Heir of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

remained as he stopped before the high table and sketched a bow shallow enough that Chaol was momentarily stunned. “Majesty,” the general said, those damning eyes alight.
    Chaol looked at the high table to see if the king, if anyone, noticed the similarities that could doom not only Aedion but also Chaol and Dorian and everyone he cared about. His father just gave him a small, satis fi ed smile.
    But the king was frowning. “I expected you a month ago.”
    Aedion actually had the nerve to shrug. “Apologies. Th e Staghorns ­were slammed with a fi nal winter storm. I le ft when I could.”
    Every person in the hall held their breath. Aedion’s temper and insolence ­were near-­legendary—part of the reason he was stationed in the far reaches of the North. Chaol had always thought it wise to keep him far from Ri ft hold, especially as Aedion seemed to be a bit of a two-­faced bastard, and the Bane—­Aedion’s legion—­was notorious for its skill and brutality, but now . . . why had the king summoned him to the capital?
    Th e king picked up his goblet, swirling the wine inside. “I didn’t receive word that your legion was ­here.”
    â€œ Th ey’re not.”
    Chaol braced for the execution order, praying he ­wouldn’t be the one to do it. Th e king said, “I told you to bring them, General.”
    â€œHere I was, thinking you wanted the plea­sure of my company.” When the king growled, Aedion said, “ Th ey’ll be ­here within a week or so. I didn’t want to miss any of the fun.” Aedion again shrugged those massive shoulders. “At least I didn’t come empty-­handed.” He snapped his fi ngers behind him and a page rushed in, bearing a large satchel. “Gi ft s from the North, courtesy of the last rebel camp we sacked. You’ll enjoy them.”
    Th e king rolled his eyes and waved a hand at the page. “Send them to my chambers. Your gi ft s , Aedion, tend to o ff end polite company.” A low chuckle—­from Aedion, from some men at the king’s table. Oh, Aedion was dancing a dangerous line. At least Celaena had the good sense to keep her mouth shut around the king.
    Considering the trophies the king had collected from Celaena as Champion, the items in that satchel ­wouldn’t be mere gold and jewels. But to collect heads and limbs from Aedion’s own people, Celaena’s people . . .
    â€œI have a council meeting tomorrow; ­I want you there, General,” the king said.
    Aedion put a hand on his chest. “Your will is mine, Majesty.”
    Chaol had to clamp down on his terror as he beheld what glinted on Aedion’s fi nger. A black ring—­the same that the king, Perrington, and most of those under their control wore. Th at explained why the king allowed the insolence: when it came down to it, the king’s will truly was Aedion’s.
    Chaol kept his face blank as the king gave him a curt nod—­dismissal. Chaol silently bowed, now all too eager to get back to his table. Away from the king—­from the man who held the fate of their world in his bloodied hands. Away from his father, who saw too much. Away from the general, who was now making his rounds through the hall, clapping men on the shoulder, winking at women.
    Chaol had mastered the horror roiling in his gut by the time he sank back into his seat and found Dorian frowning. “Gi ft s indeed,” the prince muttered. “Gods, he’s insu ff erable.”
    Chaol didn’t disagree. Despite the king’s black ring, Aedion still seemed to have a mind of his own—­and was as wild o ff the battle fi eld as he was on it. He usually made Dorian look like a celibate when it came to fi nding debauched ways to amuse himself. Chaol had never spent much time with Aedion, nor wanted to, but Dorian had known him for some time now. Since—
    Th ey’d met as