Throne of Glass: short stories and exclusives

The Assassin and the Princess

This short scene takes place between the events of Throne of Glass and Crown of Midnight.

.      .      .

The midwinter day was warm enough that Celaena Sardothien didn't bother with gloves when she set out into Rifthold.

Princess Nehemia however, was thoroughly miserable. Still, she declined Celaena's repeated offers to take a carriage to the most fashionable avenue of the capital city. Traveling by carriage would only make the day go faster, the princess said. And since they'd claimed the day solely for enjoying each other's company, neither young woman was in much of a hurry to see it quickly end.

So they walked through Rifthold, dressed as finely as they could while still being warm—and remaining relatively unnoticed. They took their time crossing the city, though they had an unspoken agreement not to venture near the docks, warehouses, or anywhere they might run into any living proof of Adarlan's empire—and brutal conquest of the continent.

Having spent a year as a slave herself, and not particularly inclined to discuss the topics of slavery, war, and the general hellishness of the world, Celaena was more than happy to stick to the broad, clean streets where they could pretend to be two young women on their way to spend obscene amounts of money.

Nehemia had already toured much of the city and disliked almost all of what she'd seen, but still indulged Celaena in a detour to walk past the Royal Theater, in going into her favorite bakeries and sweet-shops, and popping into a few bookstores. Unsurprisingly, by the time they reached Kavill's, the finest clothier in Rifthold, Celaena had spent a good chunk of her monthly salary as King's Champion.

That was another topic they'd agreed to ignore for the day.

The two young women paused outside the front of the shop, and Celaena ran an eye over the gilded woodwork wreathing the glass window. Two dresses were displayed—one a somewhat traditional blue ball gown, edged with gold and splashes of turquoise; the other a daring work of red velvet, long-sleeved and accented with midnight lace.

"Kavill's," Nehemia read on the ornate shop sign swinging in the breeze off the Avery River. The princess frowned at Celaena. "It's very . . . fancy," she said in Eyllwe.

Indeed, beyond the glass and the display, Celaena could see a cluster of well-dressed women offering advice to a companion showing off a potential purchase.

Celaena hid her own frown. They were supposed to have a private appointment. Not just for the safety of the princess, whose personal guards trailed behind them, but also to put Nehemia—who hated shopping and playing dress-up and anything 'useless'—at some degree of ease.

"We're a few minutes early, I think," Celaena said. Nehemia was still frowning at the storefront. "We could pop into a tea shop if you want and—"

"No, no. My hands are frozen through," Nehemia said, her gloved fingers curling into fists. "Let's just go in and wait."

It had been a month since Celaena had been appointed King's Champion—a month during which she'd had to face all the hardships the position presented—but somehow the thought of walking into Kavill's's with an already ill-tempered Nehemia made even Celaena's nerves fray. She already pitied Lee Kavill himself . . . and the other customers inside.

"Just remember," Celaena said in Eyllwe as Nehemia walked to the green-painted door, "I'm Lillian Gordaina and I am just some—"

"Heiress in Rifthold, I know," Nehemia finished without looking back at her, and walked inside.

Celaena followed after the princess, giving Nehemia's two personal guards a nod as they moved into position: one by the storefront, the other going around the block to take up a spot by the back door. Once the appointment began, no one went in or out.