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and a healed, happy friend. Or as happy as any
of them might be at the moment.
Aelin met Chaol’s stare. “Focus on
winning this battle,” he said, nodding once in
understanding at the fire she knew smoldered
in her eyes, “and then we shall decide.”
Princess Hasar smirked at Aelin. “So be
sure to impress us.”
Again, that tension rippled through the
room.
Aelin held the princess’s stare. Smiled
slightly. And said nothing.
Nesryn shifted on her feet, as if well aware
what that silence could mean.
“How solid are the keep walls?” Gavriel
asked Chaol, gently steering the conversation
away.
Chaol rubbed at his jaw. “They’ve
withstood sieges before, but Morath has been
hammering them for days. The battlements