Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass #7) by Sarah J. Maas

He’d heeded that warning from Kaltain, at least. He hadn’t dared venture into the caverns beyond the valley. To the stone altars and the monstrosities Erawan crafted upon them.

He asked, “You never had children? With Orcus?”

“Does my future husband truly wish to know?”

Dorian settled back on his heels. “I wish to understand my enemy.”

She weighed his words. “I did not allow my body to ripen, to ready for children. A small rebellion, and my first, against Orcus.”

“Are the Valg princes and princesses the offspring of the other kings?”

“Some are, some are not. No worthy heir has stepped forward. Though who knows what has occurred in their world in these millennia.” Their world. Not her own. “The princes Erawan summoned have not been strong—not as they were. I am certain it annoys Erawan to no end.”

“Which is why he has brought over the princesses?”

A nod. “The females are the deadliest. But harder to contain within a host.”

The white band of skin on his neck seemed to burn, but he kept his stomach down: this time. “Why did you leave your world?”

She blinked at him, as if surprised.

“What?” he asked.

She angled her head. “It has been a long, long time since I conversed with someone who knows me for what I am. And with someone whose mind remained wholly their own.”

“Even Aelin?”

A muscle in her slim jaw feathered. “Even Aelin of the Wildfire. I could not infiltrate her mind entirely, but little things … those, I could convince her to see.”

“Why did you capture and torture her?” Such a simple way of describing what had happened in Eyllwe and after it.

“Because she would never agree to work with me. And she would never have protected me from Erawan or the Valg.”

“You’re strong—why not protect yourself? Use those spiders to your advantage?”

“Because our kind only fears certain gifts. Mine, alas, are not those things.” She toyed with a strand of her black hair. “I usually keep another Fae female with me. One who has powers that work against the Valg. Different from those Aelin Galathynius possesses.” That she didn’t specify what those powers were told Dorian not to waste his breath in asking her. “She swore the blood oath to me long ago, and has rarely left my side since. But I did not dare bring her to Morath. To have her here would not have convinced Erawan that I came in good faith.” She twirled the strand of hair around a finger. “So you see, I am as defenseless against Erawan as you.”

Dorian highly doubted that, but he rose to his feet at last, aiming for the table where water and food had been laid out. A fine spread, for a demon king’s castle in the dead of winter. He poured himself a glass of water and gulped down the contents. “Is this Erawan’s true form?”

“In a manner of speaking. We are not like the human and Fae, where your souls are invisible, unseen. Our souls have a shape to them. We have bodies that we can fashion around them—adorn them, like jewelry. The form you see on Erawan was always his preferred decoration.”

“What do your souls look like beneath?”

“You would find them displeasing.”

He suppressed a shudder.

“I suppose that makes us shape-shifters, too,” Maeve mused as Dorian aimed for the chair beside hers. He’d spent his nights sleeping on the floor before the fire, one eye watching the queen dozing in the canopied bed behind him. But she had made no move to harm him. Not one.

“Do you feel Valg, or Fae?”

“I am what I am.” For a heartbeat, he could almost glimpse the weight of her eons of existence in her eyes.

“But who do you wish to be?” A careful question.

“Not like Erawan. Or his brothers. I never have.”

“That’s not exactly an answer.”

“Do you know who and what you wish to be?” A challenge—and genuine question.

“I’m figuring it out,” he said. Strange. So strange, to have this conversation. Sparing them both for the time being, Dorian rubbed at his face. “The key is in his tower. I’m sure of it.”

Maeve’s mouth tightened.

Dorian said, “There is no way in—not with the guards. And I’ve flown the exterior enough to know there are no windows, no cracks for me to even creep through.” He held her otherworldly stare. Did not shrink from it. “We need to get in. If only to confirm that it’s there.” She’d once held the keys—she knew what they felt like. That she had come so close then …

“And I suppose you expect me to do that?”

He crossed his arms. “I can think of no one else that Erawan would admit inside.”

Maeve’s solitary blink was her only sign of surprise. “To seduce and betray a king—one of the oldest tricks in the book, as you humans say.”

“Can Erawan be seduced by anyone?”

He could have sworn disgust flitted over her pale face before she said, “He can.”



They did not waste time. Did not wait.

And even Dorian found himself unable to look away as Maeve flicked a hand at herself and her purple gown melted away, replaced by a sheer, flowing black dress. Little more than a robe. Golden thread had been woven through it, artfully concealing the parts of her that only the one who removed the garment would see, and when she turned from the mirror, her face was grave.