"Dave Duncan - A Man Of His Word 1 - Magic Casement" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

captains from the Impire and the foreboding flaxen-hair jotnar of Nordland-tall
men with ice-blue eyes that could send shivers down Inos's arms. She might even
see a few sinister goblins from the forest, each leading a party of his wives,
loaded with bundles of furs.
Then Inos stumbled to a halt halfway down an open staircase. It was wide and
sunny. It was deserted except for two women standing in conversation, but one of
them was Mother Unonini, the palace chaplain. From the way the two were poised
to move, they were just about to complete their chat. If Mother Unonini looked
up and saw Inos unescorted, she would certainly have questions to ask.
A door opened beside Inos, emitting a woman with a package under her arm. Inos
smiled at her, took hold of the door, and went in, closing it firmly in a tinkle
of silver bell. The small room was lined by shelves bearing rolls of fabrics.
The large lady in the middle was Mistress Meolorne. She looked up, hesitated,
and then curtsied. Rather flattered by that, Inos bobbed in return. She had come
shopping, she decided-a most ladylike occupation to which no one, even Aunt
Kade, could possibly object.
"Your Highness is the only lady in Krasnegar who could wear this. "
"I am? I mean, why do you say so?"
Mistress Meolorne beamed and bunched rosy cheeks. "Because of the green, your
Highness. It exactly matches your eyes. Your eyes are exceptional, remarkable!
They are the key to your beauty, you know. I believe you have the only truly
green eyes in the kingdom."
Beauty? Inos peered at the mirror. She was draped in a flowing miracle of green
and gold silk. Of course she had green eyes, but now that she thought about it,
who else did?
"Imps like myself have dark brown eyes," Meolorne said.
"And the jotnar have blue. Everyone but you has either brown eyes or blue."
Rap had gray eyes, but Meolorne could not be expected to know a minor palace
flunky. Everyone else was either jotunn or imp, one or the other. Imps were
short and dark. Jotnar were tall and fair. In summer, jotnar turned red and
peeled disgustingly. Imps tended to sicken in winter.
"I'm neither, am I? Mistress, I don't think I've ever thought of that!" Inos's
father had brown hair and... brown eyes. Paler brown than most, she decided.
"You are a diplomatic compromise, your Highness, if I may say so? Your royal
father rules both imps and jotnar here in Krasnegar. It would be inappropriate
for him to favor either one or the other. "
Inos was about to ask if that made her a halfbreed, then thought better of it.
Of course the kings of Krasnegar could not be a pure strain. For generations
they had played off their predatory neighbors by taking wives from first this
side and then that. Normally when imp and jotunn married, the traits did not
mingle, and the children took after one parent or the other, but so many royal
outcrosses had eventually produced a true mixture in Inos. She must remember to
ask her father about it. How curious that she had never noticed before! She was
neither tall nor short. Her hair was a rich deep gold, not the flaxen of a
jotunn. She did not peel in summer-indeed she took on a splendid tan. And she
certainly did not pine in the long nights, as the imps did. She was a true
Krasnegarian, and the only one.
"The bronze for your complexion, the gold for your hair, and the green for your
eyes," Mistress Meolorne murmured. "It was designed by the Gods especially for
you."