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A Caress Of Twilight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 142 из 236He was reading down a list, face half-averted. "Greetings to Princess Meredith NicEssus from the High King Taranis Thunderer. This is to inform you of a pre-Yule ball three days hence. His majesty looks forward to seeing you there."
During the speech, he had not looked out at the room. His hand was actually reaching out to cleanse the mirror when I spoke.
I said the one word he probably didn't expect to hear. "No."
His hand went down, and he looked up into the room with a cross look on his face. The look gave way to astonishment, then disgust. Maybe it was watching Kitto writhe on the bed. Maybe it was me being splattered with blood. Whatever, he didn't like the show.
"You are Princess Meredith NicEssus, are you not?" His voice dripped with disdain, as if he found it hard to believe.
"Yes."
"Then we will see you at the ball." Again his hand went up to cleanse the mirror.
"No," I said again.
He lowered his hand and scowled at me. "I have quite a few invitations to make today, Princess, so I do not have time for histrionics."
I smiled, but could feel my eyes going hard. But underneath the anger was pleasure. Hedwick had always been an officious little bootlicker, and I knew that he gave the invitations to all the lesser fey, lesser people. Another sidhe handled all the important social contacts. That Hedwick had extended the invitation was an insult; the way he'd given it was a double insult.
"I'm not the least bit hysterical, Hedwick. I cannot accept the invitation as it stands."
He bristled, his fingers going to his fluffy white cravat. He was dressed as if the 1700s had never passed. At least he wasn't wearing a wig. For that I was grateful.
"The high king himself commands your presence, Princess." He sounded like he always did, as if it was the utmost honor to toady for the king.
"I am Unseelie and I have no high king," I said.
Doyle knelt at my feet with a small basket of medical supplies. We'd started keeping them near at hand, though the bites from the other guards were usually nowhere near this bad.
Hedwick's gaze flicked down to Doyle, then up to me with a frown. "You are a Seelie princess."
Doyle moved around me so that he was on the side with the wound. He took the towel, applying direct pressure with it.
I took a slightly sharper breath as he pressed the cloth very firmly into the bite, but other than that my voice was normal. I sounded all business as Doyle tended my wound and Kitto writhed against me.
During the speech, he had not looked out at the room. His hand was actually reaching out to cleanse the mirror when I spoke.
I said the one word he probably didn't expect to hear. "No."
His hand went down, and he looked up into the room with a cross look on his face. The look gave way to astonishment, then disgust. Maybe it was watching Kitto writhe on the bed. Maybe it was me being splattered with blood. Whatever, he didn't like the show.
"You are Princess Meredith NicEssus, are you not?" His voice dripped with disdain, as if he found it hard to believe.
"Yes."
"Then we will see you at the ball." Again his hand went up to cleanse the mirror.
"No," I said again.
He lowered his hand and scowled at me. "I have quite a few invitations to make today, Princess, so I do not have time for histrionics."
I smiled, but could feel my eyes going hard. But underneath the anger was pleasure. Hedwick had always been an officious little bootlicker, and I knew that he gave the invitations to all the lesser fey, lesser people. Another sidhe handled all the important social contacts. That Hedwick had extended the invitation was an insult; the way he'd given it was a double insult.
"I'm not the least bit hysterical, Hedwick. I cannot accept the invitation as it stands."
He bristled, his fingers going to his fluffy white cravat. He was dressed as if the 1700s had never passed. At least he wasn't wearing a wig. For that I was grateful.
"The high king himself commands your presence, Princess." He sounded like he always did, as if it was the utmost honor to toady for the king.
"I am Unseelie and I have no high king," I said.
Doyle knelt at my feet with a small basket of medical supplies. We'd started keeping them near at hand, though the bites from the other guards were usually nowhere near this bad.
Hedwick's gaze flicked down to Doyle, then up to me with a frown. "You are a Seelie princess."
Doyle moved around me so that he was on the side with the wound. He took the towel, applying direct pressure with it.
I took a slightly sharper breath as he pressed the cloth very firmly into the bite, but other than that my voice was normal. I sounded all business as Doyle tended my wound and Kitto writhed against me.