Palace of Silver (The Nissera Chronicles #3) - Hannah West Page 0,142

be imprisoned, and that they would handpick their replacements.

Sev’s family had donned their best clothes to accept Navara’s invitation—except Stasi, whose first best dress I had accidentally ruined. I would need to repay her for that, and more.

Sev sat across from me, his deep eyes set on mine, more comforting than a warm summer dusk.

“I want to thank all of you for holding strong in my absence, for protecting my daughter and my kingdom,” Myron said. “We have made mistakes here, every one of us, including me. My wife did not claim control over me without my consent. She could not have crawled inside my mind without exploiting my undeniable weaknesses.”

Navara looked like she wanted to interrupt, but he held up a gentle hand to shush her.

“That said, every decree I signed since the day before Father Peramati’s death will be undone. And we will not, regardless of the temptation some may feel, shrink away from elicromancers in fear. These heroes have proved what my daughter and I always knew to be true: the hearts of elicromancers are no different from the hearts of mortals. While they are capable of great destruction, they also have the power to do great good.”

He lifted his glass, his weakened hand trembling. “To every hero here today, living or dead. And to my brave daughter.”

“Hear, hear!” the guests called. They were much livelier now than when Ambrosine was their host.

I smiled at Navara. Our friendship had strengthened the Realm Alliance’s rapport with Perispos. I looked forward to seeing her grow as a leader.

“Commander Larsio and I have one more announcement,” the king said. “As of tomorrow, Severo Segona will no longer be the royal huntsman. He will begin training to take over the post of king’s commander, and someday, queen’s commander.”

We toasted Sev. I raised my glass the highest.

“This way,” I said, leading Sev by the hand through the woods. The glorious sunset splashed scarlet and gold across the summer sky.

At dawn I would return home. But tonight belonged to us.

“I have no idea what to expect,” he admitted.

“Good.”

“Since you made me dress like this, I at least know it will be cold,” he said, indicating his fur cloak and gloves.

I led him up a hill and around a rock formation, listening for the sound of water. At last I found the cave of dazzling ice, which I’d built beside a gushing waterfall in the forest.

The sunset sparkled across the impeccably smooth walls of the cave. I had taken my time crafting it, imagining the fleeting, wonderful moments Sev and I could spend together in this temporary place of beauty. It represented us, in a way.

“You made this?” he asked in awe.

“You saw me destroy so much,” I said. “I wanted to show you what I could build.” He looked at me with wonder in his eyes. “Go inside!” I urged.

I had shaped a raised platform where I had piled dozens of warm furs. I even made a table for a silver tea service, which I’d materialized here a few pieces at a time.

Sev shook his head in disbelief. “This is almost the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He caught my hand and pulled me toward him.

“Is that so, Commander?” I asked, splaying my hands on his chest. Delicately, he held my face. I tried to resist the urge to shy away from him, aware of how dreadful I looked.

But Sev didn’t let me shy away. The heat of his desiring gaze burned over my skin despite the cold that made white wisps of our breath. He nudged my chin up with his knuckle, stepped closer, and brushed my mouth with his.

I stole a deep breath and responded with little regard for my cuts and bruises, little regard for anything but the comfort of his nearness.

I wished he could come with me, but I didn’t dare ask. He had a family to care for, a king to serve, and the promise of a distinguished new position.

Separate paths stretched before us. They would inevitably intersect, but our only promise was here, now, in this beautiful, transient place, and I forbade my thoughts from taking me elsewhere.

FORTY-TWO

KADRI

DOGHAN, ERDEM

THREE WEEKS LATER

CLAY roof tiles shifted perilously beneath my boots as I crouched to wait for my quarry by the full moon’s light.

Nighttime in Doghan was exciting, more so than any Nisseran city. Thieves prowled. Beggars plucked songs on poorly tuned instruments and laughed their toothless laughs. Street vendors stayed out late to overcharge drunken revelers and gamblers.