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“It might have looked beautiful, had she not known what corruption and filth dwelt within it. And what monstrosity ruled over it all.”
― Throne of Glass
― Throne of Glass
“She faced Chaol. The wind ripped a few strands of hair from her braid, and she tucked them behind her ears.
“No matter what happens,” she said quietly, “I want to thank you.”
Chaol tilted his head to the side. “For what?” Her eyes stung, but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness.
“For making my freedom mean something.” He didn’t say anything; he just took the fingers of her right hand and held them in his, his thumb brushing the ring she wore.
“Let the second duel commence,” the king boomed, waving a hand toward the veranda. Chaol squeezed her hand, his skin warm in the frigid air.
“Give him hell,” he said.”
―
“No matter what happens,” she said quietly, “I want to thank you.”
Chaol tilted his head to the side. “For what?” Her eyes stung, but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness.
“For making my freedom mean something.” He didn’t say anything; he just took the fingers of her right hand and held them in his, his thumb brushing the ring she wore.
“Let the second duel commence,” the king boomed, waving a hand toward the veranda. Chaol squeezed her hand, his skin warm in the frigid air.
“Give him hell,” he said.”
―
“Wasn't learning to lose gracefully part of your training?"
"No," she said sourly. "Arobynn told me that second place was just a nice title for the first loser.”
― Throne of Glass
"No," she said sourly. "Arobynn told me that second place was just a nice title for the first loser.”
― Throne of Glass
“With each day, he felt the barriers melting. He let them melt. Because of her genuine laugh, because he caught her one afternoon sleeping with her face in the middle of a book, because he knew that she would win.
She was a criminal—a prodigy at killing, a Queen of the Underworld—and yet . . . yet she was just a girl, sent at seventeen to Endovier.
It made him sick every time he thought about it. He’d been training with the guards at seventeen, but he’d still lived here, still had a roof over his head and good food and friends.
Dorian had been in the middle of courting Rosamund when he was that age, not caring about anything.
But she—at seventeen—had gone to a death camp. And survived.
He wasn’t sure if he could survive Endovier, let alone during the winter months. He’d never been whipped, never seen anyone die. He’d never been cold and starving.
Celaena laughed at something Dorian said. She’d survived Endovier, and yet could still laugh.
While it terrified him to see her down there, a hand’s breadth from Dorian’s unprotected throat, what terrified him even more was that he trusted her. And he didn’t know what that meant about himself.”
― Throne of Glass
She was a criminal—a prodigy at killing, a Queen of the Underworld—and yet . . . yet she was just a girl, sent at seventeen to Endovier.
It made him sick every time he thought about it. He’d been training with the guards at seventeen, but he’d still lived here, still had a roof over his head and good food and friends.
Dorian had been in the middle of courting Rosamund when he was that age, not caring about anything.
But she—at seventeen—had gone to a death camp. And survived.
He wasn’t sure if he could survive Endovier, let alone during the winter months. He’d never been whipped, never seen anyone die. He’d never been cold and starving.
Celaena laughed at something Dorian said. She’d survived Endovier, and yet could still laugh.
While it terrified him to see her down there, a hand’s breadth from Dorian’s unprotected throat, what terrified him even more was that he trusted her. And he didn’t know what that meant about himself.”
― Throne of Glass
“He felt as if there were something inside him that didn't fit in with their merriment, with their willing ignorance of the world outside the castle.”
― Throne of Glass
― Throne of Glass
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