Queen Of Glass

Chapter 17

Chaol Wydrael paced in the halls of the north wing of the palace. He had been stalking up and down the marble- floored hallway for the past half of an hour, unable to make up his mind.
If he went forward, he neared her rooms; if he went in the other direction, he headed away from them. Reaching one end of the hallway, he ran his hands through his brown hair and turned on his heel, walking in the direction that he had just come from. Chaol was thankful that he had dismissed the guards from her door—it would not do for them to see their captain acting like such a fool.
It had been eight days since he had last spoken to her; seven days since he had last seen her; and in the six days that he had been completely without her, Chaol had to admit that he missed her company.
She was a fascinating woman—but a dangerous one. Her fell past and profession were part of her allure, but as Captain of the Royal Guard, he had to keep that a barrier between them. Chaol knew that it hurt her to be treated with such distance, which was partially why he was pacing down her hallway.
At first he had been amused by her anger, but after he had seen her purposefully ignore him that day in the garden, Chaol had taken it a bit more seriously. He hadn't thought that an Adarlan's assassin could possibly be offended or hurt by his behavior—she had to realize that it was necessary to take such precautions with a girl of her...reputation.
Chaol knew how much the prospect of freedom meant to her—he knew what it had been like for her in the mines. She would never try to do anything stupid while staying at the palace. He trusted her, for the most part...but the duties that had been assigned to him by the king came first.
However, Dorian had encouraged him to go apologize to her—in fact, the Crown Prince had come near to commanding him to. Chaol Wydrael's own shyness had caused him to refuse at first, but after Dorian had laughed at him for being so ridiculous (for it was only her), Chaol's pride had caused him to storm up to her rooms.

Here I am, he thought to himself. And I'm still acting like a fool—just go in there and apologize! Chaol gritted his teeth as he reached the end of the hallway. Would she even listen to him? He had to take the chance—it would not do to have Adarlan's assassin mad at him.
He was about to turn around when someone walked by him. As her chambers were the only ones at the end of this hallway, he knew where the figure was headed. Chaol spun around and looked at the figure, startled, but not surprised, at who he saw.
Roland DeHavilliard.
Chaol followed after the boy, his hand resting upon the pommel of his sword. Roland stopped at her door and raised a hand to knock.
"What do you think you're doing?" Chaol asked, leaning casually against the marble wall beside the door. Roland looked at him, surprise written across his face. Not even the youth's good ears had been able to hear Chaol approaching.
Surprise turned into a sly look and Roland smirked at the young lord. "Just visiting," he said.
"Visit somewhere else, Roland," Chaol said bluntly. Unlike Dorian, Chaol read Roland's character clearly. He was a sniveling, conceited, and disrespectful boy who treated his horses better than his women. He had always been so, but now he had become just like every male in court.
Roland lowered his hand and faced Chaol. "Tell me," he said, "has Dorian sent you to guard the Lady Lithaen or are you her lover?"
Chaol, normally calm and reserved in situations like these, felt his temper rising. Assassin or not, no woman should have to deal with Roland DeHavilliard. "The Lady Lithaen belongs to no one but herself," he said calmly.
"Just answer the question, Lord Chaol." Roland knew of Chaol's past...as many of the DeHavilliard family did, and occasionally used it to mock him either behind his back or to his face. Soldiers were not looked well upon by those who did not condescend to fight for their riches.
"She is neither my nor Dorian's lover. The Lady Lithaen is a guest here, visiting from—"
"Why do you keep her locked up?"
"That's none of your business."
Roland exaggerated a sigh and put a hand on the doorknob. "Well, if you won't tell me, I guess I'll have to go find out for myself."
Chaol put a hand against the wooden door and stared at Roland, his green eyes glowing like wisps of flame. "Keep away from her," he snarled.
"Who are you to tell me what to do? You gave up your title, remember? The Captain of the Guard has no power over me, though I'm sure that the Baron Wydrael would have," Roland sneered, and let his hand drop to the handle of his rapier.
If the door hadn't opened at that moment, Chaol probably would have run the youth through with his sword. They both moved away from the doorway, their faces trying to hide their boiling tempers as Celaena Sardothien popped her head out, her long hair falling in a wave. Assassin or not, she was still a lady and protocol required that she not see the quarrel that was written across their faces.
She stepped out into the doorway, clothed in her undergarments, as usual. Chaol couldn't help but show his anger as he saw Roland's eyes travel across her body. His grip on his sword tightened.
"Is there something the—" she halted her words when her eyes fell upon their dark faces. She winced and stepped back into her rooms, nodding her head as she began to close the door. Chaol put his foot in the door, preventing her