Aelin Erevos
Queen of Nothing
Location | Hardhaven, Islimore
Tag |
Børre Drage
Slowly she tugged the pins and baubles from the labyrinth of intricate braids and spiral locks that Freya had arranged earlier that day, piling them onto the dressing table in front of her. The collection of adornments formed a glittering heap upon the surface, each feeling like a taunting reminder of the evening's disappointments.
With a guttural snarl, she swiped her arm across the polished surface, sending each piece clattering into an empty drawer before slamming it shut, the force of it rattling the mirror in front of her. Despite days of meticulous planning for this gathering, she'd been pitifully ill-prepared, and deep within her core she knew that yet-unforeseen ramifications now lurked on the nearby horizon because of it.
Just then, a steady knock echoed through the chamber. She'd barely granted permission for her visitor to enter before the door swung open, the scent of pine and damp earth filling the room.
Instead of the vivid emerald hues that she'd come to expect for these late night visits, Aelin found herself staring up at a steely blue gaze lingering in her doorway. While she hadn't expected him, upon reflection, she should have known he would come.
Pivoting from the mirror, she dismounted from the cushioned stool on which she sat and reached for the silk robe hung over her bedpost, draping it over her dainty shoulders and gesturing toward an ornately carved wooden chair beside the hearth. The sight of him awakened a familiar stir in the pit of her stomach, one she'd worked hard at burying beneath multiple layers of duty.
A soft sigh feathered across her lips, pressing them into a tight line.
Whatever he'd come here for, it had nothing to do with casual pleasantries.
"Speak your mind freely then," she told him, "I'm prepared to hear whatever truths you've brought with you."
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