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- Анджей Сапковский
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- Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов
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- Стр. 302/356
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Ciri
sighed
.
Yennefer
turned
and
the
obsidian
star
on
her
neck
glittered
with
a
thousand
reflections
.
"
You
're
right
,
"
admitted
the
girl
seriously
,
looking
straight
into
the
magician
's
violet
eyes
.
"
I
did
n't
like
you
.
"
"
Ciri
,
"
said
Nenneke
,
"
come
closer
.
This
is
Lady
Yennefer
from
Vengerberg
,
Mistress
of
Wizardry
.
Do
n't
be
frightened
.
Lady
Yennefer
knows
who
you
are
.
You
can
trust
her
.
"
The
girl
bowed
,
interlocking
her
palms
in
a
gesture
of
full
respect
.
The
enchantress
,
rustling
her
long
,
black
dress
,
approached
,
took
Ciri
by
the
chin
and
quite
off-handedly
lifted
her
head
,
turning
it
right
and
left
.
The
girl
felt
anger
and
rebellion
rising
within
her
--
she
was
not
used
to
being
treated
this
way
.
And
at
the
same
time
,
she
experienced
a
burning
envy
.
Yennefer
was
very
beautiful
.
Compared
to
the
delicate
,
pale
and
rather
common
comeliness
of
the
priestesses
and
novices
who
Ciri
saw
every
day
,
the
magician
glowed
with
a
conscious
,
even
demonstrative
loveliness
,
emphasised
and
accentuated
in
every
detail
.
Her
raven-black
locks
cascading
down
her
shoulders
shone
,
reflected
the
light
like
the
feathers
of
a
peacock
,
curling
and
undulating
with
every
move
.
Ciri
suddenly
felt
ashamed
,
ashamed
of
her
grazed
elbows
,
chapped
hands
,
broken
nails
,
her
ashen
,
stringy
hair
.
All
of
a
sudden
,
she
had
an
overwhelming
desire
to
possess
what
Yennefer
had
--
a
beautiful
,
exposed
neck
and
on
it
a
lovely
black
velvet
ribbon
with
a
lovely
glittering
star
.
Regular
eyebrows
,
accentuated
with
charcoal
,
and
long
eyelashes
.
Proud
lips
.
And
those
two
mounds
which
rose
with
every
breath
,
hugged
by
black
cloth
and
white
lace
...
"
So
this
is
the
famous
Surprise
.
"
The
magician
twisted
her
lips
a
little
.
"
Look
me
in
the
eyes
,
girl
.
"
Ciri
shuddered
and
hunched
her
shoulders
.
No
,
she
did
not
envy
Yennefer
that
one
thing
--
did
not
desire
to
have
it
or
even
look
at
it
.
Those
eyes
,
violet
,
deep
as
a
fathomless
lake
,
strangely
bright
,
dispassionate
and
malefic
.
Terrifying
.
The
magician
turned
towards
the
stout
high
priestess
.
The
star
on
her
neck
flamed
with
reflections
of
the
sun
beaming
through
the
window
into
the
refectory
.
"
Yes
,
Nenneke
,
"
she
said
.
"
There
can
be
no
doubt
.
One
just
has
to
look
into
those
green
eyes
to
know
that
there
is
something
in
her
.
High
forehead
,
regular
arch
of
the
brows
,
eyes
set
attractively
apart
.
Narrow
nose
.
Long
fingers
.
Rare
hair
pigment
.
Obvious
elven
blood
,
although
there
is
not
much
of
it
in
her
.
An
elven
great-grandfather
or
great-grandmother
.
Have
I
guessed
correctly
?
"
