Gavriel Throne Of Glass 소설 & 이야기

Her last few words stayed with me: "Ethan, I love you and believe in you, and even if I had to come back to life a thousand times, I would choose you, and if we are ever reborn, come find me and know that I am always waiting for you. Those words hit me hard—and then she vanishes. The battlefield dissolves, and suddenly, I’m standing in the grand throne hall of the palace I used to call home. The golden walls shimmer in the sunlight, banners of Ether proudly hanging above the court. My father, King Gainos, is on his throne—strong and noble, his armor still showing the signs of battle. His crown shines like firelight, and next to him is my grandmother, Queen Dowager Lunice, regal and icy, her

Old magic, meant to deter or disorient trespassers. The world around me melted. The rocks, the trees, the distant peaks—all dissolved into a blinding, white marble hall. It was a throne room, vast and empty. And there he was. Damon. But not my Damon. This one sat on a throne of glittering, fused crystal—the complete Holy Grail. He wore robes of absolute black, and his expression was one of glacial, detached power. In his hand, he casually held a smaller, glowing shard, the final piece.

"Leon... I'll come find you in the main hall right away. Mm... I missed you, too." After hanging up, she shot me a vicious glare. "Just wait. I'm not done with you yet." The door slammed shut behind her. I lowered my head and stared at the outfit for a long moment before slowly putting it on. The old scar across my collarbone peeked through the revealing neckline of the costume. I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover it. It was useless. The banquet was being held in the villa's back garden. I carried a three-tier champagne tower out through the side entrance. The thing weighed nearly twenty pounds, and the old injury in my arm was already throbbing again.

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

“Most are not me.” A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “You are the queen who destroyed the Moonborn Throne.” “I am,” she confirmed. “And you are?” He studied her for a moment before answering. “Lord Gavriel of Vaeloria.” Vaeloria. A neighboring kingdom, known more for its naval strength than its land forces. They had never openly opposed her kingdom, but they had never sworn loyalty either. Lillian took a slow breath. “Are you here as an enemy, or do you come to negotiate?”

And there it stood. The Blood Throne. It was carved from obsidian, veins of red crystal pulsing through it like a beating heart. The floor was cracked around it, as though the throne had erupted from the earth. Before it knelt a man. Or what was left of one. He was bone and ash wrapped in black robes. His hair was silver, his skin like charred marble. He did not look up—he only whispered in a language none of them understood. Aelin whimpered. “He’s trying to bind to me. To make me sit.”

The goblet shattered in his hand, but he didn’t so much as flinch at the sting of glass piercing his palm. Crimson wine ran down his fingers like blood, dripping onto the obsidian armrest of his throne. The air thickened, oppressive, charged with his fury. He leaned forward slowly, claws digging deep into the throne’s armrests until cracks spider-webbed through the black stone. His eyes glowed faintly, a savage light burning within them, the kind of fire that promised ruin to anyone foolish enough to stand against him.

Standing in front of the raised dais of the throne was King Tobias, his son, Prince Leonidas, and the Royal Beta, Malcolm, all three of them dressed richly and wearing looks of cold indifference. I stepped through the doorway, with two other Alphas flanking me, their betas and Dave just behind us, and a collective gasp went through the room, all eyes drawing to the glass window behind the throne. What had been clear glass before was now becoming stained glass. The deep blues and purples and greens and reds returned to the masterpiece, restoring it to how it had been, how each of us had seen it represented in our history books. It started slowly, from the edges of the masterpiece, the colors