"Justine Larbalestier - Strange Horizons - The Cruel Brother" - читать интересную книгу автора (Larbalestier Justine)

"I told you no, and no, and no. I set no task. I saved you. Again. Saved you
from me and me from you."


Hans's face looked as though there were no blood beneath his skin, only bone.
"It was for you, was done to--"
"None of your nonsense," said Greta, pulling away from him, out of his arms.
"We're of blood. You know it is wrong and cursed -- her curse -- and there can
be nothing between us."


"They say a saint is always born of such a union."


Greta slapped the smile from her brother's face. The tears leaked out of her
eyes slow and steady, and then all at once. Greta cried and cried and found
herself in her brother's arms and them wound round tight together till there was
no beginning and no end. And when they were spent, Hans, he slept where he
lay, but Greta woke thinking only that the miracle of their undiscovery could not
last; and not caring if Hans found his way into his Beth's arms, not bothering to
reassemble herself, she made her way to her cot at the back of the house,
away from noise and frivolity; curled up and planned the rest of her life away,
thinking: It's done with, now -- over and gone.


A wedding of her own there must be. A father for her child whose own father
was uncle and father both. She kept herself and Hans apart. No easy task. Greta
told him no and no and no and kept herself steady with her nos though that
oft-repeated word produced bruises bigger than plums on fair Beth's face.


Greta knew her own wedding would be easy. She had heard her beauty praised
often enough. Even the local lord and each and every one of his sons and
knights had tried to tumble her. And besides, there was her dowry, that would
make a beauty of any woman.


The week she plotted to bring the bonds of wedlock about her, there were a
dozen or more offers. She told them all no. Edmund Hayes, Georgie Telfer, and
Georgie's brother Lochie had had their nos before but were content to try for
them once again.


She told herself, as each and every one asked, that she must say yes and be
done, but her tongue betrayed her, and "no" slid out once more. She had
reasons enough behind each shake of her head, but the most of it was that they
would all put at least eight mile between her and her home, between her and
Hans. So her nos continued unabated till William Colven asked. Colven who had