To the Stars | Throne of Glass

81

After the ball had ended, Celaena exchanged a few words with Ben in the cab, continuing to converse even as they mounted the stairs to the mansion. They hadn't even reached the staircase, though, when Arobynn appeared.

'Ben. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to talk alone with Celaena.'

Odd. Ben nodded, and she turned to give him a tight squeeze. It was a natural gesture now.

Arobynn and Ben were still friends, and very good ones at that, but Celaena could see the rivalry and jealousy that sparked between them as Celaena withdrew from Ben's arms. She huffed once, and Arobynn broke his hard stare from Ben's.

As they walked, the route strangely familiar to her, realisation began to dawn on Celaena. Arobynn stopped by a door. 'Is it at all that hard to believe? Ten minutes, and I'll see you back here.'

Ten minutes later, dressed in a long, white-silk gown with thin straps as sleeves, Celaena slipped under the down covers of the four poster bed which lay in the centre of the room. Arobynn was silent as he strolled into the room, smiling.

'Goodnight, Arobynn,' she said before he could attempt any talk.

He chuckled, and drew the covers. She tried not to pay attention to the warmth that his body radiated, nor when he ever-so-slightly shifted towards her. 'Goodnight, my dear.'

~

It was nothing like sleeping with Ben. Ben and Celaena were friends. With Arobynn, there was a territorial sense to this, a dangerous feeling that made her neck prickle with unease.

Arobynn though, didn't seem to be at all concerned; he was already asleep, auburn hair spilling onto his pillow. Celaena didn't dare turn her back from him though, not for a second. She gripped the hilt of the knife under her pillow hard, eyes never straying from the panes of Arobynn's cruel, handsome face.

~

Arobynn slept soundly that night. Celaena awoke with a pounding headache from the few hours' rest she received. Eventually, exhaustion had won over wariness.

It was Arobynn's hand running through her hair that had woken her up. Like a fool, she'd relaxed with Arobynn next to her. And when his fingers brushed her cheek, she was up, knife clutched in hand.

Grey eyes, quicksilver in the dawn light, met hers. Amusement - there was amusement there. 'Don't,' Celaena said, 'do that. I would've stabbed you.'

He raised a brow smoothly. 'Really? Celaena, I think it would be you with the knife in your gut.' He placed a hand atop the one that held the blade, and leaned in. The scent of almonds danced around them. And just when she thought he was going to... well...

He pulled back. 'Don't let your guard down.'

Biting back a snort at her own idiocy, she dragged a hand through her hair, gaze never leaving Arobynn's.

'Get out of bed soon; we have a meeting after breakfast.'

Celaena lay back onto her pillow. 'Alright.'

Arobynn was already dressed - and she was glad for that. He began to stride for the door. At the last moment, he turned and said with a classic, deadly smile, 'And don't be late.'

~

She wasn't late.

Again, there were only seven of the eight seats occupied in the council room - Gregori present this time. Though it had been well over a year since that unfortunate incident, his skin remained a deathly-pale shade whiter than usual, lips never regaining their colour, and he looked as if he was about to collapse unconscious at any moment. He glared at Celaena with an intense ferocity that suggested, despite his appearance, he was still dangerous enough.

She ignored his and refrained the urge to drum her fingers on the wooden table as she waited for Arobynn to speak.

'Mordecai is dead.'

Murmurs broke out before he finished speaking.

'How?' Tern demanded. Arobynn only stared at her, and didn't answer the assassin. 'How,' he repeated.

Arobynn's eyes finally turned to Tern, and he seemed to shrink away slightly at the ice in the former's gaze. 'Anyone who tries anything with Celaena will die.'

It was a barely hushed comment, yet everyone felt the threat, as real as if invisible claws were pricking the air, ready to- ready to kill, if need be.

She knew none of the men in the room would try anything with Ben and Arobynn present, however, she still eyed Gregori, Tern and Mullin - Tern in particular.

'Mordecai is dead,' Arobynn said again. 'So welcome to our newest member.'

The door creaked open - grand entrances as always, as Arobynn loved to see the shock on their faces.

But Celaena wasn't amazed nor pleased in the slightest as Sam Cortland stepped into the light.

'Him?' she snarled to Arobynn. He chuckled at the incredulity and disbelief written across her face as she wrapped her fingers and squeezed so tightly on the hilts of the blades that her knuckles went moon-white.

'Sit, Sam.' Arobynn gestured to Mordecai's seat.

Sam curled his lips in disdain at Celaena. She returned the look. Of course Arobynn would choose him to replace the previous bastard.

She supposed Sam was alright, really. She'd known him longest since joining the Guild, and trained the most with him, too - but that didn't stop her from hating him sometimes. She knew what he thought of her, too.

~

Politics, as usual, was the main subject of discussion. Adarlan's empire, the ministers and Lord so-and-so; towards the end, Celaena was so sure that Sam was also bored to death from the way he kept glancing to the door.

'-heard they've built a sister camp to Endovier,' Lothaire was saying.

'You've only just heard about that now?' Mullin sneered.

Celaena felt an instant rush of desire to defend Lothaire. Arobynn gave a subtle shake of his head to warn her not to interfere - he was fine. And the old man carried on, dismissing Mullin with an audacity that Celaena admired. But what he said next-

'Calaculla was built in Eyllwe - rumoured to be worse than Endovier. One in the mountains, one in the desert. Slaves never last more than a coupla' months there, s'said to only last a few weeks. Come from Eyllwe and Terrasen, they do.'

It was hard to breathe. From Terrasen. If they hadn't escaped the slaughter, or the mines, then who else had survived?

Tern said with a pompous air, 'Rebels, wielders, and who knows what are sent there.'

'Shut it,' she growled at him.

'They mine salt for hours on end. And they use whips too,' Tern jeered, seeing the distressed look on Celaena's face. 'If they don't work hard enough, they're beaten.'

'I said shut it,' she snapped.

Tension crackled in the air, and Celaena glared at the dumpy man. Arobynn clicked his tongue, lazily, almost - though she knew he was ready to stop any oncoming fray - and Tern sat back, folding his arms across his chest, throwing a serpentine smile in her direction.

He looked like a idiot.

Sam and Gregori had said nothing, but it was all the better. 'Slave trade,' Mullin continued, 'could be considered-'

Celaena slammed her palm onto the table, standing abruptly. Her chair screeched against the stone, and the man fell silent.

Everyone stared as she raked a cold gaze over the seated assassins, pushing down hard on her agitation.

They mustn't - couldn't see how their words affected her.

Arobynn began to rise to his feet, but Celaena had already barrelled past Tern, and stormed outside.

So much for concealing emotions.