Malkar’s suite was in the part of the Mirador called Fra Barbarossa, still lavish with the tastes of long-dead Ophidian kings. The walls were faced with white marble and hung with gold brocade. Statues of ancient heroes stood in niches, watching me with painted eyes. I knew all their names, all their histories, and their very indifference woke me, alarmed me, and I was caught frozen, able to neither walk forward into Hell nor to turn and walk away.
-Sarah Monette
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