home in Ilium.”
“Why not decide yourself?” Ansel asked.
Rolfe waved a tattoed hand. “They offered
up their lives to fight in this war. They should
be able to choose where they wish to live after
it.”
“Wise,” Aelin said, clicking her tongue.
Rolfe stiffened, but relaxed upon seeing the
warmth in her gaze. But she looked to Ilias,
the assassin’s armor dented and scratched.
“Did you speak at all this entire war?”
“No,” Ansel answered for him. The Mute
Master’s son looked to the young queen. Held
her stare.
Aelin blinked at the look that passed
between them. No animosity—no fear. She
could have sworn Ansel flushed.
Sparing her old friend, Aelin said to them
all, “Thank you.”
They faced her again.
lily
(lily)
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