Nausicaa's gaze flickered to the wall on Pela's right, specifically toward a family portrait. But it was not her own.
"The late queen." Uriel's mother, a scholar from Chrysocolla, had been especially talented. But the fact that she'd reworked the wards in the palace after she'd moved in had become a cause of worry for some of Uriel's advisers, particularly his uncle, in the light of the recent reports. "The... king," she pauses, because what she really wished to say but could not was the king's uncle, "wants to be certain we have not been compromised."
The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Uriel's mother had died from the Plague, yet here she was, parroting the words of the man she hated the most in the kingdom, as if the former queen had been a traitor.
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"The late queen." Uriel's mother, a scholar from Chrysocolla, had been especially talented. But the fact that she'd reworked the wards in the palace after she'd moved in had become a cause of worry for some of Uriel's advisers, particularly his uncle, in the light of the recent reports. "The... king," she pauses, because what she really wished to say but could not was the king's uncle, "wants to be certain we have not been compromised."
The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Uriel's mother had died from the Plague, yet here she was, parroting the words of the man she hated the most in the kingdom, as if the former queen had been a traitor.