"Sherwood Smith - Summer Thunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Sherwood)

narrow waist a long knife with a gold-topped black handle. His pale hair was neatly
braided and looped back. His face was square, strong bones, eyes of light blue, his manner
extraordinarily still; he drew the eye despite the more flamboyantly dressed cousin
Macayal of Enaeran at his side, tall, also blond, easy of manner, and laughing.


A short time later Ivandred stood in the center of a spacious chamber, the walls hung in
pale green watered silk, the quilt matching, and faced this same cousin. "I don't know
about that bed. Looks like a whole lot of pillows. Stifling."


"Then sleep on the carpet," Macayal said. "No one will know, unless you invite someone
in. But you'd better get rid of the day's horse sweat and dress for the musical concert,
unless you want to lose our little wager by offending the princess's pretty little nose."


Ivandred tossed down his riding gloves. "You really want to go through with this wager?"


Macayal laughed. "Trepidation? You?"


Ivandred shrugged. "If this princess is half as beautiful as rumor promises, she won't give
either of us a look. You said, here in the east your Enaeran is considered remote from
their fashions. I can see it is true. Then to their eyes Marloven Hesea is a barrack."


"A huge one," Macayal observed, amused. "Biggest one on the continent."


Ivandred opened a hand.


Macayal laughed, masking no reference to his real motive.


Ivandred's sister Tharais had taken Macayal aside the day they reached Remalna after
their long journey east, he and Ivandred having ridden to escort her to her wedding in
Remalna. She'd murmured, He will never tell you how bad things are at home. Will you
keep him busy here in the east, as long as you can?


Macayal thought of his uncle, the king of Marloven Hesea: bitter, violent, and dangerous.
Macayal wanted to keep his word to his cousin Thar, whom he loved like a sister, but
how?


Until they heard talk at Remalna's court of the beautiful princess Lasthavais, supposedly
as handsome as her infamous ancestor, Emperor Matthias, who had used the wits, charm,
and astonishing good looks he'd inherited from his equally famous mother, Lasthavais Dei,