1564024802

mused, surveying Yrene with an intensity that
made Chaol want to start shattering things.
“Towers is not a noble house I recognize.”
The miserable bastard.
Yrene’s chin lifted slightly. “It may not be,
milord, but its lineage is no less proud or
worthy.”
“At least she speaks well,” his father said,
sipping from his wine. Chaol clenched his free
hand so hard his glove groaned. “Better than
that other one—the swaggering assassin.”
Yrene knew. All of it. She knew every
scrap of history, knew whose note she carried
in her locket. But it didn’t ease the blow, not
as his father added, “Who, it turned out, is
Queen of Terrasen.” A mirthless laugh. “What
a prize you might have had then, my son, if
you’d managed to keep her.”
“Yrene is the finest healer of her
generation,” Chaol said with deadly quiet.