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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
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“We should have heard the battle even inside our own sithen,” Frost said, and there was a question in his voice.
Sholto’s eyes flicked to him, then away again, as if he suddenly found that he didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.
Segna the Gold’s voice whined from out of her dirty yellow hood. “What cannot be taken with force of arms, can easily be won with soft flesh.”
Sholto didn’t tell her to be quiet. He actually hung his head, so that a sweep of his own pale hair shadowed his face. I didn’t understand what Segna meant, but it had clearly hit home for him.
“I would not ask this of you,” Doyle said, “but if Taranis’s people have harmed you, then it is a direct challenge to our queen’s authority. Either he believes we will not retaliate, or he believes we are not strong enough to retaliate.”
Sholto looked up then. “Now do you understand why I thought Queen Andais had to know?”
Doyle nodded. “Because if she had not given her permission, then this attack makes even less sense.”
“Wars have begun over less,” Mistral said.
The comment earned him a glance from Sholto. “The last time I saw you, you sat in the consort’s chair, at the feet of Princess Meredith.”
Mistral bowed. “I was so honored.”
“I have sat in the chair, and it was an empty honor. Have you found it so?”
Mistral hesitated, then said, “I have found it everything I would hope it to be, and more.”
I fought not to glance back at him. His voice was so careful, I knew he saw something in the king before us that I hadn’t seen until now. He was desperate to know the touch of another sidhe; he wanted to have another’s glow of high magic to match his own. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sholto had been here in his own kingdom pining for me to keep my promise and offer him my body. Assassination attempts, murders, and more political machinations than I could keep track of had kept me from fulfilling it. But I hadn’t meant to ignore Sholto.
“I did not mean it to be an empty honor, King Sholto,” I said. “I mean to keep my promise to you.”
“Now — you will bed him now.” Segna’s voice again, like a grating whine. “It’s what the Seelie bitch said, too, that once he healed up, she’d bed him.”
I stared up at him. “You allowed someone to do this to you?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
Agnes’s voice, more cultured, more human than her sister hag’s. “Sholto, you have dreamt of being sidhe, completely sidhe, since you were small.
“We should have heard the battle even inside our own sithen,” Frost said, and there was a question in his voice.
Sholto’s eyes flicked to him, then away again, as if he suddenly found that he didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.
Segna the Gold’s voice whined from out of her dirty yellow hood. “What cannot be taken with force of arms, can easily be won with soft flesh.”
Sholto didn’t tell her to be quiet. He actually hung his head, so that a sweep of his own pale hair shadowed his face. I didn’t understand what Segna meant, but it had clearly hit home for him.
“I would not ask this of you,” Doyle said, “but if Taranis’s people have harmed you, then it is a direct challenge to our queen’s authority. Either he believes we will not retaliate, or he believes we are not strong enough to retaliate.”
Sholto looked up then. “Now do you understand why I thought Queen Andais had to know?”
Doyle nodded. “Because if she had not given her permission, then this attack makes even less sense.”
“Wars have begun over less,” Mistral said.
The comment earned him a glance from Sholto. “The last time I saw you, you sat in the consort’s chair, at the feet of Princess Meredith.”
Mistral bowed. “I was so honored.”
“I have sat in the chair, and it was an empty honor. Have you found it so?”
Mistral hesitated, then said, “I have found it everything I would hope it to be, and more.”
I fought not to glance back at him. His voice was so careful, I knew he saw something in the king before us that I hadn’t seen until now. He was desperate to know the touch of another sidhe; he wanted to have another’s glow of high magic to match his own. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sholto had been here in his own kingdom pining for me to keep my promise and offer him my body. Assassination attempts, murders, and more political machinations than I could keep track of had kept me from fulfilling it. But I hadn’t meant to ignore Sholto.
“I did not mean it to be an empty honor, King Sholto,” I said. “I mean to keep my promise to you.”
“Now — you will bed him now.” Segna’s voice again, like a grating whine. “It’s what the Seelie bitch said, too, that once he healed up, she’d bed him.”
I stared up at him. “You allowed someone to do this to you?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
Agnes’s voice, more cultured, more human than her sister hag’s. “Sholto, you have dreamt of being sidhe, completely sidhe, since you were small.