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

in the eyes of her co-wives. She held onto it as she had from the moment she watched her mother
bleed her life out onto the deck plates, remembering that brave woman's final warning.
"Never let them know that you can read."
***
It hadn't been Elizabeth's idea to have him posted to a lumbering superdreadnought that
would never even leave the Star Kingdom's home binary system. Michael's relief when he
learned this was boundless. Even before their father's death, Beth had encouraged Michael to find
his own place, to push his limits. Distracted as she had been by the heavy responsibilities she
assumed after their father's tragic death, Beth still had made time for Michael, listening to the
problems he couldn't seem to discuss with their mother, the dowager Queen Angelique.
To have found that Beth had suddenly changed would have been a new orphaning, worse in
many ways, for on some level Michael expected itтАФindeed, knew he should strive for it, since it
was his place to support his Queen, not hers to support him.
Now that he knew that he would not be undermining his Queen's policy, Michael made an
appointment to see the Fourth Form dean. That he could almost certainly have demanded an
appointment with the commandant of the Academy and been granted it occurred to him, but the
option was as quickly rejected. The Navy could beтАФand wasтАФofficially unyielding where
matters of birth and privilege were concerned. That didn't mean strings weren't quietly pulled in
the background, but anyone who too blatantly abused his position could expect to pay a price
throughout the entire course of his career. Besides, it would have been self-defeating. The
appointment would have been granted to the Crown Prince, not to Midshipman Michael Winton,
and being seen as Crown Prince Michael rather than Midshipman Winton was precisely what
Michael was trying to avoid.
However, if his appointment with the dean came rather more promptly than even a fourth
form midshipman who stood in the top quarter of his class could usually hope for, Michael wasn't
fool enough to refuse it. He arrived promptly, sharp in his undress uniform, every button, and bit
of trim in as perfect order as he and Todd could make them.
Michael saluted crisply when admitted to his superior officer's presence. Indeed, though there
had been those who had expected the Crown Prince to indicate in fashions subtle or less so that in
the past these same officers had bent knee before him, Michael had never given them reason. He
knew, as those who were not close to the Crown never could, how human monarchs were, how
an accident could make an eighteen-year-old queen . . . could make a thirteen-year-old crown
prince.
Michael wondered how many of those officers who expected him to slight them realized how
greatly in awe of them he stood. They had earned their ranks, earned their awards and honors.
The long list of titles Michael heard recited on formal occasions had nothing to do with him,
everything to do with his father.
He thought that Commander Brenda Shrake, Lady Weatherfell, might actually realize how he
felt, for there was a warmth in her pale green eyes that spoke of understanding that in no way
could be confused with indulgence or laxity. The dean's title identified her to Michael as the
holder of a prosperous grant on Sphinx, but long ago Lady Weatherfell had decided that her
calling was in the Navy.
Even the battle that had left traces of scaring on rather stark features, that had bent and
twisted two fingers of her right hand, had not made her renounce her decision. Instead
Commander Shrake had moved with all the wisdom of her long years shipboard to the academy,
where, in addition to her administrative duties, she taught some of the toughest courses in fusion
engineering.
Commander Shrake was a leader within an academy responsible for turning out competent
naval officers on what anyone with any sense must realize was the eve of war. There was no
room for indulgence in her job, but there was room for compassion.