JК
Swallowing Darkness :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 63 из 242We have missed the Shadow Lord, but if the Storm Lord dies this night, then we will be rewarded."
"If Mistral dies this night, Barris, you will follow him, and soon. This I promise you." The mare shifted underneath me, uneasy.
"Even you, Barris, must know what a promise like that means when the princess sits a horse of the wild hunt," Sholto said.
Barris swallowed hard, then said, "If she breaks the promise, the hunt will destroy her."
"Yes," Sholto said, "so you had better talk while there is still time to save the Storm Lord."
His eyes with their circles of blue showed too much white like a frightened horse. One of the hounds nudged his leg, and he made a small sound that in anyone else would have been a scream. But the nobles of the Seelie Court did not scream just because a dog nudged them.
Finbar said, "Remember who you are, Barris."
He looked back at his father. "I remember who I am, Father, but you taught me that all are equal before the hunt. Did you not call it the great leveler?" Barris's voice held sorrow, or perhaps disappointment. The fear was beginning to fade under the weight of years. Years of never quite being what his father wanted in a son. Years of knowing that though he looked every inch a Seelie noble, he was pretending as hard as he could.
I looked at Barris, who had always seemed as perfectly arrogant as all the rest. I had never seen beyond that perfect, handsome mask. Was it the magic of the hunt that was giving me clear vision, or had I simply assumed that if you looked perfectly sidhe — tall, thin, and so perfect — you would be happy and secure? Had I truly still believed that beauty was security? That if I had only been taller, thinner, less human-looking and more sidhe my life would have been... perfect?
I looked into Barris's face, saw all that disappointment, all that failure, because his beauty hadn't been enough to win him his father's heart.
I felt something I hadn't expected: pity.
"Help us save Mistral and you may yet keep your life. Keep silent, let him die, and I cannot help you, Barris."
Sholto looked at me, his face careful not to show surprise, but I think he'd heard that note of pity in my voice, and found it unexpected. I couldn't blame him. Barris had helped kill my grandmother, and tried to kill my lovers, my future kings, but it hadn't been him. He had been trying to please his father, and had bargained with the only asset he had, his pure sidhe blood and all that tall, unnaturally slender beauty.
Finbar had had nothing to bargain with with Cair except his son's pale beauty.
"If Mistral dies this night, Barris, you will follow him, and soon. This I promise you." The mare shifted underneath me, uneasy.
"Even you, Barris, must know what a promise like that means when the princess sits a horse of the wild hunt," Sholto said.
Barris swallowed hard, then said, "If she breaks the promise, the hunt will destroy her."
"Yes," Sholto said, "so you had better talk while there is still time to save the Storm Lord."
His eyes with their circles of blue showed too much white like a frightened horse. One of the hounds nudged his leg, and he made a small sound that in anyone else would have been a scream. But the nobles of the Seelie Court did not scream just because a dog nudged them.
Finbar said, "Remember who you are, Barris."
He looked back at his father. "I remember who I am, Father, but you taught me that all are equal before the hunt. Did you not call it the great leveler?" Barris's voice held sorrow, or perhaps disappointment. The fear was beginning to fade under the weight of years. Years of never quite being what his father wanted in a son. Years of knowing that though he looked every inch a Seelie noble, he was pretending as hard as he could.
I looked at Barris, who had always seemed as perfectly arrogant as all the rest. I had never seen beyond that perfect, handsome mask. Was it the magic of the hunt that was giving me clear vision, or had I simply assumed that if you looked perfectly sidhe — tall, thin, and so perfect — you would be happy and secure? Had I truly still believed that beauty was security? That if I had only been taller, thinner, less human-looking and more sidhe my life would have been... perfect?
I looked into Barris's face, saw all that disappointment, all that failure, because his beauty hadn't been enough to win him his father's heart.
I felt something I hadn't expected: pity.
"Help us save Mistral and you may yet keep your life. Keep silent, let him die, and I cannot help you, Barris."
Sholto looked at me, his face careful not to show surprise, but I think he'd heard that note of pity in my voice, and found it unexpected. I couldn't blame him. Barris had helped kill my grandmother, and tried to kill my lovers, my future kings, but it hadn't been him. He had been trying to please his father, and had bargained with the only asset he had, his pure sidhe blood and all that tall, unnaturally slender beauty.
Finbar had had nothing to bargain with with Cair except his son's pale beauty.