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Iron's Prophecy. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.

Iron's Prophecy - Julie Kagawa


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on his stomach, arms beneath the pillow, breathing peacefully, his dark hair falling over his eyes. The covers had slipped off his lean, muscular shoulders, and the early-morning rays caressed his pale skin. Normally, I didn’t get to watch him sleep; he was usually up before me, in the courtyard sparring with Glitch or just prowling the halls of the castle. In the early days of our marriage, especially, I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find him gone, the hyperawareness of his warrior days making it impossible for him to stay in one place, even to sleep. He’d grown up in the Unseelie Court, where you had to watch your back every second of every day, and centuries of fey survival could not be forgotten so easily. That paranoia would never really fade, but he was gradually starting to relax now, to the point where sometimes, though not often, I would wake with him still beside me, his arm curled around my waist.

      And given how rare it was, to see him truly unguarded and at ease, I hated to disturb him. But I walked across the room to the side of the bed and gently touched his shoulder.

      He was awake in an instant, silver eyes cracking open to meet mine, never failing to take my breath away. “Hey,” I greeted, smiling. “Sorry to wake you, but we have to be somewhere soon, remember?”

      He grunted and, to my surprise, shifted to his back and put the pillow over his head. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to go without me,” he groaned, his voice muffled beneath the fabric. “Tell Mab I’ve been eaten by a manticore or something?”

      “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” I snatched the pillow off his head, and he winced, peering up at me blearily. “It’s our first Elysium together, Ash. They’ll be expecting us. Both of us.” He moaned and grabbed another pillow, covering his eyes. “No playing hooky and insulting the Winter Queen. I’m not doing this by myself.” I took the second pillow, tossing it on the floor, and mock-glowered at him. “Up.”

      He regarded me with a wry smile. “You’re awfully perky for someone who kept me up all night.”

      “Hey, you started it, remember?” I feigned defiance, but it still made my heart soar to see him like this. It was like tiny pieces of his wall crumbled every day, showing me the bright, beautiful soul that lay beneath. I knew it was there, of course, when he had returned from his quest at the End of the World, but it had been new and fragile and overshadowed by his past, by his Unseelie nature and ruthless upbringing. Now, though, I could see more of it every day. He was still Ash the ice prince to everyone else in the castle, and sometimes that frozen barrier sprang up when he was angry or upset, but he was trying.

      “So, come on.” I poked him in the ribs, making him grunt. “If I have to suffer through this, you do, too. That was part of the deal when you married me.”

      I went to poke him again, but his hand shot out faster than I could see, grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward. I gave a startled yelp and fell on top of him, and his arms immediately snaked around my waist, trapping me against him.

      “I don’t know,” he mused, giving me a lazy smile, as my heart started pounding in my chest. “What would you do if I just kept you here all afternoon? We could send Glitch to Tir Na Nog in our place—I’m sure he’d smooth things over.”

      “Oh, yeah, that would go over well—” But my voice was lost as Ash leaned up and kissed me, cutting off any protest. My eyes closed, and I melted into him, savoring the feel of his lips on mine, breathing in his scent. God, he was like a drug; I could never get enough. My fingers roamed over his bare shoulders and chest, and he sighed against me, sliding his hands up to tangle in my hair.

      “This…isn’t going to get you out of it,” I breathed, shivering as Ash gently kissed my neck, right below my ear. “You’re still…going to Elysium…” He chuckled, low and quiet, and brushed his lips across my cheek.

      “I am yours to command, my queen,” he whispered, making my heart clench in complete, helpless love. “I will obey, even if you order me to cut out my own heart. Even if you order me to the hell that is the Winter Court Elysium.”

      “It’s…not that bad, is it?” I managed to get out. Ash gave a rueful smirk.

      “Well, let’s put it in perspective, shall we?” he mused, brushing a strand of hair from my eyes as he gazed up at me. “How many Elysiums have you been to?”

      “Three,” I said immediately. “At least…this will be my third one.”

      “And how many Elysiums do you think I’ve been to?”

      “Um. More than three?”

      “I do appreciate your gift for understatement.” Ash kissed me once more and let me go, shaking his head. I stepped back, because if I stayed there any longer, staring into that gorgeous face, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Very well.” He sighed, putting on a mock-affronted air. “I guess I can suffer through another Elysium.” He shifted to an elbow, watching me beneath the covers, looking so sexy I was tempted to say the hell with it and miss Elysium myself. “You do realize that I’m probably going to be challenged at least once by some Winter Court thug who thinks I’ve turned traitor.”

      “Yes, well, try not to kill anybody, Ash.”

      “Majesty?” A soft tap came on the door. I opened it a crack to find three wire nymphs gazing up at me. “We are here to help you prepare for Elysium, your majesty,” one said with a deep curtsy. “Councilor Fix insisted that we arrange a dress for you, one suited for your status as queen.”

      “Did he now?” I smiled. Fix, my chief packrat adviser, had been quite busy of late, researching Elysium, the other courts and all the customs that went with it. He was incredibly efficient and probably knew more about the event than most of the traditional fey did.

      The wire nymph shuffled her feet, looking uncomfortable. “Yes, your majesty. He also wished us to remind her highness that it would be highly inappropriate to wear human jeans and a T-shirt to the Winter Court, and that sneakers are not considered proper court attire.”

      A quiet noise came from the bed, sounding suspiciously like a snicker. I spared Ash a quick glare over my shoulder, and he gazed back innocently. Last night, when Fix was going over the rules with me one more time, I jokingly had mentioned the event was so stuffy and formal, maybe I could go in casual clothes this year. Then I’d at least be comfortably frozen. I’d thought Fix was going to have a heart attack squeaking in horror, and quickly assured him I was kidding. Packrats were wonderful little fey and fiercely loyal, but they tended to take everything seriously. Puck would have a field day with them.

      Puck. I felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of him. Where was he now? What was he doing? I hadn’t seen my best friend since the day we defeated the false king and I claimed the Iron throne. Ash had; Puck had accompanied him to the End of the World in his quest to gain a soul so he could be with me in the Iron Realm. But they’d parted ways soon after, and no one had seen any sign of the Great Prankster since.

      I wished I knew where he was. I missed him.

      “All right,” I told the wire nymphs, smiling to ease their nervousness. “Then I’m at your mercy, I suppose. Lead the way.”

      An indefinite time later, after being poked, prodded, stuffed into a gown, my hair teased into curls and my face touched with makeup, I went back toward the bedroom, relieved that it was done. This was one of the things I didn’t particularly care for; these extremely formal affairs that required me to look the part of a powerful faery queen. I understood Ash’s reluctance. Faery politics were tricky, conniving and, if you weren’t careful, extremely dangerous. I’d had to learn the ropes fast. Thankfully, Glitch and Fix were there to offer guidance when I needed it, and now Ash was here, as well. And the youngest son of the Unseelie Queen was no slouch when it came to the power struggles between the faery courts.

      Speaking of which…

      He was waiting for me outside our chamber doors, leaning against one of the pillars, arms crossed. Seeing him, I paused to collect myself. Ash in his black-and-silver uniform cut a striking figure against the white marble column, his cloak draping his shoulders and his sword at


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