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

Triumphant. But only in some regards.

One threat defeated. The other fumbled.

Aelin had hid it well, but the queen had her tells, too. Her utter stillness—the predatory angle of her head. The former had been present this morning. Utter stillness while she’d been questioned, criticized, shouted at.

The queen had not been this quiet since the day she’d escaped Maeve.

And it was not trauma that bowed her head, but guilt. Dread. Shame.

Nearly shoulder-deep in the high, long tubs, Elide had been the one to suggest a bath. To give Prince Rowan a chance to fly high and wide and take some of the edge off his temper. To give Aelin a moment to settle herself.

She’d planned to bathe this morning anyway. Though she’d imagined a different partner in the bath beside hers.

Not that Lorcan knew that. He’d only kissed her temple before striding off into the morning—to join Fenrys and Gavriel in readying the army to move out. Keep plunging northward.

Aelin scrubbed at her long hair, the flowing mass of it draped over her body. In the light of the braziers, the tattoos on the queen’s back seemed to flow like a living black river.

“So your magic is still there?” Elide blurted.

Aelin slid turquoise eyes over to her. “Is your water warm?”

Elide snorted, dragging her fingers through the water. “Yes.”

“You wish to know how much, exactly.”

“Am I allowed to know?”

“I wasn’t lying in the meeting,” Aelin said, voice still hollow. She’d stood there and taken every shouted question from Princess Hasar, every frown of disapproval from Prince Sartaq. “It’s …” She lifted her arms, and positioned her hands in the air above each other, a foot of space between them. “Here’s where the bottom was before,” she said, wriggling her lower fingers. She lifted her bottom hand until it hovered two inches from her top hand. “Here’s where it is now.”

“You’ve tested it?”

“I can feel it.” Those turquoise eyes, despite all she’d done, were heavy. Solemn. “I’ve never felt a bottom before. Felt it without having to look for it.” Aelin dunked her sudsy scalp in the water, scrubbing free the bubbles and oils. “Not so impressive, is it?”

“I never cared if you had magic or not.”

“Why? Everyone else did.” A flat question. Yes, when they’d been children, so many had feared what manner of power Aelin possessed. What she’d grow into.

“Who you are isn’t your magic,” Elide said simply.

“Isn’t it?” Aelin rested her head on the back of the tub. “I liked my magic. Loved it.”

“And being human?” Elide knew she shouldn’t have dared ask, but it slipped out.

Aelin glanced sidelong at her. “Am I still human, deep down, without a human body to possess?”

Elide considered. “I suppose you’re the only person who can decide that.”

Aelin hummed, dunking under the water again.

When she emerged, Elide asked, “Are you afraid? Of facing Erawan in battle?”

Aelin hugged her knees, her tattoo flexing across her back. She was quiet for a long while.

“I am afraid of not reaching Orynth in time,” she said at last. “If Erawan chooses to drag his carcass up there to fight me, I’ll deal with it then.”

“And Maeve? What if she arrives with Erawan, too?”

But Elide knew the answer. They would die. All of them.

There had to be some way—some way to defeat both of them. She supposed Anneith would be of no help now. And perhaps it was time for her to rely upon herself anyway. Even if the timing could have been far better.

“So many questions, Lady of Perranth.”

Elide blushed, and reached for the soap, scrubbing her arms down. “Sorry.”

“Do you now see why I didn’t have you take the blood oath?”

“The Fae males challenge you all the time.”

“Yes, but I like having you not bound to me.” A soft sigh. “I didn’t plan for any of this.”

“For what?”

“To survive the Lock. The gate. To actually have to … rule. To live. I’m in uncharted territory, it seems.”

Elide considered. Then pulled the golden ring from her finger. Silba’s ring—not Mala’s.

“Here,” she said, extending the ring between their tubs, suds dripping off her fingers.

Aelin blinked at the ring. “Why?”

“Because between the two of us, you’re more likely to face Erawan or Maeve.”

Aelin didn’t reach for it. “I’d rather you keep it.”

“And I’d rather you have it,” Elide challenged, holding the queen’s stare. She asked softly, “Haven’t you given enough, Aelin? Won’t you let one of us do something for you?”

Aelin glanced down to the ring. “I failed. You realize that, don’t you?”

“You put the keys back in the gate. That is not failure. And even if you had failed in that, I would give this ring to you.”

“I owe it to your mother to see that you survive this.”

Elide’s chest tightened. “You owe it to my mother to live, Aelin.” She leaned closer, practically pushing the ring into Aelin’s face. “Take it. If not for me, then for her.”