Nehemia Throne Of Glass นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The car drove slowly toward the bustling, sinful heart of New Haven. It was an empire that belonged entirely to me. I raised my right hand, wearing the ring of power. Looking at my cold reflection in the window, I curved my lips. A man’s love is worthless. Only absolute power never betrays.

I asked, and I felt a new weight of dread settling in my stomach. "They want the heirs, Alessia, because they want to wipe out the old blood and start fresh with a new generation that only knows how to follow the Architects, so if you go to that palace tomorrow you are walking into a slaughterhouse," he explained while he handed me the bottle and patted my hand.

THE GALA: 8:00 PM RHEA'S POV The Glass House lived up to its name - a transparent cage of light and arrogance overlooking the dark, churning Atlantic. Walking through the front doors felt like stepping into a cold furnace. Beside me, Nehemiah was a shadow in a tuxedo, his jaw set. My black raven mask pressed against my skin, turning my face to something even I barely recognized. "Remember," Nehemiah whispered, his voice barely audible over the piano music. "I need twenty minutes. If I haven't signaled you by then, get to the north exit."

The color of her eyes is the same with the color of the dancing flames on her palm. The light disappeared from her back. As well as the fire in her palm. The color of her eyes was gradually returning to normal. Before it finally returned to its previous color, she repeated the name she did not know who owned it. "Hestia." He said before kneeling. Meanwhile, Ms. Anthea was looking out the window of her office along with other kings and queens of 5 kingdoms. He looked at the King and Queen of the Phoenix Kingdom as she saw in the reflection of the window glass the brightness of the whole room.

The dawn sky was an unnatural tapestry of ash-gray and blood-red, no sun would rise again. Instead, a searing corona of living flame crowned the horizon, heralding the Eternal Queen’s rule. Nyra stood atop the scorched ramparts of the Bloodforge Keep, her dual circlet of ash and ember still pulsed against her brow. Behind her, Selene knelt at the side of the great cradle, an obsidian throne carved for a child, wrought in bone and rune. The twins, now five summers old and quick beyond belief, clung to their mother’s skirts, eyes bright with fear and wonder.

Ana (voice thick): “Eight treasures down, thirty-nine still sleeping. Tonight we wake the ninth.” She leads us past the church, up a frozen path to an ancient hay barn that smells of cedar and centuries. Inside stands the Winterglass Mirror: tall, black ice veined with silver, humming like a hive. It doesn’t show our reflections. It shows futures we’re terrified of. - Me on a throne of frozen blood, crown complete, eyes empty. - Remy kneeling, broken, dagger at his own throat. - Seras burning everything she loves because she couldn’t stop it.

"Look at his eyes. You know those eyes." "I know those eyes were on a man who just dissolved into smoke!" Jago shouted, his hand trembling on the hilt of his blade. "Kemi said the 'Third Heir' would be an unmade god. We don't know what that thing is. For all we know, it’s wearing Dante’s face to keep us from pulling the trigger!" The boy on the throne stood up. He didn't walk; he glided across the obsidian dais, the rusted crown clinking against his brow. He stopped at the edge of the steps and looked directly at Jago.

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

Nonetheless, the bright full moon at the sky served enough to illuminate the grounds and other objects inside from the open windows. Likewise, the figure of a lady seated on an extravagant, intricately chiseled and decorated throne glows bright as two tall windows flash light on her like converging spotlights. The rear of her fingers altogether supported her tilted head while her other arm rests at her lap. Few meters away from her, a young man stands still, staring directly at her, awaiting the movement she will take. It is Tristan, that child she has been watching over since the first day of their meeting.

She finds it hard to watch Althea, her sister, get tight whenever she comes close, and she always bats her eyes in rejection when she looks at her. Even though I can scarcely see Kohl because of my poor vision, his golden eyes attract my attention when I see him. she said to herself. Kohl's lips were pursed as he looked straight into my soul as they drew closer and shared a passionate kiss. The essence of love overpowered the speed of light that flashed across their heads. Naomi, taken aback by the odd title, questioned, "Who? Me, Queen?" as Prince Kohl whispered to her, "Queen of the iron throne." Just a housekeeper at the Palace, remember? I'm not one of the maids vying for your love.