Sözler ve Alıntılar
“You could rattle the stars,” She whispered.
“You could do anything, if you only dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most.”
Yes, she would go—to Rifthold, to anywhere, even through the Gates of the Wyrd and into Hell itself, if it meant freedom.
Chaol’s brown eyes shone golden in the midday sun.
“Wasn’t learning to lose gracefully part of your training?”
“No,” she said sourly. “Arobynn told me that second place was just a nice title for the first loser.”
“No matter what happens,” she said quietly, “I want to thank you.”
Chaol tilted his head to the side. “For what?”
Her eyes stung, but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness. “For making my freedom mean something.”
He didn’t say anything; he just took the fingers of her right hand and held them in his, his thumb brushing the ring she wore.
“Have you named her yet?” he asked—casual, calm, collected.
“No,” she said, keeping her face neutral, even though she wanted to scream from the awkwardness. “I can’t think of anything appropriate.”
“What about,” he said, tapping his chin, “Gold … ie?”
“That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”
“Can you think of something better?”
She picked up one of the dog’s legs and examined the soft paws. She squished the padded foot beneath her thumb.
“Fleetfoot.” It was a perfect name. In fact, it felt as if the name had existed all along, and she’d finally been clairvoyant enough to stumble across it. “Yes, Fleetfoot it is.”
“Does it mean anything?” he asked, and the dog raised her head to look at him.
“It’ll mean something when she outruns all of your purebreds.” Celaena scooped the dog into her arms and kissed her head. She bounced her arms up and down, and Fleetfoot stared up into her eyes with a wrinkled brow. She was absurdly soft and cuddly.
Dorian chuckled. “We’ll see.”
Fleetfoot :)Kitabı okudu
Dorian steepled his fingers. “I have a proposition for you.”
Her chest tightened. Never, not in her most fanciful dreams,
had she imagined that the opportunity to speak with Dorian Havilliard would arise. She could kill him so easily, tear that grin from his face … She could destroy the king as he had destroyed her …
But perhaps his proposition could lead to escape. If she got beyond the wall, she could make it. Run and run and disappear into the mountains and live in solitude in the dark green of the wild, with a pine-needle carpet and a blanket of stars
overhead. She could do it. She just needed to clear the wall. She had come so close before...
“I’m listening,” was all she said.
“Names are not important. It’s what lies inside of you that matters. I know what you went through in Endovier. But you did not let the mines harden you; you did not let it shame your soul into cruelty.”
The princess traced a mark on her hand, her fingers pressing into Celaena’s skin.
“You bear many names, and so I shall name you as well.” Her hand rose to Celaena’s forehead and she drew an invisible mark.
“I name you Elentiya.” She kissed the assassin’s brow.
“I give you this name to use with honor, to use when other names grow too heavy. I name you Elentiya ‘Spirit That Could Not Be Broken.’ ”