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A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
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I was familiar withthe first title, but not the second. I asked, "Baron Sweet-tongue—I've never heard you called that."
"It is a very old nickname," he said.
"Come, Doyle, you are too modest. It was the queen's pet name for him, once."
The two men looked at each other, and again there was a weight of old grudge in the air. "The name is not for what you assume, Sholto," Doyle said.
"I assume nothing, but I think the sobriquet speaks for itself. Don't you, Meredith?"
"Baron Sweet-tongue does have a certain ambiance," I said.
"It is not for what you think," Doyle repeated.
"Well," Sholto said, "it is certainly not because of your honeyed words."
That was true. Doyle didn't go in for long speeches, and he was not an accomplished flatterer. "If you say it's not sexual, then I believe you," I said.
Doyle made a small bow to me. "Thank you."
"The queen doesn't give out pet names except for sex," Sholto said.
"Yes, she does," I said.
"When, and for what?"
"When she thinks the nickname will bother the person bearing it, and because she enjoys being irritating."
"Well, the last is certainly true," Sholto said. He had his hand on the door handle.
"I'm surprised no one barged in on us," I said.
"I put a small spell of aversion on the door. No mortal would want to pass it, and few fey." He started to open the door.
"Don't you want your… limb? They might be able to reattach it."
"It will grow back," he said.
I must have looked as disbelieving as I felt, because he smiled in a half-superior, half-apologetic way. "There are some benefits to being half nightflyer—not many, but a few. I can regenerate any lost body part." He seemed to think about that for a second, then added, "So far, anyway."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't try.
"I think the princess needs to get some rest, so if we could see your friend… " Doyle said.
"Of course." Sholto held the door for us.
"What about the mess?" I asked. "We're just going to leave bits of tentacle and blood all over the floor?"
"The baron made the mess, let him clean it up," Sholto said.
"Neither the body parts nor the blood belong to me," Doyle said. "If you want it cleaned up, I suggest you do it yourself. Who knows what damage a talented witch could do with a body part left lying around?"
Sholto protested, but in the end he slipped the severed tentacle in his coat pocket. They left the body-sized one where it lay.
I was familiar withthe first title, but not the second. I asked, "Baron Sweet-tongue—I've never heard you called that."
"It is a very old nickname," he said.
"Come, Doyle, you are too modest. It was the queen's pet name for him, once."
The two men looked at each other, and again there was a weight of old grudge in the air. "The name is not for what you assume, Sholto," Doyle said.
"I assume nothing, but I think the sobriquet speaks for itself. Don't you, Meredith?"
"Baron Sweet-tongue does have a certain ambiance," I said.
"It is not for what you think," Doyle repeated.
"Well," Sholto said, "it is certainly not because of your honeyed words."
That was true. Doyle didn't go in for long speeches, and he was not an accomplished flatterer. "If you say it's not sexual, then I believe you," I said.
Doyle made a small bow to me. "Thank you."
"The queen doesn't give out pet names except for sex," Sholto said.
"Yes, she does," I said.
"When, and for what?"
"When she thinks the nickname will bother the person bearing it, and because she enjoys being irritating."
"Well, the last is certainly true," Sholto said. He had his hand on the door handle.
"I'm surprised no one barged in on us," I said.
"I put a small spell of aversion on the door. No mortal would want to pass it, and few fey." He started to open the door.
"Don't you want your… limb? They might be able to reattach it."
"It will grow back," he said.
I must have looked as disbelieving as I felt, because he smiled in a half-superior, half-apologetic way. "There are some benefits to being half nightflyer—not many, but a few. I can regenerate any lost body part." He seemed to think about that for a second, then added, "So far, anyway."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't try.
"I think the princess needs to get some rest, so if we could see your friend… " Doyle said.
"Of course." Sholto held the door for us.
"What about the mess?" I asked. "We're just going to leave bits of tentacle and blood all over the floor?"
"The baron made the mess, let him clean it up," Sholto said.
"Neither the body parts nor the blood belong to me," Doyle said. "If you want it cleaned up, I suggest you do it yourself. Who knows what damage a talented witch could do with a body part left lying around?"
Sholto protested, but in the end he slipped the severed tentacle in his coat pocket. They left the body-sized one where it lay.