But Evalin Ashryver held Aelin's gaze, the softness turning hard and gleaming as fresh steel. It is the strength of this that matters, Aelin. Aelin's fingers dug into her chest as she mouthed, The strength of this. Evalin nodded. Cairn's hissed threats danced through the coffin, his knife scraping and scraping. Evalin's face didn't falter. You are my daughter. You were born of two mighty bloodlines. That strength flows through you. Lives in you. Evalin's face blazed with the fierceness of the women who had come before them, all the way back to the Faerie Queen whose eyes they both bore. You do not yield.