Читать книгу Mistress of Pharaohs. Daughter of Dawn онлайн

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“They’re useless,” Alais said, tossing the last of the masks into the dune. The mask moved as if it were a lizard.

The masks could crawl and even fly, moving notches in the form of wing-like ears, spikes, or horns. But Alais didn’t care about them. They’re just masks. They have no personality. They’re just a mold of her.

“I wish I could take away the masks Michael had cut off the faces of my legionnaires,” Alaïs closed her eyelids. She was reminded of the heartbreaking screams. The armies that had followed her into battle were doomed. They had been tortured, they had been destroyed. They were worse than dead.

Alais lifted one golden mask and scrutinized the flawless features.

“I was the most beautiful angel in heaven, and I still am. Who would have thought my entourage would be monsters!”

The abandoned mask flew into the sand, managing to sing something. These masks were too talkative. Her head ached with their suggestions and prophecies.

How was Menes? Was he happy that he got his kingdom with the help of demons? Of this the masks did not know. It was useless to even ask them.