Palace of Silver (The Nissera Chronicles #3) - Hannah West Page 0,8
final second.
If the story had ended there, he would have remained a hero. But when the blight plague assaulted us from the other direction, he failed to understand that it marked the advent of an oppressive darkness. He had caught wind of the sickness that struck his city but underestimated its deadliness—and overestimated the old Realm Alliance’s power to squelch the crisis.
Instead of taking bold initiative, he’d become infatuated with the girl who saved him and whisked her out to sea to avoid prying eyes. I could hardly blame him. I’d glimpsed her once and seen enchanting blue eyes, a coconut-milk complexion, and hair fairer than frosted glass. She disappeared when she learned Fabian planned to marry me. Later, I learned she was a sea maiden who had helped translate the lost language on the pearlescent tablet Devorian had broken. In exchange, she took a beautiful human form through the combination of Valory’s power and a sea witch’s magic.
Fabian confided in me that her oddness and childlike demeanor had dashed his hopes for a passionate dalliance. He preferred more worldly-wise women.
And I preferred he be a bit more discreet about his affairs.
I hadn’t needed to flaunt his mistakes to rebuke him. His jarring homecoming from the sea had been rebuke enough. Not only did he return to a city in chaos, with both of his parents presumed dead and no Realm Alliance left standing; but I, his betrothed, appeared to have fled to Erdem for the sake of my safety.
Now he knew the truth: I had nearly died facing down the evil he had failed to recognize as a threat until it was too late.
Fabian squeezed my hand in return and offered a frail smile. “I wouldn’t last a day without you.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I said playfully, and reached for a shrimp. “Oh, that’s divine. I think just a bit more cumin, don’t you? And seeing it now, I’d prefer the gold glass plates to the blue ones.”
“How do you focus on these things?” Fabian asked, shaking his head. “I can’t seem to concentrate on anything constructive. Sometimes I sit in the study for hours, wondering how everything went so wrong and whether it could happen again.”
A cool breeze rushed over us, tugging at the table linens and streaming my raven hair over my face. “Nissera has to move on,” I said, looking over the jewel-blue sea. “It has to heal. We’re the leaders now. We’re the ones who have to stitch everything together with smiles on our faces, no matter what challenges arise.”
I resituated my wind-tossed skirt, and the corners of the folded letter pressed against my skin. “Speaking of challenges,” I continued. “I received a letter from Rayed. It contains less-than-ideal news.”
“When did you start phrasing everything so diplomatically?”
“When I was crowned queen and had no choice.”
“Fair enough,” he said, popping a shrimp into his mouth. “What’s the matter?”
“Our alliance with Erdem is under strain. They look at us and see unmitigated disasters, young and inexperienced leaders. If we don’t start thinking like your mother and father, we could lose the favor of Perispos too. The economic crisis Ambrosine and Mathis Lorenthi caused will be nothing compared to losing trade partners.”
My tone intensified toward the end. The lenience the Realm Alliance showed Glisette’s sister and uncle had agitated me from the start. A prescient regret had haunted me during their hearings. But I let the others sentence them without speaking up. I stayed silent because Rayed had also made grave errors, which we had informally pardoned. His intentions were far more innocent, and anyone with half a heart could understand why Rayed helped the Calgoranian traitors—they had threatened my life if he refused.
But one could also argue that Ambrosine and Mathis didn’t mean to cause any harm. In fact, they had argued that for themselves quite deftly. The pursuit of justice so easily became a slick slope into a valley of moral ambiguity.
Thunderclouds passed through Fabian’s eyes. “So King Agmur does not respect us.”
“He respects you. He says your claim to Yorth’s throne is the only inarguable one.”
“It’s insulting,” he said, though he looked a tad relieved. “He should know better than to disregard elicromancers. Does he not know what we can do if our relations sour? Does he not fear us?”
“Oh, Fabian,” I sighed, molding my hand to his cheek. “After what we’ve endured, can’t you concede that no elicromancer is invincible?”
“Even Valory?” he asked.
I swallowed hard and broke our gazes. “Probably even her. Regardless, the Realm