JК
A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 186 из 293” She looked at Madenn and Kieran. “Why would you risk death to kill Galen?”
“He doesn’t think he risks death,” I said.
She looked at me. “He has used magic to try and work wiles upon me. That is cause for me to challenge one or both of them personally.”
“He told me that Siobhan tried to kill a royal princess and she lives still, and is not being tortured because Ezekiel fears her too much. He said if you would not punish someone for that, then there would be no punishment for trying to kill a half-pixie guard.”
She looked at him, and there was something in that look that made him take a step back, only to bump into the guards. “Did you say that, Kieran?”
“Not those words, no.”
“Did you say the gist of it?”
He swallowed hard enough to be heard and nodded. “Nerys’s entire house turned traitor, tried to kill you, my queen, and they live. Why is the life of one half-breed guard worth more than the life of the queen herself?”
“See, Meredith, you show mercy and they will use it against you.”
“Nerys gave her life so that her house could survive,” I said. “She paid the price for your mercy.”
“Perhaps.” Andais looked past them all to another house of nobles. “Dormath.”
The man who stood was tall and almost impossibly thin. His skin was the whitest that our court could boast, the bloodless pale of a corpse. The black hood of his cloak was pushed back to reveal hair that was as white as his skin, so that he looked almost like an albino, except his eyes were large and luxurious and black. He looked very close to the modern idea of “death.” I was told that once he was as handsome and muscular as any of the sidhe, but that centuries of people’s beliefs had changed him. There were those who debated whether being the representative of death to that degree made him a weak-magicked fool who couldn’t protect himself from mortal thought, or proved that he was one of the most powerful among us, and still worshipped by humans, in a way. His voice was deeper than expected.
“Yes, my queen,” he said.
“Innis is one of yours, as is Siobhan. Are you traitors as Nerys’s house were traitors?”
“No, my queen, I swear that I did not know of Siobhan’s plan, nor of Innis’s. This I swear.”
“You interceded for Siobhan. You begged my mercy. I gave it because my son also valued her, and asked for her life to be spared. I listened to my son and one whom I thought was my ally.”
“I am your ally, Your Majesty. My house is still your house.
“He doesn’t think he risks death,” I said.
She looked at me. “He has used magic to try and work wiles upon me. That is cause for me to challenge one or both of them personally.”
“He told me that Siobhan tried to kill a royal princess and she lives still, and is not being tortured because Ezekiel fears her too much. He said if you would not punish someone for that, then there would be no punishment for trying to kill a half-pixie guard.”
She looked at him, and there was something in that look that made him take a step back, only to bump into the guards. “Did you say that, Kieran?”
“Not those words, no.”
“Did you say the gist of it?”
He swallowed hard enough to be heard and nodded. “Nerys’s entire house turned traitor, tried to kill you, my queen, and they live. Why is the life of one half-breed guard worth more than the life of the queen herself?”
“See, Meredith, you show mercy and they will use it against you.”
“Nerys gave her life so that her house could survive,” I said. “She paid the price for your mercy.”
“Perhaps.” Andais looked past them all to another house of nobles. “Dormath.”
The man who stood was tall and almost impossibly thin. His skin was the whitest that our court could boast, the bloodless pale of a corpse. The black hood of his cloak was pushed back to reveal hair that was as white as his skin, so that he looked almost like an albino, except his eyes were large and luxurious and black. He looked very close to the modern idea of “death.” I was told that once he was as handsome and muscular as any of the sidhe, but that centuries of people’s beliefs had changed him. There were those who debated whether being the representative of death to that degree made him a weak-magicked fool who couldn’t protect himself from mortal thought, or proved that he was one of the most powerful among us, and still worshipped by humans, in a way. His voice was deeper than expected.
“Yes, my queen,” he said.
“Innis is one of yours, as is Siobhan. Are you traitors as Nerys’s house were traitors?”
“No, my queen, I swear that I did not know of Siobhan’s plan, nor of Innis’s. This I swear.”
“You interceded for Siobhan. You begged my mercy. I gave it because my son also valued her, and asked for her life to be spared. I listened to my son and one whom I thought was my ally.”
“I am your ally, Your Majesty. My house is still your house.