"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

Seventy-one

Seventy-two

Seventy-three

Seventy-four

Seventy-five

Seventy-six

Seventy-seven

Seventy-eight

Seventy-nine

Eighty

Eighty-one

Eighty-two

Epilogue





PRELUDE


Qhuinn, son of Lohstrong, entered his familyтАЩs home through its grand front door. The instant he stepped over the threshold, the smell of the place curled up into his nose. Lemon polish. Beeswax candles. Fresh flowers from the garden that the doggen brought in daily. PerfumeтАФhis motherтАЩs. CologneтАФhis fatherтАЩs and his brotherтАЩs. Cinnamon gumтАФhis sisterтАЩs.

If the Glade company ever did an air freshener like this, it would be called something like Meadow of Old Money. Or Sunrise over a Fat Bank Account.

Or maybe the ever-popular WeтАЩre Just Better Than Everyone Else.

Distant voices drifted over from the dining room, the vowels round as brilliant-cut diamonds, the consonants drawled out smooth and long as satin ribbons.

тАЬOh, Lillie, this is lovely, thank you,тАЭ his mother said to the server. тАЬBut thatтАЩs too much for me. And do not give Solange so all that. SheтАЩs getting heavy.тАЭ

Ah, yes, his motherтАЩs perma-diet inflicted on the next generation: Glymera females were supposed to disappear from sight when they turned sideways, each jutting collarbone, sunken cheek, and bony upper arm some kind of fucked-up badge of honor.

As if resembling like a fire poker would make you a better person.

And Scribe Virgin forefend if your daughter looked like she was healthy.