Chaol Westfall, Former Captain of the Guard
Chaol reached his hand up to push the hood of his cloak from his head. Safe inside, he no longer needed to maintain his disguise. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Chaol continued into the apartment, his fingers scratching the skin beneath his beard. It had taken several weeks for his facial hair to evenly grow in and although he knew that the addition of the scruff helped him to maintain his anonymity during his nightly travels, the constant itch was slowly driving him mad.
Chaol was exhausted, having spent many nights moving under the cloak of darkness around Rifthold in efforts to gain information, any rumors at all about his friends. He hadn't heard a single thing about Dorian, not even what excuse the king had given for the prince's absence. The king was keeping the glass castle closed, limiting who and what went in and out of the castle walls. The date of Aedion's impending execution had been posted; taking place in less than two weeks. As for Aelin or Celaena, Chaol hadn't heard a single thing. Either something had kept her from returning to Ardalan or she had taken on another alias to prevent others from tracking her; Chaol prayed that was the case.
The former Captain of the Guard stopped short. Where is that damned dog? he wondered. With all the traps in place, he knew that Ren had not yet returned for the night, so why hadn't the mutt come to greet him? The apartment was indeed too quiet. Years of training sent his body into alert.
Chaol had not made it a habit of carrying Damaris on his person during his nightly wanderings; the sword was too big to easily conceal and there was also the risk of someone recognizing the famous blade. Instead he reached for one of the many knives he had strategically hidden all over his body.
Holding the knife in front of him, Chaol moved through the apartment, light on his feet and mindful of the furniture.
Whenever Chaol went out for the night he was sure to leave the least amount of lanterns on as possible, so why was there light coming from beneath the door to the main bedroom. Chaol readied his body for attack. Without making a sound, he lifted his leg up and kicked the door open, the sound of the door crashing into the wall from the force sent Fleetfoot into a fit of barking. Chaol should have shushed the dog who was now directing her outburst at him, but Chaol was frozen in place. Just after the door gave way from the frame, Chaol's gaze had landed on the one thing he least expected to find; a woman with blond hair and those unique blue eyes ringed with gold.
"Hello, Chaol."
Chaol nearly dropped the knife he was holding.
There was no smile on Celaena's face, no sign that she was happy to see him, neither was there a look of anger to find him in her apartment with nearly a month's worth of hair on his face. She simply looked indifferent. But there was more. She seemed stronger, more sure of herself. For the first time since Chaol realized her true identity, he saw her potential to be queen.
Chaol dropped to his knees.