Crown of Midnight (Throne of Glass #2)(113)

She found the nerve to turn to him, gazing up into his face. “How can you still look at me like that when you know what I truly am?”

His fingers grazed her cheeks, warming her chilled skin. “Fae, assassin—no matter what you are, I—”

“Don’t.” She stepped back. “Don’t say it.”

She couldn’t give him everything again—not now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Even if she ever learned to forgive him for picking the king over Nehemia, her journey to find the Wyrdkeys would require her to go far away, to a place where she would never ask him to follow.

“I need to prepare Archer’s body to present to the king,” she got out. Before he could say anything else, she picked up Damaris from where she’d dropped it by the door and vanished into the passage.

She waited until she was deep inside before she let the tears start flowing.

Chaol stared at where she had gone and wondered if he should follow her into that ancient darkness. But he thought of all that she’d told him, all the secrets she’d revealed, and knew he needed time to comprehend it all.

He could tell that she had left out information. She’d told him only the vaguest details; and then there was the matter of her Fae heritage. He’d never heard of anyone inheriting their powers in such a throwback way, but then again, no one spoke of the Fae nowadays. It explained how she knew the ancient dirges.

With a gentle pat on Fleetfoot’s head, he left the room. The halls were empty and silent.

And Dorian—she had acted like Dorian had some power, too. There had been the moment when the creature was blasted away by an invisible wall … But it was impossible for Dorian to have power. How could he, when Celaena’s own—own magic had disappeared as soon as she returned to this world?

Celaena was Fae, and heir to a power she couldn’t control. Even if she couldn’t shift, if anyone ever discovered what she was…

It explained why she was so terrified of the king, why she never said anything about where she’d come from, or what she’d been through. And living here … this was the most dangerous place for her—or any Fae—to be.

If someone found out what she was, they could use that information against her, or have her killed. And there would be nothing he could do to save her. No lie he could tell, no strings he could pull. How long before someone else went digging into her past? How long before someone decided to go right to Arobynn Hamel and torture him for the truth?

Chaol’s feet knew where he was going long before he’d made the choice, formed the plan. Minutes later, he found himself knocking on a wooden door.

His father’s eyes were bleary with sleep, and they narrowed as they saw him. “Do you know what time it is?”

He didn’t, and he didn’t care. Chaol shouldered his way into the room and shut the door, scanning the dimness for any other people. “I have a favor to ask you, but before I do, promise you won’t ask any questions.”

His father gave him a slightly bemused look, then crossed his arms. “No questions. Make your request.”

Beyond the window, the sky was beginning to lighten into a softer shade of black. “I think that we should send the King’s Champion to Wendlyn to dispatch the royal family.”

His father’s brows rose. Chaol went on. “We’ve been at war with them for two years, and have yet to break past their naval defenses. But if the king and his son are eliminated, we might stand a chance of getting through in the ensuing chaos. Especially if the King’s Champion also gets her hands on their naval defense plans.” He took a breath, keeping his voice disinterested. “I want to present the idea to the king this morning. And I want you to support me.”

Because Dorian would never agree to it, not without knowing what Celaena was. And Chaol would never tell anyone, Dorian included. But with an idea this drastic, he’d need as much political muscle as he could get.

“An ambitious, ruthless plan.” His father smiled. “And if I support this idea and convince my allies on the council to support it, too, then what can I expect in return?” From the way his eyes gleamed, his father already knew the answer.

“Then I will go back to Anielle with you,” Chaol said. “I will leave my position as Captain and … return home.”

It wasn’t his home, not anymore, but if it meant getting Celaena out of the country … Wendlyn was the last stronghold of the Fae, and the one place in Erilea where she’d be truly safe.

Whatever shred of hope he’d had for a future with her was gone. She still felt something for him, she’d admitted, but she would never trust him. She would always hate him for what he’d done.

But he could do this for her. Even if he never saw her again, even if she abandoned her duties as King’s Champion and stayed with the Fae in Wendlyn forever—as long as he knew that she was safe, that no one could hurt her … He’d sell his soul again and again for that.

His father’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “Consider it done.”

Chapter 53

When Celaena finished telling Dorian the story she’d told Chaol—albeit a much more limited version—he let out a long sigh and fell back onto his bed. “It sounds like something out of a book,” he said, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the other side of the bed.

“Believe me, I thought I was going mad for a while.”