The days and nights passed quietly and for Emily, far, far, too slowly. The guard escort Corvo had assigned her quickly became annoying, although she knew her father had nothing but the best intentions for her.
She spent nearly the whole of the second day trying to shake off her escort around the palace. It worked, too.
On day three, she found that her escort had been expanded from one guard to two.
На самом деле - респект тому охраннику, если Эмили, со всеми-то ее навыками скрытности (а учил ее все же лучший в империи) целый день от него отбивалась.
“But that’s the tradition,” Wyman said.
Emily raised an eyebrow. “Tradition is an ass.”
“Says Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin the First, of the House of Kaldwin, Empress of the Isles,” Corvo said from somewhere behind the rim of his coffee beaker.
“You know what I mean,” Emily said, folding her arms. “I’d have liked to have been able to go, even just the once. I would have, of course, if my mother was still alive. As an Imperial Princess and heir it would have been my introduction to Dunwall society, after all.”
Corvo hrmmed. “You wouldn’t like it,” he said.
Wyman grinned, turning to the Royal Protector. “You’ve been?”
Corvo frowned. “Once.”
“And?”
Corvo shrugged. “It didn’t go so well.”
Да ладно тебе, Корво. Ты ж так славно там повеселился:
Кстати, как выяснилось, убийство леди Бойл в игре - неканон О.О Mercy is the mark.