Название | Rhianon-7. Queen of Vinor |
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Автор произведения | Natalie Yacobson |
Жанр | |
Серия | |
Издательство | |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9785005904058 |
Rhianon was distracted only at the sight of the ripe fruit. The tiered platters in the center of the tables filled with grapes, apples, and pears resembled a cornucopia. She reached for an orange, touched the juicy crust with her fingernails, and smiled. The fresh fruit reminded her of fairies. She didn’t want to eat them at all, but touching them made her feel closer to nature. Perhaps if she walked through the garden and looked closely at the trees, she would find that one of them belonged to a dryad who looked like Phylliss. Rhianon slid her gaze over peaches, pomegranates, gooseberries, black and red currants. The fruits and berries resembled both gems and fresh fairies’ kisses at the same time.
Rhianon remembered herself dancing in a circle of ethereal ladies. Now another company awaited her. The magical society was far away. And yet in the ballroom she encountered a girl who reminded her strikingly of Phylliss. One quick touch left her feeling fresh, as if leaves had slid down her arm. Rhianon turned around, but she couldn’t see the girl in green anymore. But Ferdinand was beside her. They were to open the ball. Several more days of festivities would be, there would be hunting, tournaments, and masquerades. Rhianon had not expected to see her unearthly friends at one of them, and yet a tiny hope lingered in her heart. Her hand, in the place where the stranger had touched it, still had a kind of freshness about it.
Rhianon heard the first sounds of music, felt Ferdinand’s fingers on her waist, she began to move to the beat of the tune. But everything happened so mechanically. She couldn’t even bring herself to smile. Her senses wound up like the mechanism of that huge angelic clock and now she involuntarily moved along the dashed hand. It was as if her desires were guided by extraneous forces. Was this fate? Rhianon did not want to believe in fate. She also wanted to enjoy the dance, but she could not. Maybe it was the white brocade dress that restricted her movement. She felt constrained. The ceremonial attire was heavy, of course, but not so heavy that she could not move. The dance steps were difficult for her. The guests must have noticed that she kept turning away from the bridegroom and not because of her modesty.
She must have thought she saw someone’s wings rustling outside the window. Was someone leaning against the glass? No, then the guests would have noticed it too. True, one of the footmen who lit the chandeliers near the windows was frightened, but Rhianon could not read his thoughts. She felt too weakened and the simplest magic did not even come easily to her. Tomorrow would be different, and today her eyes were closing.
«A feast can be a harbinger of mourning,» the spirit whispered in her ear, «but for now, have fun.
She couldn’t have fun. A large floor clock was striking midnight somewhere in the distance, and she felt as if she could hear the devil’s chimes from a heavenly palace. And they were measuring not the time of her life, but the whole eternity. The countdown had begun. After that the war begins. Everything was written.
Rhianon shook her head wearily. She pulled away hastily, feeling Ferdinand’s lips almost touch her forehead and at that very moment something flashed through the void. She didn’t even remember exactly what she saw. A familiar silhouette flashed somewhere by the fireplace, and then he was standing right beside her. It was her angel, or just a ghost of him. And it wasn’t ruby dust on his cheeks, but drops of blood. Is he crying blood? Why does she think he has a crown of thorns in his hair? Rhianon opened her eyes wide, but she could see nothing. When she was agitated, she couldn’t control her flames. Now it seemed to be just such a moment, because the dress of one of the court ladies suddenly burst into flames. The poor girl didn’t even realize what was wrong. By the time she realized she had to put out the flaming outfit, the fire had already spread to others. There were many servants, it would certainly be put out, only it seemed to Rhianon that there was more to it. It seemed that the stables near the castle and some buildings in the city were also occupied. She could almost see the dwarves running wild, forced out of their comfort zone. She caught their coarse curses. Well, they had every right to hold a grudge if she accidentally set fire to their usual hiding places. Except that she was somehow certain that this time it wasn’t just her fire that had caused the many nighttime fires in Vinor.
Love is a Rose
The stables below burst into flames. The dried hay took over faster than turpentine. Madael heard the muffled shouts of the dwarves hastily leaving the stables. The dwarves who had been combing the horses’ manes up to that point even rushed to dump buckets of water to save their pets. And they, too, were afraid of fire. For a moment he was even ashamed that he had channeled his anger unnecessarily. But he should not have had a conscience. The frail voice that broke through the devil’s mind was quickly silenced. People don’t have consciences, why should he?
He clenched his fingers so tightly that the claws dug into his palm. With these very claws he’d been pounding the city’s roofs today until he could peel away entire strata of iron. Now the deep scratch marks would remain for a long time on the spires of the main cathedrals and the copper plating on the highest roofs. After sitting there all day, he already felt like a statue. In the overcast sky above him, even the birds had fallen away. Today he was angry and desperate. The echoes of the unearthly hours echoed in his mind like hell. There was probably nothing else for them to go on. It was done! He felt betrayed.
It was painful. After the fall, he hadn’t even imagined that there was a pain he couldn’t bear. As it turned out, there was. It turned out to be a pain stronger than any excruciating sensation he had experienced in the past. It overshadowed everything. He didn’t even think such a thing was possible. This acute sense of loss was beyond his perception. The pain became unbearable. It was joined by something else that pinched and crushed him, something he could not define.
It was as if everything was over. And at the same time it was not over. There would be no end to the pain now, no limit. He clutched his head violently with his hands. No, it had happened before. There was to be no end to the agony to come then, either. There wasn’t. He was used to not seeing any light. And now that the light had come and gone, it was even worse.
It could always be worse. No matter how bad it is now, it is impossible not to imagine even greater torment. The higher powers are inexhaustible in their inventions. Or else he didn’t know it before. Madael wanted to laugh bitterly, but the laughter stuck somewhere deep in his throat. No, you can’t laugh. Not here, not in Vinor. The distant echo of his voice could be heard by everyone, even her. He didn’t want to embarrass her. To think, for the first time in forever, he didn’t want revenge. It was so unnatural, it was even frightening. His hand wasn’t reaching for his sword, and he didn’t want to wring the thin neck of the princess. Sure, the blade in his scabbard begged for blood itself, but not her blood. He would not let that happen. What was he to do now? Fly over Vinor and guard her from all the hordes of people who would welcome a new queen one day and may wish to be treacherous the next. He knew people too well to believe in their sincerity. They too easily succumbed to evil whispers. Often there is no need to whisper. Life does everything. It’s in their nature to be sneaky, to betray. Now Rhianon is admired, in a moment she will be envied. If he does not watch over her and protect her, she will be killed sooner or later. She is too different and superior to humans in every way. They will not forgive her for that. She must be protected from them and even from herself. What he did not think of was ever being anyone’s protector. It was his destiny to be the punishing hand of God and to strike, not to be a shield for anyone. Well, he guessed it’s time to reconsider his fate. He glanced up at the dark skies above Vinor. He challenged them. And it was not for the first time.
He was stronger and more experienced now. Sometimes he felt almost free. The shackles that bound him with each passing century were losing their pristine strength. The farther from heaven, the farther from someone else’s power over him. He could break free. It is not too late. Time is his supporter, not his enemy. If