Rhianon – Princess of Fire. Natalie Yacobson

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СКАЧАТЬ winged fairies at all, it has contributed to the sending of pestilence and disease, secret poisonings, spoiling, hundreds of ways to drive a person with spells, while remaining above suspicion. Rhianon despised such people who, hiding behind a corner, slowly and painfully killed others, while they themselves always remained innocent to witnesses. Such were all her friends and vassals. They would never lie and pretend not to believe in anything, but black magic had already enslaved each and every one of them. After all, it was such an easy way to achieve your goal, to take out your enemy, to intrigue, to corrupt those you envy. Spells could not create beautiful creatures with wings, but they killed, brought misery and enmity. If one could believe in a world of beautiful fairies, if one could use enchantments to create or summon an unearthly winged lover to one’s empty royal bedroom. But that was impossible. One could only be enchanted to torment each other. The intrigue wove slowly but ruinously. People often sat at the same feast table, expecting each other’s deaths from one day to the next, but they all smiled sweetly at each other, hiding their thoughts. And Rhianon could read the thoughts of them all, so she alone was getting sick at noisy receptions. She alone by her silence aroused the suspicion, because she could not laugh and joke with those whose secret plans terrified her. So she read and about what they want to do to herself, and she ran away, but if she ran away from the castle, she could again believe that there is a magical world and under the ground, on which she now treads may well be a friendly clanging hammers dwarves – smiths.

      The girl sighed. How long ago she had believed in beauty! And that belief had worn thin, killed by the intricacies of palace intrigue and the cruelty of life.

      Rhianon fixed an unruly lock of gold that had fallen from her beret. It would have been better to cut her hair, at least then there would be less danger of exposure, but foolish sentimentality would not allow her to get rid of the heavy golden braid. That way, at least, anyone who saw her would still be able to believe in magic. Her beauty has always been called magical.

      «Where are we going?» Rhianon looked out over the same monotonous forest landscape in front of them. In the darkness, even the splendor of colorful autumn foliage could not diminish the overall impression. It was a lost place, and her companion was leading her deeper and deeper into it.

      «Be patient,» he said with a strained nonchalance, «we’re nearly there.»

      «Come? We’re nearly there!» She involuntarily reached for the dart she had hidden in her boot.

      «Hey, are you trying to tell me you don’t trust me after the way I saved your life back at the tavern?» The escort, who had evidently noticed that she was drawing her weapon somehow, became alarmed. God, aren’t there eyes on his back?

      «Saving mtis life is an overstatement,» Rhianon corrected him; she didn’t like to be obligated to anyone, much less such a strange-looking fellow.

      «You mean the King’s soldiers didn’t scare you?» He tried to crack a joke.

      «What king is this?» Rhianon involuntarily broke out in a huff and no longer felt cold even as she struggled to contain the heat and fire that was coursing through her veins. That’s how others were warmed by the wine they drank. She leaned tiredly against a tree trunk. Is it any wonder that the mention of impostors and regents infuriates the only legitimate heir? It was a truth she could explain to no one without losing her head.

      «I wasn’t serious,» her companion suddenly realized he’d overreacted and sprang back toward her, «just don’t get upset.»

      His skinny hands tried to touch her shoulders, but Rhianon recoiled. A man’s hands would never be like that, she was sure of that.

      «We should continue on our way.»

      «Yes, of course,» she nodded and tried to push his palms away from her. She could see the sudden twist in his face, and she noticed that he leaned down so that his eyes were hidden by the brim of his hat. Of course she had burned him. And now he tried to hide the burn from her and from himself, though an itchy stain was already spreading over his long, dead-white hand. Did he realize that it was she who had burned him with her touch? People usually didn’t understand. Rarely did anyone realize that it was dangerous to be around her. And few were willing to believe that the fragile princess could incinerate anyone, and then she herself could stand there in bewilderment to see what, in its own words, had happened and why the recent interlocutor now writhing in agony at her feet. Victims rarely suspected anything, and Rhianon burned many. Not that her conscience particularly tormented her when she managed to light the clothes on a negligent guard, or the hair on a lord’s eavesdropping footman, or cause a blaze of fire in the fireplace when the discussions in the throne room reached their limits. Her only regret was that her tiny talent was too insignificant to conquer an entire kingdom. To do little mischief yes, but to assert her own rights to the throne – that with a pair of miraculously lit candles she simply could not do. Yes, if she were to return suddenly, all the candelabras would erupt when she entered the hall and the flames would whisper something in the fireplace, but it would hardly be enough even the heavenly fire itself so that all her enemies would be dead, all the rebellious subdued, and the throne already occupied by an arbitrary regent would be vacant. And to have an army of demons at her back, with only she could control, and powerful supporters, and inexhaustible power. To get her goal, all methods are good.

      Yes, that was her dream. Why be hypocritical or overly noble when others in her country had long ago abandoned nobility. It would be good to defeat them with the same weapons they had used more than once. If only she could, if only her tiny gift would eventually flare up to the point where it would be enough for any exploit. And to take back a kingdom as powerful as Loretta was no mere feat, not even a theme worthy of the tales and legends of the people. Bringing Loretta back was like turning the whole world upside down.

      If only some powerful demon had supposed her help in this, she would have agreed to anything. But all that stood before her was a skinny, buffoonish ghost. He could be compared to a petty demon, a jester spirit, or just a mischievous ghost. Most likely now he would lead her into the swamp and that would be the end of their little nighttime adventure.

      «Shall we go?» He was clearly nervous and was pushing her to where.

      «Are we late for the ball?» she asked irritably, for he had torn her away from all the hard thinking she’d done over and over in her head to make her own strategy, and every time for nothing. It was easier just to watch the falling leaves dance and think about nothing. «You’re in a hurry to get me to a night coven or any other feast of the damned, where everyone expects a man as a treat, and you bring him.

      «Well, yeah, a lot of people have a feast of sorts,» he answered evasively, «but that’s none of our business. Fairies have balls every day, but we’ve never been invited.»

      «Speak for you,» said Rhianon, eyeing his frail and lanky build with disdain. She herself boasted a good – too good – build that often drew attention from men and women alike. In any case, both dreamed of dancing with her, and not just dancing. It was a pity that real balls with quick dances in the castle happened quite seldom. More often it was unhurried movement under the sluggish music of minstrels, moreover, burdened with a heavy dress. And the partners most often were not those she herself had chosen. The castle had lately become a prison. There everyone chose for her, from the page carrying her train and ending even the groom. So now she was no longer in the castle. The fresh air and smells of the forest should have cheered her up, for it was the scent of freedom, but for some reason Rhianon was afraid. Everything about this corner of the forest was somehow wrong, not to mention a very unusual escort.

      And yet she kept following him, warily looking СКАЧАТЬ