>>Aelin
The stairs were cracked beneath our feet as we ascended the spiral of the forgotten tower. Every step took us deeper into the silence that had long settled here like dust. A forgotten place for a woman who would become forgotten herself.
Draegon walked ahead of me, his shoulders broad and stiff with purpose. He didn't say a word as we reached the highest landing—the door before us old and warped with time. This was the tower where Queen Darcelle had been confined. And he had chosen to come here today.
He didn't look back at me, but I followed.
The door groaned open and the cold inside was startling. I instinctively stepped closer to the warmth that always lingered around Draegon, but he had already walked inside.
The room was dimly lit, dust swirling in the shafts of sunlight cutting through narrow windows. At the center stood a tall-backed chair, its figure draped in regal purple, though faded with age and bitterness.
Queen Darcelle.
