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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 150 из 293“What would you have of me, Princess, if not my sword?”
“If you show your face to a sidhe woman will she tell you anything you ask her?”
“You mean tomake her besotted, so we may question her?”
“Yes.”
Melangell’s eyes had gone a little wide.
“I have never used my powers in that way.”
“Would it work?”
He thought about it. “Yes.”
“Then let us see if she will tell us for lust what she will not tell for loyalty.”
I motioned for the guard on Kanna, the other of Cel’s guard, to turn her to face the far wall. Dogmaela had already gone to the other end of the hallway. She may have had divided loyalties, but not enough to join her kneeling comrades. Or enough to protect them. Interesting that Melangell and Kanna had spoken only to Hafwyn, as if Dogmaela was not even there.
Aisling’s hands rose to his golden veil. “You should look away, as well, Princess.”
I nodded and moved back. Though I could admit to myself that there was an almost unbearable urge to look at his face. To look on someone so beautiful that one glimpse would make you fall instantly in lust with them. A beauty so great that one glimpse and you would betray all you held most dear. I did wonder.
Frost knew me too well, took my arm to move me just a little more to Aisling’s back. He gave me a look, and I shrugged. What could I say?
Aisling removed his veil, and all I could see was that his hair was yellow and gold, like streaks of honey, and, like the gold in his skin, shining together. It was braided in complicated knots so that it looked much shorter than the hair actually was. If no one could look upon his face, who did his hair?
“She has closed her eyes,” he said.
“Hawthorne, cut her eyelids off. They’ll grow back.”
She did what I’d hoped she’d do; at the first touch of the knife tip, she opened her eyes. Her eyes blinked, and Hawthorne moved the knife back. Her gaze moved up Aisling’s body, as if drawn against her will. I knew when she reached his face because I saw it in her eyes. Saw the shock of it over her face. It was a frightened look, as if she looked not upon great beauty, but great ugliness.
Hawthorne turned his face away. Lord Kieran did, too. Only Crystall looked upon Aisling’s naked face without flinching. He smiled, as if he saw something wonderful. His clear, white skin filled with radiance, as if the sight had kindled his magic. Only when his hair was shot through with color like prisms in the light did he turn away, as if he could not bear the sight any longer.
Melangell screamed, and it was a sound of irretrievable loss. The echo of it died on the stones, and her eyes filled with… love.
“If you show your face to a sidhe woman will she tell you anything you ask her?”
“You mean tomake her besotted, so we may question her?”
“Yes.”
Melangell’s eyes had gone a little wide.
“I have never used my powers in that way.”
“Would it work?”
He thought about it. “Yes.”
“Then let us see if she will tell us for lust what she will not tell for loyalty.”
I motioned for the guard on Kanna, the other of Cel’s guard, to turn her to face the far wall. Dogmaela had already gone to the other end of the hallway. She may have had divided loyalties, but not enough to join her kneeling comrades. Or enough to protect them. Interesting that Melangell and Kanna had spoken only to Hafwyn, as if Dogmaela was not even there.
Aisling’s hands rose to his golden veil. “You should look away, as well, Princess.”
I nodded and moved back. Though I could admit to myself that there was an almost unbearable urge to look at his face. To look on someone so beautiful that one glimpse would make you fall instantly in lust with them. A beauty so great that one glimpse and you would betray all you held most dear. I did wonder.
Frost knew me too well, took my arm to move me just a little more to Aisling’s back. He gave me a look, and I shrugged. What could I say?
Aisling removed his veil, and all I could see was that his hair was yellow and gold, like streaks of honey, and, like the gold in his skin, shining together. It was braided in complicated knots so that it looked much shorter than the hair actually was. If no one could look upon his face, who did his hair?
“She has closed her eyes,” he said.
“Hawthorne, cut her eyelids off. They’ll grow back.”
She did what I’d hoped she’d do; at the first touch of the knife tip, she opened her eyes. Her eyes blinked, and Hawthorne moved the knife back. Her gaze moved up Aisling’s body, as if drawn against her will. I knew when she reached his face because I saw it in her eyes. Saw the shock of it over her face. It was a frightened look, as if she looked not upon great beauty, but great ugliness.
Hawthorne turned his face away. Lord Kieran did, too. Only Crystall looked upon Aisling’s naked face without flinching. He smiled, as if he saw something wonderful. His clear, white skin filled with radiance, as if the sight had kindled his magic. Only when his hair was shot through with color like prisms in the light did he turn away, as if he could not bear the sight any longer.
Melangell screamed, and it was a sound of irretrievable loss. The echo of it died on the stones, and her eyes filled with… love.