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“Gods help us,” Chaol muttered. Rowan
echoed the sentiment.
Hasar opened her mouth, but Prince Sartaq
cut in, “Where we march will be decided after
Anielle is secured.” The prince’s face
remained grave, calculating—but not cold.
Aelin had decided within moments that she
liked him. And liked him even more when it
came out that he had just been crowned the
khagan’s Heir. With Nesryn as his potential
bride.
Potential, to Aelin’s amusement, because
Nesryn herself wasn’t so keen on being
empress of the mightiest empire in the world.
But what Sartaq had said—
Elide blurted, “You mean to not go to
Terrasen?”
Aelin kept still, her fingers curling at her
sides.
Prince Sartaq said carefully, “It had been