"John Moore - Heroics for Beginners" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore John)

the satin waistcoat over his hard, flat stomach. The dark cloth of his trousers draped smoothly down
long, straight legs to meet the highly polished black calfskin of his boots, breaking just above the silver
ornamental spurs. Prince Kevin cut a dashing figure, and he knew it. With great precision, he twisted a
lock of hair around his finger and let it fall over his forehead. In doing so, he saw, behind his own
reflection, his valet approaching with a piece of folded silk.

"Will yoube wanting your diplomatic sash, Your Highness?"

Kevin considered it. "I think not, Winslow. Makes the whole thing seem a bit too mercenary, don't you
know?"

"Itwill be a marriage of convenience, sire."

"Yes, but no sense rubbing the fact in the girl's face. May as well maintain a pretense of romance,
however thin it may be." He saw a cloud pass over his valet's face and turned away from the glass. "You
disagree?"

Winslow did his best to sound neutral, but his look of fatherly concern was plain to see. He hesitated
before speaking, his gray eyebrows drawing together. "Sire, I realize your father wants the match very
much, but I have a concern, arising from my longtime—erm—service."

"Friendship, would you say?"

Winslow permitted himself a small smile. "Yes, sire. That is, I cannot feel honest enthusiasm at the
betrothal of yourself and Princess Rebecca. From all accounts she is quite unsuitable in temperament."

"A cold-hearted bitch, I believe is the term."

"Um.Yes, sire. Even her own people call her the Ice Princess."

"Well, maybe she'll warm up to me." Kevin turned back to the mirror and gave his cuffs one final tug.
"Come, Winslow. We mustn't keep the court waiting."

"Certainly, sire." Winslow put the scarlet sash away. "Will you be wearing your court sword this
evening?"

The Prince reflected on this. "Loganis quite the martial hero, isn't he, Winslow?"

"Yes, sire. I expect him to be in dress uniform, with full miniatures."

"And he'll have a sword, of course. No, no sword for me. We mustn't try to outshine him at his own
game.Nothing that smacks of the military. Just a cane, I think."

Winslow brought him an ebony walking stick, topped with a gold knob, and helped him fasten his cape
around his shoulders. The valet himself was dressed in plain dark blue trousers and a jacket with the
Rassendas crest on the pocket, the standard uniform of the Rassendas court. The two men set off down
the long corridors of the Castle Deserae. They had been guests here for several weeks and had started to
become familiar with its many rooms and multiple staircases. It was to be a busy night, and the broad
hallways were bustling with visitors and servants. The Prince greeted as many people as he could by
name, including the servants, and acknowledged the rest with easy smiles. He was pleased to notice how