Raven's Soul. Volume 2 - стр. 3
Why object to the truth? I could have refused Derek and been killed, along with my family and my people, but I was wise to agree. I'd heard worse things: some people believed Derek had made me his mistress in Røvann, some people believed I had bewitched him into marrying me.
– What was, is gone. Thankfully, we've put our mutual hatred behind us and our hearts belong together," I said softly.
– Oh, you're so sure of that? – Astrid asked with doubt in her voice. It was a question I was afraid to ask myself. – Maybe that drunkard is just pretending. He wants an heir from you, and he must be swearing his love for you, but then you belong in the royal palace, not out here in the middle of nowhere, alone with Evans.
I never thought of that. And now, at the thought that it might have been the awful truth, my heart skipped a beat.
Derek could have locked me in the palace and sent me off to find someone else, could have gone himself, could have sacrificed himself to keep me alive, but instead he'd accepted my decision almost without argument. And how many times had he said he wanted a son… So if a daughter was born, he wouldn't need her. My mind was filled with restless thoughts, swirling in my head like a swarm of poisonous wasps in a hornet's nest. Everything I tried not to think about or ignore was playing against us. We'd never existed, either: the last few days I'd spent in the castle and in my husband's bed now seemed crazy, wrong and unbelievable.
– Enough. – As if through a fog, I heard Evans's firm voice. His intervention pleased me, because I didn't know what to say. – Relationships aren't easy, and sometimes love comes even when there seems to be nothing but impenetrable darkness. The King and Queen of Kaldwind will sort it out for themselves, and neither I nor Astrid will ever bring it up again.
– That man will bring you many more tears, you'll see…" Astrid said quietly, but then she rolled her eyes and waved her hand in a mannerly manner, "All right, all right! I'll shut up!
There was a heavy silence, and, returning to reality, I decided to look at the portrait and the nature of this cheeky girl.
Bold. I like that kind of girl. Better the bitter truth than the sweet lie. Her dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders and then down to her waist. Half-naked, full breasts were showing through the tight ribbons of a very unusual short corset. A rather large hole in the girl's dress, as if on purpose, revealed a small stone adorning her navel, an exquisite "fiery topaz". As far as I understood, the purpose of this stone was to emphasize Astrid's expressive, flirtatious, almost burgundy eyes with a glint of gold. The leather skirt, made of the same material as the corset, barely covered the girl's firm buttocks. Somehow I was sure that men often looked at those thighs, licking their lips and drooling. Astrid was a little taller than me, but that was because of the leather boots with the high, thick heels. A small earring decorated with small "fire" topazes glistened on her lip. Astrid's somewhat upturned nose also contained a topaz ring, but this stone was larger than the others and shone brightly even without sunlight. Moonstones had been implanted in her arms from wrist to elbow, her exposed neck bore the marks of deep wounds, and her left eye was crossed by a scar that, oddly enough, made her look quite pretty. I stared at her so long and unceremoniously that Astrid couldn't bear to look at her.