woman they did not love in order to protect an exploitative empire that was causing the world to decay with
each passing day?

Dorian knew that his father had done something to the countryside, to the very land itself. He had heard his father
whisper it to Perringtonn, who was now in the process of bringing the broken and shamed Lady Kaltain Rompier to
her new home of exile, something about the magick of the land being suited for his own uses, something about
molding it into his own ring of power, but

He sighed and held his hands above him, examining them in the soft light. These were not the hands of a future
tyrant, nor were they the hands of great hero. They were just plain hands, calloused from hours of swordplay, which
did not venture outside of their realm, or into the frigid cold of isolation or great danger. In fact, he had never
experienced any sort of dangers or adventures, nothing of value or interest, nothing to be found in books. The only
people that he knew whose adventures were real, were meaningful, were now gone from his life, now a part of their
own grand scheme that would inspire later generations to generate chapters, if not volumes, of history and legend.

If they succeeded in their impossible plans, they would be beloved: a queen who was brought back to lifeperhaps
her king would be the man who betrayed his own prince for her countrys sake. They would have around them a circle
of friends and allies who were fiercely loyal, people so brave and selfless that they seemed to be from a faerietale,
people who would fight and die for their country, and for the love of the woman who had saved them all from iron grip
of a dark empire.

Dorian lowered his hands and stared at his shelves and shelves of books.

What would he be recorded as in their legend of revolution and epic heroism? Would he become the next tyrant king,
or merely the foolish prince who gave up the love of that queen for the security of a glass palace?

Dorian raised himself from bed and stalked over to his desk, picking up books that had wielded little to no information
for either him or Chaol. He would return these to the librarytoday.

The Crown Princes hand faltered as he reached for the seventh book in the pile. It was an absurd book, made from
cheap leather and papermade for women to read while their men were at work or war. It was a book that he had
read, blushing, in the privacy of his room, and then again, to a recovering woman in her bedroom.

Wait!

Yes?

Since when is Hamil taking Julienne into his arms?

Um, you fell asleep during the part when

Give that to meI dont believe you.

No! Absolutely not!

You cut out the love scenes, didnt you?

I did no such thing!

If you had kept them in, you wouldnt be making such a fuss!

I told youyou were asleep.

Youre just being a coward.

Theyre just love scenesnothing interesting or

Thats the best part!

Youre deranged. I think Kaltain kicked you one too many times in the

Just let me read it on my own if you wont read it aloud!

This isnt reading material for a lady.

You wretched boy, you and I both know Im no lady! Now, give me the book or Ill

Youll what? You cant even get out of bed without someone helping you up! You cant do anything to me!

Ill tell Chaol that you read Sunsets Passions.

You wouldnt dare.

I think I would. Now, give me that book.

She stole the book from him and skimmed the pages fervently, her eyes widening as they fell upon a particular
passage.

Imagine thatyoure blushing. And, why, Ill be! You can read all by yourself now!

Me? Read? She attempted to look helpless and sick.

Thats pathetic. If you enjoy my reading so much, all you had to do was tell meBesides, if you really want to, we
can always act out the love scenes

In your dreams.

Dorian smiled sadly to himself as he caressed the cover of the book. It was amusing how prophetic she had been
and howhow

Dorian collapsed downwards into his chair, the crown digging sharply into his back as the collected books scattered
onto the floor.

Yes, she would be queen, if she survived the upcoming encounter with his father, and she would probably be
wonderful. She was doing just as he had chosen to do for his countryand as much as it pained him to have been a
pawn for her ultimate purposes, he could no longer deny that his heart was indeed broken, and that he did not want
to marry Nicolle, and that a part of him wished, harder than he had ever wished for anything before, that he could
undo what he had done, what he had said, and one day find himself alongside Trasiens greatest queen in the
yellowing and withered pages of history.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Celaena Sardothien was barely done with dressing herself when a womans scream burst through the chateau. She
wore the fine clothes that she had originally donned for the journey to Wendlyn, and had neatly arranged all of her
Fae clothing in a pile placed on Cindrillions bed. Her ugly servants clothes were folded and left in a corner of the
room, and her remaining few items of clothing were stored in the large sack that she had brought over from Adarlan.
Without the box of shoes, it felt disturbingly light, despite the boon she carried within it in the hope of alluding
Adarlans wrath once more.

The first boat for Adarlan left tomorrow at noon, and she would, again, have to switch boats twice more during her
journey in order to return to the glass palace within three weeks. She would be arriving in Adarlan just on schedule,
though Chaol was now removed from the picture, and she knew that she would be granted an immediate audience
with the king, along with his advisors.

Celaena looked at herself once more in the mirror before heading downstairs, leaving her belongings in the room that
she had shared with Cindrillion for the past few months.

The girl had apparently returned long before dawn, and had said nothing about the cruelty of her sisters, nor of the
strange connection that Celaena knew had occurred at the ball, though Cindrillion did seem lost in her own world. In
fact, she had been humming waltzes incessantly since Celaena had arrived back at the chateau not an hour ago, and
had said nothing of Celaenas state of dress.

Leighanna, on the other hand, had noticed that Celaena was covered in mud and wearing only her undergarments,
but she said little to her as she passed through the kitchen.

A strange sense of purpose was now coursing through the assassins veins, and as she walked down the tower stairs
to both inquire after the scream and inform the Baroness that she was to depart from the chateau that day, she felt
all of her training settle within her like sand.

It was all coming to an end now.

Celaena walked down the carpeted marble floor, following the screams origins to the Baroness chambers. The doors
had been flung open, and Marghenna and Joline were already running around their mother, begging for her to read
the letter that she held in her hand. Cindrillion stood in the room, holding a breakfast tray for one of the three
Tremaine women, and Celaena moved to stand in the doorway as the Baroness raised her hand to silence her
daughters.

The letter was unmistakably marked with the royal crest of Wendlyn, and Celaena turned around to stare out the
hallway window, not surprised to find a page galloping away at top speed.

Mother, please, tell us! Has the prince called for me at the court? Perhaps he is regretting dancing with that girl all
night! Marghenna said, pushing Joline out of the way.

Celaena fought against the smirk that attempted to rise to her face.

Even better, the Baroness said, her eyes gleaming as she looked from daughter to daughter. No onenot even the
prince himself, knows who that girl is. Hes been out all night looking for her.

Celaena bit down on the nausea that rose to her stomach.

The only clue she left was a glass slipper.

A what? Joline barked.

Why, the girl wore shoes of glassprobably tacky, awful things, but nonetheless, they were clearly made to fit only
one person.

Whats that dumb shoe got to do with us? Marghenna said, crossing his girls.

The Baroness took a step forward, her face lit with sublime delight. It says here that, by royal command, the prince
is to have every maiden in the kingdom try on that slipperand whoever that slipper fitsthat girl shall be his bride.
Cindrillions tray crashed to the ground, and Celaena only had time to mouth bride, before the sisters screamed at
the top of their lungs and burst from the room, shoving Celaena into the hallway.

They ran into their chambers so quickly that it was as if they were on fire, and their squeals of delight echoed through
the house.

A daze spread over Celaena with lightning speeda calmed, slumbering daze that made her eyes go distant and a
slow smile spread across her face.

His bride.

Before Celaena could react, dresses, skirts, undergarments and sashes were being thrust and piled into her arms, in
heaps and clusters, directions being shouted at her from all angles. Cindrillion appeared in the doorway, her face red
as she carried the broken dishes from the room and down the hall, disappearing from sight.

Brush my shoes!

And my purple ribbon, you must press my ribbon first!

Another bundle of clothes slammed into her arms, the pile almost up to her chin now, and Celaena let some of the
clothes fall to the floor as the girls halted to stare at her.

His bride.

Everything felt strange nowso strange. Galan Ashryver didnt want to hang her, he wanted to marry her! To be
Queen of Wendlyn!

His bride.

Mother! Marghenna cried. The girls gone mad! She pointed at Celaena, who was too busy smiling at the wall
opposite her to notice as the Baroness appeared in the doorway.

What are you doing, halfwit? We have to get dressed! The prince will he here any minute! Joline barked.

Celaena blinked a few times at the tall girl, who was standing before her. Dressed?

Yes, dressed!

Celaena looked down at herself. Oh, nopants would not do!

Yes, I suppose we do need to get dressed, she said, shoving the clothes into Jolines arms. The girl gaped at
Celaena.

She was going to be Queen of Wendlyn. She would have an army to command, to reclaim Trasienshe would have
two queenly titles to use to stand against the King of Wendlyn! Galan wanted to marry herher!

He loves mehehe loves me.

But what are we going to do about our clothes? Marghenna demanded as Celaena began to walk towards the stairs.

Celaena stopped. She was Queen of Trasien and Wendlyn!

Youve got two hands, she snarled, Do it yourself. With that, she began to walk up the stairs, humming a waltz to
herself.

Mother, you cant expect her to

Oh, mother, how could she say such a

The Baroness ignored her daughters and walked to the foot of the stairs, glancing up at the disappearing servant girl,
who twirled herself at the top of the stairs and continued down the hallway.

It couldnt be.

Outside, trumpets blared, announcing the princes arrival. Her daughters screamed and threw themselves into their
rooms, the sounds of frantic dressing filling the air. But the Baroness, already dressed, walked up the stairs, her black
eyes like pitch as she saw the blond haired woman dancing with herself as she neared the door to the tower.

She glimpsed the girls passing face and felt a boiling rage overflow from her stomach and into her bloodstream.

Quietly, not so fast that the girl would notice, the Baroness followed her.

It was that girl from the ballthe one that people had said was the dead princess from Trasien. The Baroness snorted.
Dead princess indeedshe was a servant! A fake and a liar! She had tricked the prince into believing her absurd lie,
and had taken him away from not only her daughters, but also the entire ball with her ridiculous fiasco. Princess
indeed!

The Baroness waited to begin her ascent at the foot of the tower stairs until she heard the girl walk into the small
room, still humming. The trumpets were now louder, and the Baroness lifted her skirts as she took the first step.

Princess or no, she would not have nearly twenty years of hard work and money go for naught! Marghenna had small
feetthough they were a bit wide, and Joline

The Baronesss hand clenched the wooden banister as she neared the last flight of stairs, watching the girl preen as
she looked in the washstand mirror, swaying from side to side. Her back was turned to her, and she was so consumed
in her own image that she did not notice as the Baroness stood upon the landing for a moment, watching her.

The womans hand reached out to the door handle, smiling as she placed the other on the iron key that sat on the
opposite side of the door, turned it once to lock it, and pulled it loose. There was a pleading cry from the room as the
girl spied the Baroness closing the door in the mirror, and then only incessant banging as the door shut and locked.
The handle shook violently as the girl, whose name the Baroness could barely remember, let alone pronounce,
screamed at the Baroness, and the door trembled as she hurled herself against it again and again.

The Baroness merely smiled, placed the key in her pocket, and strolled down the stairs, humming to herself. It was all
a game of survival, and no onenot even foreign royaltywould ruin her chances.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien beat against the door, repeatedly trying to lash out with her magick to no avail. The door, though
wooden, had an iron frame, and an iron lock. She had never really listened when Maeve explained that iron, as a
pure, dark element, was the one substance immune to magick, but now, trapped like a helpless faerietale maiden, she
could not help but wish that she had paid more attention.

She could hear the trumpets of Galans caravan, and ran to the tower window, which was too small for her to even fit
her head through, crying out for help into the garden courtyard. Unfortunately, it was on the opposite side of the
house as the front door, and as the sound of horses neared, her cries were lost beneath the racket.

Celaena turned again, furious, and ran headfirst at the old door, but only found that it was, unlike most of the house,
built well, and would not yield to even her attempts. She looked around the room for anything that would be helpful,
but found not even a hairpin. She slammed herself into the door once more, crying out, and then once again before
she stopped.

Celaena leaned against the door and sunk to the floor, her head hanging between her knees. She would never reach
Galan before her boat left, and if she went to find him, and he had accidentally married someone else or did not
actually want to marry her, then it would be too late, and she would return to Adarlan in much bigger of a mess than
she already was.

You fool! He wouldnt marry someone else! Its just a rouse to find you, to
What if its a trap? What if he is just looking for the woman who nearly assassinated his father so that when he finds
her, he can hang her? What if he knowsbecause of Lucathat Im working here? What if hes really just going to
ask the Baroness for me, explaining that Im an assassin, and shell hand me over? Did she know aboutno, the
Baroness couldnt have known about the knife. There was no mention of it.

Celaena breathed in and out, in and out.

Think. You are very clever. You can think of a way out of this room.

The front door opened and closed, and Celaena heard a naughty giggle sound in her ear. She turned to find a gaggle
of faeries floating beyond the iron door, each taking turns to peer through the keyhole.

Can you open this door? she hissed, one eye staring out into the landing.

The faeries looked from one to another and then shook their heads before bursting out into laughter.

Dont laugh at me now, she snarled, Iplease, I need your help! The faeries clicked their tongues in unison and
crossed their arms.

I promise Ill give you all a bowl of paestiaone for each of you!

The faeries shook their heads.

And my crown! Celaena said, her eyes widening. I hid it in the woodswhoever finds it can keep it!

The faeries exchanged glances, smiles spreading across their faces.

And Ill throw in a blueberry cobbler, Celaena offered.

Despite herself, she smiled as the faeries let out giggles of delight, nodding their heads.

Where is Cindrillion? she then pleaded.

The faeries looked at each other again, a bit sadly, and then enacted a scene that Celaena could only interpret as the
Baroness locking the girl into the pantry closet. And Leighanna?

The faeries pretended to be having a tea party.

Shes serving the Baroness tea?

The faeries nodded.

Celaena bit her lip and looked at the doorframe. There was no way she could get the door off of its hinges without
assistance from someone immune to the iron.

Then a thought hit her, wild and desperate, and she grabbed onto the handle for support as she raised herself to her
knees.

Luca, she said, her voice pleading, Get Luca.

With a fit of giggles the faeries nodded rapidly and flew down the tower shaft.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Galan Ashryver walked around the exterior of the house as the Baroness and her daughters tried on the shoe. He had
originally entered the chateau and asked the Baroness to bring forth any other young women in the household, but
when the woman replied that her only servant was an old woman, he had asked for permission to walk around the
grounds as they took their time with the shoe and tea.
Raals plan had been ingenious. The doors to every household had been flown open, and every young woman,
servants and ladies alike, were willing to receive him. Yet he had bypassed all of them and come straight to this
estate, knowing that, of all places, this was where she would be. He had brought the royal carriage, along with a
ridiculous little man to ceremoniously carry around the glass slipper on a black velvet pillow, and had asked Raal to
remain in the palace in case she reappeared.

Galan looked down at the black and silver ring he wore and let out a sigh. Hopefully the public marriage proposal
hadnt scared her off as well.

He strode into the garden behind the housea lovely little patch of herbs and vegetablesand peered into the open
kitchen door. It was empty, save for some bubbling pots, and he could hear the Baroness cooing at his attendant for
any tidbits of information.

Kicking the dry ground, Galan strode towards the fields. He would marry her, if she wantedbut despite the
wonderful time he had with her the past night, there was still something

Missing.

It was with more than a bit of surprise that four faeries rushed past him, barely more than streaks of blue and red as
they zoomed down the dirt road towards Ghents estate, chittering to themselves.

He looked at the large barn that stood on the edge of the field, frowning as he examined its interior. He could almost
feel her here, as if she had walked these grounds hundreds and hundreds of times. Galan left the barn and stood for
several minutes on the edge of the field. Thankfully, Raal had made him change and bathe before setting out, the
royal pages carrying the hundreds of copied decrees departing just as he left. They had mercifully arrived at the
Baroness estate before he had, so no explanation was needed as he slightly bowed to the simpering family. Galan
stood outside for some time, minutes passing by like seconds.

There was a sudden thunder of hooves, and Galan peered down the road to see a youth upon a Fae horse, charging
towards the estate at breakneck speed. He didnt look at Galan as he rushed by, leaping off of his horse and drawing
an elegant short sword from his sheath.

He was younga few years younger than himselfthough he was just as tall as Galan. His brown hair was swept back
from the ride, and he wore the fine clothes of a noble. It was undoubtedly Luca, Raals new friend and the Baron
Ghents newly acknowledged son.

The boy ran into the house, leaping clean over the half-door before Galan saw him rush up a dark stairway with a
determined and furious look on his face. The faeries were laughing hysterically outside of the house, doing flips in the
air.

Not to be left out of the action and perhaps knowing that this was where his search might end, Galan followed him
into the house, wishing that he had hadnt left his sword inside the carriage. He jumped over the door, almost slipping
in a puddle of paestia sauce, and flew into the stairwell in time to hear the youth reach the top of what seemed to be
the chateaus tower.

He was screaming a girls nameElla, or something like itand from the foot of the stairs, Galan could hear a female
voice yelling through the door where Luca had stopped.

It was a familiar enough voice for Galan to run up the rickety wooden stairs, flight after steep flight, and his black hair
was damp with sweat as he neared the top. Her voice was still muffled, but he could hear it well enough to make out
that the Baroness had locked her in the tower, along with some other girl in the pantry.

Galan grasped onto the stone wall of the tower as he at last reached the last platform, and gasped for breath. Luca
turned to him, his eyes wide, and Galan shook his head, still out of air, and pointed to the hinges.

Luca! a voiceher voicecried through the keyhole. Who is with you?

Galan shook his head at Luca and walked over to the first hinge. The door was ironhis magick would not work here.

He pulled at the hinge, but, having no experience with carpentry, looked at the youth with a shaking head.
Luca took a few steps towards the tower shaft. Ele, stand clear of the door, were breaking in! He looked at Galan
with raised eyebrows. On the count of three?

Galan followed the boy to where he stood and nodded. He readied himself, his chest still heaving as his muscles
tensed.

OneTwo Galans legs strained as they prepared to fly at the door. Three!

Both young men ran at the door, slamming their sides into the thick wood so hard that they barely noticed as the lock
snapped and they flew into the room.

Luca, you she said, and stopped as Galan raised himself, trying not to wince at his sore shoulder.

Galan! she cried, and the Crown Prince smiled weakly. The room was made for a servanttwo of them apparently
and from the piles of clothing and the sack on the bed, it was clear that one of them had been preparing to leave.

The youth looked from Aelin to the prince, his eyes wide before he dropped into a deep bow.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena stared at Galan, her heart beating wildly as he told Luca that there was no need for bowing.

Looking at him, looking at his attractive face and his heaving chest, a sick feeling came into her stomach. If he was
here to arrest her or marry her, he should at least first hear her entire storyfrom the beginning, nothing excluded.

Celaena glanced at Luca, wishing that he had not come to save her after all. But she was sick of hiding, sick of lying to
everyone about everything.

Aelin, Galan breathed, taking a step towards her.

Aelin? Luca asked, his brows knotting together. I thought it was

My name, Celaena said loudly, closing her eyes for a moment. She saw Trasien, green and fresh and glowing with
sunlight, and took a deep breath before she looked at the two young men. Yes, it was time. Is Celaena Sardothien.

She didnt know why, but her eyes became moist as she saw the same expression cross the faces of the two young
men before her.

I was sent over here to kill you and your family by the King of Adarlan, she finished, staring at Galan, her face
contracting as her eyes burned.

She saw the face of her mother, beautiful and kind and full of love, and could not stop herself from choking on her
words. My name is also Aelin Galathynius, her chest heaved in and out, and her words were loud and terrifying in
the silent room. As well as Elentulyai, and Lithaen Gordaina, and Ari Mauve and anything else you could possibly
come up with.

I dont understand, Galan said quietly, his blue eyes full of fear and confusion. Luca merely stared at her, unable to
say anything.

Celaena shook her head, putting a hand to her heart. I was found by Arobynn Hamel, Lord of the Assassins, on the
banks of the Florine River the morning after someone tried to murder me. He took me in and taught me everything he
knew, and I allowed myself to forget my past and hide my magick deep within me. I became Celaena Sardothien for
fifteen years, and I

Wait, Luca said curtly, and Celaena looked at him. You mean that youreyoure the Aelin Galathyniusthe
princess that everyones been looking for?

Celaena nodded. Im sorry that I never told you, but

And youre Celaena Sardothien, Adarlans assassin, who was supposed to be in Endovier for life?

Six lives, she corrected, but then smiled weakly. Yes, I am Celaena Sardothien as well.

And youve been living here as a servant this whole time, telling us these elaborate stories about Sardothien and
pirates and princes and whatnot! Do you mean theyre all true, or at least that you were the Sardothien in those
stories, and that you really did all of those things and met all of those people? Lucas eyes were wide as Celaena
nodded again. So when you said that I was Luca of the house of Sardothien, you werent just making it up, you were

Luca, she said, and took a step forward. Both men stepped back, and flashes of pain rippled through Celaenas
heart.

Please, she pleaded, Please dont. Allow me to explain.

Galans face was a mixture of many emotions, none of which Celaena cared for. I just dont understand, he said
again, Youre an assassin? The assassin of Adarlan?

Please, she said for what felt like the hundredth time, I will not harm either of youImIm done with that part of
my life now.

Since when? Galan asked, his voice suddenly sharp. Last night?

Galan

You were going to murder my father! his eyes darkened, and Luca stared at her incredulously.

I couldnt go through with it, she said hastily. It occurred to me that

That what? That killing is bad? That killing is a crime?

Galan, please

So all this time, all of those times that we met, you were just waiting for the right moment to kill me, and now you
dont want to anymore? Lost your nerve, have you?

Galan! her eyes were misting over, and she blinked rapidly. Why was it going so horribly?

What was the bargaining price, hmm? Galan was pacing the room now, his face distorted emotion. A mountain of
gold, a glass palace of your own? Perhaps a bit of Wendlyn once your king managed to

He is not my king! she cried.

Well, Aelin, you let him rule your country for fifteen years, I dont really see where the line is between accepted ruler
and invader.

Thats not fair! She took a step towards him. Why couldnt he justjust.Would everyone think of her like this? Is
this what Thaelius and Aedion thought of her? As a traitor?

Fair? Fair? Like Dorian, his temper was terrifying. He seemed to be ten years older, and she had the awful feeling of
being a child scolded for breaking something of value.

If youd just listen, she begged, but Galan waved his hand in the air.

You think that just by telling me this that you can

I think, your highness, Luca interrupted, his voice hard, yet his eyes full of the sympathy that Celaena had been
wishing for, that you should let her speak.
Galan whirled to look at Luca, his brows lowered and mouth gaping in anger, but the youth did not back down as his
gaze met that of the prince.

Princess, assassin, whatever she is, Luca said softly, not breaking Galans enraged stare, she is my friend first and
foremost, and I would like to hear what she has to say before you decide to feed her to the wolves.

Celaena looked at Luca, who looked more a Lord than she had even seen him, her mouth trembling slightly.

Fine, Galan said, and leaned against the windowsill, dropping his gaze as he waved his hand. Explain away.

Celaena motioned for Luca to sit on the bed, noticing the way he recoiled slightly as she touched his shoulder, and
looked from one man to the other.

I was born Aelin Galathynius, yesand for eight years I was as happy as a child could be. She paused to gather her
thoughts. But, as both of you know, that happiness only lasted those eight years. After my parents assassination,
the assassin returned for me the following night. I fled, hoping to reach the closest estate, which was across the River
Florine, but it was dark, and someone had cut the footbridge, and before I knew it, I had thrown myself into the icy
river. I dont remember what happened next, for I woke up a week later in Arobynns castle, but I was told that
Arobynn Hamel, chief of the assassins guild, had found me, almost dead, a few miles down the river the following
morning.

He took me in, and raised me as his own, convincing me that if I were to return to my remaining family and friends,
many more people would die. I was a child, she said quickly as she saw Galans mouth open, my mother, father,
and uncle had died, and the world was suddenly a wicked, awful place. I knew that the King of Adarlan had been
involved with the murders, for he soon took the throne as his own, and Arobynn managed to manipulate me into
believing that the best way to survive and seek revenge would be to forgetto forget everything about my past, to
put away my magick, and to become his protg.

I agreed, and soon I forgot my reasons for revenge, and became consumed by my hate for Adarlans empire and all
of its rulers. I she stumbled over the words, II let my past terrify me. For some reason, I believed that if I
acknowledged its horrors, if I acknowledged who I had become in relation to who I should have been, that I would fall
to pieces. She let out a short, bitter laugh. And there were times when it caught up with me that I did fall apart. And
there were also a time when I managed to find my peace with it long enough to tell someonesomeone who was
close to me and then diedwho I really was. In short, the more the figure of Celaena Sardothien grew, the more I
used it as a way to conceal and block my past. I let myself be carried away by the criminal underworld, perhaps it was
because, to them, I was a queen. I could do more damage to Adarlans empire by killing off politicians, some of whom
I was paid to kill, others whom I wasnt, than I could of as Queen of Trasien. You know that. She looked at Luca.
You once told me that you viewed Celaena Sardothien as a hero for murdering the corrupt.

Her eyes flicked to Galan, whose face was now back to normal.

I managed to get caughtperhaps it was a trapalmost three years ago, and I was at last tried and sentenced, by
some odd streak of luck, to work in the Salt Mines of Endovier until my death.

She shook her head, trembling slightly. I probably would have died there by now had not the King of Adarlan hatched
a plan to destroy your country. He wanted to assemble a group of young women capable of fighting and killing, but
also beautiful and full of lady-like prowess, in order to select one who would journey to Wendlyn, infiltrate your Grand
Celebration, and assassinate the royal family.

Celaena could barely look at either of the young men as she continued. One of the few who knew my true sex, the
king had the Crown Prince of Adarlan, Dorian DeHavilliard, and his friend, the Captain of the Royal Guard, Chaol
Wydrael, come to Endovier to retrieve me. I was to be in this group of women, and would compete for the chance to
go to Wendlyn. If I was selected and did accomplish what I set out to do, I would be granted my freedom: my name
would be cleared, and I could live out the rest of my life in peace.

But things started to change. I went to the palace with Dorian and Chaol, and, by some odd circumstances, they
became my dear, dear friends. They were the first people in ages to treat me as a human being, and as I found that
we had many things in common, I also found out that I enjoyed their company. They, like I, were from a world that
they disliked to be a part of, yet could not part with it. There ran between the three of us the communal bond of
acknowledging that world for what it was: a ridiculous mirage filled with corrupt, mindless fools.
Along the course of the months that I lived in the glass palace, I also became friends with the Princess Anuksun
Ytger. At the time, I was living under the alias of Lithaen Gordaina, only Dorian, Chaol, the King and his advisors
knowing my true identity, and there reached a point in my friendship where I at last told her who I wasnot as Aelin
Galathynius, but as Celaena Sardothien.

Celaena bit down on the sorrow that rose to her eyes. She accepted methe dreaded assassinand named me
Elentulyai that day. Anuksun was also in the palace to compete for the opportunity to go to Wendlyn, and as we
became closer, so did the stakes. Soon, there were only a few of us left, one of whom was a lady named Kaltain
Rompier. It was well known that she loved the Crown Prince, and while Dorian and I were platonic, there were some
instances where it did not seem so, and Kaltains jealousy drove her mad. She hired a petty assassin to have me
killed, but he made a mistake. The night that I was to be murdered, I was walking in the palace gardens with
Anuksun. She was cold, so I gave her my cloak. I suppose that she put the hood on, for when I awoke the next
morning, she had been raped and butchered and left to rot.

To shorten the story, I wound up being amongst three women, Kaltain included, that were vying for the chance to go
to Wendlyn, though each of us wanted it for different reasons: Kaltain for the princes love, Jodra for her familys
honor, and meI wanted it for my freedom.

In our final task, I had to duel them both, and though attempts were made by the King of Adarlan, who had been
carefully watching my relationship with Dorian, to make me lose, I managed to win. I nearly died in the process,
though I almost cut off Kaltains head as well.

I was selected to go to Wendlyn, and I knew that the king would not send me without giving me a reason to come
back, so I was not surprised when he informed me that if I did not return within a few months, my dear friend, Chaol,
would be murdered. If I did not return after that, other friends would be killed as well.

So I made my pact with him, and said my farewells. By this point, I was well aware that Dorian was in love with me,
and I will not deny that it was he who gave me that ring, and those glass slippers.

She ignored Lucas confused look.

I came here with the intention of doing my job as fast as I could, but she looked at Galan, whose face was blank,
things happened that I did not foresee.

I met the Fae, and Maeve managed to get me out of the emotional wreck that I had been wallowing in for the past
fifteen years. She made me acknowledge who I truly was, and then she trained me, using her nephew, Prince Raonn
Whitethorn, to help. They taught me everything that I had been missing as an assassin and more: they prepared me
for battle, for the war that I know will arrive once I return to Adarlan.

Iin Peregrinno, it was I who led the townspeople to victory. I had no idea that the King of Adarlan had been
planning that attack, and it was the first time that I realized that perhaps I was no longer a part of his plans. I found
the armor of Athril, Prince of the Fae, and found his sword, Goldryn, which I still have with me.

She moved over to her bed, and pulled up the floorboard where she had been concealing her weapon for the past
month. She withdrew the sword, and held it forward for the young men to see. Here it is, she said, dropping it into
the bed, if you dont believe me.

Galan still said nothing, but Luca was staring at the sword as if it were a dog walking on its front paws.

To shorten all of this again, I rediscovered my magick. I came to terms with my past, and coincidentally, on my
birthday, I unleashed the magick that I had been hiding for years. I ignited the Opal Tower, and sent the East Wind to
awaken my court and all those still loyal to me, and then I continued my training until my Trial. I went into the woods
at the dark of the moon, destroyed a Draied and a swamp witch, and then slew three Valg.

I was initiated as a princess into the Fae, as my great-grandmother was Mab herself, and then I was initiated into the
warrior clan. She turned and lifted up her tunic, revealing the slowly healing tattoo etched in her lower back.

I She stopped, unsure of where to go next. She ran a hand through her short hair and tried to ignore the tightness
in her chest.
I finally realized that I had to tell Dorian, whom I had been meeting in dreams while here. He told mein those
dreams, mind youthat he loved me, and in this one, which I was sure was to be our last before I returned to
Adarlan, I was to finally tell him everything: who I truly was, how I really felt

She sniffed, and looked at the ground. But hehe, umHe decided that Celaena Sardothien wasnt for him anymore.
He had found someone else, some Lady Nicolle DeLemanscon, and apparently, he did not love me anymore. She
closed her eyes for a moment, fighting the sadness that still gnawed on her heart. So he left me for another, just
when we had been planningI mean, he and I, and Aedion and Tiryn and Chaol, had been gathering together the
beginning stages of a rebellion, I suppose. I had sent Chaol to stay in my old apartment, under the protection of
Arobynn Hamel, so he was safe from whatever I might do once I arrived back in Adarlan, and I believe that the men
had been planning something for my return. When Dorian decided to leave me, all of that planning ended.

She sighed. That was just a few days ago. II guess you could say that I reverted back to my old self. I sealed
myself off from everyone and decided that I would go to the ball, if only to give the King of Adarlan something that
would perhaps keep him from hanging me and those I cared for, so I stole my friends dress, hired an absurd
carriage, and went.

The dampness returned to her eyes again, and she turned to give Galan a pleading glance. I knew that your father
would want an audience with me if I went to the ball, but when I arrived, I was so carried away by it all. My heart was
broken, though I did not know it at the time, and I could nother voice cracked, I could not stop myself from letting
you say such wonderful things to me. And then the time came, and I was summoned to meet your father, and I knew
that this was all that stood between me and freedomthough I could not bring myself to kill you.

Wetness, cold and smooth, filled the corners of her eyes. But I couldnt do it, she said in a half-sob. I couldnt kill
him. She closed her eyes, regaining control, and straightened. I had fallen in love with this country, with you both
and all of the people here, and I just couldnt do itnot to you, not to anyone. I saw my mothers portrait hanging on
the wall, and how much your father looked like my mother, and I couldnt do it. So I fled. At some point, my vision
disappeared and I saw the ball in AdarlanI saw Dorian propose to that woman, and everything around me just
stopped working.

Celaena looked at Galan, and then at Luca, whose eyes were damp. And thats itthats my wretched life until this
moment. Galan was staring at the floor, his face flushed. Do you still wish to damn me?

Galan was silent for a moment, and then he stood. She watched him with widening eyes as he approached her and
knelt, one knee upon the floor, his eyes rising to look into hers. They were bright, and full sorrow and pity, and
Celaena began to tremble, her eyes almost full with tears as he took her hand in his own.

Aelin, he said, and Celaenas heart beat and beat against her chest like a hammer striking an anvil. Aelin, he said
again, softly, barely more than a whisper. My dear, dear cousin.

She shook slightly, not yet understanding why she felt so sick, why she suddenly dreaded the words that would come
from his mouth, and why, now, having poured out the contents of her heart for him to view and having had him
accept those wretched things, she did not wish for his hand in marriage.

IIm a clumsy fool at these things, and a moron for what I said to you, but if you, he smiled at her, if you would
do me the honor of marrying me, Celaena could not help the smile that broke out upon her face, I could not give
you the promise of eternal good looks, or of always having food and money to spare, but rather only give you the
guarantee of a far betterhappierlife than the one that you have thus far.

Celaena was trembling all over, and her face turned a brilliant shade of red as her hand shook in his.

From far away, she heard another mans voice, a voice that she had heard only in a dream, but had repeated it to
herself so many times that she had believed it to be real. It was a voice that she wished to hear more than any sound
in the world, and she closed her eyes as the sound washed over her again and again.

I love you. Dont forget thatnever forget that. Whatever happensJust remember that I love you.

What if it were true? What if Dorian did still love her, despite everything?

I love you. Dont forget thatnever forget that. Whatever happensJust remember that I love you.
It was not Galans proposal she had wanted to hear, but Dorians! This whole time, these many months

I wish, Celaena said, her voice soft and shaking like a budding flower.

I love you. Dont forget thatnever forget that. Whatever happensJust remember that I love you.

She had been a foolshe had never acknowledged it because she had been so afraid, afraid of losing everything in
the process!

I wish, she trembled again, the world roiling and throbbing around her.

Whatever happens

Yes, she understood now. It had been so obvious, so blatantly obvious that she could not imagine how she had gone
for so long without seeing it.

I wish, she said one last time, her eyes opening. The world was sharper, smaller, mountains were merely large hills
and an ocean was just a body of water. I wish that I could, she said as tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

But you see, she said, removing her hand from Galans and helping him rise. For some reason, she could not stop
crying. I have my own prince already. She shook her head as she at long last said the words that she had denied for
months and months. And I love him dearly.

She looked to Luca, and then at Galan, wiping her face. And it took me until I had lost him to realize it, and it took
me until I lost myselfjust one last timeto realize what I needed to do. The words would not stop flowing, and her
face, though wet and red, glowed.

She squared her shoulders, looking more like a queen than either man could have expected.

Im going to go back to Adarlanto reclaim my country and my throne, but also to reclaim him. He is mine, and I am
his, and without him, II just dont make much sense.

I know that he may not love me anymore, but I also know that so long as there is just the smallest chance, I must
try to win him back.

She smiled through her tears, and chuckled slightly. Because if I cant win his love again, if I cant make him love me
as he once didthen I cant do anything. She gave a stout laugh, choking slightly. I love him, she said, as if she
still couldnt believe her ears, I love the Crown Prince of Adarlan, even though his family murdered my own, and even
though his father conquered all of the free world for his own greed. She shook her head, a headache already forming
from all of her tears. But, somehow, I dont care.

She looked at Galan, her eyes full of determination. He was smiling sadly at her, though it was not the sadness of a
broken heart.

I swore an oath this morning to bring down the DeHavilliard familys reign, and, by the gods above, I will do it, but
youve got to understand that hes differentthat hes like me, and, III love him. I love him.

Galan nodded, and shrieks from downstairs momentarily interrupted them. Celaena laughed to herself, her calm now
overwhelmed with unexpected happiness, and she looked at the prince again.

I know that you chose me over the restover all of those women that seem to follow you around wherever you go,
she said, her tears finished. But, she said, hoping that this one small gift would satisfy for the cruelty that she had
inflicted a few days ago, if you could still find it in your heart to love anotherthen theres

Luca was staring open-mouthed at Celaena, but she merely stared at Galan, and took a step forward to grab his
hands in hers. Theres a young woman locked in the pantry closet downstairs who has waited a very long time for her
own prince to rescue her.

What? Galan said, and looked at Luca, who shrugged.

You need not marry her, or follow that stupid decree that you sent out, Celaena said, sniffing. But if you would just
take her with you to the palace, take her as my ward, take her and befriend her and treat her as you would me, then
I would be more grateful to you than you could ever possibly know.

You want me to take a stranger back with me to the castle?

Celaena squeezed his hands, her eyes pleading. She has suffered many cruelties thanks to your Baroness, but is still
the sweetest, most compassionate girl you could ever hope for. She is beautifulfar more beautiful than I could ever
be, and she is smart and funny in an eccentric way, and she can read and write and tell wonderful stories.

Galan took a deep breath. It would not do to return to the castle empty-handed.

Whats her name? he asked, smiling as a grin broke out across Celaenas face.

Cindrillion, she said, and her smile faltered as Galan blinked furiously.

He had heard that name beforedays and days ago. The Baroness had been thereshe had screeched it. And it had
belonged to

Come again?

Cindrillion, Celaena repeated, releasing his hands.

She Galan said, and rubbed his neck. She wouldnt happen to look like you, would she?

Celaena laughed aloud, her eyes bright and moist. Ill take that as a yes. She listened to the quiet that had settled
over the house.

Lets go now, she said, It sounds as if the struggle is over.

Galan nodded. I suppose I should go out the back and re-enter from the frontjust so it doesnt look bizarre that Im
entering from the servants quarters.

Celaena snorted. That would be fitting. She turned to Luca. Unlock the pantry, will you?

Galan had moved to the doorway, but stopped. I dont suppose that I shall see you again before you leave. There
was a twinge of sadness to his voice that made Celaenas breath catch in her throat.

No, she said softly, I dont suppose you will.

He strode over to her, Luca moving aside, and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. This, he said as he kissed
her brow, and Celaena closed her eyes, is for courage. This, he kissed her cheek, is for strength. This, he kissed
her other cheek, is for luck. And this, he said, kissing her lipsever so softly, this is for you.

Celaena smiled at him, her eyes opening, and wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. Thank
you, she whispered into his ear, Thank you and your country and your people.

She released him, still smiling though her eyes threatened to fill up again, and pointed down the stairs. You had
better get a head start. We want to make this a good scene.

Farewell, Aelin Galathynius, I hope that we shall meet again, Galan grinned, though his eyes were still sad, and
walked down the stairs, glancing back only once before he disappeared.

Celaena looked at Luca, who was standing beside her.

Im sorry I never told you, she said quietly.

Luca snorted and ran a hand through his brown hair. Despite Galans reaction, Im not that surprised that you turned
out to be both a queen and an assassin. With all of the people that youve been listing these past few months, I would
have thought you quite the liar had you not had some sort of sound reasoning behind it.

Celaena smiled at him, and sat on the bed. Her throat was dry, and she needed water badly.

So thats how you knew how to train me? Because youreCelaena Sardothien? he almost choked on the word, but
managed to smile anyway.

Does it make you feel like less of a knight?

Luca laughed. Not so much when I realize that it was Queen Aelin Galathynius who trained me as well.

Celaena grinned, Just dont start calling me your majesty or any of that nonsense. She laughed to herself, though
she soon found herself smiling sadly as she stared at the floor.

Youre leaving now, arent you?

Luca looked surprisingly sad, if not on the verge of crying.

Celaena nodded. Yesmy boat leaves tomorrow at noon.

And youre going back to do what? Plead for the king not to kill you? That sounds ridiculous. Lucas voice was hard.
Its suicide.

Celaena smiled weakly. I have more than swords and daggers to protect me now, she said. And Ive been through
worse.

Luca raised his eyebrows, and Celaena rolled her eyes. Compared to the Valg, a tyrant and a palace full of guards is
nothing.

Luca only stared at her. So, I suppose that well also never see you again.

Ah, she said, rising. Who knows? Perhaps you shall when war is not so eminent.

Do you really plan on leading a war against Adarlan?

She shrugged. I suppose. I havent really thought about it. If the king wants a war, then Ill give him one, but if hes
willing to let my countryand the other countries that he has unfairly takengo without a fight, then Im willing to
settle down in peace.

Luca raised an eyebrow. Do you really believe that will happen?

Celaena snorted. Do I wish for it? Yes. Do I believe it? No. Hell fight for those countries tooth and nail, and Ill be
lucky if I manage to get my throne back, let alone raise an army to help me defend it.

Luca opened his mouth, but Celaena cut him off, rising from her place on the bed. It is safe to say, Luca, that, yes, I
may die. I may destroy my whole country while Im at it as well, including those I manage to muster around me. Its
an impossible task, but I have to do it.

Why?

Because someone once made up this stupid prophecy, Celaenas eyes were moist again, and she scolded herself for
so much crying in one day, that I would ultimately have the ability to save or damn my country. Im not really one to
follow the gods, but as my great-aunt is apparently Deaenna, I think that perhaps it would be good to try to live up to
my expectations for once.
Besides, she said, there are people out there that I am willing to now fight for, and die for. Some of them are
people that I dont even know yet, some of them have been dead for years, but theyre people that believed, even
when I myself could not, that there could be a world free of this awful empire, and it was a world worth dying for.

So it is for them that Ill fight, for the people who know that one man is not meant to rule all, for the people who
stand up, despite the many odds against them, for what is right and good. For the people that defy Adarlans rule with
every breath they take, for the people who lived when they were not supposed to live, and who fought when they
were not allowed to, and for the people who hold to my earth, my beautiful country of Trasien, with unrelenting
hands.

She barely was able to notice the tears on Lucas face before the youth grabbed her into a firm embrace. I love you,
he said, as a sister, mind you, but I still love you.

Her arms encircled his back, and she felt his tears fall upon her neck.

The time for goodbyes, my friend, has not yet come, she said, and released him. He wiped his face on his sleeve,
ignorant to the fine fabric that he wore. We still have work to do: a servant girl is waiting for her prince charming,
and we must rescue her.

Luca chuckled and offered his arm as they descended from the tower, saying nothing more.

They found Cindrillion sitting quietly in the pantry, no tears upon her face, half-asleep. They said little to her as they
pulled her from the closet and smoothed her dress, wishing that she would empty her pockets of all the junk she
carried around. From the front parlor, they could hear Galans voice above the Baroness shrill laughterapparently,
the woman was trying to convince him that Marghennas feet had swelled considerably since the night before.

Luca led the confused girl from the kitchen, and Celaena trailed behind, knowing that to say goodbye now would be to
reveal everything. She instead smiled at the girl, unable to keep the sadness from her face as she saw Luca bring her
into the parlor, announcing that he had found another female member of the household.

Celaena hid in the shadows of the hallway, peering into the room, as she saw Luca help Cindrillion into a cushioned
seat, the Baroness and her daughters staring at each other as if Luca had just spat upon them. Galan had risen from
his chair, and Celaena was surprised to see, though she never discovered why, his eyes widen as he knelt down
beside her chair and motioned for his attendant.

The servant, short and fat, rushed forward, but apparently Joline had been untying the laces of his shoes and knotting
them together as they had tried, without avail, to convince the prince that Marghenna was indeed the lady from the
night before.

The man took but two steps before he fell flat on his face, the glass slipper flying from the cushion and shattering on
the marble floor.

Celaena took a step forward, and Galan looked to Luca.

Cindrillion began to say something, offering her assistance, but Galan shook his head. The Baroness exchanged a
smile with her daughters, and leaned back in her seat.

Its no botherno big deal, really, Galan said, blushing.

But perhaps, Cindrillion began leaning forward.

No, no, he interrupted. It was a silly thing anyway: I mean, its just a shoe, right?

He shook his head, looking a bit disappointed.

If it would help

No, its really

But you see, Cindrillion said, loudly, fishing deep into her dress pockets as Galan stared up at her. I have the other
slipper.

And, with that, she pulled forth the match, sparkling and untarnished as it had been the moment Celaena had put it in
her pocket.

The princes eyes went wide, and the Baroness uttered a small cry of dismay as the servant girl handed the youth the
shoe.

May I? Galan asked, gesturing at her left foot, and Cindrillion nodded, removing her dirty brown shoe. He took her
ankle gently in his hand, and Celaena fought against the urge to jump and yell for joy as the glass slipper, despite
impressive odds, slid onto the girls foot, fitting perfectly.

The prince and the maid merely smiled at each other, suddenly ignorant of the world around them, as the Baroness
began to protest, and the young man stood to offer his new companion a hand with which to raise herself. Luca
stepped between the approaching woman and the couple, and Celaena slipped further back towards the kitchen,
hiding in the entrance to the dining room. Cindrillion and Galan walked arm and arm from the chateau, and never
looked back.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena stood outside of the chateau, her sack hung over her shoulder and Goldryn sheathed in her hand, staring at
her three remaining companions. It was mid-afternoon by now, and the best place to say goodbye was outside, as the
Baroness and her daughters had retreated into a fit of sobs and screams that required no special attention.

Stephaenya looked lovelyher brown hair shone sparks of gold and red, and her green velvet dress was beautifully
embroidered around the waist with red and gold thread that outlined her slender form. She looked older, but happier
she had looked like a girl as a peasant, but as a Lady-to-be she had all of the poise and grace of a woman.

Leighanna, with Cindrillion gone and Celaena about to leave, was already expressing her desire to retire, and as Luca
had immediately offered her a bed and room at Ghents estate, her plans were quickly developing into action.

Celaena looked at both women, and then at Luca, smiling as she saw a slight breeze carry the letter that she had
taken the past hour to write onto the kitchen table. In it, she had explained everything: everything that she had
explained to Luca, and then some. She knew that he would never tell either of them without her own expressed
approval, and as Celaena had not had a moment free since Cindrillions departure, she figured that this would suffice.

A falcon cried in the distance and Celaena laughed slightly. I suppose that I should be going nowI want to reach
Doranelle before nightfall.

They smiled at her, her three companions whom she had grown to love so much, and Celaena took a deep breath.

Im terrible at goodbyes, she admitted, laughing slightly. Leighanna, she said, feeling a bit foolish as she took a
step forward and embraced the old woman. Thank you for introducing me to paestiamy stomach will never be the
same.

The woman laughed. Youre not as bad as a cook as you think you are. Ill never have anyone as dedicated to
scrubbing the pots and pans as you, but I dont think Ill be cleaning many dishes after today.

Celaena smiled. I may have to send for you in AdarlanI dont know how long I can survive without your cooking.
Her heart was beating terribly loud, and her face was already a brilliant shade of red.

They laughed together, and Celaena moved to Stephaenya, Luca and Leighanna stepping aside to give them room.

You must keep dancing, Celaena said, Even when you think its unladylike.

Stephaenya smiled, and Celaena felt her face turn to a pile of ashes as the girls smile turned into tear-filled eyes. She
threw her arms around Celaenas neck and squeezed her tightly. I just want to thank you, she whispered, for
everything that you did for Lucaand for us. Youyoull never know how much youve changed things around here.
Celaena released the girl, wiping the tears from Stephaenyas delicate face.

Must you go? she asked, and Celaena nodded.

I have unfinished things to do in Adarlan. I shall write to you soon.

She smiled at the girl, who wiped her tears further, and felt her heart clench as she turned to face Luca.

She looked at him, now as brave and strong as any noble could be, and was unable to speak. He, above all others,
had come so far, and done so muchShe would miss himmiss them, and she was already missing them so much
that it hurt to breathe. She didnt know when she would find such wonderful, true friends again, or if she would ever
see these three again while she still lived. It should have been enough that they were all happy and free of servitude
and poverty, it should have been enough that she was leaving them to begin their livesand her lifeanew, but it
wasnt. A part of her was being left behind here, a part of her was being ripped from her chest and it would always
remain in the knolls and forests of Wendlyn.

She began crying again, thinking that one person should not be able to cry so much in one day, and tried to smile as
she saw Lucas eyes overflow. They looked at each other for a moment, silver lines down their faces, and then rushed
forward into an embrace.

I love you, she whispered into his ear, her mouth a trembling mess of red and white, as a brother, mind you, but I
still love you.

Luca only squeezed her tighter.

Youhow can I ever repay you for what youve done?

Celaena chuckled, sniffing back snot as she whispered: What else are half-faerie queens supposed to do but
transform peasant girls and boys into lords and ladies?

She released him and held him by the shoulders at arms reach. Enjoy your happy ending, she said as she smiled.
Youve deserved it.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek and then moved back, picking up her sack and Goldryn from where she had
dropped them on the ground.

Youve done more for me and my country than any of you can possibly know, she addressed her friends. And
though Ive made a horrible mess of myself with all of this crying she looked from one face to the next, I love you
all.

They smiled at her, and Luca, still crying, put his arm around Stephaenyas shoulders.

Celaena bowed to them, and, wiping the tears from her face, turned from the chateau and walked towards the woods,
waving only once before disappearing into the trees.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Luca walked into the kitchen, his heart heavier than he thought it would be. He sat down at the long wooden table,
knowing that this would perhaps be their last time there, and his brows raised slightly as he picked up the envelope
addressed to the three of them.

Whats that? Stephaenya said, taking a seat beside him. Leighanna collapsed into her chair at the head of the table,
and peered over at the boy. With only three, the kitchen seemed so much largerand quieter.

I dont know, Luca said as he opened the envelope and found a letter, several pages in length, written in somewhat
uneven handwriting. He had never seen it before, and while the stationary belonged to the Baroness, it was not her
hand, nor that of her two daughters.

He glanced to the end of the letter, straightened as he saw the name written there, and cleared his throat. His eyes
now dry, he looked to both women. Its from Elentulyai, he said.
What does it say? It looks quite long, Leighanna said. Read it aloud.

Luca looked to Stephaenya, who nodded, and began to read:

My dear friends,

By this point, I will have made a horrible mess out of myself while saying goodbye, and I apologize in advance (or
rather hindsight, I suppose) for any awkwardness or strange tears. I am not one who is skilled at goodbyes, nor am I
one who is used to having friends to say goodbye to, so I readily expect myself to cause a melodramatic scene. I
know that I will not be able to properly say all that is in my heart, and all that you deserve to hear, having lived with
me for these few, wonderful months, so I offer you this letter as both proof of my genuine love and appreciation of
you, as well as to my true identity.

Luca, as he found out earlier today, can attest to all that I will say in here, though do not blame him for not
informing you sooner. I did not tell him to speak of it to you, nor did I tell him not to speak to you: out of the genuine
nobility of his character, he did neither, and I thank him for that kindness.

Luca paused, and looked at either woman, smiling slightly as he read the next lines.

My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and, by birth, I am the rightful heir of Trasiens throne.

Stephaenya gasped, and then grabbed the paper from Lucas hands, reading the sentence and the one that followed
twice over before staring at him, open-mouthed. Leighanna, smiling to herself, merely nodded for the boy to continue.

But my name is also Celaena Sardothien, and for the past fifteen years I have lived as Adarlans assassin.

Luca stopped again, but neither woman moved.

Luca can tell you the details of my long and sad story, but I merely wish for you to know that I came to these shores
as Celaena Sardothien and that I am now leaving them as Aelin Galathynius. Through the course of my time here,
youall of youhave played a hand in transforming me from that wretched person into the one that I am today, and
so I thank you for that.

I return to Adarlan tomorrow to reclaim my country, and I do not know if I shall live through it. I am not afraid of
dying, though I know that my doom awaits me in the glass palace.

An uncertain path lies ahead of me, my friends, and all that I ask of you is that you remain as such, so that when my
nights are dark and full of despair, and my road is long and lonely, I may look back upon my time with you and know
that there is as place in the world where I am indeed loved, and a place where evil will never harm the pure of heart,
where loyalty, bravery, and honor are values held and observed.

Luca stopped and covered his mouth, unable to stop the tears that kept on falling down onto the table. Stephaenya,
running a hand along his cheek, gently look the letter from him, and though her eyes were damp, she read aloud in a
clear, unshaken voice:

The world is a large and dangerous place, filled with people good and bad, things beautiful and sublime, and
magickal, mysterious things. I have seen much of these things, for I have walked on two sides of what used to be a
coin, but it now rather seems to be just one continuous path.

Im sorrythat makes little sense. What I mean is that Ive seen many things, and while I thought that I was
originallyNever mind all that. Ignore those three sentences. Either way, theres a lot to see and experience in this
world, so much so that youll never cease for joy and wonder should you merely look at everything with eyes
unclouded by hate: those who do not believe in magick will never find it.

There is goodness in this world, and I believe that every man is capable of it (save for one). You three (but also
including Cindrillion) have shown me that. You took me into your hearts without question, and at a time when I
needed basic human affection, not based on my true identity, but rather on my own qualifications as a human being.
You showed me that courage, courage in the face of great odds, is not the absence of fear, but rather the realization
that there exists, beyond our own petty feelings, a cause greater than fear, a cause worth living for, worth fighting
for, worth dying for.
So it is for you, above all, that I will be fighting. It is for you, and all those like you, that I will wage my war against
Adarlan, and for you that I will

Stephaenya, her eyes beginning to resemble Lucas, handed the paper over to Leighanna. You finish it, she said. I
cant read any more of this without turning into him.

The old woman smiled, and took the letter in her hands, clearing her throat before beginning.

It is for you, and all those like you, that I will wage my war against Adarlan, and for you that I will go on, until there
is nothing left of me and my sword is broken to its very hilt, until freedom is established once again in all of the
countries of this great earth.

Please remember me with fondness, for I am certain that newsterrible and strangewill reach you at some point of
my whereabouts and doings. Please do not believe what the rumors say, or what you may read in the papers, for so
long as I draw breath, my one and only cause is to ensure the liberation of my country. I will put aside personal
happiness for that cause, even love itself, if that is what is demanded.

Perhaps, when times are better and happier, and when tyrants are forgotten and buried far beneath the ground, you
will come to me in Trasien. I know how much you love Wendlyn, for I too share that love, but know that there is
always a place in Orynth for you, where you will never have to work another day in your life. Goodness knows that
that future world will need a good cook, a dancer, and a knight.

So, I bid you farewell my dear, dear friends, and send whatever blessings a queen might be able to bestow upon her
companions. If you should ever encounter any hardship, do not hesitate, war or no war, to sail to me in Trasien. My
doors will always be open to you.

I will love you all for as long as I continue to be blessed with life, and I again cannot thank you enough for all that
you have done.

Look for yourselves in songs and books and poetry, for that is where you shall be remembered by the world once I
am able to fully tell my tale. You dont know it, but you managed to save my life, and my countryso I think that I
am free to extend the thanks of my people. Hopefully I wont make things worse when I return.

So, againfarewell. I go now to my doom, and Im sure that word will reach you soon enough about the outcome of
that situation. I suppose that theres no turning back, for my great adventure has begun (or am I in the middle of
one?), and though I may be small, I have always been a firm believer in the romantic notion that one person can
change the world. May your lives be filled with happiness and love, and may you never lose the characters that are
so, so dear to me.

All of my love,

Your eternal friend,

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Trasien.

Leighanna put the letter down, wiping her eyes, and stared at the couple, who were crying softly.

Who would have guessed, the old woman said, all of this time, we had not only a queen, but that assassin you two
are always arguing about! I suppose that all those stories she told us were true.

Stephaenya raised her head from Lucas shoulder and smiled, brushing away her tears. I also suppose that Ive been
right all along: Sardothien was a woman.

Luca looked at his fiance, and laughed, sniffing strongly. Dont let it go to your head, he muttered.

Stephaenya sighed. Queen Aelin Galathynius, she breathed. I dont suppose well ever see her again.

Luca shook his head. Perhaps we shall.

The young woman looked at the letter and then out the kitchen door, where the spring sun was shining warmly.
Whatever her path is, I hope that it isnt a lonely one, she said softly.

Luca kissed her cheek, his eyes following hers to outdoor scene. It wont be, he whispered, and stared up at the
brilliant sky.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael was dreaming. In fact, he was certain of it, for he knew that when he had fallen asleep with the
intention of resting for only an hour in the mid-afternoon sunshine, and that he had not fallen asleep in the desert
lands of the South.

He stared around the room, already beginning to sweat from the blistering heat. It was beautifully decorated: mosaic
columns of blue and white tiles lined the several open doors that let out onto what appeared to be a wrap-around
balcony, sheer curtains blowing gently in the hot breeze. Beyond lay a city, large and flat, of square, red clay houses,
on whose rooftops Chaol could make out furniture and potted vegetation. The sky was a clear blue with not a cloud to
be found, though on the horizon he could make out white birds soaring above the unmistakable jade sea of the
southern half of the continent.

He looked around the room. It appeared to be a bedroom, decorated with ornate wooden furniture and expensive-
looking rugs over a white marble floor. To his left, there was a gigantic bed, carved from dark wood, beneath a tent of
gossamer curtains. To his surprise, someone was sleeping in the bedsomeone blond and pale and unmistakably
female.

Unable to stop himself, he gently pulled back the curtain and peered in.

It was Aelin: her golden hair was long and wild around her slumbering face, and she was

As Chaol took a step back, she opened her eyes and smiled at him sleepily. Where have you been? she asked lazily,
yawning. Chaol tried not to look at her naked body, but she then stretched, and he felt his face turn red.

Is something wrong? she asked, propping herself up on one elbow. Yes, this was definitely a dream.

Where were you? I was waiting for hours for you to come back! I suppose that I fell asleep from boredom.

If this were a dream, why did he have no idea where he was or what was going on?

I Chaol looked at her again and then sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

You didnt develop heat fever again, did you? Vuljad told you to wear something over your head when you went out!
She scolded, though her tone was not severe. She crawled over to him and peered over his shoulder. Im not
surprised that youre in a daze: you were probably wandering the streets like a buffoon.

Chaol snorted, and shook his head. This was a dream, just a strange, strange dream.

Chaol?

Where am I?

She laughed. In Banjali, and, if you must know, we have been living here for four years, six months, and fifteen
days.

Deciding that this was the perfect opportunity to find out everything that didnt make sense about the dream, Chaol
continued, keeping his voice weak. What are we doing here?

She laughed, and wrapped her arms around him, embracing his back. Well, were married, and attempting to live out
our lives in peace.
Married? he said, and sat up, turning to look at her.

She reached around him and took his left hand, holding up his wedding band for him to see. Yes, married, she
replied.

But what about Dorian? he blurted out before he could think. She playfully smacked his shoulder and laughed again.
Perhaps this fever is more severe than your last one!

He raised his eyebrows, and she frowned slightly. You really dont remember, do you?

She let out a sigh. The next time this happens, Im just going to pretend like were strangers and let you walk out of
the house.

Chaol stared at the wedding band on her hand, his heart beating strangely. She was his wifehis wife.

She let out a sigh and began to recite what seemed like a story she had told a hundred times. You and Thaelius
contacted me in a dream the night before I was to return to Adarlan, and convinced me to sail to another port and
meet you there. I did, and we decided that the best thing to do was to wait here in the South until things were safer
in Adarlan. But I suppose that we liked it so much here that we chose to stay, and Thaelius got angry and he left, and
you and I got married, and weve been living happily off of our fortunes ever since.

But

Dorian married that woman, and his father died two years agoKaltain, of all people, found her way back to the
castle and murdered him in her sleep. Funny how things work out.

Then Trasien

Dorian has not freed Trasien, nor any of these countries, she said, her voice losing its strength.

Chaol stared at her, suddenly understanding that sad gleam in her eye, and moved his mouth to speak, but found no
words.

She laughed again and dragged him further onto the bed. Enough storytelling, she purred into his ear as she began
to pull his shirt from him. Ive been waiting all morning for you and I want to have you twice before dinner.

Chaol laid in the bed, staring at the woman lying beside himasleep, yet again. He was in a state of euphoria, and did
not care to think of anything other than the sheer bliss of the past few hours. He was covered in sweat, and still
breathing heavily, but a smile was upon his face. She was his wifehis wife under the gods and amongst men.

The canopy billowed around the bed, and Chaol watched the light play across her face. She was smiling in her sleep,
her face as youthful as it had been during her early twenties. He now noticed the slight bump on her stomach, and he
reached out a shaking hand to find that it was firm. He almost jumped from his skin when she put her hand over his,
sighing in her sleep as she pressed his hand to her belly.

The realization sent ripples of pleasure through him, and soon Chaol realized that those ripples were extending out
through the air, blurring the surface of everything in the room. He looked around in wonder, and turned to her face
again. The room shifted around him, and he found himself seeing a series of consecutive images that made his heart
clench.

He saw Aelin in labor, and the birth of their first son, a beautiful boy who quickly turned into an infant with chestnut
hair and ivory skin, curious and clever. He saw her in labor again, and the baby this time fair, though he bore the
golden skin of his father. They grew up strong and brave, intelligent and compassionate, handsome but not arrogant,
soon becoming more than any father could ever wish for in his sons. He saw the long summers they spent in a lovely
cottage in the marshlands of Mecherta, and the winters they spent in Banjali, and the many adventures that they had,
as a family, across the Southern half of the continent. No one ever came looking for them, no word ever reached
them about Trasien, and though they told their children the story of their mothers heritage, the boys, though young,
were not bothered by it.
She was always smiling, her face always lit with joy as she looked at her two sons, and it seemed to Chaol that there
was never an unhappy moment as the seasons passed and passed. He had never felt so joyous, had never known that
four people could live in such bliss for so long

He saw her again, running through the grasslands of Eyputiusunn, looking behind her and laughing. Her golden hair
was a wave around her bobbing head, and he had never seen her look so beautiful. He followed her, gliding after her
like an invisible wraith, until they reached the border of trees that loomed before them. He knew that these were the
first trees in the Forest of Glamasil, which stretched from Eyputiusunn all the way to the Northern Sea of Trasien
itself. She faded as she reached the trees and Chaol spotted the two aging tombstones lying at the very edge of the
Southern border, but not quite into the North itself.

On it were their engraved names, dates of birth and death. They had died not two weeks apart: he had gone first, and
she second. A stag was carved into the crown of her grave, and, from the look of it, someone had recently laid flowers
across it.

Then the visions stopped, and Chaol found himself staring at Aelin again, still sleeping with his hand pressed to her
growing belly.

There would always been that hint of sadness in her eyes, though they would be blissfully, unfairly happy. There
would always been that regret, that knowledge that she had chosen for herself rather than her country. He saw
Trasien still enslaved under Dorians rule, and knew that his former friend had turned out to be little better than his
father.

The world began to fade and contract again, and Chaol knew that it was ending.

He leaned forward and kissed her upon her brow, his heart already aching.

I love you, Aelin, he whispered into her ear, suddenly unable to properly breathe. And Im sorry.

Her eyelids fluttered, but before she could open her eyes, everything disappeared and Chaol found himself lying on
Celaena Sardothiens bed in Renaril, the clock showing that he had only been asleep for fifteen minutes.

Lying there, he knew that it hadnt been a dream, but rather a vision of the future, of what would pass should
Thaelius contact Aelin tonight. He breathed in and out, putting a hand to his chest as he stared upwards.

He would tell no oneeverof this vision, especially Aelin. No one could ever know.

He closed his eyes again for a moment, remembering her smiling facea face that had smiled just for him, before
getting up. He did not deny himself the few tears that fell down his face as he walked from the bedroom, the
afternoon sunlight hot and stuffy, to convince Thaelius not to contact Aelin Galathynius.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien strode into Doranelle, each step as determined as the next. Her chin was high as she walked
through the streets, nodding her head to the Fae that passed her, and she smiled weakly as she heard the sound of
wings in her left ear. Raonn circled once around her before flying towards the Great Tree, and when Celaena
approached, she found him waiting for her at the entrance.

How are you feeling? he asked, brushing his silver hair behind his shoulders.

Celaena cocked her head to the side. Strangedifferentbut I think Im doing well.

Raonn took her sack from her shoulder and carried it for her as they entered into the tree. That was a very kind thing
you did for your friend. Im sure that it wasnt easy.

Celaena glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. You mean Cindrillion? It was easier than I thought it would be.

Well, I cant imagine that he will fall immediately in love with her, though she is a pretty girl.

I dont know, Celaena mused, a wry smile on her face.

Up and up they walked, the massive spiral staircase lit with orbs of purple light.

How was your ball?

She shrugged her shoulders. Fine.

Since the king is still alive, I take it that you didnt manage to

Theres no need for that anymore, she said, fighting to keep down the smile of self-satisfaction. The assassin was
done.

She had thought about it on the long walk to Doranelle, thought about it as she walked past the ancient trees and
through the soft mosses and across the gentle streams. There was a stillness within her, a stillness that calmed her
burning desire for Orynth, for the crown, for the hand of the man that she loved. It was all within her grasp. All that
she had to do was take it. A three-week boat ride and a show of force and it would be over.

Celaena Sardothien is no more?

She looked at the stairs beneath her, a sad smile creeping across her face. I think that the world needs Aelin
Galathynius much more than they need Celaena Sardothien.

They reached the top of the tree, Celaena finding some amount of satisfaction in the fact that she was not out of
breath, and walked into Maeves chambers.

Purple gossamer curtains, just like the dresses the queen often wore, floated into the room on the spring breeze,
overlooking a vast expanse of trees and mountains. Light wood furniture, beautifully crafted into the shape of animals,
mythic and real, spotted the room, and artifacts covered many surfaces, some glittering, some stone or wooden,
some little more than wisps of air.

Maeve walked through the balcony doors, the lavender curtains blending in with her flowing dress, a small smile on
her face.

You are leaving tomorrow, she said, and Celaena nodded. She sensed Raonn tensing behind her, but she did
nothing.

Ifif you dont mind, Id like to spend the night here, Celaena inquired, shrugging slightly.

Maeve let out a silvery laugh that made Celaenas heart lighten. The three of us shall dine together this evening.

Celaenas thumb caressed the ruby in Goldryns pommel. But first you shall tell me useverything. From what
happened after your last night here to the incredible events of the past day which have resulted in you looking so,
Maeve smiled, poised.

The once-assassin merely nodded her head, and collapsed downwards onto Maeves couch, the velvet cushions letting
out a long sigh for her.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

That certainly is a change ofheart, shall we say? Maeve said, smiling. So you intend to return to Adarlan to
confront the king to win back your country, win back your lover, and see if you manage to survive the process?

Celaena shrugged and nodded.

Maeve frowned slightly, her eyes sparkling. For once, that plan is probably what I would have come up with had I
been in your situation. Use Aedion and Tiryn well.

Raonn was sitting quietly, staring at Celaena with eyes that she would later understand.
Maeve looked from the Fae Prince to the human princess and then stood, her dark hair throbbing in the sunshine of
the late afternoon. Come, she said, gesturing to Celaena. Before you leave, there is something that I would like for
you to do.

Celaena rose, her face full of confusion.

Under the roots of this tree is a lake. We do not name it. Some say the waters stem directly from Alaii, the sacred
lake in the mountains where Athril himself was instructed. It is my domain, and none may enter save for myself and
those that I deem worthy.

Celaena chewed on her lip.

It is a magick lake, and is what keeps this tree alive and growing. Its waters have healing powers, and the spirit that
resides within the lake is far older than I, or any other being on this planet.

Maeve picked up a small, empty glass vial from the table beside her, along with a small silver coin. If you throw
this, she said as she held up the coin, into the lake, the spirit will emerge and answer one questiononly one, and
no more. It can be any question in the world, but it must be your own.

Maeve handed Celaena the coin, which was light and cold, and then held up the vial. I want you to fill this vial with
water from the lake, and take it with you to Adarlan. It will heal any wounds if you splash just a little on them, but Im
afraid that if you are mortally wounded, you must drink the entire vial. Use it carefully, for I am permitted to give only
one vial to each person I admit to the lake.

Celaena took the vial from Maeve and stared at her. So I can ask any question?

Maeve slowly nodded her head. Choose wisely. The spirit can see things from the past, present, and future, though it
acknowledges that the last of those is subject to change.

Celaena took a step towards the door and looked back at Maeve. You arent coming?

She shook her head. No. Walk down to the bottom of the tree, past the entrance, down until the stairs stop. You will
find a small bronze door with no doorknob. If you wave the coin in front of it, the door will open. Walk down the long
passageway until you find a set of steps. There will be lights along the way. Go down those steps until you reach the
very bottom and then walk down another passageway. The lake will be before you.

Celaena nodded.

Do not, Maeve said, her voice firm. Touch the water until it has given you leave to do so.

Celaena nodded again, feeling a bit more than nervous.

Raonn will be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs when you return.

Celaena looked at both of them for a moment before she turned from the room and left.

She kept her eyes upon the stairs as she descended, too busy in her attempt to find the right question to notice
anything else. She quickly reached the bottom, and waved the silver coin before the ancient bronze portal. A symbol
of a circle with a line through the center lay upon the door, carved with an ancient hand. As she passed through, she
could not help but think of her tattoo, but when she turned to look at the door again, it slammed shut in her face.

It was dark in the passageway, and cold. The ground was dry earth, and Celaena put a hand to one of the walls,
which were no more than six feet across, finding it to be surprisingly wet, though the earth was hard and firm. She
moved closer, and found that the water was trickling upwards from the ground, into the tree itself.

She did not marvel for long, and soon removed her hand from the wall and walked forward, following the spheres of
light that were embedded in the rock walls. Water flowed across them, casting ripples of light in the long corridor, and
Celaena let herself be calmed by the sounds of running water as she went down into the long, long darkness.
She couldnt think of a proper question, or at least one that extended beyond her own petty personal matters, and
while there were some larger questions that she would like to ask, she knew that some of the answers would be too
overwhelming, and that to ask one question would be to leave out many connecting ones.

Eventually, she reached the stairs, which veered sharply to her left. Though lights lined either side of the passageway,
she could see nothing beyond the gloom that lay in the distance. Shivering slightly in the damp air, she continued to
walk down the stairs, her mind working itself into a frenzy.

What question to ask! What one question could she possibly never find an answer for? She did not care for thoughts
of gods or the grand scheme of the world, but there were so many other things: like how many stars there were in
the sky, or if there were other people similar to her out there, millions and millions of miles away, across the stars
and endless darkness.

Down and down and down she went, one step after another, her fine boots now scraping against what she discovered
was limestone. Water still trickled upwards, and Celaena occasionally dragged her hand across either wall, feeling its
smoothness against her skin.

She didnt know if minutes, hours, or days passed by as she continued walking, but soon she reached what appeared
to be the bottom. A dark passageway lay before her, with no lights at all, and beyond that seemed to be a line of
silverthe lake perhapsthat throbbed dully.

Celaena closed her eyes, summoning her magick to her as she took a step into the dark. She opened them, looking
around the passageway, and found, in her grey and white vision, that it was marked with endless symbols and
drawings: primeval, cryptic, terrifying. They stretched down the hallway, covering not only the walls, but also carved
into the floor and ceiling itself. As she walked, she stared at these depictionssome were barely more than stick
drawings of people on horses or on mountains or in the sky. Some showed epic battles, etched in what could have
been blood, some showed animals old and forgotten. She hurried down the passageway, barely able to take in all that
was around her as she stared at every surface, staggering a few times as she forgot her feet.

Before she knew it, she stumbled into a vast cavern with more rootweed dangling from the thousands of roots that
covered the ceiling than Celaena could ever care to see. Beneath it laid a lake: massive in size, and flowing straight
back to what seemed to be the entrance of an underground river. The glowing flowers lit the room so well that
Celaena let her magick rest, and she took a step forward, the floor little more than shining black rock, smooth as
glass but sharp and uncut like a mountain face. She walked carefully, her feet still sore from her fiasco in the woods
the night before, and stopped a good three feet from the still lake.

The water was silver, not just from the light, but actually silver in hue. She longed to put her hand in, just to feel it, to
touch that endless river of shimmering, sparkling

Dont be an idiot.

Celaena straightened herself, and fished the coin out of her pocket. She looked at it once, her mind still not entirely
made up, and threw it gently into the water. She saw it float downwards for a moment before a figurea woman, a
wraithlashed out beneath the surface and grabbed it before disappearing into the dark depths without making a
dent in the coins ripple.

Celaena uttered a cry and staggered backwards. The figure had been cleardressed in white, but its eyes

She shook her head in mild horror, trying to erase the red eyes of the ghostly figure from her mind. It had appeared
from nowhere and then

She rubbed her arms and glanced at the tunnel through which she had come. It was barely noticeable against the
black glass of the cavern, but she marked its location in her mindjust in case.

She waited, still trying to think of a good question, staring at the lake. The ripples from her coin were now
disappearing.

She heard a voice thenor, rather, it seemed to be several voices. It chilled her to the bone, and Celaena found
herself mustering her courage before she could comprehend what it had said to her.

What question would you ask of us?

Celaena stared at the lake, dumbstruck with horror as she saw hundreds and hundreds of white figures swarming
beneath the surface, watching her with faces foreign and familiar, beautiful and terrifying. They all bore the same,
ruby-red eyes, and Celaena paused for a moment, recalling Maeve informing her that Goldryns ruby had a very
strange, very interesting history. Had hehad he

Dont think of useless questions!

Celaena watched the white, almost translucent wraiths swim beneath the water, drawing closer to the shore with each
passing second. The lakes surface did not move, and Celaena bit on her lip, taking a step back, as a spirit brushed
against the rock of the shore, its white body blending in with the silver lining of the water.

Speak! the voices commanded, hissing, and the rootweed darkened for a moment.

I she said, her voice meek, I am Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Trasien.

We know, the voices said. What question would you ask of us?

Celaenas heart was beating so loudly that she could have sworn that the spirits could hear it.

II, she stammered. I wish to know

She thought of the question, of the answer that had been denied to her despite years of searching and wondering.

Whowho killed my parents?

There. It was done.

The lake made a noise as if it were sucking in air.

She felt as if, at last, her final sorrow were opened up and exposed. Of all the questions in the world, this one had
plagued her the most. She felt spoilt, knowing that most people would never have the ability to ask such a question,
let alone get an answer. But she needed to know in order to at last be at peace.

The lake made a strangling sound, and all of the spirits disappeared into the darkness of the lake. Then a word came,
a single word that answered everything, and set fire anew to the blinding determination in her heart.

Perringtonn, it whispered.

A rage, not the cold and frozen wasteland of an assassin, but the fiery, feral rage of a young queen whose world has
been threatened shot through her like a round of flaming arrows. Everything had fallen into place. It all made sense
now.

She stood staring at the lake beneath lowered brows, her face like carved ivory. All of the pieces were lining up.

She held out the glass vial for the lake to see.

You may touch the water, the voices said, little more than a sigh, and Celaena strode to the edge. She knelt, every
movement of her muscles filled with purpose. Perringtonn had done it. He hadnt been at the castle because he had
been hiding, waiting to murder her family. When they had left for the country, he had followed them, leaving the King
of Adarlan to murder her uncle in his sleep.

Celaena pulled the lid from the vial and scooped up the water, not noticing its frigid temperature.

But how had they managed to kill them without detection? How had they managed to break past the magickal barriers
and defenses?

Celaena closed the vial and stood, momentarily admiring the shimmering water within. She stalked to the doorway
and turned back.
Thank you, she said to the lake, and heard a lonely sigh fill the cavern as she saw what could have been a giant
bird-like figure flap its wings and fly beneath the smooth surface.

Up and up and up she went, the vial tucked firmly in her pocket. She kept her eyes upon the stairs before her, and did
not admire the lights or the strange water. She reached the bronze door and did not wait for it to open as she pushed
against it with one hand and kept on walking.

She was already on the stairs before Raonn ran up behind her. What did youwhat

Duke Perringtonn killed my parents, she said, her voice low and deep. She did not look at him as they began their
ascent.

The kings advisor?

She nodded her head, her blue eyes blazing as shafts of the setting sun were caught within their borders.

They managed to do something to both my uncle and my parents that made them sleep without detection.

A drugged drink?

No, she said, taking the steps two at a time. My family and the court would have detected anything unusual in the
food.

Then what? Raonn said, hurrying to keep after her. Tomorrow seemed like ages away.

I dont know, she said, her face as grave as her voice. But I wouldnt be surprised if thats how the king was able to
butcher your people as well.

They neared the final curve to Maeves chambers. What are you going to do? Raonn asked, his voice full of concern.

She stopped at the platform and looked at him. Destroy them, was all that she said before she strode into Maeves
room.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The food at dinner was divine: Celaena, who had eaten little in the past few days, could scarcely keep from shoveling
the it into her mouth as course after course were laid down for her. She wore a dress of charcoal black, and around
her neck hung the gold necklace that Raonn had given her as a birthday gift. She had bathed in the room Maeve had
given her for the night, which was a beautiful white and green apartment, and her short hair was now a mess of
waves and delicate curls. She attempted to pin it upon her head, but the front pieces kept on falling into her face, so
she merely twirled them around her finger and hoped that they looked attractive. In between bites she stared
frequently at Raals ring, and often took it off to rub between her two fingers.

They kept conversation simple, and it ranged all over. Celaena, who had never shared a meal with Maeve, was
amazed at how little she ateonly a few bites before she had her plate taken away. Raonn, on the other hand, ate as
much as she did, if not more, and Celaena found herself smiling frequently as he asked for second and third helpings
of most dishes.

The sun had set, and the stars shone overhead like a shimmering sash between Doranelle and Renaril, It was well
past ten when they finished their meal, and Maeve stood from the table, her purple robes billowing around her. Im
afraid that I still have much to do before I sleep, the Queen said, smiling at her young relatives. She had been barely
surprised to hear of the Galathynius assassins true name, and had only reminded Celaena to keep her head clear and
cool when she arrived in Adarlan.

Raonn rose from his chair and bowed to her as she walked past, her hand brushing against Celaenas shoulders.
Goodnight, the Faerie Queen said from the doorway, and then disappeared into her chambers. Celaena and Raonn,
sitting across from each other once again, looked down at their plates.

I suppose that I should go to bed, she said as the attendant took away their dessert plates, which Celaena had been
a step away from licking clean of whipped cream. I have to wake up early tomorrow to go to Port Moselian.
Ill Raonn said and stood. Allow me to escort you back to your rooms, he said, and walked over to her side of the
table. Celaena smiled awkwardly and rose, putting her cream-colored napkin onto the blue-covered surface.

They walked in silence from Maeves apartment, Celaenas golden sandals the only noise above the unearthly singing
that never ceased in Doranelle.

Reaching Celaenas apartment, she opened the wooden door and looked at Raonn, who looked as if he had something
to say.

Would you like to come in? she asked, and pointed at the balcony across the room. I believe that my view is better
than yours.

He nodded, ignoring her snide remark as he swallowed, and Celaena was more than a bit disturbed to find that he
looked nervous. They strode onto the balcony, and Celaena leaned against the wooden railing, staring out at the
forest beyond her. A wind, smelling faintly of the sea, ruffled the hair around her face, and her black gown, sheer in
many places, billowed behind her like a sail.

She did not want to leave. It was so peaceful here, so calm.

If only the whole world were like this!

Raonn was staring out across the forest as well, and Celaena glanced at him. His tattoo looked darker, more
pronounced in the starlight, though his skin glowed with the immortality of the Fae.

She snorted, and Raonn looked at her with raised brows.

Do you remember the first time we met?

Raonn smiled and clicked his tongue. You were naked and swimming around in one of my favorite forest pools.

Celaena laughed, Isnt it wonderful how people can change? Why, Id say that youd almost consider yourself my
friend by now.

Raonn smiled, but it quickly faded as he looked out on the forest again.

What? she asked him. He had become dear to her, as dear as any friend before him. If she thought about it, he was
probably her best and closest friend.

Raonn cleared his throat, keeping his eyes upon the trees below them. I know that you return to Adarlan with the
expectation of marrying the Crown Prince, he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

And I know that should that union occur, you will make a wonderful queen and an even better wife.

He brushed aside his hair and sighed. But, should things not go according to planshould he, for some impossible
reason, not return your love

He closed his eyes for a moment. Then you should know that you will always have a place here in Doranelle. And not
just hereI mean also at my side.

Celaenas eyes were full and bright as she stared at him, and he smiled faintly at her as he turned his head. She
stood, raising herself to properly look at him, and said nothing before she leaned forward and kissed him gentlya
kiss of thanks and friendshipupon the lips.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

The dawn broke, brilliant, over the trees, and Celaena held Goldryn to her chest, cradling the sheathed blade as she
looked out across the forest. She could just barely see the sea.

She was not nervous, though she did not like the distant clouds that hung on the Western horizon.
Her time had now come.

She closed her eyes for only a minute, imprinting the beautiful forests for Doranelle in her mind, and let out a long
breath from her nose.

She turned from the balcony and said goodbye to her room, leaving her black dress and Raonns necklace on the table
by the door. She would rather have it remain here until a safer time: it would not do to have some corrupt court lady
wearing it around her neck, or to have it taken apart and soldor melted.

Celaena walked down through the Great Tree, making her way to where Raonn had told her to meet him and Maeve.
She passed the gardens, and through the city itself, wearing the same clothes she had worn yesterday. The mapher
one remaining tool of leveragewas neatly tucked in her sack, far from prying eyes.

She at last spotted Raonn and Maeve standing in a clearing she had never seen before. It lay on the edge of
Doranelle, and was encompassed by just-blossoming dogwood trees. It was a large clearing, and the grass was a
deep green. A stump lay at the Western end of the clearing, though nothing was carved into its surface, and Celaena
smiled as she saw Raonn holding Meiresius bridle, the grey and cream horse stomping his front leg impatiently.

She smiled at her immortal companions and gently stroked the horses cheek after setting down her belongings.

Youre going? he asked, and Celaena kissed the horse between his dark eyes.

Ah, just for a time, my friend, she replied, running a hand through his white mane. Ill send for you when things
are safer for a Fae horse to roam across the continent.

Im not afraid, he said, and blew a hot puff of air into Celaenas face.

She smiled and petted his cheek. I know. She embraced his neck, feeling his strong, warm body beneath her, and
kissed him one final time.

She turned to Raonn and Maeve, and the Faerie Queen approached her, a small wooden box, imbedded with ivory and
mother of pearl, in her hands.

There is no spell that I could utter in any tongue that would give you satisfactory protection from what lies ahead.
Words and magick often have strange effects, and things are so unpredictable at the moment that I hesitate to even
give you the slightest charm.

Maeve opened the box, revealing a beautiful marbled jade and gold amulet, not more than three inches in diameter,
depicting an ivory swan sitting peacefully on a lake, its eye made of a sliver of sapphire, and its beak made of pure
gold leaf. It hung on a delicate golden chain, and Celaenas eyes widened as Maeve lifted it from the box.

Im afraid that this is the closest thing to protection that I can give you. This is the amulet of Evaelien Ashryver,
Maeve said, and Celaena bowed her head as the queen placed the necklace around her neck. The chain was long, and
the amulet hung between Celaenas breasts. It was surprisingly heavy. The swan was the animal form of your great-
grandmother, Mab, or Deaenna as the mortals now call her, and all of the Ashryver women of her descent have worn
this insignia with pride. Stars were drifting across Maeves eyes. She gave it to me before she left for Trasien, many,
many years ago, with the hope that one day I would bestow it upon her own child.

Maeve smiled to herself, her eyes filled with sadness. May it protect your heart in your darkest moments, even when
all hope is lost.

She leaned forward and kissed Celaenas forehead, and the young queen closed her eyes, her hand grasping the
amulet. Maeve stepped back, her dark eyes lit with thousands of stars, and bowed.

We will not meet again, Aelin Galathynius, she said softly. Celaena stared at the Fae Queen, wishing to say many
things, but finding no words.

Celaena had the feeling that she was standing before the mouth of a river, her ship, built only for one passenger,
ready to embark. She would have to leave much behind, but fortune and glory waited beyond the great blue and
green expanse, and she could see herself standing amongst the gold and pink clouds high above.
You are a strong young woman, though I believe that much of your strength has yet to be discovered. But
remember, she said her eyes lined with silver, no matter what anyone may say or do, you will always be Trasiens
queen, and no one except you yourself can deprive you of that right. The disembodied chorus was singing,
mournfully, beautifully, and Bulb flew around Celaenas head once before returning to Maeves side.

With that, the Faerie Queen bowed again, and stepped back to stand amongst the dogwood trees as Raonn came
forward.

She embraced him, feeling the strength and courage that ran though to his core, then looked up at his face. He
looked sad, though proud, and he brushed her hair back from her eyes. She would miss him dearly, and her heart was
already full of heavy sadness. Here was one thing that she would have trouble leaving behind, one thing that fortune
and glory could not compensate for.

You will be fine, he said gently. You have many allies to protect and guide you.

She nodded her head, chewing on her lip. Thank you, she said. Thank you for all that you have done for me. She
took his hand between hers. Her heart ached for a moment, but then a scentnutmeg and perhaps peonyfilled her
nostrils. She had smelled it so many times before, in the fresh-tilled earth and the newborn flowers of spring and from
the windows of bakeries and the darkest, deepest libraries.

A wild voice was calling her home. It filled the empty spaces within her and overfilled the calmed, still ones with its
whirling energy.

Theres something differentsomething strange and new inside of me, she said, and moved to look at both Maeve
and the Fae Prince. She could hear it, hear the winds of adventure, of rebellion, tugging at her as the sun continued to
climb. I cant quite describe it, but there are things that I used to want, that I dontthat I cant want anymore, and
things that I never thought that I would desire, but I do. Im just

Her magick was stirring within her blood. She was going home. Home. A grin spread across her face as her heart
began to beat irregularly. Im through with accepting a world made up of someone elses rules, and Im through with
allowing for limitations and guidelines to be set for me, and Im sick of accepting them.

She hadnt felt this way, this wild and free, since the morning of her birthday. Everything was wide open before her;
everything was susceptible for change and revolution. It was hers for the taking.

There are some things that I cannot ever hope to change, she said, her voice growing louder with fervor, but I
know that I must try, or else Ill never know if they are mutable or not. Ive been afraid too long of losing people and
things that I love, and I now realize that theres no point in loving something or somebody if you wont fight for it.

Her blood was on fire. Home. Home!

She looked from one friend to the other, her eyes a glacier blue as her heart pumped more and more magick into her
body. This was her true path. At last, she was going to go home, and no man, palace, or army would stand in her
way.

A wind, joyful and proud, began to whip through her hair. Here, she said, and picked Goldryn up from the ground.
She was trembling, trembling with wild rage and ecstasy, and she could hear the voices of her people again. They
called her home, called her to deliver them from the bonds of slavery, called to her to bring down a tyrant in one
mighty blow.

She handed Goldryn to Raonn. You keep it. I have no use for these things anymore she said, smiling as he stared
open-mouthed at her. He took the sword between his slender hands, and shook his head.

Aelin, Maeve warned.

Im going to try it a different way this time, was all that she said before sparks began to fly from her heels and
fingers.

Aelin! Maeve said, pleading but it was too late.

With a cry of defiance, Celaena Sardothien gathered her healing heart together and lifted from the ground, her face lit
with a feral smile. She pointed to the West, rising higher in the ground. Look for me there! she cried, the wind
blowing so violently that trees bent over to reveal the landscape beyond Doranelle. Lightning flashed, and struck the
stump, splitting it in two. Meiresius was rearing and whinnying loudly, and Raonn let go of his bridle as the horse
charged forward to prance beneath his queen. Everything around her was electrified: sparks of white and blue light
exploded and burst into life around her, and her hair floated like a halo of new gold.

She was going home.

She reached the top of a fir tree and stopped to summon her bag. With one hand raised to the morning sky, she
tipped her head back and emitted, at long last, the battle cry that would soon be heard across endless lines of
marching soldiers.

Down below, Maeve and Raonn stared at her in disbelief, watching as the young queen looked down only once before
shooting off across the morning sky.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

She did not hear Maeves desperate cry for her to come back, nor did she see the tears that spilled upon Raonns face
as she left the clearing. And Maeve, one hand to her heart, could only stare at the empty space in the sky before a
vision rose to her eyes.

She saw Celaena atop a towerno, standing on a glass bridge between two towers a hundred feet in the air,
struggling against the violent wind as her sword was knocked aside by a beast of a man wearing a golden crown.

She tried to swing her sword, but something was wrong: she couldnt fight. Her magick had failed her.

Maeve cried aloud in horror as she saw the girl stagger and fall onto the ground, the sword toppling from the bridge
as the manthe King of Adarlanpointed his own weapon at her heart. He was saying something to her, something
that made her face contract with fury and despair.

He said something again and she screamednot in pain, but in defiance, and then

Maeve gasped for air as her sight returned. Raonn was holding her up, and she looked at the sky. She was gone.
Maeve could not even detect her on the land anymore. She must have boarded her ship.

Are you alright? Raonn asked, releasing her.

Maeve shook her head, her violet eyes wide and fearful.

Its a trap, she whispered, glistening tears falling from her eyes.

A trap? Raonn said, his voice sharp and terrified.

The empty box tumbled from Maeves hand as she continued to stare at the empty Western sky.

Ive let her go to her doom, was all that she said as thunder groaned across the horizon, and Aelin Galathynius, like
her mother before her, set out across the wide sea to find the man she loved.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

HERE ENDS PART II OF QUEEN OF GLASS. PART III CHRONICLES CELAENA SARDOTHIENS RETURN TO
ADARLAN, AND THE FATE THAT AWAITED HER THERE

PART THREE: CHAPTER 1

As Celaena Sardothien stood on the bow of the ship, she still did not know if she was being incredibly stupid or
foolishly smart. The brilliant blue sky offered no ill omen, and the warm spring breeze played in her shorn hair.
Adarlan was now within eyesight.
She had descended from her flight just outside of Port Moselian, ignoring the shocked masses that had walked quickly
away from her, and then used her magick to summon a fog that confused and addled the dockworkers. When the mist
faded, one of their ships, full of supplies, was gone.

She had commandeered the ship, and felt no remorse as she summoned a winda friendly child of the West and
South who claimed to know how to sail a boat on her ownto bring her to Adarlan. She pushed the wind hard, and
the ship soared across the surface of the ocean at an illogical rate. She had no idea what the wind was doing, but it
knew how to adjust the sails, fix the stays, draw in the lines, steer, and do other sailing things that Celaena could not
possibly have done on her own. She crossed hundreds of miles in days, and did not hide her smugness as Adarlans
coastline appeared on the sixth day.

Renaril now loomed before her, and the glass palace sat above the city like a glacier, its turrets and towers long
lances of ice in the blinding midday sun. She stood completely still, watching the approaching city with a face of stone.

She sailed down the Venar River, the estuary on which Renaril lay, but even after weeks of preparing herself for this
moment, she could not help but reach out to clench the wooden railing. From the moment that she had entered the
mouth of the river, she had felt something off, something strange about Adarlan that she had never noticed before. It
wrapped a cold hand around the marrow of her bones, and its grip tightened as they sailed closer and closer to the
bustling port. The wind seemed to be fading, and Celaena, unable to man a ship on her ownor even at allfought
desperately to hold onto her magick. They were still sailing, but barely. With any luck, the wind would make it to the
docks.

She was not going to the palacenot yet anyway. There were things for her to do, things to plan and prepare. She
would not be brought into the castle like a prisoner.

She had her bag slung over her shoulder, and she wore the finest clothes she had: a silver-green tunic with delicate
embroidering around the open neck, a belt made of embossed silver plates, and soft fawn-colored pants. Everything,
including the forest-green velvet cape, had been given to her by Maeve, though her boots were the same ones she
had worn over from Adarlan. Her hair, still as short as it was the night she cut it during her battle with Morghan, was
loose around her face, her usually silky waves were now intermixed with wild curls from the sea air. As she stared
upon the glass palace, she wished that her hair could have looked better, though she had compensated for it with the
cosmetics that she had stolen from the Baroness the night of the ball. If she were somehow caught in the next few
moments, at least she would die pretty.

The map, folded into a small square, had been carefully tucked into the breast of her shirt, along with the amulet of
Evaelien Ashryver. The jade was cool against her hot skin, and it pressed on her chest like a weight.

She was close now.

Well, she would have her magick. Celaena brushed the sweat from her chin, hoping to not ruin the powder she had
put on her face, and gave some of her remaining energy to the wind as they came closer to the shore. She steered
them towards an open dock far at the end of the massive port, hoping that no one would notice a rather large
Wendlynian ship with only one passenger.

The sailors were frantically running about the docks, raising cargo nets and hauling large boxes away and tying and
releasing ropes and doing nautical things that Celaena didnt bother to understand. Peering down at the river beneath
her, she watched as bits of garbage and filth floated out to sea. She glanced up at the city. Adarlan was still as dirty
as ever.

Its odd assortment of buildings, some tall and elegant, some short and shabby, some ancient and crumbling, looked
no different than they had in the winter, though there were a good deal more people in the streets, probably out
enjoying the spring air.

The glass palace, in contrast to the teeming streets, seemed to be stationarya citadel of silent anticipation.

Courage, Aelin.

Somewhere amongst those peaks of glass were the two men that would decide her fate. The other two wereWell,
she didnt know what Aedion and Tiryn were planning, but she hoped that it would be helpful. Her heart was beating
quickly and she turned her gaze to the approaching dock.
Courage for your country.

Her country would come firstDorian later. Once Trasien was free, she would have all the time in the world to

No, you wont. Hes getting married soon, remember?

Celaena readjusted the map of Wendlyn. It made no difference if he were to be married soon or not. She certainly did
not expect a warm welcome from the king once he discovered her identity, but she knew that Dorian would realize
why everything between them had been an absurd misunderstanding. How could he marry another if he knew who
she truly was?

Lines were thrown at the ship from the dock, but Celaena remained still, steering the ship with her magick until it
finally knockedhardagainst the wooden sea wall. The wind, barely detectable, tied the knots for her, and, with a
sigh, dropped the anchor before it faded into the salty air. She watched as the dockhands pulled the ropes in, and
steadied herself as the ship rocked.

There were no soldiers, no one save for the already befuddled dockhands. She would walk off this ship and into
Renaril without detection. She looked back once at the empty deck, and then beyond at the ocean. Wendlyn suddenly
felt very far away.

The ship groaned as its side collided with the stone dock. A strange feelingone outside of her nerveswas coursing
through her. Celaena moved from the railing to use her magick, which was suddenly very weak, to propel the
gangplank over the side of the ship.

It landed against the limestone with a muffled boom, dust flying everywhere for a moment as the dockworkers took a
step back.

Celaena took a deep breath.

Courage.

The sailors stared at her as she stood before the gangway, exchanging nervous glances as she raised her head to look
at the glass palace.

He is just a manthe man who murdered your family. But you have come only to extract your birthrightlet
vengeance wait until Orynth is safe again.

The dust on the shore settled and Celaena took a step forward, the wooden bridge creaking slightly. She felt drained.
There was something strange about the land

She took another step, and then another. The medallion bounced against her chest as she took step after step on the
gangway.

Celaenas foot stepped from the gangplank and onto the ground, and time slowed down as the most horrible sensation
passed through her.

It was as if something frozen and dense swept through her body, filling her veins and mind and heart with its thick,
numbing potion. She felt herself stagger slightly, her knees bending strangely while the ice coursed through her with
merciless speed, and her blue eyes went wide as her second foot fell upon the ground.

With two feet upon the ground, the freezing intensified for a moment before it swept from her, exiting her mouth as
she opened it in a gasp.

It had taken only a few seconds, and to those watching, her stagger had been little more than her sea legs adjusting
to the solid ground. But her eyes momentarily narrowed with worry as she continued to walk forward and far from the
docks, trying to maintain her stature as she felt all of her magick disappear.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O
Chaol Wydrael stared out the window from where he lay on the couch, watching the glass palace. He could see
nothing of use, but he could not drag himself away. It had been a week and a half since the ball, and no news had
come from Wendlyn about the royal familys death. He was looking for any sign, any indication that it hador had not
happened.

Chaol glanced at Thaelius, who was reading a book in a large armchair a few feet away from him. The Fae Prince had
agreed with Chaols reasoning that Aedion would be able to protect Aelin Galathynius well enough to manage an
escape. With an army of fiercely loyal soldiers behind him, even the King of Adarlan would think twice about chasing
after them. And so Thaelius had not contacted her, but instead chose to throw himself into her enormous collection of
books. He asked Chaol what her favorites were, and the Captain of the Guard had willingly picked out a few,
explaining briefly why she was so fond of them.

As strange as it was to think of Aelin as betrothed, he found that Thaelius was a good man, whom he liked and
respected. He was smart, and seemed to be more than capable of handling a sword. One day, when Arobynn had left
them to attend to his own business, Chaol had shown his new companion the weapons room that Celaena had
concealed behind her bedroom closet. Thaelius had been fascinated by the assortment, and had even taken down a
few of her swords to examine and flick through the air. They were not the delicate swords that they used in the
palace, made primarily for thrusting around in duels, but rather real swords, made for battle. He wondered why, as an
assassin, Celaena had chosen these over the highly effective rapier, but as he watched Thaelius parry and thrust in
the air with ease, he understood that they were perhaps just as useful.

Thaelius seemed to be already in love with Aelin, and while Chaol was slightly disturbed that the prince had last seen
her as a child, he found his adoration and loyalty to be endearing. He constantly asked Chaol questions about her:
what food she preferred, what style of dress did she wear, what her favorite color was, what was her height, was she
pretty, did she have any strange deformities from slavery or her years as an assassin, what was her laugh like, if she
liked the theater, if she liked the city or the countryThe list went on and on.

Chaol didnt mind answering these questions, especially as the city began preparations for Dorians wedding. Over five
hundred guests had been invited, and artisans were already working around the clock to complete the ridiculous
orders asked of them. Whenever Chaol remarked on the state of the frantic city, Thaelius merely shrugged his
shoulders and replied that, in Trasien, their weddings were not public displays of debauchery.

What Chaol really admired about Thaelius, aside from his growing obsession with Aelin and his occasional moments of
condescension, was that he could cook. Arobynn had failed to send for one, but thankfully Thaelius was proficient
enough in the art that every meal was both hot and delicious. Whenever he inquired as to how and why Thaelius knew
how to cook, the Fae only told him one of two things: he spent a lot of time hunting and living on his own, and that
women found a man who could cook to be extremely attractive.

Chaol looked at the clock. It was barely past noon. Thaelius stood, putting his book down on the couch, and jerked his
chin towards the kitchen, indicating that he was going to prepare lunch. Chaol merely nodded as the Fae Prince
disappeared to another room, and picked up his book, nestling himself down into the cushions of the couch.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien walked up the rickety wooden steps of the warehouse, fighting the nauseating combination of
nerves and old memories. Cobwebs hung from the rafters, and the stairs were dusty, save for the single trail where
shoesmale shoeshad trodden. The air was thick and clogged her nostrils with its musky odor. If it were not for the
footprints, one would never guess that someone lived upstairs.

Her magick was gone. She couldnt feel it anywhere in her body. She had hurried from the docks, ignoring the
confused sailors, and had vanished into the streets of Renaril before anyone could do anything about the ship that had
been leftwithout payingat the docks. She headed south, her heart pounding wildly as faces passed by in a blur.
How could her magick be gone? She fought to control her fear, but soon nerves about seeing her friend once again
rose to the foremost part of her conscience.

Celaena put a hand on the railing as the stair gave a creak. With any luck, Chaol would be here to

She closed her eyes, trying to slow her heartbeat. Did Chaol know about magickher magick? Or did he still think her
just Adarlans assassin?
Celaena leaned against the wall, barely able to breathe. Coming home was harder than she had thought it would be.
For all of her bravado, she still could not find any easy way to tell her friend who she wasor, more importantly, why
she had returned to Adarlan a month ahead of schedule, and on an enchanted ship.

She put a hand on her heart and pushed hard, waiting for a moment before she opened her eyes. Perhaps he would
pity her more if she fainted or worsevomited.

She resumed her course, reaching the final set of stairs. A wooden door, painted silver green with only a golden
handle for decoration, stood at the top of the stairs, becoming larger and clearer with every step. Her legs were
moving too fast; time was flying at a fast pace.

Perhaps she should have gone back the way that Adarlans king had demanded.

She was in front of the apartment doorher apartment doorbefore she would have liked, and she stared at it for a
moment. She had not been here in three years. How much of her pastdespite how she had tried to hide ithad
Chaol uncovered through his residency?

She winced as her hand touched the cold metal handle of the door.

Gods above, hes your friend! If hes here, then hes still on your side, not with

Her chest tightened as she thought about Dorian. She loved him, though she did not know if someone in love could
remain that way when they were now on opposite sides of a political battle.

She quickly threw aside those disturbing thoughts and pushed down on the handle, the door silently opening. It was
foolish of Chaol to leave the door unlocked.

Celaena immediately tensed. What if something had happened? She glanced back at the staircase as she stood in the
doorway. The dust did not reveal a large party of soldiers, but it also suggested that perhaps one person was all it
took.

She turned her head back to the apartment, the door now wide open, and her breath lodged itself in her throat as she
saw a brown-haired head raise itself from the couch and heard the sound of a book crashing to the floor.

His malachite-colored eyes immediately widened and his face, tan and handsome, contracted in surprise. Celaena
found that she could not move as Chaol leapt to his feet and rushed towards her, stopping only a few feet away.
Memories were beating down on her head, and as his smooth face broke into a smile, she could not help but let her
eyes dampen at seeing a friendly face.

She would tell him, and he would understand, and help her figure out why her magick was suddenly gone.

They stared at each other, Celaenas nostrils flaring slightly as she sought to keep her emotions in check. He had a bit
of stubble on his cheek that became himit made him look older, more mature, more kingly. He wore casual clothes,
and Celaena realized that this was the first time she had seen him without his uniform on.

That is, except for that night when you

Celaena gave a small, self-conscious smile, suddenly aware of how short and light her hair was, how many freckles
were now on her face, and how odd she must appear in her Fae-made clothes. She glanced down at herself, flushing,
before she looked back at him. His smile had faded, and, for a moment, she caught a look of nervousness dart across
his face.

You look beautiful, Chaol said, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper. His green eyes shone with something that
she did not yet understand, and there was a solemnity to his voice that struck her as quite odd.

But, for some reason, this was exactly what Celaena had needed to hear. Her sack had barely dropped to the ground
before she flung herself into Chaols arms, squeezing him tightly. He smelled of her lilac and ginger soaps, and his
chest was strong and warm against hers. Had she been foolish to get him involved in this struggle? He was the
Captain of the Guardand he was living in herher apartment!
She released him and looked into his face. Chaol, she began, not quite sure of what she planned to say next, but he
cut her off.

You look so different, I Chaol stumbled over his words and shook his head. I mean, you were beautiful before,
but now, Aelin, you look like

What? Celaena said, not sure if she had heard correctly. Her face was burning, and a slight shudder passed through
her. What did you say? Her mouth was hanging slightly open, and her eyes were full of confusion.

Chaol appeared to not have understood either. I said that you were beautiful, but

No. Celaena took a steadying breath. How had hehow did he? What, she began, her voice soft, what did you
call me? Her arms were tingling.

Chaol stared at her, his face full of worry, before it quickly turned into a slight smile. Aelin, he replied, his voice
clear and strong. Celaena opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

There was a crash in the kitchen, and Celaena gave a slight gasp as a few more crashes were heard. Chaol turned
around, looking towards the kitchen door, and Celaena moved to the left so she could better her vision.

He emerged from the kitchen just as she remembered him: tall, strong, mysterious, and beautifulfar more beautiful
than any man she had seen beforeto behold. Her heart was beating at odd increments, and the air in her chest felt
like ice as her mind wrapped itself around a name.

Thaelius, she whispered as he slowly walked towards them. What was he doing here? Is this how Chaolhow he

She then remembered the dream she had with him, how she had told him to go to Arobynn, to find him. Arobynn
must have assumed that he and Chaol were a part of the same group and brought him here. How could she have
forgotten?

Everything felt a bit sharper as he approached, stopping beside Chaol. He hadnt aged a day. But she hadshe was a
woman now, and could not hope to match his physical perfection. For the first time in months, she remembered the
few fine white lines that still lay on her back.

He must know. Chaol or Arobynn must have told him.

His gray eyes were full of light as he looked at her. She was surprised at how much they resembled Raonns, and how
they were filled with not just awe and fear, but also an emotion that she had not hoped to find from her broken
family.

Hello, Aelin, he said, his voice just as she had remembered it, though this time it sent slight shivers down her spine.

Hello, she replied, her voice just a whisper, her words barely more than a gush of air. She could hear hooves, hear
the screams of her servants, and she could feel the cold, sticky blood of her parents on her body. She closed her eyes,
not to keep control, but rather to embrace the feelings of terror and relief running through her. Hehe was still alive,
still breathing. It was a dream. It was just another dream. She opened her eyes. He was still standing before her.

She had no idea what to say to either of them. What sort of apologies could she offer to these men for concealing part
of her identity?

Youre just as I imagined you would be, Thaelius said with a tenderness that surprised her. Still, she smiled, and
looked at Chaol.

Isis this, she jerked her head at her surrounding apartment, to your liking? It was an awkward question, and her
voice was just as uncomfortable.

Chaol gave a half-smile and nodded. Yes, he said. He knew that the question was more than what it seemed, and
she smiled gratefully at him before turning back to Thaelius. She still did not know what to say to him.
The Fae man gave her an understanding smile. Dont be alarmed if you find that you have little to say to me. He
walked the few steps towards her and stood so close that she could smell his wonderful, youthful Fae scent. Its been
fifteen years, his voice dropped to a softer level, and he lightly stroked her cheek. Not the fond, familiar stroke of an
old friend or a family member, but a stroke that was softer, more personalmore sensual. Both of us have greatly
changed, he finished, his hand grazing across her neck before he removed it entirely.

Her face was red, but she could not tear her eyes away from his, even though she knew that Chaol was still standing
near them. He was her betrothed, and it seemed that he had not forgotten.

You and I will talk later, he said to her before stepping away. Celaena, her face still red, looked suddenly at Chaol.

Chaol, Im

Come, Chaol said, and took her by the arm. We should close this door before we say any more. He gently closed it
as he escorted her towards the fireplace.

Perhaps you should lock it this time, she said coyly, and batted her eyelashes. Both Chaol and Thaelius snorted in a
way that Celaena could only interpret as a tribute to masculine pride. As they walked by the large mirror on the wall,
Celaena subtly turned her head to steal a glance. She fought a scowl as she viewed her wild hair, but was slightly
pleased to see how pretty her face looked with the cosmetics, and how much her hours of training had paid off.

She took a seat on the end of the couch, not failing to notice how Chaol took the seat beside her, and Thaelius,
sensing that the Captain of the Guard was in no mood to see or hear the Fae Princes amorous advances, took the
chair to the left.

Celaena shifted in her seat and looked at Chaol. Im sorry that I never told you, she said bluntly. It was so strange
to see him and Thaelius in the same room! How quickly things had changed in a few months!

No, Chaol said, shaking his head. He let out a chuckle. If I had that kind of a secret to guard, I wouldnt have told
anyone, even my closest friends.

She nodded her head.

But it seems that youve come to terms with it, so perhaps others have been told already.

Painful, heartsick memories of her friends in Wendlyn arose, and she smiled. Yes, she said, her voice strained, my
friends in Wendlyn all know.

And it seems that all of Wendlyn and Adarlan now know that you defeated Gmord in that little town--Peregrinno.

Celaena shook her head, and looked at Thaelius, who was smiling smugly, though the blatant awe had still not left his
eyes. She turned back to Chaol, II had a lot of help.

It was you who set the Opal Tower ablaze wasnt it? Chaol asked, and Celaena meekly nodded her head.

I was she stopped and looked at the two men. Was their acceptance too easy? Things were still slightly awkward,
but wasnt this too pleasant, too idyllic? Could it all just be a dream?

Aelin? Chaol asked, and her hand latched onto his arm as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

You, she said, and opened her eyes, cannot possibly ever know how lovely it is to hear my name from your lips.
She smiled at him, and, suddenly aware of her touch, removed her hand from his arm.

If youll so indulge us, Thaelius said, crossing his legs. He had not changed at all. It would be pleasant to hear of
your experiences in Wendlyn these past few months and why, exactly, you are here almost a month before your
expected date of return.

There it was. That sarcastic, slightly condescending, smooth drawl that she had loved so dearly as a child. She was
home, or as close to home as she could get at the moment. She looked around her old apartment, reveling in the
differences between herself and the shadow of her past. On the night she had been caught, she had left this house as
an assassinnow, three years later, she had entered into it again as a queen, or perhaps just someone between those
two realms.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Thaelius Glorwynn could not stop staring at her. She was here, not a few feet away from him, looking as lovely and
strong as he had dreamed she would be. When he had heard Chaol speaking to a female voice he began to
eavesdrop, wiping the remnants of potatoes off of his sharp knife before moving onto chopping the scallions. But then
he heard it, the name that made his heart leap into his throat and nearly drop the knife into his foot as he frantically
crashed into the stove, blowing out the fire. He knocked several pots and pans to the floor in his attempt to calm
himself. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt less like a Fae Prince and more like a bumbling human idiot.

He took several deep breaths, fanning himself with his hands, and wished that he were not wearing such worn clothes
as he stepped from the kitchen and into the living room. Her hair was short and curled in odd ways that only
suggested that she had been in a sea wind.

Now, listening to her outrageous stories about Wendlyn, Thaelius could still not find himself able to calm his frantic
heart. He hadnt meant to caress her cheek, but he could not stop himself as instinct and his granted right to have her
at last kicked in. There seemed to be eons between this glowing woman and the mischievous child of Orynth, and with
each passing moment, he felt the gap grow larger.

He frequently found himself clenching his jaw, and yelled at himself repeatedly to calm down. This was her. Adarlans
assassin and Trasiens Queen. He could already picture the Crown of Orynth upon her head, sitting in the great throne
that her uncle had once occupied.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her close to him, smell her and taste her, anything to reassure him that
this was indeed her, and not some vision out of his tortured heart. After spending so many hours of dreaming of what
might have been, so many hours imagining her, wishing for her, praying that she was still alive, somewhere, he still
could not believe what he was seeing. She was not only alive, but triumphant! A hero resurrected from ages long
since past!

Watching her speak, watching her laugh at her follies and victories and fall silent and solemn as she recalled the
horrors and difficulties, Thaelius realized that there was fifteen years of nothing between them. Fifteen years with no
communication, no hope of ever seeing each other again.

He knew that she was nervous around him, and wondered if she noticed the anxiety that was eating away at him, and
began to fervently wish that Chaol Wydrael, whom he had come to respect and enjoy, would give them a moment
alone. He wanted to tell her everything in his heart, tell her about the fifteen years of solitude, tell her how the court
had been destroyed and how many of them had tried to find her and died in the process, how many of them still lived
and believed that she should be on the throne, how many of them would dieand were currently dyingin order to
fulfill that dream.

But most importantly he wanted to tell her that if her heart was elsewhere, she need not follow her parents betrothal,
though he knew, from the moment he had seen her and she had whispered his name, that he loved her, and there
would be no other for him so long as he drew breath.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Dorian DeHavilliard leaned against the wooden rail of the racetrack, his blue-black hair finely cut and shining in the
midday sun. There was a rush of color and sound as the dogs flew past, following the dangling rabbit. His prize dog,
Volo, was racing, and, at the moment, was not doing too well. He had dropped to the middle of the pack, and though
he was only two years old, the obsidian dog was slowing with every lap. Dorian glanced down at Fleetfoot, who was
lying patiently at his feet, and then looked back at the stadium around him. It was empty, save for the dog owners,
and Dorian was grateful. Public humiliation would not do.

Nicolle, dressed in daffodil yellow and nestled beneath a matching parasol, looked beautiful as she gave a friendly
wave to him. She was sitting on a bench not twenty feet from the fence, her interest in Dorians sport only going so
far as the end of the stone floor. She had protested that her saffron-dyed silk shoes would be ruined in the dirt, and
so she had merely sat for the past half hour, smiling constantly at Dorian and doing what she did best: looking pretty.

No news had yet come from Wendlyn, and Dorian was getting nervous. Who would his father kill if Celaena failed?
Would it be the young Prince of Eyputiusunn, or perhaps he would hunt down Chaol and murder him in her
apartment? He would know thenhis father would somehow find out how close Dorian had come to committing high
treason.

Dorian looked back at his exhausted dog. The race had been won by a noble, his friend Benau. He had rekindled his
friendship with the young man, whose family had once ruled Mecherta, but he still found that there was little to say
between them, except about hunting, sporting, and women. Benau did not read books, nor did he know Celaena
Sardothien, and Dorian found the youth to be a poor second to Chaols company. He desperately wanted to go to the
apartment and see his friend, but Dorian knew that his steps were closely followed. Besides, he was still not entirely
certain whose side Chaol was onor how intimately he was involved with Celaena.

Aelin.

Benau came sweeping towards them, his sleek fawn-colored dog, Byndin, following behind. Benaus other dog had
won the race, but Byndin, long retired, still remained his constant companion.

Good day, Prince, Benau said, nodding his head at Dorian. The brown-haired youth turned and bowed to Nicolle
before turning back to Dorian. Excellent race, was it not? Though I must say that your Volo looks like he could use a
replacement sooner rather than later. Benau laughed, and Dorian forced a smile. What about this one, hmm?
Benau jerked his head down at Fleetfoot, who was happily sitting at Dorians feet, ignorant of Byndins prying nose.

She looks like she could run fast, though Im not sure about putting a bitch in the ring.

Fleetfoot let out a huff and looked upwards, her brown eyes saying everything that Dorian could not.

Shes too good of a dog to be put into the ring, Dorian said, trying not to sound as irritated as he felt. He did not like
losing, especially to his peers. Racing would spoil her morale.

Ah, Benau said, and chuckled, though he clearly did not find Dorian to be amusing. Benau was not handsome,
though he was fit and muscular. You always have such a tender heart for the females, even if some of them are
bitches.

Dorian let out a genuine laugh, and shook his head. Fleetfoot rose to her feet and trotted away, going straight past
Nicolle, despite the ladys attempt to pet her. Fleetfoot showed no interest in the woman, and occasionally let Nicolle
pet her, but only for a moment before she stalked away or found Dorians side.

Benau rubbed his hands together and let out a breath through his teeth. Shall we dine tonight? Or do you have other
plans? Benau grinned at Dorian, and the prince looked back at Nicolle, who waved again. He would not bed her,
though he did kiss her, and he was grateful that she had never pushed the subject with him. All around them
preparations were being made for their wedding, which was to be held in three weeks. He could not help but feel
uncomfortable whenever he was asked about some flower or color arrangement, especially so when he went into the
streets of Renaril.

A ring sat on Nicolles finger that he had not intended to give, and soon a ring would be on his that he did not want.
With each beat, his heart told him that he was making a mistake, and he did not forget the pledge of undying love
that he had made to another long ago. He could not tell whom he hated more: himself or Celaena. He hated himself
for tumbling deep into the abyss of what he had believed to be true love, and he hated her for so utterly deceiving
and using him for her own selfish reasons. But he still could not remove her from his thoughts, Queen of Trasien or
not, and there were nights when he wished and prayed before falling asleep that he would again find himself in a
golden wood.

Ill meet you in the Great Hall around six oclock, Dorian said. And, no: there are no other plans, he added, though
he felt foolish for saying it. By now everyone had forgotten his month-long hermitical episode, and could only see the
bed-hopping, heart-breaking young prince that they had known their whole lives. Benau merely smiled, and winked
roguishly at Dorian before walking away.

Nicolle waited for Dorian to return to the stone walkway before standing. She was almost as tall as he, and while he
did not find her height to be a deterrent, he knew that there was a height, almost four inches beneath him, that he
preferred.
Youre dining with Benau? Nicolle asked, batting her dark lashes. Thats the fourth time this week! she frowned
playfully. When will I have you to myself again? I enjoy eating with your mother, but Im afraid that Ive lost interest
in the exact shade that the roses should be at the wedding.

Dorian smiled at her, and offered his arm as they began to walk from the stadium towards the carriage that awaited
them. Fleetfoot quit her wandering and chased after them, choosing to walk beside Dorian.

There were nights where he could not sleep because of the crushing terror that pushed down upon his chest. He
would wake up unable to breathe and would rush out onto his balcony for fresh air. Beneath the liquid smoothness of
the night sky, he felt small, wonderfully small and insignificant. Despite the chilled spring nights, he would often stay
outside for hours just watching the stars slowly make their way across the sky as the world rolled under them.

He thought of Celaena often then, of her magnificent hair and lovely ivory skin, and wondered if she too was looking
at the same sky, perhaps also thinking of him. If she had indeed loved him, there would be little he could do to ever
repair the damage he had caused. A part of him knew that she hadnt been insincere, but so long as she had never
said the words that Nicolle so freely had given to him, he could not know.

Dorian? Nicolle asked, squeezing his arm slightly.

How could he marry this woman? How could he bring himself to bed her, to have children by her, to live out the rest
of his life at her side?

Im sorry, I was lost in thought, Dorian muttered and looked at the exit from the arena.

IIve been meaning to speak with you about this for some time, Dorian, Nicolle said, and stopped.

Hmm? Dorian asked, raising his brows. She had sporadic moments of temper, which often took him off guard. As he
was hoping to avoid her fury, he smiled at her.

Theres always this look in your eyes, Dorian, Nicolle said, glancing at the ground. A hint of sadness that I dont
understand.

Youre inventing things

I am not inventing things! she snapped at him, and then regained composure. What I mean isI mean to say
thatif youre not happy with me, then perhaps

Im perfectly happy with you, Nicolle, Dorian said a bit more coolly than he would have liked and looked at the
ground.

Is there another woman perhaps?

Nicolle, I think you know that there is not a

That ladyLithaen Gordaina.

Dorians head snapped in her direction so quickly that he gave himself away.

Nicolle nodded her head. Ive heard your motherand otherstalk about her.

Damn! Damn! Damn! Think of a way out of this before you ruin everything!

You were in love with her, werent you? And she left and broke your heart.

Dorian stared at the tan-skinned woman before him, and glanced into the endless dark of her eyes, and swallowed
hard.

I do not pretend to ignore the swiftness with which this marriage has occurred, Nicolle said quietly. I do have
genuine feelings for you, and I am happier than you can ever know to be your wife, but if you have feelings for
another woman, if you still love the Lady Lithaen, then I wish to know so I dont spend my time worrying that the
sadness I see in your eyes is because of something that I have done wrong.

Dorian cleared his throat. She was smart enough to know when he was lying, but a little embellishment would go
undetected. I did love the Lady Lithaen, but now she is married to another and there is little there I can do to make
her my Queen. I loved her more than I have ever loved a woman, more perhaps than my own life, but I am trying to
recover. He took her hand in his own, surprised at the pity he felt for Nicolle, and looked into the absorbing blackness
of her eyes. I do care for you, Nicolle, and I enjoy your company more than any woman in Court, and I, Dorian
swallowed, I am verypleased that you will be my wife and queen someday.

Nicolle resumed walking again, and Dorian glanced at the footmen as they opened up the carriage door. Do you still
write to her? she asked.

Dorian shook his head. After she left Adarlan, there was an agreement that no communication was to be had.

Nicolle stepped into the carriage, and Fleetfoot leapt in, settling herself on the floor.

Did she love you? Nicolle asked, staring out the window as they began to move.

Dorian looked at Nicolle, whose acceptance startled him, and answered honestly. I dont know, he said. She never
said so, but she did not reject my advances.

Did she know that she had an arranged marriage before she met you?

Nicolle still would not look at him, but her voice was strong.

Yes, Dorian said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. She failed to tell me until the last moment, when I
heard it from another.

Nicolle turned to look at him. She never told you?

No, nor did her friends, which included Chaol.

She betrayed you, Nicolle said. How did it end?

Dorian snorted and rubbed his boot against Fleetfoots spine. I cut her off before she could destroy my heart any
further. I never told her why I could not love her anymore, I simply pretended like there was another and told her to
leave.

Well, Im sure she deserved such harsh treatment after the way she treated you.

Dorian stared at his fiance, and then out at the window at the approaching glass palace. His heart gave an ache. Im
not so sure, Dorian said, still ignorant of the fact that Lithaen Gordaina was less than three miles from his home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol Wydrael let out a deep breath as Celaena Sardothien finished her long account of her adventures in Wendlyn.
He had clenched his hands when she had told of the Battle of Peregrinno, laughed at her encounters with the faeries,
broke into a nervous sweat when she spoke of her Trial, especially about Morghan, and the Valg, and he wasnt
entirely sure if he liked the Raonn character that occupied much of her story. Nonetheless, when she concluded, Chaol
could not help but look at her with different eyes. Not only was she a queen, but she was also a great hero!

Wendlyn, Chaol said at last, for Thaelius seemed too awestruck to be able to say anything, certainly seems to be a
magickal place.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled broadly. Oh, it is! You cannot possibly know, Chaolit was like being in a dream, or a
hundred or so years back in time when things were purer and mysterious. There is a spirit to the entire country that
overwhelms you! Her face, tanned and freckled, shone, and her eyes sparkled so brightly that the golden ring in the
center leaked out in tiny rivers across the azure surface. He liked her short hair, though the cause of the drastic
change still terrified him. He could not imagine facing down a Swamp Witch, let alone wielding a magick sword.
He had not remembered her being so happy at the palace, or so at peace with herself. She had changed both
internally and externally, and he could not help but wonder how much of the woman that Dorian DeHavilliard had
fallen in love with still remained.

So youre now Aelin the Great, I suppose? Thaelius asked at last, and she turned her head to look at him, her curled
and shimmering locks flying around her face. Chaol was now certain that he liked Aelin Galathynius far better than
Celaena Sardothien.

Who wouldnt like someone who could fly? Gods above!

She laughed, though Chaol could still sense that she was not yet at ease with her betrothed. Chaol did not deny that
he immensely disapproved of Thaelius intimate gesture upon her arrival, and he wondered what tonights sleeping
arrangements would turn out to be. She had not mentioned Dorian, probably out of the awkwardness that would arise
with Thaelius, but Chaol planned to ask her laterwhen they were alone. If they were ever alone. Thaelius had lost
her for fifteen years, and Chaol was certain that, if he were in the Fae Princes situation, he wouldnt be able to bear a
minute away from her.

Getting used to hearing Aelin, is hard enough, she replied, and looked back to Chaol. It might take another fifteen
years for me to be able to hear The Great attached to my name.

He was immensely proud of her, and he couldnt deny the feeling that her many triumphs were also his. He could see
her, in his minds eye, wielding the glowing sword of Goldryn against the Satyr, he could see her flying through the
ancient trees of Doranelle, and he could see her at the ball, dressed as a queen, dancing with the handsome and kind
Prince Galan Ashryver. Chaol knew that there were many things that she had not told them regarding Dorian, but he
knew that she would inform him of everything. She had to.

I dont mean to ruin our celebration of your triumph in Wendlyn, Thaelius continued, but an explanation of why you
are here a month early would be useful.

Celaena bit down on her lip and frowned. I commandeered a ship, used the wind to get me here in little over a week,
and then docked just a few hours ago and came here.

Thaelius clicked his tongue. Yes, youve told us that already, Aelin, he said in a tone that made Chaol easily picture
him scolding her as a child.

She blushed and ran a hand through her hair. Well, I thought that perhaps it would be better to come back here and
figure things outa plan of action, I guessinstead of letting myself be put into irons and dragged into the castle.

Thaelius nodded, and Celaena looked to Chaol. There was a hint of sorrow in them now that only meant one thing:
Dorian had betrayed her. One of her primary defenses was now gone. Chaol opened his mouth to speak, suddenly
furious, but she only nodded slightly. That was not a conversation for Thaelius ears. In the weeks that they had been
together, Chaol had come to notice that Thaelius took little or no interest in Dorian, save for the occasional
opportunity to insult him. Clearly, the Fae Prince did not regard Dorian DeHavilliard as a threat, and so long as Aelin
had made no suggestion that she loved him in return, she still belonged to one man only: Thaelius Glorwynn. This
irked Chaol more than he would have liked, and he had often wondered what this moment would be likehow would
she react to him?

So far, it seemed that she was more nervous than anything, and as she had not immediately rushed into his arms and
declared her undying love for him, Chaol could only assume that she felt nostalgic affection for him and nothing more.
Chaol bit down on his tongue. If Thaelius intended to pursue her against her wisheswell, he was going to find that he
had not only the Captain of the Guard, but perhaps whatever remained of Adarlans assassin against him. And if she
gave any indication that Thaelius had tried to do any

Dont get ahead of yourself.

Chaol realized that his hands were clenched in painful fists, and gave Celaena a weak smile. He liked Thaelius, and he
did not enjoy the feeling of suddenly having placed himself between the Fae and his would-be bride.

So what do you plan to do at the momentand when the time arrives for you to go to the castle? You said that you
dont have anything to use against himhow do you suppose that youll escape with your life? As much as he
enjoyed seeing her againbefore anyone else could see herhe did not like that she was here against the kings
orders, and with nothing to use as leverage. She hadnt even a naval map to show the King of Adarlan. He would flay
her alive.

IllWell, thats why I came here, she said. I need to figure that out. How will I get into the palace and survive?

Thaelius suddenly looked very serious, almost scared.

Aelin, he said softly, and she turned to him. Where is your magick?

The color drained from her face, and she glanced from one man to another. I She looked ashamed, embarrassed,
and frightened. Chaol gently touched her arm.

Its gone, she suddenly moaned, and, in a swift change of mood and expression, she put her head between her
knees and held it in her calloused hands. She took several deep breaths, and Chaol immediately moved closer to her,
putting a hand on her back.

Aelin, he said, leaning down towards her face after giving Thaelius an irritated look. Aelin, its nothing to get

Oh, it is! she groaned. How can I face him without any magick to protect me? She raised her head, on the verge
of tears. Where did it go? she looked at Thaelius, her voice laced with panic. Why dont I have it?

Chaol looked down at her hands and noticed that they were shaking. How long had she been trying to keep herself
together while she had told them the story of her time in Wendlyn? Chaols arm extended itself and wrapped around
her shoulder. To his surprise, she leaned into his chest, still looking at Thaelius.

Chaol stared down at her. Was he now to be used as a tool for some sort of lovers quarrel, or did she really have no
interest in Thaelius advances?

I dont know, Thaelius admitted, and Chaol began to ponder just how awkward things would become in this
apartment with one woman and two males, one of whom had already

Dont bring that up. Ever.

He hated to admit that he could not stop thinking about that night, especially now that she was here in front of him
again, more lovely and confident than he remembered.

I can still switch my forms, Thaelius said, shaking his head. But everything else doesnt work.

Dorians magick works, Chaol said bluntly. He almost blew apart his bedroom and his fathers throne room.

Celaena sniffed. Thats exactly what makes me wonder: what exactly did the king do in order to make magick stop
working on the continent? I mean, thats how Raonns parents were murdered. The soldiers arrived and there was
nothing for them to do to defend themselves. Raonn told me that if the Fae had full use of their powers, there would
have been armies meeting Adarlan at every battlefield. But they had no magick, so they were all butchered or forced
to flee.

She removed herself from Chaols arm and looked him straight in the eye. Youve lived in the palace for close to the
entirety of your life and worked as the Captain of the GuardDid you ever hear anything about magick?

Chaol shook his head. It was bannedits illegal to speak of it, to use itif you have any powers remainingand the
king never said a word about it in front of me.

My parents would have known if an intruder was in the house that night. They had magickal barriers around the
place. Old magick. Galathynius and Ashryver magick. There was no way a DeHavilliard could have overridden those
barriers with their powers. It would have taken a complete malfunction of magick in order for my familys magick to
fail: everythingevery bit of magick in the world would have to stop.

She bit on her lip, slowly returning to her senses. My father was a great hunter and hero: he would have awoken to
any noises, and my mother would have awoken to the sound of him dying. There was no way that Perringtonn could
have broken into my house without my parents knowing, unless he still had the DeHavilliard magickal abilities.
Chaol shook his head. That makes sense, but why destroy all the magick on the continent in order to murder one
family?

Celaena looked at Thaelius, whose face was a mix of anger and interest.

How better to further your control over a country than to take away magick? Without magick, people have to rely on
more mortal modes of production. Thaelius smiled grimly. Modes of production which only Adarlan could provide. It
was a genius plan. Perfect from its inception.

Yes, Chaol said, but how can you do that? How can you make all magick just disappear without a trace?

Both Celaena and Thaelius frowned. I dont know, they said almost in unison. Celaena looked at the Fae Prince and
blushed again. Was there any interest?

He needed a break. Chaol looked at the clock. It was nearing three and he had not eaten since sunrise. Im starving,
he said, patting his stomach. Lets find something to eat, shall we?

But what about the magick? Celaena asked, her brows knotting in worry. Chaol stood, and helped her to rise. He
faced her, closer perhaps than friends should have stood. Well solve this riddle soon, he said gently, putting a hand
on her shoulder. For now, the only things that really matter to me are eating something and keeping you safe from
harm.

Thaelius was watching them with curiosity, but Chaol realized that he did not care too much about what the Fae Prince
thought about their relationship. If he disapproved of Aelin Galathynius associating with any other men, then he could
bring it up with the Captain of the Guard.

Im perfectly able to care for myself, she said, half-joking. After all, I slew a

Chaol rolled his eyes and put an arm around her shoulder as they walked towards the kitchen. Three Valg, one
Swamp Witch, a Draied, quickmire, a wicked forest, General Gmord, and almost all of Adarlans navy. He laughed.
Im glad to see that your ego hasnt changed all that much in the past months.

She stuck out her tongue at him, but laughed. There was joy in her face that had long been missing, and for a
moment, just a brief moment, Chaol doubted if he had made the right choice.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Aedion Ashryver sat in his chambers, reading over the latest revolution pamphlet from Trasien. They were already
being gathered and burned, but he had managed to get his hands on a copy before anyone could notice. According to
the paper, the Opal Tower was still shining, and there were rumors that an army was gathering in the name of Aelin
Galathynius. Only a few weeks remained before her counterpart, Celaena Sardothien, was expected back in Adarlan,
and the General found himself growing more anxious by the day. It required all of his self-control to keep from
spitting in the kings face and walking out the castle gates to return to Trasien, but Tiryn continued to remind him that
once she was in the palace, there was no one that could protect her except for him.

That was now his primary mission in life: protect. She had escaped the kings wrath once, and he was not about to
lose her when the world needed her most. She was grown now, and an assassin at that. Aedion remembered her well,
and if she were anything like the girl she had been fifteen years ago, she would not be content to sit in the back and
give commands. He could only imagine how she would appear leading at the front of her armies. He did not yet know
if he would allow her to ride beside him, but Aedion took some comfort in knowing that his younger cousin was more
than capable of taking care of herself.

He stood and walked to the window, looking down at the courtyard below. A large delivery of white and gold banners
was being carried by at least a dozen men, undoubtedly heading for the hall in which the wedding was to take place.

Aedion rolled his eyes. If he had disliked Dorian DeHavilliard before, he certainly hated him now. Once his father was
out of the way, Aedion planned on destroying the youth as well. He had betrayed the Queen of Trasien, Aedions kin
and savior, and there was no chance of redemption.

Aedion looked at his broadsword, which hung from his chair. Would she prefer to kill him herself, or would she find the
matter too personal? Aedion snorted. It made no difference, so long as the princeling wound up dead.
There was a knock on his door, and Aedion rose. He was supposed to be in a meeting right now, but he had thought it
to be a waste of his time. Hopefully this was not a frantic page from the king.

Aedion cracked his neck before opening the door, and was more than a bit surprised when he found eight soldiers
standing before him. He did not recognize any of them as his men, and it was only when he saw the nervous gleam in
one of their eyes that he began to worry.

The soldier closest to the door unrolled a scroll and read in a loud voice the words that Aedion had waited months to
hear: By order of His Highness, the King of Adarlan, you, Aedion Ashryver, are under arrest for conspiracy and high
treason.

PART THREE: CHAPTER 2

Celaena Sardothien sat at the kitchen table watching Thaelius fry a mixture of eggs, potatoes, scallions, and some
spices that she kept in her cupboard, but had never used. Everything in her kitchen had been for show, though now
that she had spent the past few months working in one, the stove and utensils did not look so intimidating. In fact,
she remarked as she looked at the many pots and pans and dishes, it made her rather sad and quiet. She had no
paestia, nor did she know where to find any, and there was something open and cold about sitting in a clean, perfect
kitchen.

She missed the dirt and mess and earthy smells of the chateau, the humming of Leighanna, Lucas often useless
comments, Stephaenyas gentle, yet sharp chopping, and even the ridiculous half-door, which she had never been
able to figure out. Sitting here, in her tiled and sparkling kitchen, she felt worlds away from the country and friends
that she so loved, and as she watched her new Fae companion, as beautiful as he was, she could only think of another
Fae Prince who was never far from her mind.

She was homesick for a place that she had never called home until it was too late, and she wondered if her friends
still thought of her, though they were thousands of miles away. Had Cindrillion and Galan fallen in love, or had her
matchmaking turned out to be a disaster? Had Luca and Stephaenya been incorporated into court life, and just how
much was Raal Hynter helping them?

What was Raonn doing now that she was gone? She had not forgotten his words to her the night before she left, and
she wondered if he still meant them now that she was out of sight. She missed him above all, for who else had known
of her entire experience? He and Maeve had broken her and put her back together again, and despite her current
company, Celaena would have given an arm and a leg to once again hear the cry of a peregrine falcon.

You look sad, Aelin, Thaelius said, turning around to scrape his concoction onto three plates. He let out a loud
whistle that hurt Celaenas ears, summoning Chaol to the kitchen. After agreeing with Thaelius on a proper meal, the
Captain of the Guard had made an excuse about needing a nap, and had returned to the living room. She was glad to
see her friend once again, and there was much that she still wished to say to him about her journeyand Dorian. She
had deliberately cut out all of the important parts that revolved around the Crown Prince of Adarlan. Explaining to
Thaelius how she came to fall in love with Dorian DeHavilliard would not be an easy task, and could wait for another
day.

Im afraid that being back in Renaril is a bit of a shock, Celaena admitted.

Thaelius put the frying pan down and sat beside her. Why is that?

Celaena let out a sigh. Wendlyn is so different from Adarlan, and its just she shook her head and looked down at
the table. I miss my friends.

Ah, Thaelius said, picking up a fork. Leaving ones companions is never easy, though Im sure that they will come
to visitperhaps when things are not sodifficult on this continent.

Celaena watched him as he took a bite of his eggs, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He was a stranger, despite
their close bond, and she looked towards the doorway, hoping that Chaol would hurry up.

Perhaps, Thaelius said quietly, staring at his food, some of that sadness also has to do with a certain Crown Prince
of Adarlan?

Celaena blushed and quickly shook her head. Dorian? Oh, no, hes just
A fool, Thaelius finished, his voice edged with a tone that alarmed Celaena. And this marriage of his is just proving
it more.

A slimy sickness crawled into Celaenas belly and writhed with discomfort. Dorian is only doing what he thinks is right
for his country, Celaena said, despite herself.

He is still a fool, and, if I were you, I would be glad that the boy revealed his true colors before anything serious
occurred. He deserves that ninny that hes marrying, and he deserves all the misery thats coming to him.

Celaena looked at the floor, unsure of why she felt so ashamed of herself, and why Thaelius, after so many years,
could still make her feel as small as a pebble.

The human heart, Chaol said as he walked into the kitchen, has no logic. It simply exists with the purpose of
loving, and political alliances are foreign matter. It chooses companions with no conscience to be found. You should
not speak so harshly of it, Thaelius.

Celaena raised grateful eyes to Chaol, who smiled at her. Thaelius merely snorted and took another bite of his food.
What difference does it make? Hell be wed in three weeks, and theres little that can be done to change his mind.

Celaena noticed the glare that Chaol gave the Fae Prince, and looked at the Captain of the Guard with lonely eyes as
he took a seat across from them. Thaelius saw her expression and cleared his throat.

Come now, Aelin, he said, and handed her a fork. Im sure that your friends miss you dearly, and that you miss
them just as much, but cheer up. You have two friends here that are waiting to entertain and help younot to
mention, two friends that have been locked in this apartment for weeks with little to do.

Celaena smiled weakly at Thaelius. It was understandable that he hated Dorian, as would she in his place, and she
wondered how much he had been told about their relationship. If he reacted badly to a Galathynius marrying a
DeHavilliard, then how would the rest of Trasien respond? It would be a disaster.

Still, as Celaena pushed the food around on her place, she could not help but feel the pang of her unrequited love,
and feel a tremendous desire to run to the palace, find Dorian, and tell him everything. She could do it. She could put
on a cloakno, she could put on one of her fine dresses and walk in as Lithaen Gordaina. Most of the guards had
known her as a ladyonly a select few had known her true identityand it would be easy, once she got in, to sneak
to Dorians chambers and wait for him to

Dont be a fool. Youd be killed, and then where would that leave Trasien? And remember: Trasien first, then think of
Dorian.

She could not forget that his wedding was three weeks away, which was a good week before her expected arrival
date. If she showed up any earlier, the king would know that she had done something wrong, and if she showed up on
time, then

The theatre season is beginning, Chaol said to ease the uneasy silence that had filled the kitchen. Perhaps we could
go see a few showsparticularly the ones with the dance company. I know that you enjoy classical danceit could be
a nice distraction.

Celaena nodded. I suppose that we could sneak in from the back and watch it from the raftersbeing spotted would
not be good.

Chaol looked at Thaelius. Do you enjoy the theatre?

The Fae Prince snorted. I didthough I must admit that I have little interest in seeing a bunch of dancers leap across
the stage in frilly costumes. I like the traditional playsones without dancing and elaborate musical scores.

Celaena rolled her eyes and shook her head. When I was younger, Thaelius was the only one who protested against
my dancing lessonseven though they were useful for fencing.

Thaelius quickly perked up. Well, I was the only one who also agreed that your singing lessons were a waste of time
and we all know how those turned out.
Chaol raised his eyebrows and Thaelius grinned. Have you ever heard her sing, Chaol?

Celaena chuckled. With any luck, their common past would not be the only topic of discussion. Chaol, she said,
Galan Ashryver almost shot me in the woods because he thought that I was a dying animal, when, in fact, I was only
singing to myself.

The Captain of the Guard laughed aloud. I can only imagine.

Celaena at last took a bite of her food and almost spat it out. It was burning hot! How had Thaelius managed to eat
it? Without thought, she spat it out upon her plate, her tongue already going numb.

Thaelius laughed. I had no idea my cooking was so terrible.

Celaena blushed deeply, smiling sheepishly at the spit-covered blob that she had accidentally dropped in the middle of
her plate. Her mouth was still on fire, and beginning to hurt badly. Its not bad, its just

Hot, Thaelius chuckled.

Chaol stood and walked to the sink, grabbing a goblet from a nearby shelf before filling up a glass of water.

Here, he said, offering it to her, and she nodded her thanks as she gulped down the cool water. Galan Ashryver and
Chaol would probably be better-suited friends for each other than Chaol and Dorianboth the Prince of Wendlyn and
the Captain of the Guard shared many similar qualities, and she hoped that someday they could discover that for
themselves.

Celaena heard the front door open and close, and she immediately tensed, her fork dropping onto her plate with a
clatter. Both men exchanged nervous glances and then turned towards the open doorway as Arobynn Hamel, dressed
as flamboyantly as ever, walked into the kitchen.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Isalina Fenburn stood in the driveway of Quelins estate, watching as more and more members of Trasiens court
arrived, bringing not only their children, who were almost full-grown, but also what resembled peasants made up as
soldiers. She wondered, with growing anxiety, how she would house all of these people, and, more importantly, how
long they would go undetected from Adarlans all-seeing eye. Quelin had been right when he claimed that he was
sending out letters to every member of the former court, but he had not anticipated that every single one of them
would take up the invitation.

Isalina looked at her husband, who was leaping amongst his old friends like the youth she had loved since she arrived
in Orynth at the tender age of nine. She had had little interest in the handsome Crown Prince, Rhoe Galathynius,
though she did enjoy playing with him, but from the moment that she saw the shaggy-haired, too-smart-for-his-own-
good young lord, Isalina knew that Quelin Fenburn was the only man that she would ever love. As she grew older and
realized that she would never be as pretty or as graceful as the other girls, she lost all hope that Quelin would ever
notice her outside of dueling and riding and hunting. Her mother, a distant cousin to King Orlon, had tried to get
Isalina to act like a lady, and once, around the tender age of fifteen, she had agreed to let her mother clean and dress
her like every other girl in the palace. Isalina had actually liked itthat is, until Rhoe, Hen, and Quelin saw her and
burst out laughing. For reasons that she did not understand at the time, she spent the rest of the day locked in her
room, mostly in a state of tears.

She was always Quelins companiona close second to Henand it pained her to see Quelin grow into a fine and good
young man, especially when the other girlsnow ladiesof the court also noticed. She knew that her frizzy red hair
and the freckles that would not go away and the curves that never really appeared would never attract Quelin in the
way that she had hoped, so instead of donning dresses and finery, she chose riding clothes, mens clothesanything
that concealed her lacking body.

When Prince Rhoe went to Wendlyn to receive special training with the Fae, both Quelin and Hen found the absence
difficult to bear: without Rhoes charms, how could they dig themselves out of the trouble in which they so often
found themselves? Quelins parents, and Hens, also noticed this, and within weeks of Rhoes departure, Isalina found
herself alone in Orynth. Her two remaining friends, like many kin of the Galathynius family before them, were shipped
off beyond the Staghorn Mountains to find the legendary Wolf Tribes to receive training. Isalina pleaded with her
father to go, but the man refused. Thankfully, her mother, finally giving up on her attempts to turn her roguish
daughter into a lady, convinced her father that an apprenticeship with a local sword smith would be best for the young
woman. It would last only as long as the summerthat is, until her friends returned.

Isalina, who preferred sleeping in late and eating whenever she chose, found that being an apprentice was hard and
tedious work. The sword smith did not treat her like a lady, and instead worked her to the bone. She would come
home every day to the castle with bruises and burns, and every night she felt that the second she fell asleep, dawn
arrivedespecially earlyonly moments later.

He taught her how to make swords, how to blend the right metals and fold and bend them to her hearts desire, how
to make beautiful hand guards and pommels, and, most importantly, how to etch in the ancient sword smith runes
that often infused the blade with a life and magick of its own.

She had never known that she had many talents outside of physical activity, but one day, when given the simple task
of engraving a blade with the customary rune inscription, Strike hard and true, Isalina learned the hard way. The
sword, beautiful and light, began to leap around the room, striking and imbedding itself in everything it could find.
When the sword smith returned from his errands and found Isalina holding onto the sword, which had imbedded itself
a stone, with every inch of her strength, they both realized that beyond Isalinas bush of hair lay an undetected
power.

By the time the fall came around, Isalina was able to not only enchant swords with her familys magick, but also able
to wield them with far greater talent than anyone in the castle. The long, colt-like legs that had caused her so much
humiliation as a child now gave her extra speed and power, and her hours working the billows and the forge had given
her strength to equal her male peers. She had even made a sword for herself, a lovely rapier that she named Loryn,
and had engraved with the words: Stay true to the heart.

Quelin and Hen returned with wild stories about the Wolf Tribe: there were wolves as large as cows, and the people,
brave and proud, rode upon them like horses. Apparently, a wolf and a human bonded in a ceremony that took place
on the cusp of puberty, and they remained together as mates for their entire lives. If a rider died in battle or from
disease, the wolf nearly always threw himself from the nearest cliff. If the wolf died, the rider was never the samean
entire part of him was gone. Quelin and Hen both now wore tattoos on their backs from their final nights with the
Tribe, and were now boasting about their future plans to visit the Eagle Tribe that bordered on the lost empire of
Morla. They took little interest in Isalinas apprenticeship, and even less interest in Loryn, even when she told them of
her engraving powers.

Rhoe soon returned, heartsick and rambling on and on about a Princess Evaelien. All three friends, who had known
Rhoe to be indifferent to women, were surprised by the youths turn in character. Every conversation with Rhoe
revolved around Princess Evaelien Ashryver, and eventually Orlon was forced to speak to his nephew about his
infatuation. It was well known that a disaster could occur if the bloodlines of the Ashryver and Galathynius families
were mixed. The Ashryvers were intimately connected to the Fae, and the Galathynius family descended from
Glamasil Galathyniusthe creator of humans, and the most hated of all the Fae.

Rhoe would hear nothing of it. He claimed that he would go back and marry her, but thankfully, not three weeks later,
something far worse happened.

Evaelien Ashryver, barely grown into her womans body, appeared in Orynth, and with her came a slew of furious
letters from her parents and family. Apparently, the young woman had been the first choice of Crown Prince Glaston
of Wendlyn, and his parents were very, very angry. Things were eventually settled, and Evaelien was granted her own
chambers in Orynth.

Isalina had liked the golden-haired beauty from the moment the she had marched through the castle gates,
demanding to see Rhoe. It took a lot of nerve to run away from your home to be with the man you loved, especially
when running away consisted of crossing the Great Ocean. Rhoe had told Isalina stories about Evaeliens courage and
intelligence, and now that she was in Orynth, the fire-haired maiden could believe them. It seemed possible that
Evaelien could trick three Valg into a deep sleep, and even more possible that Evaelien would slay four wolves to
protect Rhoes injured and unconscious form, and it seemed entirely valid to assume that Evaelien, if she tried, could
bring down the castle of a dark lord of old in order to rescue her love once again. When Isalina thought about it, she
wondered just how much of Rhoes celebrated heroism was actually accredited to Evaelien.

Evaelien, unlike the other women of the court, spoke to Isalina, and often accompanied her not just on hunts, but also
around the castle and Orynth. But it was only when Evaelien came to Isalina and asked, ever so politely, to be given
fencing lessons, that Isalina realized that, for the first time in her life, her dearest friend could be a woman. Evaelien
was funny and smart, and did not mind getting dirty. It was with some satisfaction that Isalina discovered that the
three males had difficulty keeping up with them in almost everything. Quelin and Hen adored Evaelien like a younger
sister, and often were the mediators when the Prince and Princess wound up at each others throats, an event that
frequently occurred.

Evaelien, in return, politely invited Isalina to join her in dancing and court lessons. Just for fun, of course. They would
practice at night, secretly, in Evaeliens chambers, and the princess soon also managed to convince Isalina that
reading was not an activity for idle courtiers. She brought Isalina to the theatre, and to countryside estates to see and
study great works of art, and she even was able to teach her proper tableside etiquette.

Isalina had protested to the court life of her mother, but she soon found that Evaeliens was a mixture of both male
and female activitiesand one that she enjoyed. Evaelien did not seek to eliminate Isalinas boyish behavior, but she
rather sought to soften her edges in the most subtle of ways so that others would not hesitate so much when talking
to her. Within a few months, even the court ladies were coming to Isalina for fencing instruction, and she found that
several of them turned into rather good friends.

Rhoe and Evaelien were soon married, and Isalina found herself, for the second time in her conscious life, in a dress.
She was Evaeliens Honorary Maiden, and the young bride had actually taken time out of her busy morning to brush
and ease Isalinas hair into a lovely design on the back of her head. She even applied a light coating of cosmetics to
Isalinas face, and when the young woman approached the nearest mirror, she could not believe her eyes. At some
point, breasts had grown in, and her boyish waist looked curved and fine in the flowing periwinkle dress that she
wore. Her large nose, thanks to the coloring on her cheeks and eyes, looked less so, and it was with misty eyes that
Isalina turned to thank her friend.

In the end, it was Evaelien who made Isalinas long-lost dream come true. The wedding celebration was the beginning
of it. Quelin, upon getting over his initial shock at Isalinas appearance, had been prodded by Evaelien to asked Isalina
to dance. Neither proved to be as graceful as their newly married friends, but they still laughed as they stepped on
each others feet. They danced the whole night, the hours flying by like minutes, and Isalina, now in her twenties,
began to hope once more. According to Hen, Quelin left the party that night understanding just a little bit more why
Rhoe Galathynius had returned from Wendlyn in such a dramatic state.

After she returned from the two weeks that she and Rhoe spent on the Azurian Coast, Evaelien managed to convince
Hen that a month-long trip to his grandmothers estate would be well worth his time.

Without word or request from Isalina, the princess immediately began to reeducate Quelin on what interesting
women were made of. She often, to Isalinas embarrassment, used Isalina as an example of an ideal woman, and
though it took some time, Isalina soon found that Quelin was staring at her more often than ever before. He even
requested that she make him a sword. Hens absence proved to be extremely useful: with no one else around, and
Evaelien and Rhoe often together, alone, for hours, Quelin had only Isalina to keep him company. They went on trips
to the countryside together, dined and hunted togetherall of the things that Rhoe and Evaelien did, save for the
intimate, sensual, loving things that she was still waiting to discover.

The birth of Aelin Ashryver Galathynius made the castle turn upside down, and as the baby turned into an infant, and
the infant turned into a smart and devious child, Isalina could not help but wonder when, after so many years,
something, if anything, would happen between her and Quelin.

She loved Aelin as an aunt would love a niece, and often participated in the clever tricks that Aelin played upon the
court. The child was a constant source of pride, especially as she hated her lady lessons, as she called them, and
pleaded to be allowed to learn how to fight and ride like boys. Evaelien, who had been wild in her own day, did not
wish to see her daughter follow down this road, so she protested, but Isalina managed to convince the young mother
that Aelin was more than capable of learning to use a sword and still be pretty and polite.

It took the death of the King, Crown Prince and Princess, and the heir to the throne to propel Quelin into marriage.
After their tombs had been locked and the mourning clothes had been put away once more, he asked Isalina to marry
him. She never knew why he changed so suddenly, but it happened within a week of the funeral. He told her that, for
many years now, he had loved her, and he apologized profusely for all of the mean things he had said and done to
her, and dropped to both of his knees to beg for her hand in marriage.

He did not fully understand when Isalina put a hand to her chest, unable to breathe, and began to cry with both
sorrow and joy. He had never seen her cry before, and as she let out several sobs and sank to her knees, all that
Isalina could think of was her dead friend.
Just as she had gently pushed Quelin in Isalinas direction at the wedding, Evaelien Ashryver, in her last act on earth,
had at last succeeded in giving her friend the love that for which she had waited over twenty-five years.

What a gathering, hm? Hen asked, taking a place at her side. I couldnt believe how many young ones there are
most of them played with Aelin as a child. Hopefully shell show them more interest than she did then.

Isalina smiled. Theyre the foundations for a new court, I suppose. She watched two strapping young men, both
blond and tan, take in the scenery of the estate. From the full head curls of their father and mother, she could tell
that they were of the House of Perl.

Is this your house? one of them, clearly older, though not by much, asked.

Isalina nodded. It is.

The boys looked to one another, grinned in a fashion that Isalina could only interpret as bad news, and then bowed
low. Our father sends his greetings. Our mother is ill, and we were sent as representatives, the younger one said
smoothly. They couldnt have been more than twenty-three, and, though they were dressed in fine clothes, the fabric
did show a bit of wear. Perl had been one of the richest houses in Trasienit had also been one of the first to fall into
poverty when Adarlan took over.

Sol, of the House of Perl. At your service, the older one said as he rose. Isalina and Hen bowed to him and looked at
the younger.

Ravi, the youth grinned. I suppose that you can also guess where Im from.

Isalina smiled warmly. Im

Isalina, both boys replied. And Hen, they said, looking at the man beside her. Weve heard a lot about you from
our parents, Sol grinned.

Isalina raised her red eyebrows. Oh?

Ravi looked at the sword Hen wore at his waist and then turned to Isalina. Is it true that you can make magick
swords? he almost whispered, and Isalina clapped him on the back and pushed him towards the door. The kitchen is
all the way down the hall and to the left, she laughed.

A manno, a young man on the cusp of manhoodnow approached them, surrounded by a flock of servants. From
his dark hair to his dark eyes and the unmistakable tattoo of intertwined red and white dragons that wrapped around
his right arm from his wrist to his elbow, Isalina immediately recognized him as the new Lord of Allsbrook. His father
had died not three weeks ago, and the tattoo was still fresh and scabbed on the lords arm. He looked very grave, and
did not smile as he approached Isalina and Hen.

Is it true? he asked in a deep voice, his eyes calm beneath his full black eyebrows.

Youll have to be a bit more specific than that, Isalina chuckled. He wore all black, either out of mourning or
personal taste, and still did not smile.

Is it true that Aelin Galathynius is alive and breathing?

Isalina grinned and fished a letter out of her pocket that she had read well over a hundred times in a matter of hours.

My dear, dear, old friends, she began, reading it aloud. I hope that this finds you alive, happy, and at the estate we
agreed upon should this situation ever arise. I will not disclose the exact information to you, for this letter could easily
fall into the wrong hands and spell our doom, but I wish to tell you something that you should feel free to share with
others. She is here with me in Adarlan. She is indeed alive, strong, and uncommonly clever. Not to mention pretty.
Well, beautiful. Though not in the overused faerie-tale way that you might expect a girl of her rank to be. Looking at
her, I can see how some might consider her face unusual, and she is certainly not built as waif-like as her mother. But
thats beside the point. There is much for you to know about her, about what she has been doing these past fifteen
years (far more interesting than our sulking and hiding!), and while she has not said it, I know that a part of her
yearns to expedite her return to Trasien and meet you all once again, as a woman and Queen. We cannot return to
Trasien immediately, for she still has unfinished business in Adarlan, but word will soon arrive of our location. Please
wait for an invitation before coming to find usI promise that it will not be more than a few weeks.

Isalina handed the letter to Allsbrook and smirked. I received that noon today from Prince Thaelius Glorwynn, her
betrothed.

Allsbrook read it for himself, and a small smile appeared on his full, pink lips. He was not very handsome, but he
carried himself well, and she saw a spark of excitement light in his eyes as he handed the letter back to Isalina and
bowed. Lord Artulian Allsbrook, he said gravely. Whatever help I might offer is yours.

Around him, his servants were putting down trunks and boxes, sweating and staggering in the heat.

I never knew a lord to bring so many clothes, Hen teased, and Artulian smiled slightly once more, and beckoned
them over to one of them. He undid the latch and flipped open the lid in a fluid sweep, doing the same for three
others.

Presents, he said, and took a step back from the four trunks, for Her Majesty.

Isalina and Hen leaned forward and blinked several times as they looked into the first massive chest. It was full of
gold and jewels, more jewels than they could count: sapphires, rubies, pearls, emeralds, diamonds, crowns, jeweled
daggers, silver necklacesTheir faces were lit with the suns reflection as it swam in the treasure chest, and they
found that they had no words as they moved to the next one.

It was filled with cloth, but not just any cloth: Spidersilk. Isalina had only seen it once in her life. Evaeliens bridal veil
had been made of it, and it had cost Rhoe more than he liked to admit. There were legends about the horse-sized
spiders that occupied the dark woods of the North, spinning their beautiful thread for hefty costs. It was so rare that it
was not found in any storesif you wanted it, odds were that you had to go and get it for yourself. Most people forgot
that the spiders were not only huge, but also very hungry, so naturally, many lost their lives on a yearly basis trying
to acquire it. But here it was, a trunk full of raw material waiting to be shaped. It was a kingdoms ransom.

For her wedding dress, Artulian said, waving his hand in the air, compliments of my old mother.

Hen frowned. For her marriage toyou?

Artulian snorted. If I had come to win a bride, I would have brought far more.

Isalina looked into the third and fourth chests and laughed. Why, theyre full of weapons!

Artulian pointed at the two-dozen other chests that were being carried through the doors of the house. I heard a
rumor that Aelin of Trasien slaughtered Adarlans army in Wendlyn. He picked up a double-bladed axe and examined
it. I wasnt sure if it was true, but I decided that these would be far more useful for such a woman.

Hen gave Isalina a worried look. They had heard about the victory and had also doubted it. But Thaelius had
expressed delight and surprise in her past, and so Isalinas imagination was now running away with her. Had she
snuck into the army and pretended to be a boy, working her way up through the ranks? They knew what had
happened to Aedion, and it was entirely possible that the child had followed the same fate. It would be immensely
useful to have a warrior for a queen, especially with the war that they all knew was coming, and Isalina wished, for
the thousandth time, that Thaelius had told her more.

Ive already put my men to work at converting your barn for more sleeping space, Artulian said, pointing at the
empty stone building. Though, he added, it would be nice to be given a bed inside of the house.

Why not just buy it? Isalina joked, motioning at the jewels. That way, you could do whatever you pleased with it.
The lords silence was slightly alarming as he bowed his head and proceeded to close the trunks and help move them
into the house.

Well, Hen said, watching a large family empty from a rather small carriage, at least when we run out of food,
Artulian will be able to support us for some time.

Isalina chuckled and waited for the family to approach after being bombarded by an ecstatic Quelin. She immediately
recognized the aging patriarch to be the Lord Valynt of Lochan. He was nearly eighty, and had been a close
companion to Orlon, and Isalina rushed forward to kiss him upon the cheek in welcome. He, like many of the nobles,
wore aging clothes, though he was still smiling.

My, he laughed, his voice frail, How old weve both become, Isalina!

She clasped his thin hands slightly. He had always supported her boyish endeavors, and had frequently intervened
with her parents on her behalf. He had been a great warrior in his youth, and Isalina smiled at his son, a brown-haired
man her age whom she had seen a few times in her life, but never really spoken to.

My son, Valynt said, and the man bowed, Will of Lochan. Isalina curtsied, and looked at the young woman who
stood beside Wills side. She had long dark hair that was unbound and fell past her breasts, and hazel eyes that were
warm and inviting. She was young, no more than eighteen, and pretty. Looking at her father, Isalina knew that it had
come from her mothers side.

And my grand-daughter, the Lady Kalyn of Lochan. The women curtsied to each other, and Isalina pointed to the
house. Im afraid that my husband was a bit over-eager when he invited everyonewe have not the space or the
utilities to keep everyone here. She pointed to a window on the second floor. Please, take my chambers for your
family, she offered.

Lord Lochan bowed deeply in gratitude. It is good to see you once again, Isalina, he said. Im glad I lived long
enough to witness this happy period. He pointed at one of the large carts that followed his caravan. As for utilities,
do not fret. I anticipated such a thingyour Quelin was always a bit hotheaded when it came to such mattersand
brought what food we could bring and buy along the way. Isalina thanked him profusely as she saw the wagon
heaped full of food, and kissed him again.

And I brought my cooks, the old man added, and winked. I thought Id tell you that last so I could squeeze another
kiss out of you, he chuckled, and Isalina kissed his other cheek, laughing.

With that, they walked into the house after stopping to greet Hen, and Isalina took a long breath. Others were still
coming down the road.

As Isalina embraced her old friends and welcomed them into her home, she realized with some clarity that it was not
just for Trasiens freedom that she was now fighting. Somewhere, still breathing and now a grown woman, was the
lost child of her dear friend, and Isalina was certain that she would fight to the death to bring her home.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

As Celaena Sardothien stared at Arobynn Hamel, she could only hear the words of Maeve echo in her mind. He was a
foolish man who had manipulated her fears with no thought of the consequences. He was greedy and selfish, and
couldnt see beyond his own lust for power. She hated him now, hated him almost as much as she hated the king, but
the fear that had once laid alongside that hate was now gone.

Arobynn ran a hand through his graying red hair and let out a laugh as he saw her sitting at the table. Well, look at
what the tide dropped off in the harbor! A rumors going around town today that a strange-looking woman jumped off
of an unmanned boat from Wendlyn and disappeared into the city without saying a word. I had a feeling that you
were somehow involved in it.

Celaena did not smile, and Arobynn quickly realized that three of the most powerful people on the continent were
looking at him with baleful eyes.

Arobynn laughed again. Youre not going to kill me now, are you? I would have worn my best clothes if I had known
that I was going to my death!

Celaena stood from the table and stalked towards him, stopping only a foot away. She did not feel like a queen, but
she knew that she looked it as Chaol and Thaelius rose to their feet behind her, the first semblance of Trasiens new
court.

Im not going to kill you, Arobynn, she said, her voice low, but laced with potential violence. She hated him. She
wanted to rip his throat from his neck and gouge his eyes out with bits of broken glass.
Pity, it would have made such an interesting headline, he said dryly, though Celaena could sense the nervousness in
his voice.

You used me, Arobynn, she began.

Well, I

And now I will use you, she finished, cutting him off. He stared at her with wide eyes. She suddenly had a solution
to her situation, though it irked her that she would now be forced to work with him again.

I want you to gather your most trusted assassinsthe ones who can keep their mouths shut and do some research
for me. She smiled darkly and looked down at her nails. You see I have a little problem, Arobynn, and I want to
know why.

What in the Heavens Above are you

Magick, she snapped. She fought to keep her anger in check. It would not do to have a dramatic confrontation in
front of her friends. That would wait for another time. I want to know why it stopped. I want to know when exactly it
stopped. I want to know who did it and how they did it, and I want to know soon.

Arobynn blinked several times, and Celaena reveled in the sudden power that she had over him.

You said to me months ago that with my past, I could accomplish whatever it was I was put on this earth to do. And
now Im doing it. I dont care what you might think or what snide comments you might make. Once I find out all the
information I need from you, we will not meet again, but for now, you will answer to me and me alone.

Arobynn took a step back. Youre out of your mind, he said quickly, trying to laugh, but failing miserably. You
murdered most of my best assassins when you

If you do not do as I have instructed you, then you will find yourself on that list.

Arobynn let out a snort. And what if I go to the authorities and reveal to the king where you and your, he jerked his
chin at the two men, a sneer on his face, entourage are located?

Her consciousness was soaked in a cold anger, and she gave him a small, but venomous smile. You wont, she said.
Thaelius and Chaol had faded from her mind, and all that remained was her seething, boiling anger. She might kill
himshe could.

And why is that? he asked softly.

Celaena leaned in, putting her mouth close to his ear. Because you will have to answer to me, she hissed so that
only he could hear. She withdrew and stared at him with glacial eyes. You took away fifteen years of my life, though
you did save it, and I thank you for the instruction that you gave me. It provided me with a good foundation for my
training with Queen Maeve of the Fae.

Behind her, Thaelius was smirking, his arms crossed.

Arobynn was silent for a moment, and then a genuine smile broke out across his face.

You murdered most of my assassins and terrified the others into finding new occupations, he bowed deeply. I can
only imagine what you will do to the kings and tyrants of the world, my lady.

Celaena smiled at last. Arobynn had been kind to her, for the most part, and his charm was infectious.

I came here with a purpose, you know, Arobynn said.

The three companions stared at the Assassin King with narrowed brows.

Your dear cousin, the General Aedion Ashryver, has just been thrown into prison for high treason.
O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Aedion sat in his filthy cell, waiting for Tiryn Joval to be dragged down into the prison with him. It had been a few
hours since his arrest, and no word had come that the old man had also been indicted and arrested. He was certain
that it had been Dorian who betrayed him, and he was even more certain that he would kill the prince once he was
free.

He had only been to the dungeons to examine prisoners of war for potential converters, but generally found the
stench to be far more than he could bear. Now, with his hands in shackles attached to the wall and his feet bound to a
fifty-pound weight, he could not escape it, and found that it suffocated him almost as much as the dark and dank
surroundings.

In some ways, he was relieved that he had been caught. Now he would be able to tell the king where his allegiance
truly lay. He was unsure if his army would be scared into subservience, or if they would rise up against the king, but
he knew that, gallows or not, he was now branded as a traitor to Adarlan. Any army that followed him would be a
rogue one.

There was a thunderous noise as the door to the dungeons flew open, and the Minister of Trasien walked in, ignoring
the hundreds of prisoners that begged for his attention. Old, but still firm in mind and body, Tiryn walked with the
energy of a man half his years towards Aedions cage, dismissing the guards with a single nod of his head.

I dont have much time, Tiryn whispered through the bars, and Aedion leaned forward as much as he could, his
arms aching in protest.

Who was it? asked Aedion, his voice caught between a whisper and a growl. It was Dorian, wasnt it?

Tiryn shook his head. I know for a fact it wasnt Dorian. It was the king himself.

Aedion stared at the minister. Do not lie to save that boys hide, old man.

Tiryn rolled his eyes and whispered again. I was in the council that decided that you be sent herethe council that
you missed today, Aedion.

Would it have made any difference?

Tiryn chortled. No. But hear this: the king is frightened. Adarlan was defeated at Peregrinno by Aelin of Trasien, and
now her Opal Tower burns and rumors are flying about an army assembling to fight for her. Things are swiftly on the
move, and the king has no idea how to placate the nations. Some of them are already calling foul play. There was a
riot in Calaculla the other day: the slaves rose up against their overseersthey butchered them with whatever they
could find. The soldiers eventually regained control of the mines, but not before many guards died. When questioned,
the slaves replied that their act had been done in the name of the oppressed, namely the Queen Aelin Galathynius.
They had heard a rumor that she was on her way to Calaculla to liberate them and believed it to be true. Tiryn shook
his head. The king ordered all of the slaves, even the ones who did not participate in the revolt, to be executed.

Tiryn stared at the ground, his eyes misting. They killed them all, Aedion. Ten thousand of them. They took them in
groups to the chambers where they melted down the rocks for glass, claiming that they were going to see the king.
They locked them in the furnaces, poured noxious gas down the chutes where they ordinarily poured the rocks, and
sealed off any ventilation. After they were all dead from the poisoned air, they turned on the furnaces and burned the
bodies. No one who went into the chambers came out alive. It was an extermination on a level that we have never
before seen on this earth.

Aedion could not believe what he was hearing. It was too horrible, too violent. That monster deserves to have his
head on the end of a pike.

He was debating doing the same at Endovier.

Most of those people were captured and brought to the minesthey werent even real slaves.

Tiryn nodded. He had General Fiorers army go into Eyputiusunn and gather over ten thousand fresh slaves. They
dragged people from their homes, even reaching into the middle classes for resources. The king of Eyputiusunn is
furious, as you can imagine, especially as most of the murdered were also from his nation.
Aedion shook his head. As horrible as this is, what does it have to do with me being thrown in prison?

The king is sending out a declaration that your arrest was because of your failure to go to Peregrinnoessentially,
you are being blamed for losing the battle. Its a classic move, and unfortunately, you are now the scapegoat. Tiryn
shook his head. Hes using your arrest to divert the continents attention away from the massacre at Calaculla. The
man is a genius, in some ways.

Aedion scowled. Why am I really here?

Tiryn looked behind him for any listening ears and then whispered more quietly than he had before. If Aelin
Galathynius is indeed on the move, then you, as her cousin and close childhood companion, are now a bigger threat
than ever before. The king cant track your movements and messages as well as others, so it is safe to assume that
you are now a spy for your queen and need to be executed immediately.

Immediately! Aedion jerked forward, his Ashryver eyes going wide.

Calm down, Tiryn said. The man that you despise so much actually saved your hide this afternoon. After hearing of
what happened to you, he went immediately to his parents and put on quite a show.

Aedion sat still, his heart still racing.

Dorian DeHavilliard convinced his father, through his mother, that there would be no better entertainment than
having you executed at his wedding in three weeks time.

Thats insane, Aedion snorted. That only makes things worse.

Tiryn gave a small smile. No, he said so quietly that Aedion had to lean forward to hear him. You see, Aedion,
Dorian still keeps Aelins dog at his side.

So? The old man had gone insane. Just get me a damned key and help me escape!

You and I both know, Aedion, that you wouldnt make it out of the dungeon alive.

Its better than being the nights entertainment!

Tiryn shook his head. You never listen, Aedion.

The General took a deep breath.

The Crown Prince delayed your execution for a reason. Three weeks is dangerously close to four, and we all know
who is returning then.

And? Is he planning for a double execution?

Im not sure why exactly Dorian made the request, as he no longer speaks to me, but I think that somewhere, in the
back of his mind, hes planning something to ensure that both Ashryver children escape in one piece.

Aedion chuckled. Wouldnt that be a change of heart.

Despite what you may think, Dorian does not love Nicolle DeLemanscon. He loves our Queen.

And how will that help either of us?

Again, I dont know, but perhaps if Dorian can find a way to delay the wedding, then the dates will overlap.

And?

Tiryn looked around again as a guard noisily walked through the dungeon doors and whispered his final words to
Aedion.
And, Tiryn hissed as he stood, you forget that your cousin is not just queen: she is also Adarlans assassin. Dorians
plea for a delay was not only an action, but rather a message to anyone who bothered to hear it. And if theres
anyone listening, its her. He knows that when she returns, she will find a way to save you.

Tiryn nodded as a guard approached and passed and cleared his throat.

How? Aedion asked, not meaning to sound as confused and desperate as he felt.

Tiryn shrugged his shoulders. She was a creative killer. I can only assume that her methods of rescue will be
similar.

With that, Tiryn bowed to Aedion and walked away, leaving the General suddenly feeling more terrified than he had
felt in a while.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Celaena Sardothien stood in front of her floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the perfect view of the glass castle. The
sun was setting, and the palace was awash with reds and pinks and gold, the original stone foundations almost buried
beneath the shimmering majesty of the structure. It had gone from a palace of ice to one of fire, and Celaena
carelessly ran a hand down the velvet drapes that were neatly tied back with gold tassels.

After Arobynn had told them of Aedions fate, he had quickly left to gather what forces he could to help her in both her
original cause and her new one: rescuing Aedion. He had sent them a message not an hour ago informing them that
the execution date had been set for Dorians wedding: apparently, the hanging would occur as the centerpiece of the
nights entertainment.

And they think things in Wendlyn are barbaric.

Apparently, it had been Dorian DeHavilliard who had set the date after pleading with his parents to have it changed,
and Celaena could not help but ponder why the prince would make such a public display of insulting and harming her
family.

She could not tell what he meant by it, and she found that she was slipping further into a state of sadness as she
realized that perhaps Dorian really did not love her at all.

She could bear looking at the castle no more. With a frustrated sigh, she ripped the sash from the curtain and pulled it
across the large window, doing the same to the other side. The room was instantly dark, and she heard Chaol let out
a grunt as he tripped over the table in front of the fireplace.

The darkness suddenly terrified her, and she sought, without avail, to open her mind to the magickal vision that had
allowed her to see at night. She was blind in the dark, just as everyone else. She grabbed the curtain and pulled it
back, ruby light pouring in to reveal Chaol on his knees in front of the fireplace, rubbing his leg.

He was frowning at her. The next time you decide to have a tantrum, give us some warning, he joked. I almost
took off my leg on this table.

She gave him an apologetic look and shrugged at Thaelius, who was watching with some amusement. Personally,
the Fae Prince grinned as he pointed at the castle, I think its terribly tacky.

Celaena smiled at him, as she walked around the room and lit a few candles. The king, unknowingly, now had a
replacement for Chaol. It enraged her, but she knew that she would have to go to the palace now, if not for anything
but to die trying to liberate her cousin.

Once she had lit enough candles in all of the rooms, she went through them and closed the curtains. It would not do
to have her apartment, after so many years, discovered. As the men worked to get a fire going, she went to the front
door and casually locked it, glancing down at the table alongside the wall. There were so many keys lying about in the
ceramic bowls! She had no idea what most of them were for, though, after hearing about how Chaol had come across
her collection of newspaper clippings, she was amused that he had had so much frustration with them.

She walked to the bookcase, where she noticed with some irritation that most of her books were now out of order.
They had informed her that they had been reading through most of her library, but this!
Celaena frowned deeply. It seemed as if they had dumped all the books on the floor and put them back in no
particular order!

She ran a finger down a blue leather spine and shook her head. How on earth was she going to save Aedion from the
gallows? Even if she could break into the palace, how could she free him from the dungeons and get him back to the
apartment undetected?

She looked at the ceiling, half-hoping that Mab would appear to her again, but let out a sigh as a moment passed and
no help came. Dorians wedding would certainly be a fiasco if there were an execution thrown in, and Celaena doubted
that even the one hundred classical dancers that had been hired to put on a series of miniature performances could
out-do the thrill of seeing a great general hung.

You know, said Chaol, I must admit that Im having some difficulty figuring out a way to get into the castle. I know
those dungeons inside and out, and theres no way for anyone to get in and escape with a prisoner. Believe me,
others have tried.

Yes, Thaelius agreed. Wed be killed.

What if we didnt try to be sneaky about it? Celaena asked, still staring up at the ceiling, her back to them.

What? Chaol asked. You mean, just walk into the castle and walk out with him a few moments later?

Why not? I could dress up as a lady. No one would suspect.

Celaena slowly lowered her eyes, admiring the many artifacts on her bookshelves. They stopped as they fell upon the
glass figure of a dancer, balanced on a single slippered foot in a perfect arabesque, her arms held in lovely symmetry
around her head.

Celaena let out a sigh.

Aelin, thats mad. Even if people didnt recognize you, theyd know who Aedion was. Thaelius said.

Its absurd, Chaol added. You cant waltz right into the palace and expect not to be killed.

The figurine seemed to be smiling at her.

One hundred dancers.

Her eyes widened slightly as she became filled with the electric energy of having come across a brilliant plan. She did
not need magick to challenge the king of Adarlan! She turned in place, finding both men watching her, and smiled
with wicked delight.

I have an idea.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Its insane, Chaol admitted, but maybemaybe it will work.

Maybe? Thaelius injected. Aelin, have you had any training as a dancer, save for when you were eight years old?

Celaena rolled her eyes. As a matter of fact, Arobynn made me take lessons in classical dancing for the purpose of
having better balance and flexibility. I trained for four years, and Id like you to know that Im more than capable of
pulling off an impersonation.

Aelin, its not an impersonation, were talking about dancing before the king.

It will only last a few minuteslong enough for me to plant the explosive powder.
Chaol now joined in. How exactly will that work? Do you expect to be allowed to toss mysterious substances across
the floor and then be able to escape?

Celaena rolled her eyes. Well, thats where the real genius comes in. Im sure that they will be performing some frilly,
faerie-inspired pieces: if I mix in a little glitter, Im sure that everyone will take it to be faerie dust.

And the chemical reactor? How exactly will you conceal that? Thaelius clearly did not understand.

Allow me to explain once again, she said. I use Arobynn to find out who is performing, and when and where they
are meeting. I learn the dancesall of them. I follow them in the day of the performance, knock one of the girls out,
take her costume and find out her number, go out before the king, tossing the explosive powder everywhere, which
needs a reactor in order to turn into smelly, confusing smoke, and at the end of my number, I throw down the
chemical, which will react to the circle of powder that I have spread. Mass confusion and hysteria will result, especially
if I kill a few guards in the midst of it all, and I get to Aedion. If he is going to be the central attraction, then he will
still be alive. I free him and flee, through the gardens and over the southern wall, where two cloaks will await us, and
we return here, in one piece.

How exactly do you intend to learn all of that information, especially how to dance? Chaol asked.

No one involved with the arts in Adarlan can resist a bribe, she smirked.

Celaena leaned back in her chair. Yes, it would all work out perfectly. She could imagine it in her head. It would be
over in less than an hour. Three weeks was not nearly enough to learn a dance, but she knew that if she were able to
find what costumes corresponded to what numbers, she could secure a rescue so daring that no one would suspect.

She would have a solo, wild and brilliant, and everyone would be so distracted by her leaps and twirls that they would
not question the sparkling powder flying from her across the wide hall. When it ended, she would throw down the
reactor and steal Aedion from right beneath the kings nose. She could think of no smarter way to rescue Aedion and
humiliate the king.

She looked down at her feet. She had been good at dancing, and she enjoyed it, and she knew that there was only
one woman capable of turning an assassin into a classical dancer in only three weeks. Without saying a word, she
moved into her study and wrote a quick note to Arobynn, knowing that the time to act had finally come.

O-o-o-O-o-o-O

Chaol sat awkwardly on the edge of Celaenas bed, watching her fuss with her unruly hair in the bathroom. After she
had explained her insane plan to rescue her cousin, they had settled down to a simple dinner, the question of the
sleeping arrangements hanging over the conversation like a rain cloud. She politely asked them how they had spent
their time, and how they had both come to arrive at her apartment, the answers to which thankfully carried them
through the meal and long after dinner.

They spent the remainder of the evening perfecting Celaenas plan, often slipping into discussion of the memories
shared between them. When Thaelius informed Chaol of her early obsession with sweets and the long lengths she
took to acquire them, he could only laugh and share how she had eaten well over a pound of candy on Yulemas. She
would laugh and scowl at them both, and soon the clock had struck twelve.

There was an awkward silence, and Chaol immediately suggested that he sleep on the couch and give Celaena her
bedroom back, a request that she immediately denied. She would not have him drooling all over the couch, as he had
already ruined much of her carpet with food stains. When Thaelius offered to give Chaol his bed in the guest room and
sleep on the couch, she made the same reply.

To Chaols great embarrassment, she quickly declared that she and Chaol would share her bed until better
arrangements could be found. Thaelius fell silent, and the young captain noticed the gleam of disappointment, if not
sadness, that momentarily crossed his eyes. Chaol protested Celaenas idea, and she coyly remarked that, between
friends, sharing a bed was not such a scandal. This suggested many things, and Chaol watched as Thaelius bowed
goodnight to his queen and quickly went into his room.

As Chaol normally slept in nothing but his underclothes, he found himself in an awkward position. He had no
nightclothes to wear, and Chaol was certain that if Thaelius walked in and saw him shirtless beside her in bed that he
would find himself with a broken neck and spine on the pavement a floor below.
Celaena, now dressed in a pale green silk and lace nightgown that fell just above her tanned knees, turned to him. He
could easily make out the outline of her breasts, which seemed fuller than he remembered, and he frowned at the fine
white scar that stood out on her shoulder.

She noticed his stare and raised a hand to the scar. Its the one from Peregrinno, she said, quietly and sat on the
back of her loveseat.

Chaol was painfully aware of his body as her eyes met with his, and he fought the urge to fidget, though his face did
not stop itself from blushing.

Im sorry that Ive brought you into all of this, Chaol, she said, her eyes now soft and moist. I know how much your
position meant to you, and what you did to get it, and now that Doriannow that he no longer

She gave a great sigh, and suddenly the queenly aura around her vanished as her shoulders sunk down and she
lowered her head. She appeared to be a young woman with too much on her thin shoulders, a young woman whose
heart could not understand how a man had gone from the deepest love to hatred.

Chaol didnt know what to say. He watched her regain control of herself, and straightened as she raised her head. It
was all for him, you know, she said quietly. Thats why I came back so quickly. I wanted all of this to be over as
soon as possible so that I could focus my energies on She shook her head. It makes no difference now, does it?
Hes made a public display out of killing my cousin, and hes shown no signs of backing out of his wedding.

Chaol was silent, and she closed her eyes and smiled bitterly. Oh, Im a coward, she said, snorting. I cant even
bring myself to march to the castle and claim my countrys freedom.

It takes a lot of courage to even do what youve done so far, Aelin, Chaol said at last. And, he spoke the words
that Thaelius had said to him weeks ago, if Dorian does not realize or appreciate you for you, not for being Queen of
Trasien, then he does not deserve you.

But I

All hearts change, Aelin, he said with an earnestness in his eyes that he did not intend. Chaol coughed. Whatwhat
I mean is that the wedding is three weeks away. Dorian could back out, or he could go through with it. The important
thing is that perhaps there are some sacrifices we all must make for our country, even if that sacrifice is, he
swallowed, one of the heart.

Her brows narrowed slightly, and she cocked her head to the side, as if she were attempting to read further into his
thoughts.

You had a vision, Chaol. Not a dream, a vision. You made your choice, now remain true. This is only lust, and you
should know better.

Tell me everything that occurred between you two these past few months, Chaol said, hoping to steer her far away
from the subject at hand. Let there be no secrets between us anymore.

Save for one.

Celaena smiled sadly and took a seat beside him on the bed, and told him everything.

Needless to say, Chaol found himself to be furious with his friend after she finally gave the full account of her story.
Dorian had wooed her with his promises of undying love and left her for the wolves. He had made her go nearly mad
with heartbreak, and he now understood the origins of the strange stories in the paper about a swan crashing through
the window of the ball. It seemed only appropriate that the swan was Mabs form, and the symbol of all the Ashryver
women. The more Chaol thought about it, the more he wanted to return to the palace, if only to give Dorian the
punch to the face that he so rightfully deserved.

She was looking at him with expectant eyes, and Chaol took a deep breath before speaking.

You were right not to tell Thaelius, he admitted, running a hand through his chestnut hair.
She raised an eyebrow and Chaol smiled slightly. If he knew half of what you have just told me, I wouldnt be
surprised if Dorian wound up dead a few hours later.

She let out a chuckle. What do you make of him? she whispered.

Do you want the truth, or what I should tell you as a dear friend?

Both.

Chaol shrugged. Hes perfect. He will undoubtedly make a good husband and king, and any woman would be happy
with him. Your parents chose well.

Celaena ran a hand across her bedspread. I know, she said weakly, and there was a submission to her voice that did
not sit well with him.

Chaol pointed at the large wooden chest in which he had first discovered the remnants of her past and sat up straight.
You set up quite a treasure hunt to get into that thing.

She grinned, her mood lightening.

I feel, Chaol said, getting up and pulling the heavy trunk across the floor to their side of the bed, that you owe me
an explanation for some of these, he threw open the lid and looked at the contents at the bottom, artifacts.

She inched forward, her eyes bright. Chaol sat on the floor beside the trunk and reached in, drawing forth a rusting
knife.

Whats this?

Celaena extended her hand and took the dagger from him, running her fingers over the blade. When Arobynn first
took me in, he brought me before his assassin council as a proposition. One of the assassins, a beast of a man, didnt
like the idea of me staying in the keep, and so he hurled this dagger at me. By pure luck, it barely missed my head.
Arobynn killed him for it. She handed it to Chaol again. I took it with me as a souvenir.

Chaol looked at the blade. Interesting, was all that he said as he gently placed it back, drawing forth another two
from the box. They were smaller blades, more finely crafted, and marked with an S.

S is for Sardothien, I suppose?

Celaena did not reach for the blades, but rather shook her head sadly. S is for Symeth.

Symeth?

She sighed. He and I were raised by Arobynn, and became rivals as we got older. He fell in love with me, and I lived
with him for some time before he was murdered. I never found out who his killer was, but I have my suspicions.
Those knives belonged to him.

Chaol put the blades back and looked at her. Arobynn?

Who else? I had every tracker looking for the murderer, but no trace could be found. It was too perfect, too
calculated. Anger boiled inside of her chest. He knew that we were going to leavethat we were going to retire to
the country, marry, and raise a family.

Im sorry, Chaol said, So you truly loved him?

No, Celaena admitted, and Chaol blinked a few times. It wasnt love for meI cared for him, but I she trailed off
and blushed. Well, we both know what thats like.

She threw the words that they had exchanged months and months ago at him like a hundred pounds of bricks, and
Chaol was surprised to find himself fighting against the rising urge to kiss her. He didnt understand why she was now
so different to him, and he hoped that it had little to do with the materialistic value of her being Queen of Trasien. He
could not ignore his attraction to her, and he was already scolding himself for giving in once before. He reminded
himself that she did not belong to him, if she belonged to any man at all, and Chaol moved away from the subject
once again.

Your additional room was quite interesting, he said, jerking his chin at the closet. Perhaps it would make a good
bedroom if you got rid of the menagerie of weapons.

The clock struck two, and Celaena looked at the dying fire. Well think of redecorating tomorrow, she said, and went
into the bathroom to blow out the candles. I need to sleep.

Chaol found himself still in an uncomfortable position as she doused the fire and climbed into bed, the only light now
coming from the slender bedside candle. She nestled down between the silk sheets and patted the bed beside her. But
Chaol did not move from his spot on the floor.

Oh, gods above, she huffed. I know that you sleep without many clothes on.

Chaol stood and frowned at her. Perhaps I should just sleep on the couch.

What a waste of a good nights rest! she pulled down the covers and fluffed his pillow for him. Come now, I wont
bite.

Chaol stood still, and Celaena clicked her tongue with annoyance as she rolled over onto her side and blew out the
candle.

There, she said. I cant see a damn thing. I cant tell if you have your shirt on or off, and, frankly, I dont care,
though I would prefer if you kept your dirty clothes out of my bed.

Chaol snorted and removed his clothes, climbing into bed beside her, wearing only his under-shorts. He stayed as far
to the edge as he could, but he could still feel the heat emitting from her body as they lay beneath the down
comforter.

They were silent for some time, and then he felt her roll over, facing his back.

Chaol?

Chaol turned over and found her closer to him than he thought, her face illuminated by the thin stream of moonlight
that managed to sneak in through the curtains.

Yes? he asked, his eyes meeting hers.

She smiled sweetly at him. Im glad to see you again, she said gently. Before he could stop her, she leaned forward
and kissed him upon his brow. Her nightgown brushed against his bare skin, and he felt his cheeks burn as she pulled
away, the smell of the sea still in her hair.

He fought to keep his heart rate down, and merely gave her a grin. Things were getting boring without you around,
he said.

She gave him a sleepy smile and ruffled his hair with her hand. Goodnight, Chaol, she yawned and closed her eyes.

She was not beautiful in the overwhelming goddess fashion of so many princesses and queens who occupied most of
Chaols books, but her beauty was rather in the small things, in the gentle pink of her cheek that rose to kiss her ivory
cheekbones, in the direct space between the bottom of her nose and the dip in her upper lip, in the way that her neck
was in sharp, yet smooth contrast with her defined jaw. She had not the large eyes or long eyelashes of many
beautiful women, but her ears were perfectly sized for her head, and her nose, while small, was a gentle knoll against
the smooth plain of her cheek. Her face was pretty, but not heartbreakingly so. It was rather a common form of
prettiness that was elevated by what he learned were Ashryver eyes, eyes that were so full of light and life that they
showed the whirlwind going on within. She could have not spoken a word but communicated everything perfectly with
just her expressive face.
Chaol clenched his jaw. No, this kind of tension would not do. He had made his choice, and he would hold true. It was
a battle between princes now, and there never were any Captains of the Guard riding off with the princess at the end
of faerie tales. His place was on a distant battlefield, fighting for or with her, and not on a throne.

A relief was seeping through him, and Chaol felt his body melt into the bed. There would be a woman for him, perhaps
one with not such an absurd number of suitors after her.

How many does she have now? Thaelius, perhaps that Raonn fellow, and DorianWell, I suppose that Raonn never
really did anything, socan it be two? It somehow feels like many more than that. She does tend to exaggerate
everything, so its only natural for me to assume that every male she encounters is madly in love with her. After all,
shes just one woman. An extraordinary woman at that, butwell, who could ever believe that a single woman would
be capable of attracting such men? Yes, having two suitors is a natural number. Perhaps she should use fewer
adjectives when describing her friends from Wendlyn. Though having an overly stimulated imagination never did
anyone any harm. Yes, only two is fine.

Chaol thought of how that number would go down to one in a matter of weeks, and could not help but feel rather
sorry for his friend. He would remain with her until he was no longer needed or dead, though Chaol already knew that
the court that would gather around her would be one sculpted from myth. He just hoped that he lived to witness it
through these dangerous and demonic times.

Goodnight, he said quietly, and within moments she was asleep. Though he stayed awake a good while longer,
Chaol closed his eyes and just listened to the sound of Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius breathing.