anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat
of the siege tower, holding the line.
Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed
a battle cry and tore into Morath.
This first battle would set the tone.
It would set the tone, and send a message.
Not to Morath.
Impress us, Hasar had said.
So she would. So she’d picked the golden
armor and her battle-crown. And waited until
dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the
battlements, before unleashing herself.
To keep the men here from breaking, to
wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.
To convince the khaganate royals of what
she might do, what she could do. Not a threat,
but a reminder.
She was no helpless princess. She had
never been.