Page 418 of Kingdom of Ash

Dorian considered. “I don’t see why they couldn’t.” Something sparked in his eyes, an idea formed and then set aside. “I would be honored, actually.”

“Just don’t let them bring the wyverns home,” Hasar groused. “I never want to see another wyvern for as long as I live.”

Kashin patted her on the head. Hasar snapped her teeth at him.

Nesryn chuckled, but her smile faded as she found Dorian smiling sadly at her, too.

“I think I’m about to lose another Captain of the Guard,” the King of Adarlan said.

Nesryn bowed her head. “I …” She hadn’t anticipated having this conversation. Not right now, at least.

“But I will be glad,” Dorian went on, “to gain another queen whom I can call friend.”

Nesryn blushed. It deepened as Sartaq smirked and said, “Not queen. Empress.”

Nesryn cringed, and Sartaq laughed, Dorian with him.

Then the king embraced her tightly. “Thank you, Nesryn Faliq. For all you have done.”

Nesryn’s throat was too tight to speak, so she hugged Dorian back.

And when the king left, when Kashin and Hasar went to find an early lunch, Nesryn turned to Sartaq and cringed again. “Empress? Really?”

Sartaq’s dark eyes glittered. “We won the war, Nesryn Faliq.” He tugged her close. “And now we shall go home.”

She’d never heard such beautiful words.

Chaol stared at the letter in his hands.

It had arrived an hour ago, and he still hadn’t opened it. No, he’d just taken it from the messenger—one of the fleet of children commanded by Evangeline—and brought it back to his bedroom.

Seated on his bed, the candlelight flickering through the worn chamber, he still couldn’t bring himself to crack the red wax seal.

The doorknob twisted, and Yrene slipped in, tired but bright-eyed. “You should be sleeping.”

“So should you,” he said with a pointed look to her abdomen.

She waved him off, as easily as she’d waved off the titles ofSavior, andHero of Erilea. As easily as she waved off the awed stares, the tears, when she strode by.

So Chaol would be proud for both of them. Would tell their child of her bravery, her brilliance.

“What’s that letter?” she asked, washing her hands, then her face, in the ewer by the window. Beyond the glass, the city was silent—sleeping, after a long day of rebuilding. The wild men of the Fangs had even remained to help, an act of kindness that Chaol would ensure did not go unrewarded. Already, he had looked into where he might expand their territory—and the peace between them and Anielle.

Chaol swallowed. “It’s from my mother.”

Yrene paused, her face still dripping. “Your … Why haven’t you opened it?”

He shrugged. “Not all of us are courageous enough to take on Dark Lords, you know.”

Yrene rolled her eyes, dried her face, and plopped down on the bed beside him. “Do you want me to read it first?”

He did. Damn him, but he did. Wordlessly, Chaol handed it to her.

Yrene said nothing as she opened the sealed parchment, her golden eyes darting over the inked words. Chaol tapped a finger on his knee. After a long day of healing, he knew better than to try to pace. Had barely made it back here with the cane before he’d sunk to the bed.

Yrene put a hand to her throat as she turned the page, read the back.

When she lifted her head again, tears slid down her cheeks. She handed him the letter. “You should read it yourself.”

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