"Joel Rosenberg - Omnibus 03 - To Home and Ehvenor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenberg Joel C)

doesn't give me any thrill. It did give Tennetty a lot of pleasure, which is why I was nervous about going
hunting with her.

Frankly, I'd just as soon have skipped it all. Playing with weapons is an inadequate Freudian substitute,
no matter how big and manly the bow is, or how far and fast it can shoot.

Jason frowned. Sometimes I can almost read minds: giving Tennetty permission had been easy, but it
was harder for him to decide whether his sense of duty prevented, permitted, or demanded that he go
along.

He finally came down on the side of having fun, although from which angle I wouldn't have wanted to
bet.

"I haven't been hunting in a long time," Jason said, tossing the weight of the world from his shoulders for
a moment. He relaxed, just a trifle.

I was tempted to turn this into a lesson about not assuming an invitation, but decided to let it pass. Ever
since Jason had traded the silver crown of the Emperor of Holtun-Bieme in on the barony, he hadn't had
a lot of time to relax, and he deserved a morning off.

"Sure," I said. "Come on."

"Good morning," Aeia Cullinane said as she walked into the breakfast room, my daughter Janie at her
side, the two of them complicating my day while they brightened it.

"Morning, Daddy. Morning, all." Janie bent to kiss me on the cheek. Short black hair and bangs that
always try to cover the eyes, thin limbs fleshing out almost daily, mannish leather breeches covered by a
muslin shirt belted tight to show slim waist and slender curves: my teenage daughter. Sixteen, barely, but
This Side sixteen, not Other Side sixteen. They seem to grow up faster here than I remember them doing
there.

"Morning, sweetness," I said.

She slipped into the chair next to Jason and reached for a hunk of bread while Aeia struck a pose while
pretending to decide where to sit. I didn't mind; I was enjoying the view.

There's a sharp mind behind the bright eyes that have just a touch of a slant to them. Part of her
sunbleached hair was bound behind her in a ponytail, leaving the rest to frame her face, wisps of hair
touching at high cheekbones. She was dressed, to the extent that shewas dressed, in a short white silk
robe, its hem cut diagonally, about knee-length on the left side, mid-thigh on the right. It was a great
view, but a bad idea, probably; the guards were a rough lot.

Jason frowned at his adopted sister. "Do me a favor?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Depends."

"Put some clothes on before you come out of your room, eh?" The master-of-the-house voice didn't
quite fit, not yet, but it was getting better.

"What do you call this?" she brushed a hand down one side.