"David Weber - Worlds of Honor 4 - Service of the Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

"Are you feeling all right, Carlie?"
"Fine," she managed. "Just got a little wine down the wrong pipe."
Tab nodded, reassured, and turned to answer a question put to him by Captain Boniece. When
Carlie again turned her gaze to Mr. Winton, the prince was politely talking to his near neighbor,
his expression as correct as it had been all evening.
But Carlie knew what she had seen, and again doubted to the depths of her heart whether this
prince could ever humble himself from his position of power and privilege to embrace the life of
service that was at the heart and soul of what it meant to be a true naval officer.
***
Michael didn't know if he was going to survive this middy cruise. It wasn't just the workload,
though he had done a quiet survey of his own as compared to his fellows and knew that it wasn't
just his imagination that Lieutenant Dunsinane heaped more on him than on any of the other
eleven middies.
It wasn't that about half of his ostensible free time was taken up by the diplomatic corps
briefings, briefings thatтАФto himтАФseemed unnecessary, since his job was to be seen but, as
Lawler stated over and over again, definitely not heard.
 It was the isolation that was killing him.
Michael had lived for fifteen days now crowded into a berth furnished with six double bunks,
each bunk furnished with its tenant, and he had yet to have a decent conversation with anyoneтАФ
not even with several people who, on Saganami Island, he would have called friends.
Michael wasn't a fool. He'd even expected something like this. It took time for people to get
used to the idea that they were rooming with someone who, if he talked about his sister, was
talking about the Queen. Michael and his first roommate at Saganami Island had been stiff and
formal strangers for a few weeks, but eventually Sam had become comfortable enough with the
idea of rooming with royalty that Michael hadn't felt like he was letting the Crown down by
walking around in his underwear.
He and Sam had never become buddies, but they had become solid acquaintances. Maybe
helped by a bit of distance, Michael had made his best friends among those who didn't have to
share living quarters with him. Foremost among these had been Todd Liatt, who had bridged that
final gap to become Michael's roommate later on.
What wouldn't Michael give to have Toad-breath here now! That psychic radar of Todd's
would pin down why it was that Lieutenant Dunsinane never looked at Michael without her
expression turning stiff as an armorplast bulkhead. But Todd wasn't here and Michael didn't want
to think what Lieutenant Dunsinane would think of him if she caught him looking at her public
record. It was pretty clear she didn't think much of him already.
Michael could have kicked himself up one side of the hull and around the other when he saw
the ATO's expression there at Captain Boniece's dinner party. He'd been feeling so good about
getting through that toast that he'd slipped, remembering how Beth had teased him regarding that
very earth-shattering event while he was on his last leave.
"And don't forget you'll have to toast the Queen," she had said primly one morning over a
very informal breakfast. "You're my officer now, you know."
Michael had seen an irresistible opportunity.
"Let me practice, Your Majesty," he'd said, and rising to his feet he'd picked up the entire
plate of freshly toasted bread slices and up-ended them over her head.
Beth had shrieked like they were both kids again, and started throwing toast at him, her
treecat Ariel joining the game with pinpoint enthusiasm. The sound had pulled Justin out of his
drowsy perusal of the morning newsfax, and brought Queen Mother Angelique into the room at
an undignified run.
The memory of Beth's reaction had brought a smile to Michael's lips, a smile he had instantly
tried to suppress lest he be seen as irreverent at this most solemn occasion. Unhappily, he'd