Читать книгу Diana Wynne Jones’s Fantastical Journeys Collection - Diana Wynne Jones - Страница 23

Green Greet had barely landed back on Finn’s shoulder when there was a rattle of bolts at the locked door. It was a useful noise. We had time to sit on the floor in suitably doleful attitudes. But Aunt Beck simply stayed where she was, sitting very upright on the couch beside Finn, and looking every inch her usual self. In fact, I think she looked better than she ever had. She had colour in her face and a near smile.

The door was flung open and soldiers marched in, followed by Gold-coat who announced menacingly, “The Regent’s Ministers to interview the Prince. Show respect.”

Show respect? Why? I wondered, as a group of lavishly-dressed fellows followed Gold-coat into the room. There were pasty, pompous ones, small weaselly ones and large loutish ones, and a couple who were just plain ordinary. And I could see at a glance that every one of them was an empty-headed fool. They looked majestically around and the soldiers hurried to bring them chairs so that they could sit face to face with Prince Alasdair. While they were arranging themselves, one of the doors further along – one of those that looked locked but obviously wasn’t – came open and the man who had been sent to ask about fruit put his head around it. He saw the Ministers and dodged hurriedly out again.