Palace of Silver (The Nissera Chronicles #3) - Hannah West Page 0,37

acknowledge me.

“Father, please!” she cried in Perispi, gazing beyond me, or maybe through me. Her hair was long again, and she wore a ruby necklace like the one she’d described. “Please help us!”

I turned around to see an image of King Myron, unkempt and unwell, sobbing on the floor of a dark room painted with appallingly violent murals. From my studies and Perennia’s reminder, I recognized his surroundings as an Edifice of the Fallen, the underground counterpart to the beautiful temple I had just left behind.

Myron’s eyes were bright silver, rimmed with dark circles, and wild with madness. He was only a reflection, or even an illusion. Was his torment real? There were three of him, then a dozen, and all around him Navara screamed for help while duplicates of me watched in bewilderment.

“Come find us,” a calmer, feminine voice said behind me. “Please, Myron, my love.”

I looked over my shoulder and found an enchanting woman with black hair—the same face from the portrait Navara had showed me. It was Navara’s mother, the dead queen.

Either Ambrosine had found a way to break the enchantment on her elicrin stone, or she truly had tapped into a dark power.

“I can’t!” the king sobbed. “You’re not here. You’re not real.”

“What can I do to make you believe I’m real?” she answered, with sorrow that sounded convincing.

“Ambrosine!” I called out, tempted to smash through the glass and put an end to this eerie sensation that I was seeing a ghost. “Where are you?”

The woman dropped her expression of despair and stared at me. “I’m only doing as you asked.” Ambrosine’s voice emerged from her lips. “I’m showing you the king. Now you can tell Navara he’s alive and assuage her fears.”

“You’re torturing him!”

“I could do worse.”

“But you haven’t.”

“I’m keeping him for legitimacy’s sake. A revolt against my rule would be a waste of my attentions. I’m busy with other undertakings.”

“What other undertakings?”

The image of the woman faded, replaced by Ambrosine wearing revealing battle armor that no warrior would ever wear. “I hate seeing you act like a pathetic shell of yourself, Glisette,” she said, dodging my question.

“I could say the same to you,” I said. I took a step closer. This could be the last chance to reason with her, to remind her of who she used to be—the last chance to keep this encounter as civil as Perennia hoped it would be. “Your sharp thorns used to protect something good and sensitive. I don’t know when you changed. Was it Mother’s and Father’s deaths that shriveled your soul? Or was it riches beyond your wildest dreams? Was it the Water drying up? Fear over the changing politics of power? When did you become someone our parents would be ashamed of?”

A flash of teeth let me know I had struck a vulnerable place that no armor could protect. “At least I’m not the slavering sycophant to a Calgoranian bitch born with no magic,” she barked. “They would be ashamed of you, not me.”

She had finally dropped the insouciant act, as I’d hoped. Maybe I could still reach her. “This is about Valory?” I asked, ignoring the dangling bait that would drag me into an argument I couldn’t win. “This tantrum, this torment of your new people, is all about her? You call me a sycophant, but I’m not the one obsessed with her power.”

“Maybe you should be. Immortals know that even the best of intentions turn rancid with time and invincibility. The only way to stop people like Valory from claiming absolute power is to use our power to restrain them.”

“Perhaps you don’t recall that Valory and I were doing exactly that while you enabled the Moth King in his quest for chaos. We restrain elicromancers after they use their magic for ill. Valory has done nothing wrong, unlike you.”

“She killed her own family.”

“They were traitors and murderers.”

“She took justice into her own hands. It’s only a matter of time before she runs afoul of the Realm Alliance and throws off the shackles of her conscience.”

“Is that how you see one’s conscience? As a restraint?”

“I’m not going to argue morality with you.” Ambrosine’s countenance darkened. “This is about survival, about protecting Devorian and Perennia. We can’t guarantee their safety when a creature like her exists. But I will save this world from her. My plan has already been set in motion, but I want you to help me. Help me and be even stronger than Valory. You are no one’s right-hand woman, Glisette. You