JК
Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 90 из 148”
“I think that is as good as we get from her,” Frost said, voice low.
Doyle nodded. “Aye.”
They both looked at me, as if they knew this was a bad idea. I addressed their look aloud. “There’s no way around this, only through it. We have to live through this moment to get to the next.”
Sholto raised his face enough to say, “Segna will not live through this moment.”
He hadn’t been this upset in Los Angeles when I’d done something much more horrible to Nerys the Grey, his other hag. I didn’t point this out, but I couldn’t help noting it. They had both been his lovers — but then again, I knew better than most that you don’t feel for your lovers all the same. Segna meant something to him, and Nerys had not. Simple, painful, true.
I looked past the dying hag to Black Agnes, who watched Sholto intently. I realized in that moment that she didn’t just weep for Segna’s death, but like me remembered that he hadn’t wept for Nerys. Was she wondering if he would weep for her? Or did she already know that he had loved Segna more? I wasn’t sure, but I could tell it was a raw and painful thought that cut across her features. She stared at the weeping king, and her thoughts carved loss across her face. She would not come out of this night’s work simply mourning Segna.
She seemed to feel the weight of my gaze, because she turned. She looked at me, the grief in her face changing into a fine, burning hatred. I saw my death in her eyes. Agnes would kill me, if she could.
Doyle’s hand tightened on my arm. Frost stepped over the bones in front of us, hidden by the water, and put his broad shoulders in the way of Agnes’s look, as if her look alone could somehow hurt me. That time was past. But there would be more nights, and more ways of making one mortal princess dead.
“She has given her oath,” Sholto said in a choked voice. “It is all we can do tonight.” That last was some acknowledgment that he saw what we saw in Agnes’s face. I’d liked to have believed that he could keep a tight enough rein on the hag, but her look said there would not be a leash of honor, or love, stronger than her hate.
I didn’t want to kill Segna, didn’t want to end her life while Sholto wept for her. And now I knew that I must also kill Agnes or she’d see me dead. I might not do the deed myself, and it might not happen today, but I would have to call for her death. She was too dangerous, too well placed among the sluagh to be allowed to live.
“I think that is as good as we get from her,” Frost said, voice low.
Doyle nodded. “Aye.”
They both looked at me, as if they knew this was a bad idea. I addressed their look aloud. “There’s no way around this, only through it. We have to live through this moment to get to the next.”
Sholto raised his face enough to say, “Segna will not live through this moment.”
He hadn’t been this upset in Los Angeles when I’d done something much more horrible to Nerys the Grey, his other hag. I didn’t point this out, but I couldn’t help noting it. They had both been his lovers — but then again, I knew better than most that you don’t feel for your lovers all the same. Segna meant something to him, and Nerys had not. Simple, painful, true.
I looked past the dying hag to Black Agnes, who watched Sholto intently. I realized in that moment that she didn’t just weep for Segna’s death, but like me remembered that he hadn’t wept for Nerys. Was she wondering if he would weep for her? Or did she already know that he had loved Segna more? I wasn’t sure, but I could tell it was a raw and painful thought that cut across her features. She stared at the weeping king, and her thoughts carved loss across her face. She would not come out of this night’s work simply mourning Segna.
She seemed to feel the weight of my gaze, because she turned. She looked at me, the grief in her face changing into a fine, burning hatred. I saw my death in her eyes. Agnes would kill me, if she could.
Doyle’s hand tightened on my arm. Frost stepped over the bones in front of us, hidden by the water, and put his broad shoulders in the way of Agnes’s look, as if her look alone could somehow hurt me. That time was past. But there would be more nights, and more ways of making one mortal princess dead.
“She has given her oath,” Sholto said in a choked voice. “It is all we can do tonight.” That last was some acknowledgment that he saw what we saw in Agnes’s face. I’d liked to have believed that he could keep a tight enough rein on the hag, but her look said there would not be a leash of honor, or love, stronger than her hate.
I didn’t want to kill Segna, didn’t want to end her life while Sholto wept for her. And now I knew that I must also kill Agnes or she’d see me dead. I might not do the deed myself, and it might not happen today, but I would have to call for her death. She was too dangerous, too well placed among the sluagh to be allowed to live.