Page 600 - Fourth Wing

The windows that look out over the mountain this fortress is built upon

down to the valley below and its line of charred trees marking where the
earth was scorched all the way to stone and the quiet town—which used to

be a city—of Aretia beneath us.

The town we’ve worked our asses off to rebuild from a pile of cinder and
ruins.

“Violet?” I keep my shields up, trying to respect her privacy as I walk to

her side, but gods, I need to know what she’s thinking.
Her eyes widen as her gaze sweeps over the town, each structure with its

identical green roofs, then pauses on the Temple of Amari, which was the

most noted landmark besides our library.
“Where are we? And don’t you dare lie to me,” she says. “Not again.”

Not again. “You remember.”
“I remember.”

“Thank gods,” I murmur, shoving my hand into my hair. It’s a good thing,

proving that she’s truly healed, but…fuck.
“Where. Are. We?” She bites out every word, her eyes narrowing on me.

“Say it.”
“The way you’re looking at me says you already know.” There’s no way

this brilliant woman doesn’t recognize that temple.

“This looks like Aretia.” She gestures to the window. “There’s only one
temple with those particular columns. I’ve seen the drawings.”

“Yes.” Brilliant. Fucking. Woman.

“Aretia was burned to the ground. I’ve seen those drawings, too, the ones
the scribes brought back for the public notices. My mother told me she saw

the embers with her own eyes, so where are we?” Her voice rises.

“Aretia.” It feels incredibly freeing to tell her the truth.
“Rebuilt or never burned?” She turns her back on me.

“In the process of rebuilding.”
“Why haven’t I read about this?”