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

anything so insubordinate, as impatience with one of his elven masters. Sheyrena's
handmaids always wore the identical expressions of insipid and vacuous pleasantry
that one would find on the face of a formal portrait. That was the way her father
wanted it, but it always unnerved Sheyrena; she could never tell what they were
thinking.
If I knew what they were thinking, I would at least have some idea of how to think
of them. Then again, I doubt that their thoughts would be very flattering. There is not
much in me, I fear, to inspire a good opinion.
Obedient to their directions, she turned toward the four who bore the gown as
carefully as a holy relic, and lifted her arms. Silk slid softly against her flesh, muffling
her head for a breath, as three slaves pulled the sinuous, soft folds of the sea-green
undergown over her head and arms. They drew it down in place, allowing the skirt to
billow out around her bare feet. The sleeves and body were cut to fit tightly with a
plunging decolletage, the skin flared out from the hips, billowing out into a long
trailing train in the latest style--
So that I look like a green twig being tossed atop a wave. Very attractive. How
can they keep from laughing at me? Another selection by Lord Tylar, of course, to
show that his daughter was no stranger to the highest of fashion. Never mind that the
highest of fashion looked ridiculous on her. On the other hand, did she really want to
look attractive?
No. No, I don t. I don't want a husband, I don't want any changes; as pathetic as
my life is now, I do not want to find myself the property of some lord like my father.
And since Father chose all of this for me, he can hardly blame me for looking
ridiculous. That, in and of itself, was a relief. If Sheyrena failed tonight, her father
would be looking for someone or something to blame, and it would be best if she
gave him no excuse to place that blame on her. Lord Tylar had made it clear to his
wife and daughter that this particular fete was of paramount importance to the House
of Treves. The glee on his face when he had received the invitation, not only to
attend, but to present Sheyrena, had only been equaled the day that he learned that the
price of grain for slave-fodder had tripled due to a blight that his fields had been
spared. While Lord Tylar's lineage was good, it was not great--and his monetary
wealth was due entirely to his successes in the marketplace. Lord Tylar's grandfather
had been a mere pensioner, and only astute management had brought the House of
Treves this far. He was not one of the original High Lords of the Council, but a recent
appointee, and under normal circumstances, he would not ever have found himself in
the company of the House of Hernalth, much less invited to their fete.
"Turn, please, my lady."
The invitation came not by teleson, but by messenger--an elven messenger, not a
human slave, which showed how Lord Tylar's status had increased since the
disastrous conflict with the Elvenbane. Scribed on a thin sheet of pure gold, it could
only have been created magically--an indirect and subtle demonstration of the power
and skill of the creator.
V'kass Ardeyn el-Lord Fortren Lord Hernalth requests the pleasure of the
company of the House of Treves at a fete given in his honor by his guardian, V'sheyl
Edres Lord Fortren, on the occasion of his accession to the lands and position of the
House of Hernalth. He further requests the boon of the presentation of the daughter
of the House of Treves at this fete. No need to mention dates or time; even the least
and poorest of the pensioners on Lord Tylar's estate knew the date of Lord Ardeyn's
accession-fete, just as they knew why the heir to the house of Fortren had inherited
the House of Hernalth--over the strenuous objections of Lord Dyran's brother, it