[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.A coach waited in the street, and she all but pushed him into it.Phyrea rapped on the wall of the coach, and the driver whipped the horses out into traffic.Willem brushed his fingers through his hair and was surprised that it was wet."It's raining," he muttered, not having noticed before.Phyrea nodded and leaned in toward him.Her lips met his, and he drank her in.Her hands were on the side of his face, and he put his on her shoulders.When he moved them down to her breasts she didn't flinch or pull away.Her lips came away from his, and she whispered, "You knew this would happen, Willem.It had to.It had to be us, after all."Willem shook his head and tried to think of Halina, waiting for him at that awful temple, waiting for him to come and get her so that they could live happily ever after.But he couldn't get a picture of her to form in his mind,and the thought of her waiting, and waiting, and waiting for a husband who would never come didn't make him feel anything at all.She drew away from him, but gently, and took his hands in hers.She squeezed his hands a little in a calming, reassuring way, and a hiss passed her lips as though she was shushing him, but he hadn't made a sound.Willem sat still, listening to the sound of the coach's wheels clatter over the cobblestones, and the rain patter against the roof.A little wisp of steam escaped his lips when he exhaled.It was chilly and damp—winter in Innarlith.Outside the coach the Second Quarter streets went by in a blur, not because they were moving particularly fast, but because Willem's eyes refused to focus on distant objects.The rain kept most of the people off the streets, and the dull gray air was lit by the warm glow of candlelight and hearthfires in the passing windows.They'd gone south away from his house and at the end of the street turned left to head east toward the Third Quarter.He wanted to ask where they were going, but he liked the quiet better."I know what I'm doing," Phyrea whispered to herself, though it sounded as if she was talking to someone else.Willem looked at her, but she avoided making eye contact and squeezed his hands again.He hoped she was right.He hoped she knew what she was doing.He certainly didn't.At the next major thoroughfare the coach turned right to lead them back south, along the very edge of the line between the Second and Third Quarters."Why me?" he asked, not sure where the question came from, or why all of a sudden he wanted to talk.Part of him hoped she wouldn't answer."My father wants it," she said, sounding unconvinced."I love you," he said.To her credit she didn't wince.He felt her hands grow warmer, though, and begin to sweat.They rode in silence for a while longer, and the coach turned right onto the wide avenue of Ransar's Ride, what some people called Sunset Boulevard because it lined up almost perfectly with the Midsummer sunset.They headed back into the heart of the Second Quarter and Willem noted a few of the shops where he'd bought the clothes he'd moved from his closet to accommodate—Phyrea.He'd made the space for Phyrea to move in with him, so they could be together as man and wife.They turned left again, near the Peacock Resplendent, heading south once more.Though Willem couldn't see out of the front of the coach he knew that the Chamber of Law and Civility was only a few blocks ahead of them.Could it be she was taking him there? Wedding ceremonies had been held there, according to common law.Phyrea's father would likely wish the blessing of Waukeen, but Phyrea might have talked him into a civil ceremony.When the coach passed by the ornate edifice without a moment's pause, he grew only more confused."Of course I won't," Phyrea whispered, so low he could just barely hear her.He wanted to ask her who she was talking to, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.He gently squeezed her hands, which felt slick with sweat, and sat in silence as the coach continued south.The wide avenue curved to the west, leading them to the First Quarter and the docks beyond, but they turned left at a fork in the road and were heading south again.They'd nearly crossed the entire length of the city from north to south.They could have been headed to the Cascade of Coins—the temple of Waukeen—after all.He looked at Phyrea and his breath caught.Her beauty overwhelmed him.He took a hand away from hers and touched her cheek.She leaned in to his touch and frowned.She looked sad—as if she might even cry—then she smiled.The coach pulled to a stop, the horses clomping to the side of the street.Willem looked around.He knew the neighborhood—not well, but he knew it.They hadn't come to the Cascade of Coins."Master Rymiit's house?" he asked, recognizing the large manor home with its walled grounds.Phyrea nodded, making no move at first to exit the coach, and said, "He wants people to call it the 'Thayan Enclave' now.I don't know why.Maybe he thinks he's some kind of ambassador now.""He is, I suppose," Willem replied, "an ambassador of sorts."Phyrea sighed, and the coachman opened the door and stepped aside.She stepped out onto the street not quite as if she were being marched to the gallows, but close.Willem shared that feeling when his boots touched the cobblestones.Marek Rymiit appeared at the gate, a huge grin plastered on his round face
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]