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information this morning,” Maeve drawled.
“An account that you were currently in
Terrasen, readying the little army you
gathered for war. You, and Prince Rowan, and
my two disgraced warriors. Along with your
usual group.”
Aelin hadn’t realized she’d been holding
on to it.
That sliver of hope, foolish and pathetic.
That sliver of hope that he’d come for her.
She had told him not to, after all. Had told
him to protect Terrasen. Had arranged
everything for him to make a desperate stand
against Morath.
“Useful, to have a shape-shifter to play
your part as queen,” Maeve mused. “Though I
wonder how long the ruse can last without
your special gifts to incinerate Morath’s
legions. How long until the allies you
collected start asking why the Fire-Bringer