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“Doranelle’s hers.”
She wouldn’t set foot in that city again,
Maeve or no. She wasn’t sure if that made her
a coward. She didn’t dare reach for her
magic’s comforting rumble.
“The Little Folk truly knew,” Fenrys
mused, rubbing his jaw. “What you were.”
They had always known her, the Little
Folk. Had saved her life ten years ago, and
saved their lives these past few weeks. They
had known her, and left gifts for her. Tribute,
she’d thought, to Brannon’s Heir. Not to ...
Gavriel murmured, “The Faerie Queen of
the West.”
Silence.
Aelin blurted, “Is that an actual title?”
“It is now,” Fenrys muttered. Aelin shot
him a look.
“With Sellene as the Fae Queen of the
East,” Rowan mused.