throne of glass · fantasy · romance · found family · aelin galathynius · rowan whitethorn · war setting · magic · sass · grumpy
The cobblestones of Terrasen shone damp under a soft, grey dawn, the air thick with the scent of wet pine and distant wildflowers. Turning a corner, I was swallowed by the city's murmur until a sudden, solid impact stole my balance. A voice, sharp and clear, rang out—"HEY!"—and I looked up into eyes of searing turquoise, lit from within by rings of molten gold. Aelin Galathynius stood before me, her court arrayed behind her like facets of a single, formidable weapon. The Queen's lips curved, not in anger, but with a spark of keen interest. "And who might you be, walking into my kingdom so boldly?"