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“And in the east, slipping over the mountains like molten gold, the sun began to rise. A hundred years she'd had with Asterin. She'd always thought they'd have a hundred more. Manon said softly to Sorrel, "Turn her around. My Second shall see the dawn one last time." Sorrel obediently stepped forward, pivoting Asterin to face the High Witches, the crowd by the rail--and the rare sunrise piercing through Morath's gloom. Blood stack through the back of her Second's leathers. And yet Asterin knelt, shoulders square and head high, as she looked not at the dawn--but at Manon herself while she stalked around her Second to take a place few feet before the Matrons.” — Sarah J. Maas
And in the east, slipping over the mountains like molten gold, the sun began to rise.
A hundred years she'd had with Asterin. She'd always thought they'd have a hundred more.
Manon said softly to Sorrel, "Turn her around. My Second shall see the dawn one last time."
Sorrel obediently stepped forward, pivoting Asterin to face the High Witches, the crowd by the rail--and the rare sunrise piercing through Morath's gloom.
Blood stack through the back of her Second's leathers.
And yet Asterin knelt, shoulders square and head high, as she looked not at the dawn--but at Manon herself while she stalked around her Second to take a place few feet before the Matrons.