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the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered
as the queen.
Chaol blurted, “Dorian?”
Rowan answered, “Not with us.” He
glanced to the royals.
“They know everything,” Nesryn said.
“He’s with Manon,” Aelin said simply.
Chaol wasn’t entirely sure whether to be
relieved. “Hunting for something important.”
The keys. Holy gods.
Aelin nodded. Later. He’d think on where
Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded
again. The full story would come then too.
Nesryn said, “May I present Princess Hasar
and Prince Sartaq.”
Aelin bowed—low. “You have my eternal
gratitude,” Aelin said, and the voice that came
out of her was indeed that of a queen.
Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown
upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as