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A Kiss Of Shadows :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 226 из 338I didn't try to keep the surprise off my face. "My only plan for the evening is to survive and not get hurt. That's all."
His eyes narrowed. "I believe you." But his voice sounded uncertain, as if he really wasn't sure he believed me at all. Then he smiled, and said, "I offered her my arm first, Doyle. You're cutting in on my action."
Doyle started to say something, but I got there first. "I've got two arms, Rhys."
His smile widened to a grin. He offered me his arm, and I took it. As I slid my hand over his sleeve, I realized it was my right—the one the ring was on. But the ring didn't react to Rhys. It lay quiet, just a pretty piece of silver.
Rhys saw it, eyes widening. "That's…"
"Yes, it is," Doyle said, quietly.
"But…" Rhys began.
"Yes," Doyle said.
"What?" I asked.
"All in the queen's good time," Doyle said.
"Mysteries make my head hurt," I said.
Rhys did his best Bogart impression. "Then buy a bottle of aspirin, baby, because the night is young."
I looked at him. "Bogart never said that in a movie."
"No," Rhys said in his normal voice. "I was ad-libbing."
I gave his arm a little squeeze. "I think I missed you."
"I know I missed you. No one else at court knows what the hell film noir means."
"I most certainly do," said Doyle.
We both looked at him.
"It means dark film, correct?"
Rhys and I looked at each other and started to laugh. We walked down the hallway to the echoes of our own laughter. Doyle didn't join in. He kept saying things like, "It means dark film, doesn't it?"
It made the last few yards to my aunt's private chambers almost fun.
Chapter 27
ONCE THE DOUBLE DOORS OPENED, THE STONE CHANGED. MY AUNT'S chamber, my queen's chamber, was formed of black stone. A shiny, nearly glasslike stone that looked as if it should shatter at a heavy touch. You could strike it with steel and all you got were colored sparks. It looked like obsidian, but it was infinitely stronger.
Frost stood as close to the door leading into the room as he could, and as far away from the queen. He stood very straight, a shining silver figure in all that blackness, but there was something about the way he held himself that said he was near the door for a reason—a quick getaway, maybe.
The bed was against the far wall, though it was so covered in sheets, blankets, and even furs that it was hard to say whether it was a bed or merely a gigantic pile of covers. There was a man in the bed, a young man.
His eyes narrowed. "I believe you." But his voice sounded uncertain, as if he really wasn't sure he believed me at all. Then he smiled, and said, "I offered her my arm first, Doyle. You're cutting in on my action."
Doyle started to say something, but I got there first. "I've got two arms, Rhys."
His smile widened to a grin. He offered me his arm, and I took it. As I slid my hand over his sleeve, I realized it was my right—the one the ring was on. But the ring didn't react to Rhys. It lay quiet, just a pretty piece of silver.
Rhys saw it, eyes widening. "That's…"
"Yes, it is," Doyle said, quietly.
"But…" Rhys began.
"Yes," Doyle said.
"What?" I asked.
"All in the queen's good time," Doyle said.
"Mysteries make my head hurt," I said.
Rhys did his best Bogart impression. "Then buy a bottle of aspirin, baby, because the night is young."
I looked at him. "Bogart never said that in a movie."
"No," Rhys said in his normal voice. "I was ad-libbing."
I gave his arm a little squeeze. "I think I missed you."
"I know I missed you. No one else at court knows what the hell film noir means."
"I most certainly do," said Doyle.
We both looked at him.
"It means dark film, correct?"
Rhys and I looked at each other and started to laugh. We walked down the hallway to the echoes of our own laughter. Doyle didn't join in. He kept saying things like, "It means dark film, doesn't it?"
It made the last few yards to my aunt's private chambers almost fun.
Chapter 27
ONCE THE DOUBLE DOORS OPENED, THE STONE CHANGED. MY AUNT'S chamber, my queen's chamber, was formed of black stone. A shiny, nearly glasslike stone that looked as if it should shatter at a heavy touch. You could strike it with steel and all you got were colored sparks. It looked like obsidian, but it was infinitely stronger.
Frost stood as close to the door leading into the room as he could, and as far away from the queen. He stood very straight, a shining silver figure in all that blackness, but there was something about the way he held himself that said he was near the door for a reason—a quick getaway, maybe.
The bed was against the far wall, though it was so covered in sheets, blankets, and even furs that it was hard to say whether it was a bed or merely a gigantic pile of covers. There was a man in the bed, a young man.