Tower of Dawn (Throne of Glass #6) - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,231

the dark, Chaol at last felt it was true.

Sartaq took Duva to the khagan. Called in his brothers and sister.

Because Yrene insisted they be there. Chaol and Hafiza insisted they be there.

The khagan, in the first hint of emotion Yrene had ever seen from the man, lunged for the unconscious, bloody Duva as Sartaq limped into the hall where they’d been waiting. Viziers pressed in. Hasar let out a gasp of what Yrene could have sworn was true pain.

Sartaq did not let his father touch her. Did not let anyone but Nesryn come close as he laid Duva on a low couch.

Yrene kept a few steps back, silent and watching, Chaol at her side.

This bond between them … She could feel it, almost. Like a living band of cool, silken light flowing from her—into him.

And he truly did not seem to mind that a piece of his spine, his nerves, would retain permanent damage for as long as they lived.

Yes, he’d now be able to move his legs with limited motion, even when her magic was drained. But standing—never a possibility during those times. She supposed they’d soon learn how and when the level of her power correlated with whether he required cane or chair or neither.

But Chaol was right. Whether he stood or limped or sat … it did not change him. Who he was. She had fallen in love with him well before he’d ever stood. She would love him no matter how he moved through the world.

What if we fight? Yrene had asked him on the trek over here. What then?

Chaol had only kissed her temple. We fight all the time already. It’ll be nothing new. He’d added, Do you think I’d want to be with anyone who didn’t hand my ass to me on a regular basis?

But she’d frowned. He’d continued, And this bond between us, Yrene … it changes nothing. With you and me. You’ll need your own space; I’ll need mine. So if you think for one moment that you’re going to get away with flimsy excuses for never leaving my side—

She’d poked him in the ribs. As if I’ll want to hang around you all day like some lovesick girl!

Chaol had laughed, tucking her in tighter. But Yrene had only patted his arm and said, And I think you can take care of yourself just fine.

He’d just kissed her brow again. And that had been that.

Yrene now brushed her fingers against his, Chaol’s hand curling around her own, as Sartaq cleared his throat and held up Duva’s limp hand. To display the wedding band there. “Our sister has been enslaved by a demon sent by Perrington in the form of this ring.”

Murmurs and shifting about. Arghun spat, “Nonsense.”

“Perrington is no man. He is Erawan,” Sartaq declared, ignoring his elder brother, and Yrene realized Nesryn must have told him everything. “The Valg king.”

Still holding Yrene’s hand, Chaol added for all to hear, “Erawan sent this ring as a wedding gift, knowing Duva would put it on—knowing the demon would entrap her. On her wedding day.” They’d left the second ring at the Torre, locked within one of the ancient chests, to be disposed of later.

“The babe,” the khagan demanded, eyes on that torn-up belly, the scratches marring her neck where Hafiza had already removed the worst of the splinters.

“These are lies,” Arghun seethed. “From desperate, scheming people.”

“They are not lies,” Hafiza cut in, chin high. “And we have witnesses who will tell you otherwise. Guards, healers, and your own brother, Prince, if you will not believe us.”

To challenge the word of the Healer on High … Arghun shut his mouth.

Kashin shoved to the front of the crowd, earning a glare from Hasar as he shouldered past her. “That explains …” He peered at his sleeping sister. “She has not been the same.”

“She was the same,” Arghun snapped.

Kashin leveled a glare on his eldest brother. “If you ever deigned to spend any time with her, you would have known the differences.” He shook his head. “I thought her morose from the arranged marriage, then the pregnancy.” Grief flooded his eyes as he faced Chaol. “She did it, didn’t she? She killed Tumelun.”

A ripple of shock went through the room as all eyes fixed upon him. But Chaol instead turned to the khagan, whose face was bloodless and devastated in a way that Yrene had not yet known, and could not imagine. To lose a child, to endure this … “Yes,” Chaol said, bowing his head