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A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 224 из 338He turned and moved down the hallway, back the way they'd come. "The queen awaits your presence." He walked away without looking back to see if we were following.
Rhys came up beside me. He slid an arm across my shoulders and hugged me. "I'm glad you're back."
I leaned into him briefly. "Thanks, Rhys."
He gave me a small shake. "I missed you, Green-eyes."
Rhys even more than Galen spoke modern English. He loved slang. His favorite author was Dashiell Hammett; his favorite movie, The Maltese Falcon with Humphrey Bogart. Rhys had a house outside the mound city. He had electricity and a television set. I'd spent quite a few weekends at his house. He'd introduced me to old films, and when I was sixteen we'd gone to a film noir festival at the Tivoli in St. Louis. He'd dressed in a fedora and a trench coat. He'd even found me period clothes so I could hang on his arm like a femme fatale.
Rhys had made it clear on that trip that he thought of me as more than a little sister. Nothing we could get killed over, but enough that it was a real date. After that, my aunt made sure we didn't spend much time together. Galen and I teased each other unmercifully in a very sexual way, but the queen seemed to trust Galen, as did I. Neither of us quite trusted Rhys.
Rhys offered me his arm.
Doyle stepped up to my other side. I thought he would offer his own arm so that I would be wedged between them. Instead, he said, "Go down the hallway and wait for us."
Frost would have argued or even refused, but not Rhys. "You are the captain of the Guard," he said. It was the answer of a good soldier. He walked around the corner and Doyle moved, moving me with him, a hand on my arm, to watch him move far enough away not to overhear us. Then Doyle edged us back, out of sight of Rhys.
His hand tightened on my upper arm. "What else are you carrying?"
"You trust me to just tell you?" I asked.
"If you give me your word, I will take it," he said.
"I left in danger of my life, Doyle. I need to be able to protect myself."
His hand tightened, and he gave a small shake. "It is my job to protect the court, especially the queen."
"And it's my job to protect myself," I said.
He lowered his voice even further. "No, that is my job. The job of all the Guard."
I shook my head. "No, you are the Queen's Guard. The King's Guard protects Cel. There is no Guard for the princess, Doyle. I was raised very aware of that."
"You always had your contingent of bodyguards, as did your father."
"And look how much that helped him," I said.
Rhys came up beside me. He slid an arm across my shoulders and hugged me. "I'm glad you're back."
I leaned into him briefly. "Thanks, Rhys."
He gave me a small shake. "I missed you, Green-eyes."
Rhys even more than Galen spoke modern English. He loved slang. His favorite author was Dashiell Hammett; his favorite movie, The Maltese Falcon with Humphrey Bogart. Rhys had a house outside the mound city. He had electricity and a television set. I'd spent quite a few weekends at his house. He'd introduced me to old films, and when I was sixteen we'd gone to a film noir festival at the Tivoli in St. Louis. He'd dressed in a fedora and a trench coat. He'd even found me period clothes so I could hang on his arm like a femme fatale.
Rhys had made it clear on that trip that he thought of me as more than a little sister. Nothing we could get killed over, but enough that it was a real date. After that, my aunt made sure we didn't spend much time together. Galen and I teased each other unmercifully in a very sexual way, but the queen seemed to trust Galen, as did I. Neither of us quite trusted Rhys.
Rhys offered me his arm.
Doyle stepped up to my other side. I thought he would offer his own arm so that I would be wedged between them. Instead, he said, "Go down the hallway and wait for us."
Frost would have argued or even refused, but not Rhys. "You are the captain of the Guard," he said. It was the answer of a good soldier. He walked around the corner and Doyle moved, moving me with him, a hand on my arm, to watch him move far enough away not to overhear us. Then Doyle edged us back, out of sight of Rhys.
His hand tightened on my upper arm. "What else are you carrying?"
"You trust me to just tell you?" I asked.
"If you give me your word, I will take it," he said.
"I left in danger of my life, Doyle. I need to be able to protect myself."
His hand tightened, and he gave a small shake. "It is my job to protect the court, especially the queen."
"And it's my job to protect myself," I said.
He lowered his voice even further. "No, that is my job. The job of all the Guard."
I shook my head. "No, you are the Queen's Guard. The King's Guard protects Cel. There is no Guard for the princess, Doyle. I was raised very aware of that."
"You always had your contingent of bodyguards, as did your father."
"And look how much that helped him," I said.