Verity58: переводы

→An excellent question. And one he’d considered since confirming Cleo’s identity. How bold and disrespectful she was—this princess who saw no harm in coming to the same place where she’d caused such pain and suffering.

→The chief eyed him curiously. “Then what do you suggest?”

→“I strongly disagree.”

→“A sixteen-year-old spy? Who’s also a princess? Please. She’s harmless.”

→“But she’s the Auranian princess,” Jonas argued. “She could have been sent here by her father as a spy.”

→The chief hadn’t seemed to care. “What difference does it make if some rich and spoiled child decides to explore my land?”

→Such a moment of pure vengeance would taste so sweet. But it would be over too soon. Instead, he rode hard to the chief’s camp and told him about Princess Cleo’s unexpected presence in Paelsia.

→Fury burned inside him. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to barge into the cottage, wrap his hands around her royal throat, and squeeze until he witnessed the life slowly fade from her eyes. Maybe then he could rest. Maybe then he could feel that his brother’s murder had been avenged in some small way.

→It was her.

→The golden-haired girl slept upon a straw mattress by the fireplace, her eyes closed, her face peaceful.

→First, he’d gone to Sera’s grandmother’s home and looked in the window, through a small opening in the worn canvas covering, to prove to himself that it couldn’t possibly be Princess Cleiona that Sera spoke of. Ever since he’d left the tavern, he’d doubted his own instincts.

→It had been a long night, and Jonas knew he wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep.

→What he’d discovered had to be protected. At any cost.

→It was not in a Watcher’s nature to lie, but he felt he had no choice.

→“Of course, Danaus.” Ioannes nodded. “I will tell you anything I learn, no matter how small it might seem.”

→Who was to say that they were the only ones who could not be trusted?

→It seemed ludicrous to think something dark about an elder, but Ioannes was not that young and not that naive. He remembered when two of his kind had turned their backs on the Sanctuary, killing the last sorceress and stealing what was so priceless and essential to their existence. They had given in to their greed. To their lust for power. Ultimately, it had destroyed them. And now their actions, so many years ago, had the potential to destroy everything.

→“You would tell me if you’d seen something of importance,” Danaus said. It was not a question. “Anything that could return the Kindred to its rightful place.”

→At least, until the Kindred was lost. The fade had taken many centuries to begin, but it finally had.

→Danaus picked up a leaf that had fallen from an oak tree. The leaf was not green with life but brown. It was a small but disturbing sign that the Sanctuary was fading. There was no autumn here, when leaves would naturally die. Only summer. Only daylight. Eternally.