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A Caress Of Twilight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 41 из 236"
"I have better manners than to ask such a personal question right outof the bag," I said.
"We know you have better manners than that, but Maeve Reed does not."
I stared at him. Frost's fingers rubbed along my knuckles, over and over. "Are you saying I should pretend to not know any better?"
"I am saying we should use all the weapons in our arsenal. Your mixed heritage could be a decided advantage today."
"It would be almost the same thing as lying, Doyle," I said.
"Almost," he agreed, then that small smile of his curled his lips. "The sidhe never lie, Meredith, but shading the truth is a long-honored pastime among us."
"I'm very well aware of that," I said. My voice held enough sarcasm to fill the van.
His smile flashed suddenly white in the darkness of his face. "As are we all, Princess, as are we all."
"I don't think it's worth the risk," Rhys said.
I shook my head. "We had this conversation once, Rhys, I do think it's worth the risk." I looked up at Frost. "How about you?"
He turned to Doyle. "What do you think? I would not risk Meredith's safety for anything, but we are badly in need of allies, and a sidhe that has been exiled from faerie for a century might be willing to risk much to come back."
"You're suggesting that Maeve wants to help Meredith to be queen," Doyle made it half question, half statement.
"If Meredith is queen, then she could offer Maeve a return to faerie. I do not think that Taranis would risk all-out war for one returned exile."
"You really think a royal of the Seelie Court would be willing to come to the Unseelie Court?" I asked.
Frost looked down at me. "Whatever prejudices Maeve Reed might once have had against the Unseelie, she has been without the touch of fey hands for a century." He raised my hand to his mouth, kissed my fingertips, blowing his breath along each of them before he touched me. It brought shivers up and down my skin. He spoke with his mouth just above my skin. "I know what it is to want the touch of another sidhe and be denied. I at least had the court and the rest of faerie to comfort me. I cannot imagine her loneliness all these years." The last was said in a whisper. His eyes had gone solid rain-cloud grey.
It took effort, but I drew my attention away from Frost to look at Doyle. "Do you think he's right? Do you think she's looking for a way back into faerie?"
He shrugged, making the leather of his jacket creak with the movement. "Who can say, but I know that after a century of isolation, I certainly would be."
I nodded. "All right then, we're agreed. We go in.
"I have better manners than to ask such a personal question right outof the bag," I said.
"We know you have better manners than that, but Maeve Reed does not."
I stared at him. Frost's fingers rubbed along my knuckles, over and over. "Are you saying I should pretend to not know any better?"
"I am saying we should use all the weapons in our arsenal. Your mixed heritage could be a decided advantage today."
"It would be almost the same thing as lying, Doyle," I said.
"Almost," he agreed, then that small smile of his curled his lips. "The sidhe never lie, Meredith, but shading the truth is a long-honored pastime among us."
"I'm very well aware of that," I said. My voice held enough sarcasm to fill the van.
His smile flashed suddenly white in the darkness of his face. "As are we all, Princess, as are we all."
"I don't think it's worth the risk," Rhys said.
I shook my head. "We had this conversation once, Rhys, I do think it's worth the risk." I looked up at Frost. "How about you?"
He turned to Doyle. "What do you think? I would not risk Meredith's safety for anything, but we are badly in need of allies, and a sidhe that has been exiled from faerie for a century might be willing to risk much to come back."
"You're suggesting that Maeve wants to help Meredith to be queen," Doyle made it half question, half statement.
"If Meredith is queen, then she could offer Maeve a return to faerie. I do not think that Taranis would risk all-out war for one returned exile."
"You really think a royal of the Seelie Court would be willing to come to the Unseelie Court?" I asked.
Frost looked down at me. "Whatever prejudices Maeve Reed might once have had against the Unseelie, she has been without the touch of fey hands for a century." He raised my hand to his mouth, kissed my fingertips, blowing his breath along each of them before he touched me. It brought shivers up and down my skin. He spoke with his mouth just above my skin. "I know what it is to want the touch of another sidhe and be denied. I at least had the court and the rest of faerie to comfort me. I cannot imagine her loneliness all these years." The last was said in a whisper. His eyes had gone solid rain-cloud grey.
It took effort, but I drew my attention away from Frost to look at Doyle. "Do you think he's right? Do you think she's looking for a way back into faerie?"
He shrugged, making the leather of his jacket creak with the movement. "Who can say, but I know that after a century of isolation, I certainly would be."
I nodded. "All right then, we're agreed. We go in.