Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #1)(98)

Chaol also didn’t say anything when she moved closer to him for the remainder of their walk.

?

Chaol paced through his room, his time with Celaena over until she’d train with the other Champions that afternoon. After lunch, he’d returned to his room to read the report detailing the king’s journey. And in the past ten minutes, he’d read the thing three times. He crumpled the paper in his fist. Why had the king arrived alone? And, more importantly, how had everyone in his traveling party died? It wasn’t clear where he’d gone. He’d mentioned the White Fang Mountains, but . . . Why were they all dead?

The king had vaguely hinted at some sort of issue with rebels poisoning their food stores, but the details were murky enough to suggest that the truth was buried somewhere else. Perhaps he hadn’t explained it fully because it would upset his subjects. But Chaol was his Captain of the Guard. If the king didn’t trust him . . .

The clock struck and Chaol’s shoulders sagged. Poor Celaena. Did she know that she looked like a frightened animal when the king appeared? He’d almost wanted to pat her on the back. And the effect the king had on her lasted long after their encounter; she’d been distant during lunch.

She was incredible now, so fast he had difficulty keeping up with her. She could scale a wall with ease, and had even demonstrated by climbing up to her own balcony with nothing but her bare hands. It unnerved him, especially when he remembered she was only eighteen. He wondered if this was how she’d been before Endovier. She never hesitated when they sparred, but she seemed to sink far within herself, into a place that was calm and cool, but also angry and burning. She could kill anyone, Cain included, in a matter of seconds.

But if she became Champion, could they let her loose into Erilea once more? He was fond of her, but Chaol didn’t know if he could sleep at night knowing that he had retrained and released the world’s greatest assassin. If she won, though, she’d be here for four years.

What had the king thought when he saw them together, laughing? Surely, that hadn’t been his reason for neglecting to tell him what happened to his men. No—the king wouldn’t bother to care about that kind of thing, especially if Celaena might soon be his Champion.

Chaol rubbed his shoulder. She’d looked so small when she saw the king.

Since returning from his travels, the king hadn’t seemed any different, and was just as gruff with Chaol as he’d always been. But the sudden disappearance, then returning without a single soul . . . There was something brewing, a cauldron that the king had journeyed to stir. Celaena somehow knew it, too.

The Captain of the Guard leaned against a wall, staring at the ceiling. He shouldn’t press into the king’s business. Right now, his focus was on solving the murders of the Champions, and on making sure Celaena won. It wasn’t even about Dorian’s pride anymore; Celaena wouldn’t survive another year in Endovier.

Chaol smiled slightly. She’d stirred up enough trouble in the months she’d been in the castle. He could only imagine what would happen over the next four years.





Chapter 45

Celaena panted as she and Nox lowered their swords, the Weapons Master shouting at the five Champions to get some water. Tomorrow was their last Test before the duel. She kept her distance when Cain lumbered toward the water jug on the table by the far wall, watching his every movement. She eyed his muscles, his height, his girth—all strength stolen from the dead Champions. She studied the black ring on his finger. Did it somehow have a connection to his horrible abilities? He hadn’t even looked all that surprised to see her alive when she’d entered the training hall. He’d just given her a small, taunting smile and picked up his practice sword.

“Is something the matter?” Nox said, his breathing ragged as he stopped by her side. Cain, Grave, and Renault were talking amongst themselves. “You were a bit off-balance.”

How had Cain learned to summon that creature—and what was that blackness from whence it had appeared? Was it truly just so he could win the competition?

“Or,” Nox continued, “do you have other thoughts on your mind?”

She shoved Cain out of her head. “What?”

He grinned at her. “It seemed like you were rather enjoying the Crown Prince’s attention at the ball.”

“Mind your own business,” she snapped.

Nox held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to pry.” She walked to the water jug, not saying a word to Nox as she poured herself a glass and didn’t bother to offer him one. He leaned in as she set down the jug. “Those scars on your hand are new.”

She stuffed her hand into a pocket, her eyes flashing. “Mind your own business,” she repeated. She stepped away, but Nox grabbed her arm.

“You told me to stay in my rooms the other night. And those scars look like bite marks. They say Verin and Xavier were killed by animals.” His gray eyes narrowed. “You know something.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Cain, who was joking with Grave as if he weren’t a demon-summoning psychopath. “There are only five of us left. Four make it to the duels, and the Test’s tomorrow. Whatever happened to Verin and Xavier, it wasn’t an accident, not when their deaths occurred within two days of the Tests.” She shook her arm out of his grasp. “Be careful,” she hissed.

“Tell me what you know.”