Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

24

Connall pursed his lips. 'Just as I thought. All bark, no bite: Time to quit bitching, girl.' And perhaps this male did have some sort of manners, for he said barely a heartbeat later, 'You fought well for your kind.' There was no stiffness in the praise.

Enya's breathing was slightly laboured, her ears pink from exertion (and possibly humiliation, to which Celaena secretly felt happy about). It was futile, Celaena knew, to challenge a Fae warrior and expect to win. They were seasoned beyond imagination.

She glanced at Rowan. Whatever he made of the scene before him, he made no comment, expression revealing nothing, either.

'I expect we'll be fighting, too?'

Rowan raised a stony half-smile. 'No.'

Her heart plummeted.

'You have magic. So you're going to learn how to use it.'

~

Rowan dragged the girl away further from the fortress into a clearing littered with pine needles and crisp-mud debris. She hesitated, but he growled at her, and she followed, mustering the audacity to roll her eyes.

A silence settled like a blanket as he walked - and the girl struggled to catch up. When she had, she asked, 'So - princeling, huh?'

Rowan ignored her. But the princess wasn't easily put off, and she persisted again, cocking her head, eyes half-curious and half-taunting, 'You must be very important to Maeve if she's put you on nurse duty.'

'Watch your tongue.' His nostrils flared and the girl grinned smugly. He said nothing else as she continued to watch him closely, then he finally let out an exasperated breath. 'Princess, considering your history, one would make sure you'd have the best to keep you in order.'

Her reply came, swift and rude. 'Someone should put you in line.'

He'd been aware of her mannerisms long before he'd met her, but hadn't expected such bluntness from the timid way she'd been conducting herself since her arrival in Wendlyn

A laugh almost slipped from his lips. Who was she to threaten him? His control was slowly being torn apart, but he forced himself to give a bland smile. 'If you mastered your magic, Aelin, you could try to do that yourself.'

Aelin huffed, eyes gleaming with annoyance. So, she didn't like that name.

Foolish, stupid girl. She was the princess whom everyone was counting on to lead this upcoming war against the king - yet her current behaviour portrayed her as nothing more than a brat.

'Well, the best, are you? Parading round the woods doesn't seem to show much talent. The only thing I've seen is your arrogance.'

Have you seen yourself? He bit down hard on the reply. There was no need to respond to her jibes with the same childish attitude. 'I've fought on killing fields before your parents were even born.'

'What is there to fight besides the birds and beasts?'

A pause. He swung his head to stare at her, eyes boring into hers for so long Aelin began to fidget uncomfortably. 'The world is big and dangerous, girl. Don't think you've faced it all yet. Be grateful you even have a chance to train; to prove yourself.' His face was expressionless, but his eyes were hard, and she bristled, just like he'd wanted her to.

Her mouth tightened. There was a second of silence, then, with malice glittering in every word, she spat, 'Fae like you make me understand the King of Adarlan's actions a bit more, I think.'

He struck her.

One moment she was facing him, teeth bared. He watched her collide cheek-first into a tree trunk, noting that last-second manoeuvre of twisting her torso to avoid the worst of the blow. But she still turned back to Rowan, forcing her groaning jaw to form a simpering smile.