Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           Hemightaswellhavedroppedaplate.QueenLianne,stillabeautyinherearlyfifties,turnedatthesound,smilingaffectionatelyatherson.Hergownwasperfectlyarranged,herhairpulledbackinagoldencoiffromwhichnounrulytendrilescaped.Calia,fourteenandlookingasgawkyandcoltishasInvinciblehadbeenathisbirth,shothimascowl.Evidently,wordofhismisdeedshadgottenout—orelseshewasjustangrywithhimatbeinglate.Terenasnoddedathim,thenreturnedhiseyestothebishopgivingtheservice.Arthascringedinwardlyatthequietdisapprovalinthatgaze.Trollbanepaidhimnomind,andMuradin,too,didnotturn.

           Arthassloucheddownontooneofthebenchesagainstthebackwall.Thebishopbegantospeakandliftedhishands,limnedwithasoft,whiteradiance.Arthaswishedthegirlwouldturnalittlesohecouldcatchaglimpseofherface.Whowasshe?Obviouslythedaughterofanobleorsomeoneelseofhighrank,elseshewouldnotbeinvitedtoattendprivatefamilyservices.Hethoughtaboutwhoshemightbe,moreinterestedindiscoveringheridentitythaninthewordsoftheservice.

           "...andHisRoyalHighness,ArthasMenethil,"intonedthebishop.Arthasjerkedtoattention,wonderingifhe’dmissedsomethingimportant."MaytheLight’sblessingbeuponhimineverythought,word,anddeed,sothathemaythrivebeneathitandgrowtoserveitasitspaladin."Arthasfeltasuddencalmingwarmthflowthroughhimastheblessingwaslaiduponhim.