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The young queen let out a broken laugh of
joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain
lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol
held her right back, every question fading
from his tongue.
Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. “I
knew you would,” she breathed, gazing down
his body, to his feet, then up again. “I knew
you’d do it.”
“Not alone,” he said thickly. Chaol
swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm
behind him. To the woman he knew stood
there, a hand over the locket at her neck.
Perhaps Aelin would not remember,
perhaps their encounter years ago had meant
nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene
forward. “Aelin, allow me to introduce—”
“Yrene Towers,” the queen breathed as his
wife stepped to his side.
The two women stared at each other.