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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 289 из 293“Are you threatening me?”
“No. When I held Galen’s dying body in my arms, I thought it was too dear a price to be queen of any court. I still think it, but thank you, auntie dearest, for reminding me that I will be queen, or I will die.”
“Coming to my bed is not death, Meredith.”
“Some deaths, auntie dearest, are of the soul rather than the body.”
“Are you saying that if I force you it will kill your soul?” She laughed again.
“I am saying that it will kill something inside me, and you will enjoy its death.”
“Yes,” she said, “I will.”
I smelled roses then, a soft, gentle perfume.
Andais looked around her. “What is that smell?”
“Flowers,” I said.
“There are no flowers here.”
I looked into her gore-soaked face. “There will be.” Those three simple words held a promise of weight and power.
“Roses are fragile things, Meredith. They do not grow outside of walls without the skill of gardeners.”
“The wild rose needs no walls to protect it,” Doyle said.
She turned and looked at him. “What are you babbling about, Darkness?”
“Can you not smell it, Queen Andais? It is the scent of the meadow rose, the bramble rose, and it needs no walls to protect it, nor gardener to tend it. In fact, it is almost impossible to dig out or destroy once it takes root.”
“I did not know you had such an interest in gardening, Darkness.”
“This is a rose that makes its own garden wherever it happens to grow.”
She stared at him, studying his impassive face, as if she saw something there that I could not read. “Do not fall too far in love with the rose, Darkness, for it has thorns.”
“Yes,” he said, “we must all beware the thorns when we seek to pick the rose.”
“And will you prick me with your thorn, Darkness?”
“What good is a thorn to the rose, if it does not draw blood.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked.
“What if that piece of her soul that you steal away is the piece that calls to the sithen? What if the piece of her happiness that you destroy is the very piece the Goddess calls to? Would you destroy all that has been awakened for a dark whim?”
“I am queen here, Darkness.”
“And your brother Essus loved you well,” he said.
That seemed odd even to me, and the queen frowned. “Why do you speak of my brother?”
“Why was Essus not king?” he asked in that empty voice.
She frowned at him. “He refused the throne.
“No. When I held Galen’s dying body in my arms, I thought it was too dear a price to be queen of any court. I still think it, but thank you, auntie dearest, for reminding me that I will be queen, or I will die.”
“Coming to my bed is not death, Meredith.”
“Some deaths, auntie dearest, are of the soul rather than the body.”
“Are you saying that if I force you it will kill your soul?” She laughed again.
“I am saying that it will kill something inside me, and you will enjoy its death.”
“Yes,” she said, “I will.”
I smelled roses then, a soft, gentle perfume.
Andais looked around her. “What is that smell?”
“Flowers,” I said.
“There are no flowers here.”
I looked into her gore-soaked face. “There will be.” Those three simple words held a promise of weight and power.
“Roses are fragile things, Meredith. They do not grow outside of walls without the skill of gardeners.”
“The wild rose needs no walls to protect it,” Doyle said.
She turned and looked at him. “What are you babbling about, Darkness?”
“Can you not smell it, Queen Andais? It is the scent of the meadow rose, the bramble rose, and it needs no walls to protect it, nor gardener to tend it. In fact, it is almost impossible to dig out or destroy once it takes root.”
“I did not know you had such an interest in gardening, Darkness.”
“This is a rose that makes its own garden wherever it happens to grow.”
She stared at him, studying his impassive face, as if she saw something there that I could not read. “Do not fall too far in love with the rose, Darkness, for it has thorns.”
“Yes,” he said, “we must all beware the thorns when we seek to pick the rose.”
“And will you prick me with your thorn, Darkness?”
“What good is a thorn to the rose, if it does not draw blood.”
“Is that a threat?” she asked.
“What if that piece of her soul that you steal away is the piece that calls to the sithen? What if the piece of her happiness that you destroy is the very piece the Goddess calls to? Would you destroy all that has been awakened for a dark whim?”
“I am queen here, Darkness.”
“And your brother Essus loved you well,” he said.
That seemed odd even to me, and the queen frowned. “Why do you speak of my brother?”
“Why was Essus not king?” he asked in that empty voice.
She frowned at him. “He refused the throne.