JК
A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 146 из 293It was a thin, gauzy, golden cloth, so you saw his head andface through the haze of it. Only his odd eyes were free of the cloth, showing pale skin, and a lace of pale eyelashes.
“I’d forgotten that you covered your face,” I said, and hadn’t really meant to say it out loud.
“Much is forgotten,” he said, hands still holding his cloak around his bloody side.
“I said I forgot that you covered your face, not why.”
“Yes, yes,” Hafwyn said, “the most beautiful man in the world. So beautiful that if a woman, or even some men, look upon your face they will be instantly besotted with you and unable to deny you anything.” She grabbed his cloak and tried to wrench it from his hands, and finished the rest through gritted teeth. “But I am not asking you to take off your veil, just your tunic.”
“I fear what effect it would have upon a mortal.”
Hafwyn stopped struggling with him, and leaned back on her heels, I think too surprised to know what to do. I realized then that he meant me. How could I ever truly rule here if they still thought of me as a human?
Kieran spoke my thoughts out loud. “Even the guard itself thinks of you as only mortal, and not sidhe.”
I would have argued with him, if I could have. “Are you saying, Aisling, that your bare chest is enough to bespell me?”
“I have seen it happen before to humans.”
I gazed up at him, Galen still in my lap. “Aisling, do you think of me as human?”
He lowered his eyes and would not look at me, which was answer enough. “I guess that’s a yes.”
“I mean no disrespect, Princess Meredith. If you are sidhe enough to look upon me, that would be a fine thing, but what if I did bespell you? There is only one remedy for the enchantment.”
“And that would be?”
“True love. You must be in love with someone else before you can look upon me.”
“Not entirely true,” Hawthorne said from his place at Melangell’s side. “Aisling’s magic can overcome even true love if he wishes it and tries hard enough. Once he could make anyone fall hopelessly in love with him.”
“Lust, not love,” Adair said. “There is a difference, you know, Hawthorne.”
“It has been so long since I had either that I’m not sure I do remember the difference,” Hawthorne said.
Adair leaned against the wall in the torn remnants of his padding and undershirt. He smiled, tiredly, with an edge of pain to it. “Aye, I hear you.”
I had this horrible urge to kiss Adair, to take that edge of sorrow from his smile and see if I could get a real one.
“I’d forgotten that you covered your face,” I said, and hadn’t really meant to say it out loud.
“Much is forgotten,” he said, hands still holding his cloak around his bloody side.
“I said I forgot that you covered your face, not why.”
“Yes, yes,” Hafwyn said, “the most beautiful man in the world. So beautiful that if a woman, or even some men, look upon your face they will be instantly besotted with you and unable to deny you anything.” She grabbed his cloak and tried to wrench it from his hands, and finished the rest through gritted teeth. “But I am not asking you to take off your veil, just your tunic.”
“I fear what effect it would have upon a mortal.”
Hafwyn stopped struggling with him, and leaned back on her heels, I think too surprised to know what to do. I realized then that he meant me. How could I ever truly rule here if they still thought of me as a human?
Kieran spoke my thoughts out loud. “Even the guard itself thinks of you as only mortal, and not sidhe.”
I would have argued with him, if I could have. “Are you saying, Aisling, that your bare chest is enough to bespell me?”
“I have seen it happen before to humans.”
I gazed up at him, Galen still in my lap. “Aisling, do you think of me as human?”
He lowered his eyes and would not look at me, which was answer enough. “I guess that’s a yes.”
“I mean no disrespect, Princess Meredith. If you are sidhe enough to look upon me, that would be a fine thing, but what if I did bespell you? There is only one remedy for the enchantment.”
“And that would be?”
“True love. You must be in love with someone else before you can look upon me.”
“Not entirely true,” Hawthorne said from his place at Melangell’s side. “Aisling’s magic can overcome even true love if he wishes it and tries hard enough. Once he could make anyone fall hopelessly in love with him.”
“Lust, not love,” Adair said. “There is a difference, you know, Hawthorne.”
“It has been so long since I had either that I’m not sure I do remember the difference,” Hawthorne said.
Adair leaned against the wall in the torn remnants of his padding and undershirt. He smiled, tiredly, with an edge of pain to it. “Aye, I hear you.”
I had this horrible urge to kiss Adair, to take that edge of sorrow from his smile and see if I could get a real one.