Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Hisfairhairwastouchedwithgrayonlyatthetemples,andhisfacewasslightlylined,withmoresmilelinesthanthecreasedfrownsthatetchedtheirmarksonsoulsaswellasvisages.Heworeabeautifullytailoredrobeinhuesofblueandpurple,wroughtwithgleaminggoldembroiderythatcaughtthetorchlightandglintedoffhiscrown.Terenasleanedforwardslightly,engrossedinwhatthemanwhostoodbeforehim—alessernoblewhosenameArthascouldn’trecallatthemoment—wassaying.Hiseyes,blue-greenandintent,werefocusedontheman.

           Foramoment,knowingwhosecominghewasabouttoannounce,Arthassimplystoodlookingathisfather.He,likeVarian,wasthesonofaking,aprinceoftheblood.ButVarianhadnofather,notanymore,andArthasfeltalumpriseinhisthroatatthethoughtofseeingthatthroneempty,ofhearingtheancientsongofcoronationsungforhim.

           BytheLight,pleaseletthatdaybealong,longtimeaway.

           Perhapsfeelingtheintensityofhisson’sgaze,Terenasglancedoveratthedoor.Hiseyescrinkledinasmileforamoment,thenhereturnedhisattentiontothepetitioner.

           Arthasclearedhisthroatandsteppedforward."Pardontheinterruption.Father,they’recoming.Isawthem!Theyshouldbeherewithinthehour."

           Terenassoberedslightly.Heknewwho"they"were.Henodded."Thankyou,myson.