1564024802

More of that swagger in her gait, too.
The sleeves of her white shirt had been
rolled to the elbow, her hair braided back.
Goldryn and a long knife hung from her belt.
Ready for training. Primed for it, judging by
the bristling energy that buzzed around her.
Lorcan met her halfway, descending the
small stairs.
Whitethorn lingered nearby, also dressed
for sparring, the wariness in his eyes telling
Lorcan enough: the prince had no idea what
this was about.
But the young queen crossed her arms. “Do
you plan to sail with us to Terrasen?”
An unnecessary question for dawn, and in
the middle of the sea. “Yes.”
“And you plan to join us in this war?”
“I’m certainly not going there to enjoy the
weather.”
Amusement glittered in her eyes, though