“But you’re alive,” the prince said to her. Celaena’s smile faded as the memory struck her. “Yes.”
“What happened?” Dorian asked. Her eyes turned cold and hard. “I snapped.”
“That’s all you have to offer as an explanation for what you did?”
Captain Westfall demanded. “She killed her overseer and twenty- three sentries before they caught her. She was a finger’s tip from the wall before the guards knocked her unconscious.”
“So?” Dorian said. Celaena seethed. “So? Do you know how far the wall is from the mines?” He gave her a blank look. She closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “From my shaft, it was three hundred sixty- three feet. I had
someone mea sure.” “So?” Dorian repeated.
“Captain Westfall, how far do slaves make it from the mines when
they try to escape?”
“Three feet,” he muttered. “Endovier sentries usually shoot a man down before he’s moved three feet.”
The Crown Prince’s silence was not her desired effect. “You knew it was suicide,” he said at last, the amusement gone.
Perhaps it had been a bad idea for her to bring up the wall. “Yes,”
she said. “But they didn’t kill you.” “Your father ordered that I was to be kept alive for as long as possible—to endure the misery that Endovier gives in abundance.” A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature went through her. “I
never intended to escape.” Th e pity in his eyes made her want to hit him. “Do you bear many scars?” asked the prince. She shrugged and he smiled, forcing the mood to lift as he stepped from the dais. “Turn around, and let me view your back.” Celaena frowned, but obeyed as he walked to her, Chaol stepping closer. “I can’t make them outclearly through all this dirt,” the prince said, inspecting what skin showed through the scraps of her shirt. She scowled, and scowled even
more when he said, “And what a terrible stench, too!”
“But you’re alive,” the prince said to her. Celaena’s smile faded as the memory struck her. “Yes.”“What happened?” Dorian asked. Her eyes turned cold and hard. “I snapped.”“That’s all you have to offer as an explanation for what you did?”Captain Westfall demanded. “She killed her overseer and twenty- three sentries before they caught her. She was a finger’s tip from the wall before the guards knocked her unconscious.”“So?” Dorian said. Celaena seethed. “So? Do you know how far the wall is from the mines?” He gave her a blank look. She closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “From my shaft, it was three hundred sixty- three feet. I hadsomeone mea sure.” “So?” Dorian repeated.“Captain Westfall, how far do slaves make it from the mines whenthey try to escape?”“Three feet,” he muttered. “Endovier sentries usually shoot a man down before he’s moved three feet.”The Crown Prince’s silence was not her desired effect. “You knew it was suicide,” he said at last, the amusement gone.Perhaps it had been a bad idea for her to bring up the wall. “Yes,”she said. “But they didn’t kill you.” “Your father ordered that I was to be kept alive for as long as possible—to endure the misery that Endovier gives in abundance.” A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature went through her. “Inever intended to escape.” Th e pity in his eyes made her want to hit him. “Do you bear many scars?” asked the prince. She shrugged and he smiled, forcing the mood to lift as he stepped from the dais. “Turn around, and let me view your back.” Celaena frowned, but obeyed as he walked to her, Chaol stepping closer. “I can’t make them outclearly through all this dirt,” the prince said, inspecting what skin showed through the scraps of her shirt. She scowled, and scowled evenmore when he said, “And what a terrible stench, too!”
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