Just the Inner Circle being constantly surprised that Elain is more than a passive goody two shoes:
And it was Elain—Elain—who sighed and murmured, “I hope they all burn in hell.”
Elain had been told—by Amren. She now sat at the table, more straight-backed and clear-eyed than I’d seen her. Had she beheld this, in whatever wanderings that new, inner sight granted her? Had the Cauldron whispered of it while we’d been away? I hadn’t the heart to ask her.
“Shall I model it for you?”
I laughed, surprised to hear the sound echo across the room. From Elain.
The vacancy fogged over her eyes. But Elain lifted her chin. “No matter what, don’t kill him. Please.” “We’ll try—”
“Swear it.” I’d never heard that tone from her. Ever.
Nightmares about the moment when Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.
Amren’s eyes narrowed slightly. I straightened, glancing between them. Unusual, yes, for Elain to be so vocal, but she’d been improving. Most days, she was lucid—perhaps quiet and prone to melancholy, but aware.
Elain, to my surprise, held Amren’s gaze.
Elain’s face reddened further, her back straightening. But she didn’t bolt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d never heard Elain’s voice so cold.
Elain, surprisingly, held her ground.
Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people.
Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it.
“Elain showed some teeth,” I observed. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.
This girl is about to pop off in her book and floor everybody.
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