Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass #3) by Sarah J. Maas

“I don’t see how it’s relevant to anything,” Ren said tightly. Aedion could understand pride. The kind Ren had went deep, and admitting this vulnerability was as hard for him as it was for Aedion to accept Ren’s gratitude. Ren said, “If you find out how to break the spell on magic, you’re going to do it, right?”

“Yes. It could make a difference in whatever battles lie ahead.”

“It didn’t make a difference ten years ago.” Ren’s face was a mask of ice, and then Aedion remembered. Ren hardly had a drop of magic. But Ren’s two elder sisters… The girls had been away at their mountain school when everything went to hell. A school for magic.

As if reading his thoughts, as if this were a reprieve from the city below them, Ren said, “When the soldiers dragged us to the butchering blocks, that was what they mocked my parents about. Because even with their magic, my sisters’ school was defenseless—they could do nothing against ten thousand soldiers.”

“I’m sorry,” Aedion said. That was all he could offer for the time being, until Aelin returned.

Ren looked right at him. “Going back to Terrasen will be… hard. For me, and for my grandfather.” He seemed to struggle with the words, or just with the idea of telling anyone anything, but Aedion gave him the time he needed. At last Ren said, “I’m not sure I’m civilized enough anymore. I don’t know if… if I could be a lord, even. If my people would want me as lord. My grandfather is better suited, but he’s an Allsbrook by marriage and he says he doesn’t want to rule.”

Ah. Aedion found himself actually pausing—contemplating. The wrong word, the wrong reaction, could make Ren shut up forever. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. So he said, “My life has been war and death for the past ten years. It will probably be war and death for the next few as well. But if there’s ever a day when we find peace…” Gods, that word, that beautiful word. “It’ll be a strange transition for all of us. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t see how the people of Allsbrook wouldn’t embrace a lord who spent years trying to break Adarlan’s rule—or a lord who spent years in poverty for that dream.”

“I’ve… done things,” Ren said. “Bad things.” Aedion had suspected as much from the moment Ren gave them the address of the opium den.

“So have we all,” Aedion said. So has Aelin. He wanted to say it, but he still didn’t want Ren or Murtaugh or anyone knowing a damn thing about her. It was her story to tell.

Aedion knew the conversation was about to take a turn for the ugly when Ren tensed and asked too quietly, “What do you plan to do about Captain Westfall?”

“Right now, Captain Westfall is useful to me, and useful to our queen.”

“So as soon as he’s outlived his usefulness…”

“I’ll decide that when the time comes—if it’s safe to leave him alive.” Ren opened his mouth, but Aedion added, “This is the way it has to be. The way I operate.” Even if he’d helped save Ren’s life and given him a place to stay.

“I wonder what our queen will think of the way you operate.”

Aedion flashed him a glare that had sent men running. But he knew Ren wasn’t particularly scared of him, not with what he had seen and endured. Not after Aedion had killed for him.

Aedion said, “If she’s smart, then she’ll let me do what needs to be done. She’ll use me as the weapon I am.”

“What if she wishes to be your friend? Would you deny her that, too?”

“I will deny her nothing.”

“And if she asks you to be her king?”

Aedion bared his teeth. “Enough.”

“Do you want to be king?”

Aedion swung his legs back onto the roof and stood. “All I want,” he snarled, “is for my people to be free and my queen restored to her throne.”

“They burned the antler throne, Aedion. There is no throne for her.”

“Then I’ll build one myself from the bones of our enemies.”

Ren winced as he stood as well, his injuries no doubt bothering him, and kept his distance. He might not be afraid, but he wasn’t stupid. “Answer the question. Do you want to be king?”

“If she asked me, I would not refuse her.” It was the truth.

“That’s not an answer.”

He knew why Ren had asked. Even Aedion was aware that he could be king—with his legion and ties to the Ashrvyers, he’d be an advantageous match. A warrior-king would make any foes think twice. Even before their kingdom shattered, he’d heard the rumors…

“My only wish,” Aedion said, growling in Ren’s face, “is to see her again. Just once, if that’s all the gods will allow me. If they grant me more time than that, then I’ll thank them every damn day of my life. But for now, all I’m working for is to see her, to know for certain that she’s real—that she survived. The rest is none of your concern.”

He felt Ren’s eyes on him as he vanished through the door to the apartment below.



The tavern was packed with soldiers on rotation home to Adarlan, the heat and reek of bodies making Chaol wish Aedion had done this alone. There was no hiding now that he and Aedion were drinking friends, as the general trumpeted for everyone to hear while the soldiers cheered.