"Markel, are you ready?"
"I'm ready, teacher."
Sandro knew that I myself did not mind going to the empire.
"Your will is sacred. May many and many misguided people turn to our side."
"Do not be cunning with me, pupil. It's not just my will, "Sandro said slowly to me. He, as always, seemed good-natured, - you want to see her and soon you will see. Nothing, let it also serve the good of our cause. I think she will accept you willingly, she has something to thank you for, but be circumspect. Your feelings can be understood, but do not let them obscure our main goal.
And I went to you.
You have not changed at all. Joyful, you introduced me to the king as your savior, and your eyes burned with admiration. Of course, I got a position at the court without difficulty, and the first task was successfully completed. The rest depended on me.
It was not worth it to show my true faith to everyone and I started looking for those who were interested in the dark mysteries - the more I had supporters, the stronger my own positions at the court became, and the more necromancers were among my people, the better. In the end, I knew what I wanted, and what Lyudmila could not do would have been successful. And who else could return Erish former glory? Of course, not this power-hungry fool, not stupid fanatics, followers of the old Belket, and not cowardly bores who sit around the cells, naively and blindly believe in Asha and do not know what awaits her. Teacher was not in vain put on me - this game I was quite capable of winning.
Now all in the past: horoscopes for your courtiers; secret gatherings in the catacombs and in ancient cemeteries; your piercing gaze; the look of the king, a little smug - yes, the queen's adviser, envy me, envy me everything, with me in the evening the most beautiful woman in the world leaves! So many years, Fiona, the king did not know who you think about in his arms and whom you see in his place. So many years, Fiona, you did not know where I was at night, while you were giving your debt to the king. So many years of double, triple life ... So much I blew vials of disgusting perfume - once I noticed that the servants sniffed after my return in the morning (alas, the smell of the crypt can not be smothered, it eats into the fabric, into the hair, it seems, into the skin itself)...
So much time I looked at you from afar - until the king did not consider me safe and did not leave us alone. So much deception, so much silence, tense and ambiguous. I knew that I was walking along the blade of a knife, and one day everything happened - after a minor quarrel with the king, you could not stand it. She came to me, looked at me, and in your glance there was a flame, and you said, spoke, spoke ... I remembered everything that happened in Erisha. I did not listen and did not hear - I waited. I knew what you really wanted to say, and I understood: push you away now - and tomorrow I will be expelled, and everything will collapse. I could not allow this and decided once to open the truth, so as not to ruin the matter. I hoped that my eloquent gaze would be enough, but no, you were not enough, and I myself too. I realized that I did not convince you, keeping your fiery glance and showing a painful desire in your own...
You left, you cried, looking out the window, disappointed, and I realized that everything would be lost if I did not take the risk. I've always been at risk, and then too much was put on the map. "Silence, gods," I thought threateningly, came to you, and when you turned to me, there were tears in your eyes, suffering and hope, and for a moment I allowed myself to be what you wanted to see me, to let out a little , quite a bit of genuine feeling, of true self, although what is true in the web of illusions woven by the accursed jailer for the feeble and weak-willed half-wits? I embraced you, pressed you to yourself - closely, too closely so that you, by no means an innocent virgin, could not feel, do not understand... And only then did your eyes open wide, shine, and your face flushed.
"No," you whispered, almost happy, "no, no, I can not... I should not, and tried to free herself, but too delicately, too affectionately for true resistance. I immediately pulled away and asked for forgiveness for insolence. Of course, you forgive me."
To be continued
Thank you for reading!