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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 206 из 293Why would you show us courtesy?”
He frowned, and I watched him try to put into words what was simply him. It had been the right thing to do, and for once it had even been the politically smart thing to do, but that hadn’t been why he’d done it.
“We owed you an apology,” he said at last. “Merry explained it. I wasn’t sure that anyone else would agree with her, so I did.”
Niceven floated over to face me. “He apologized to us because it was the right thing to do.”
“Yes,” I said.
She looked back at him, then at me. “Oh, Princess, you must keep this one close, for he is too dangerous to be left alone among the sidhe.”
“Too dangerous,” Galen said, “dangerous to whom?”
“To yourself, for one,” Niceven said, fluttering over to him. She put thin, pale hands on the hips of her white dress. “I see goodness in your face, goodness and gentleness. You are in the wrong court, green knight.”
“My father was a pixie, and my mother an Unseelie sidhe.” He shook his head, vigorously enough that Niceven moved a little back from him. “No, the glittering throng wouldn’t touch me.”
Niceven gazed down at the flowers and her besotted people. “They might now.”
“No,” Hawthorne said, “Taranis doesn’t forgive a sidhe who joins the darkling court. If you take your exile to the humans and wander lost for a few centuries, maybe he’ll forgive you, but,” he lifted his helmet off, “once you’ve been accepted here, there is no going back.”
“Perhaps,” Niceven said, “or perhaps not.”
“Queen Niceven,” I said.
She turned to me, her face carefully passive, her thin hands folded in front of her.
“What do you mean ‘perhaps not’?”
She shrugged. “Oh, someone who can be a fly upon the wall hears things.”
“What sort of things?” I asked.
“Things that I might share with someone who was my ally, and honored their bargains.”
“If you will not take blood directly from me, then I will need a new magical proxy,” I said.
She turned in the air, and looked at Royal and his sister in their rat-drawn cart. “Royal,” she said.
He stood straighter, almost to attention, though without wings he could not be in Niceven’s guard. “Yes, my queen.”
“Would you taste the blood of the princess and share the essence with me?”
“Gladly, my queen.”
Penny clung to him. “Don’t, Royal, don’t do it.”
He drew her away from him, and looked down into her face.
He frowned, and I watched him try to put into words what was simply him. It had been the right thing to do, and for once it had even been the politically smart thing to do, but that hadn’t been why he’d done it.
“We owed you an apology,” he said at last. “Merry explained it. I wasn’t sure that anyone else would agree with her, so I did.”
Niceven floated over to face me. “He apologized to us because it was the right thing to do.”
“Yes,” I said.
She looked back at him, then at me. “Oh, Princess, you must keep this one close, for he is too dangerous to be left alone among the sidhe.”
“Too dangerous,” Galen said, “dangerous to whom?”
“To yourself, for one,” Niceven said, fluttering over to him. She put thin, pale hands on the hips of her white dress. “I see goodness in your face, goodness and gentleness. You are in the wrong court, green knight.”
“My father was a pixie, and my mother an Unseelie sidhe.” He shook his head, vigorously enough that Niceven moved a little back from him. “No, the glittering throng wouldn’t touch me.”
Niceven gazed down at the flowers and her besotted people. “They might now.”
“No,” Hawthorne said, “Taranis doesn’t forgive a sidhe who joins the darkling court. If you take your exile to the humans and wander lost for a few centuries, maybe he’ll forgive you, but,” he lifted his helmet off, “once you’ve been accepted here, there is no going back.”
“Perhaps,” Niceven said, “or perhaps not.”
“Queen Niceven,” I said.
She turned to me, her face carefully passive, her thin hands folded in front of her.
“What do you mean ‘perhaps not’?”
She shrugged. “Oh, someone who can be a fly upon the wall hears things.”
“What sort of things?” I asked.
“Things that I might share with someone who was my ally, and honored their bargains.”
“If you will not take blood directly from me, then I will need a new magical proxy,” I said.
She turned in the air, and looked at Royal and his sister in their rat-drawn cart. “Royal,” she said.
He stood straighter, almost to attention, though without wings he could not be in Niceven’s guard. “Yes, my queen.”
“Would you taste the blood of the princess and share the essence with me?”
“Gladly, my queen.”
Penny clung to him. “Don’t, Royal, don’t do it.”
He drew her away from him, and looked down into her face.