"Theodora Goss - The Rose in Twelve Petals" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goss Theodora)

from Herr Doktor Ambrosius! His mind wanders, as it often
does, to a house in Berlin and a laboratory smelling of strong
soap, filled with braziers and alembics, books whose covers
have been half-eaten by moths, a stuffed basilisk. He
remembers his bed in the attic, and his sister, who worked as
the Herr Doktor's housemaid so he could learn to be a
magician. He sees her face on her pillow at the spa in Berne
and thinks of her expensive medications.
What has he missed? The crowd is moving forward, and
presents are being given: a rocking horse with a red leather
saddle, a silver tumbler, a cap embroidered by the nuns of
Iona. He hides the volume of Goethe behind his back.
Suddenly, he sees a face he recognizes. One day she came
and sat beside him in the garden, and asked him about his
sister. Her brother had died, he remembers, not long before,
and as he described his loneliness, her eyes glazed over with
tears. Even he, who understands little about court politics,
knew she was the King's mistress.
She disappears behind the scented Marquis, then appears
again, close to the altar where the Queen, awkwardly holding
a linen bundle, is receiving the PrincessтАЩ presents. The King
has seen her, and frowns through his golden beard. Wolfgang
Magus, who knows nothing about the feelings of a king
toward his former mistress, wonders why he is angry.
She lifts her hand in a gesture that reminds him of the
Archbishop. What fragrance is this, so sweet, so dark, that
makes the brain clear, that makes the nostrils water? He
9 The Rose in Twelve Petals
by Theodora Goss
instinctively tabulates: orris-root, oak gall, rose petal, dung of
bat with a hint of vinegar.
Conversations hush, until even the Baronets, clustered in a
rustic clump at the back of the chapel, are silent.
She speaks: тАЬThis is the gift I give the Princess. On her
seventeenth birthday she will prick her finger on the spindle
of a spinning wheel and die.тАЭ
Needless to describe the confusion that follows. Wolfgang
Magus watches from its edge, chewing his mustache, worried,
unhappy. How her eyes glazed, that day in the garden.
Someone treads on his toes.
Then, unexpectedly, he is summoned. тАЬWhere is that
blasted magician!тАЭ Gloved hands push him forward. He stands
before the King, whose face has turned unattractively red.
The Queen has fainted and a bottle of salts is waved under
her nose. The Archbishop is holding the Princess, like a sack
of barley he has accidentally caught.
тАЬIs this magic, Magus, or just some bloody trick?тАЭ
Wolfgang Magus rubs his hands together. He has not
stuttered since he was a child, but he answers, тАЬY-yes, your
Majesty. Magic.тАЭ Sweet, dark, utterly magic. He can smell its