Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?
She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket. “I sent a letter—when we were at that port in Wendlyn.”
Rowan nodded. “To Aedion.”
“To Aedion,” she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn’t hear from his spot outside the door. “And to your uncle. And to Essar.”
Rowan’s brows rose. “Saying what?”
She hummed to herself. “Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while I was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans.”
Her mate went still. “With what goal in mind?”
Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails. “Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things.”
Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. “You think a letter could do that?”
“It was strongly worded.”
He gaped a bit. “What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?”
“Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things.” She swallowed. “I might have mentioned that she’s possibly Valg.”
Rowan started.
Aelin shrugged. “It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth.”
“Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true.”
She waved a hand. “We’ll see if anything comes of it.”
“If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her …” He shook his head, laughing softly. “It’d be a boon in this war.”
“I scheme and lie so grandly, and that’s all the credit I get?”
Rowan flicked her nose. “You’ll get credit if her army doesn’t show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely.” At herfrown, he said, “Essar doesn’t wield much power, and my uncle doesn’t take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve … it would be monumental. If they even survived it.”
Her stomach churned. “It’s their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts.” Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.
Rowan smirked. “And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve’s throne? Any other surprises I should know about?”
Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. “There are no more.” At his raised brows, she added, “I swear it on my throne. There are no more left.”
The amusement in his eyes guttered. “I don’t know whether to be relieved.”
“Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now.”
With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.
“Do you think you could do it again?” he asked. “Draw up that much power?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It required being … contained. With the irons.”
A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You never will again.” It was the truth.
“If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I’ll be glad not to.”