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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 41 из 293“I am certain if there is evidence to find,they will find it.”
“If,” she said, and she started pacing the room again, but slowly, quietly this time. “‘If’ means you are not certain. ‘If’ means, dear niece, that you may bring all this upon us and the murderer may go free. If we bring in the police and they do not solve the reporter’s death, it will undo all the good publicity I have acquired for us in the last two decades.”
“I think it will work, but either way the media will be impressed with your willingness to allow the modern police into your faerie mound. No one has ever done that, not even at the golden court.”
She glanced back at me, but she was moving, slowly, toward Barinthus. He was indeed kneeling at the foot of her bed, on a black fur rug. “You think we will gain media points over Taranis and his shining people.”
“I think this will show that we meant no harm to anyone, and that such things are not tolerated among the Unseelie, contrary to all those centuries of dark talk.”
She stood in front of Barinthus now, but still spoke to me. “You truly believe that the media will forgive us allowing one of their own to be murdered simply because we invite in the police?”
“I think some of them would slaughter their own photographers on altars, with incense and prayers, to get a chance at covering this story.”
“Clever, Meredith, very clever.” She turned to Barinthus then. She stroked her hand down the side of his face, like you’d touch a lover, though I knew she had never taken him to her bed. “Why did you never try to make a king of my son?”
Unless Barinthus and the queen had been having a very different conversation, the question seemed out of nowhere.
“You do not want me to answer that question, Queen Andais,” he said in his deep, sighing voice.
“Yes,” she said, still stroking his face, “yes, I do.”
“You will not like it.”
“I have not liked many things of late. Answer the question, Kingmaker. I know that if my brother, Essus, had been willing, you would have had him kill me and put himself on the throne. But he would not slay his own sister. He would not have that sin on his heart. Still, you thought he would be a better king than I a queen, didn’t you?”
Dangerous questions. Barinthus said again, “You do not want the truth, my queen.”
“I know the truth of that question. I’ve known that for centuries, but I do not know why you never looked to Cel. He approached you after Essus died. He offered to help you slay me, if you would help put him on the throne early.
“If,” she said, and she started pacing the room again, but slowly, quietly this time. “‘If’ means you are not certain. ‘If’ means, dear niece, that you may bring all this upon us and the murderer may go free. If we bring in the police and they do not solve the reporter’s death, it will undo all the good publicity I have acquired for us in the last two decades.”
“I think it will work, but either way the media will be impressed with your willingness to allow the modern police into your faerie mound. No one has ever done that, not even at the golden court.”
She glanced back at me, but she was moving, slowly, toward Barinthus. He was indeed kneeling at the foot of her bed, on a black fur rug. “You think we will gain media points over Taranis and his shining people.”
“I think this will show that we meant no harm to anyone, and that such things are not tolerated among the Unseelie, contrary to all those centuries of dark talk.”
She stood in front of Barinthus now, but still spoke to me. “You truly believe that the media will forgive us allowing one of their own to be murdered simply because we invite in the police?”
“I think some of them would slaughter their own photographers on altars, with incense and prayers, to get a chance at covering this story.”
“Clever, Meredith, very clever.” She turned to Barinthus then. She stroked her hand down the side of his face, like you’d touch a lover, though I knew she had never taken him to her bed. “Why did you never try to make a king of my son?”
Unless Barinthus and the queen had been having a very different conversation, the question seemed out of nowhere.
“You do not want me to answer that question, Queen Andais,” he said in his deep, sighing voice.
“Yes,” she said, still stroking his face, “yes, I do.”
“You will not like it.”
“I have not liked many things of late. Answer the question, Kingmaker. I know that if my brother, Essus, had been willing, you would have had him kill me and put himself on the throne. But he would not slay his own sister. He would not have that sin on his heart. Still, you thought he would be a better king than I a queen, didn’t you?”
Dangerous questions. Barinthus said again, “You do not want the truth, my queen.”
“I know the truth of that question. I’ve known that for centuries, but I do not know why you never looked to Cel. He approached you after Essus died. He offered to help you slay me, if you would help put him on the throne early.