"Andre Norton & Mercedes Lackey - Halfblood Chronicles 02 - Elvenblood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Elvenblood
Book Two of The Halfblood Chronicles
by Andre Norton & Mercedes Lackey




Chapter 1
SHEYRENA HAD GROWN very weary of coos of admiration over the last hour
or so. Human voices, harsh and heavy by elven standards, did not normally grate on
her ears, but they did today.
"Oh, my lady, there has never been a gown so lovely, I swear!" The nameless
blond slave out of her mother's household shook her head over the shimmering folds
of Sheyrena's gown. She probably spoke the truth, by her own standards; it was heavy
damascene silk, of peacock-blue shot through with threads of pearly iridescence. The
color was far more vivid than anything ever seen in nature.
And a more wretched color for me could not be imagined. It would, of course,
completely overwhelm her. She would be a ghost in the stolen costume of the living.
'Truly!" gushed another. "You will ravish the mind of every lord who sees you!"
Only if they have taste for a maiden who resembles a corpse bedecked for her
funeral. No amount of careful makeup would ever give her the coloring to match that
gown.
It was suitable for the vivid beauty of a human concubine, not an elven maid, and
particularly not one who was pale even by the standards of her own race. It was
typical of her father to have chosen something that would display, not her, but the
power, his power, that made it possible.
Sheyrena an Treves closed her ears to the chattering of her human slaves and
wished she could be anywhere but where she was. The windowless, pale blue marble
walls of her dressing room were far too confining at the best of times; now, as it was
crowded with the bodies of not only her own half-dozen slaves, but an additional four
from her mother's retinue, she was not entirely certain there was enough air to go
around. There was too much perfume and heat in here; she wished vaguely for an
escape from all of it.
If only she could be outside! Sitting watching the butterflies in that meadow
Lorryn discovered--or riding along the wall around the estate--she thought
wistfully. For a long moment she was lost in her dreams of escape, her mind far from
this room and all it contained, as she imagined herself riding Lorryn's spirited gelding
in a headlong chase along the sandstone wall, the wind in her face, and Lorryn only a
pace or two ahead of her--
Lorryn, if only you could come and rescue me from this.1 Oh, that is a foolish
thought, you cannot even rescue yourself from the bindings of custom.
Two of her own chief attendants--castoffs from her father's harem, twin redheads
whose names she could never keep straight--said something to her directly and
waited for a response, shaking her out of her dreams. She shook her head slightly and
emerged from her thoughts.
"Please, my lady, it is time for the undergown," the right-hand girl repeated
quietly, with no expression whatsoever. Sheyrena stood up and allowed them to bring
the undergown to her. The slaves were all used to the way she sank into half-trances
by now, and if they felt any impatience with her, they were too well trained to show
it. No slave in the household of V'layn Tylar Lord Treves would ever dare to display