Description: War Thunder is a next generation military MMO game dedicated to...
Chirkova Vera
Prince's private secretary
Junior Prince's Private Secretary
Oh, and what a bore she is, this lady of state Pavrinia, hissed Illyra to herself, almost running towards the far bench on the shore of the pond. The girl desperately needed to find a few dandelion stalks, and just under that bench she saw in the morning when they were taken for a walk, a lush bush of this impudent weed, which somehow escaped the attention of the gardener.
However, the senorita knew firsthand how difficult it was to deal with the insidious yellow flowers, the gardener for the aunt's garden had not been hired for several years. And why spend extra money if a young and healthy orphan niece lives in the house, who has absolutely nothing to do in the morning ?!
Illyra ran to the bench, looked around and almost groaned with resentment, the dandelion was gone. Only loose earth remained, confirming her suspicions that the palace gardeners valued their work very much.
It wasn't fair.
Just horribly unfair, she had placed such hopes on the long stems of simple flowers that she intended to carry into the bedroom in a purse fastened to her belt. I even prepared a small piece of paper to wrap and not stain handkerchiefs and powder box with white juice. For the sake of this juice, this whole expedition was undertaken, it invariably caused red spots on the girl’s delicate skin, similar to inflammation or burns.
And not a single sane prince or noble lord would choose a girl with such spots on her face as her favorite, Illyra did not doubt this. And now, under the hoe of a hardworking gardener, her whole ingenious plan collapsed, and it was necessary to urgently come up with something else, and immediately.
Well, that's why, after she put in so much effort to achieve at least some stability in her precarious position, fate once again put her on the edge of the abyss?!
And worst of all, there is no one to complain to, and no one to ask not only for help, but at least simple advice. You can't even tell the truth to anyone.
She sat down on the corner of the bench, took out a handkerchief and put it to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had involuntarily come out.
Am I disturbing you? - Wearily and slightly casually asked a male voice and Illyra hastily looked around.
A simple traveling suit, dusty boots… most likely a messenger or a guard. Although no, he doesn’t look much like a security guard, although his face is rustic, but they don’t go in such hats. So, after all, a messenger ... or maybe someone from the retinue of the younger prince, it doesn’t matter.
I'll leave now, sit down, rest, - wiping away her tears, the girl politely suggested.
Thank you, - she politely thanked with a barely perceptible mockery, and the stranger suddenly looked with interest at the neighbor.
And what are you crying about, if not a secret?
What a secret, - she ironically almost openly, - if a whole crowd of girls was brought to the palace.
That is, you are afraid that the prince will not choose you, he guessed.
Here's another! On the contrary, I am afraid that I will inadvertently like him ... or the gentlemen from his retinue, because they say that more than one prince will choose the favorite.
Well, what's wrong with that? - he was surprised, - dowry women are usually happy.
Tell this to the homeless women themselves, so that they also know that they need to rejoice, - Illyra cut off angrily and got up, - excuse me, I need to go.
Wait ... - the girl was stopped by an unexpected interlocutor, - one minute ... you intrigued me. Until now, I have not heard such an opinion ... is it not difficult for you to explain how you reached your conclusions?
It’s not difficult for me, - the candidate for the legitimate favorites shrugged her shoulders, - but a friend is waiting for you.
Where?! - he looked around with the alertness of a man accustomed to danger, noticed the head of a young guy standing behind the bushes and breathed a sigh of relief, - oh, this one. Don't worry, he's just waiting... for one of our buddies. So what's your answer?
Everything is very simple, - she chuckled, - usually girls say what is expected of them. But really clever man can sincerely believe that an intelligent girl only dreams of becoming the prince's bed warmer for a year or two, so that, having earned herself a dowry in such a dubious occupation, she will become the wife of a fat widower?! After all, young and beautiful nobles do not marry former favorites, even for ardent love.
Hmmm?! - he thought, but noticed that the girl turned towards the palace, jumped up, caught up with her and walked beside her, - you know, I was interested in your view on this ... problem, but let me know what you yourself are doing here in this case?
Well, don't you think that all the girls arrived voluntarily?! she smiled bitterly.
To be honest, that's exactly what I thought until this moment, - he squeezed his sharply defined lips with annoyance, the only sign of noble blood, - but why didn't you refuse ?!
I am an orphan. I live with a poor aunt out of mercy ... how could I say - no, if she was going to improve her situation in this way ?!
But if you don't get elected... there's nothing you can do to help her?!
But I will help myself. If I'm lucky and the prince and company walk past this humiliating fair, I can get a job in the capital.
Let's sit for a while, - he nodded invitingly to the nearest bench, - I'm tired ... I rode all night, but I really want to know ... how a pretty girl can earn more in the capital than a favorite.
And no one says that more, - she smiled condescendingly, - freedom of choice is also worth something. Yes, and earnings are more reliable, they will not be exchanged at any time for a new toy.
Let's say, but what can you personally do? I have a few good acquaintances among the rich gentlemen, perhaps I could recommend you.
Only if I don’t owe you anything for this service, except for the usual gratitude, - Illyra knew very well what young people can hope for when they provide girls with such services.
I promise, - having measured the interlocutor with an insulted look, he said dryly, and Illyra perked up.
It seems that the first impression was deceiving, and he is still not a messenger, but one of the prince's friends. And in this case, she will really be able to help her, and how to avoid the title of favorite, she will take care of herself. And it doesn’t matter that for this you have to run around all the far corners of the garden, the result is worth it.
I can work as a secretary, - the girl decisively announced, and her interlocutor grimaced in disappointment, but she was not going to give up so easily, - I have been conducting all the correspondence of my aunt and another noble lady for two years, and they are very pleased. In addition, every month I check all the accounts and calculations of Senor Pikrius, our neighbor, and have never made a mistake even by a copper. On the contrary, she found the additions made by the shopkeeper, and saved the seigneur a tidy sum. I have recommendations from them.
“Oh, and what a bore she is, this lady of state Pavrinia!” - Illyra hissed to herself, almost running towards the far bench on the shore of the pond. The girl desperately needed to find a few dandelion stalks, and just under that bench she saw in the morning when they were taken for a walk, a lush bush of this impudent weed, which somehow escaped the attention of the gardener.
However, the senorita knew firsthand how difficult it was to deal with the insidious yellow flowers, the gardener for the aunt's garden had not been hired for several years. And why spend extra money if a young and healthy orphan niece lives in the house, who has absolutely nothing to do in the morning ?!
Illyra ran to the bench, looked around and almost groaned with resentment, the dandelion was gone. Only loose earth remained, confirming her suspicions that the palace gardeners valued their work very much.
It wasn't fair.
Just horribly unfair, she had placed such hopes on the long stems of simple flowers that she intended to carry into the bedroom in a purse fastened to her belt. I even prepared a small piece of paper to wrap and not stain handkerchiefs and powder box with white juice. For the sake of this juice, this whole expedition was undertaken, it invariably caused red spots on the girl’s delicate skin, similar to inflammation or burns.
And not a single sane prince or noble lord would choose a girl with such spots on her face as her favorite, Illyra did not doubt this. And now, under the hoe of a hardworking gardener, her whole ingenious plan collapsed, and it was necessary to urgently come up with something else, and immediately.
Well, that's why, after she put in so much effort to achieve at least some stability in her precarious position, fate once again put her on the edge of the abyss?!
And worst of all, there is no one to complain to and no one to ask not only for help, but even for simple advice. You can't even tell the truth to anyone.
She sat down on the corner of the bench, took out a handkerchief and put it to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had involuntarily come out.
- I'm not disturbing you? a male voice asked tiredly and slightly casually, and Illyra looked around hastily.
A simple traveling suit, dusty boots… most likely a messenger or a guard. Although no, he doesn’t look much like a security guard, although his face is rustic, but they don’t go in such hats. So, after all, a messenger ... or maybe someone from the retinue of the younger prince, it doesn’t matter.
“I’ll leave now, sit down, rest,” the girl politely suggested, wiping her tears.
“Thank you,” the senorita politely thanked with a barely perceptible mockery, and the stranger suddenly looked with interest at his neighbor.
- And what are you crying about, if not a secret?
“What is the secret here,” she ironically almost openly, “if a whole crowd of girls was brought to the palace.
“So you are afraid that the prince will not choose you,” he guessed.
- Here's another! On the contrary, I am afraid that I will inadvertently like him ... or the gentlemen from his retinue, because they say that more than one prince will choose the favorite.
- Well, what's wrong with that? the stranger was genuinely surprised. “Dowry girls are usually happy.
“Tell that to the homeless women themselves, so that they also know that they need to rejoice,” Illyra snapped angrily and got up, “excuse me, I have to go.”
“Wait…” an unexpected interlocutor stopped the girl, “one minute… you intrigued me. Until now, I have not heard such an opinion ... Is it easy for you to explain how you made your conclusions?
“It’s not difficult for me,” the candidate for the legitimate favorite shrugged her shoulders, “but a friend is waiting for you.
- Where?! He looked around with the wariness of a man accustomed to danger, noticed the head of a young guy standing behind the bushes, and breathed a sigh of relief: “Ah, this one. Don't worry, he's just waiting... for one of our buddies. So what's your answer?
“It's very simple,” she chuckled, “usually girls say what is expected of them. But can an intelligent person sincerely believe that an intelligent girl only dreams of becoming a prince's bed warmer for a year or two, so that, having earned herself a dowry in such a dubious occupation, she will become the wife of a fat widower ?! After all, young and beautiful nobles do not marry former favorites, even for ardent love.
– M-yes?! - he thought, but noticed that the girl turned towards the palace, jumped up, caught up with her and walked beside her. - You know, I was interested in your view on this ... problem, but let me know what you yourself are doing here in this case?
- Well, you don’t think that all the girls arrived voluntarily ?! she smiled bitterly.
“To be honest, that’s exactly what I thought until this moment,” he pressed his sharply defined lips with annoyance, the only sign of noble blood. "But why didn't you refuse?"
- I am an orphan. I live with a poor aunt out of mercy ... how could I say - no, if she was going to improve her situation in this way ?!
“But if you aren’t chosen…there’s nothing you can do to help her!?”
But I will help myself. If I'm lucky and the prince and company walk past this humiliating fair, I can get a job in the capital.
“Let’s sit down for a bit,” he nodded invitingly to the nearest bench, “I’m tired… I’ve been riding all night, but I really want to know… how a pretty girl can earn more in the capital than as a favorite.”
“And no one says that more,” she chuckled condescendingly, “freedom of choice is also worth something. Yes, and earnings are more reliable, they will not be exchanged at any time for a new toy.
- Let's say, but what can you personally do? I have a few good acquaintances among the rich gentlemen, perhaps I could recommend you.
“Only if I don’t owe you anything for this service, except for the usual gratitude.” “Illyra knew very well what young people could hope for when they render such services to girls.
– I promise, – having measured the interlocutor with an insulted look, he said dryly, and Illyra perked up.
It seems that the first impression was deceiving, and he is still not a messenger, but one of the prince's friends. And in this case, she will really be able to help her, and how to avoid the title of favorite, she will take care of herself. And it doesn’t matter that for this you have to run around all the far corners of the garden, the result is worth it.
“I can work as a secretary,” the girl announced decisively, and her interlocutor grimaced in disappointment, but she was not going to give up so easily. “For two years now I have been conducting all the correspondence of my aunt and another noble lady, and they are very pleased. In addition, every month I check all the accounts and calculations of Señor Pikrius, our neighbor, and have never made a copper mistake. On the contrary, she found the additions made by the shopkeeper, and saved the seigneur a tidy sum. I have recommendations from them.
“If you are already doing this kind of work, you should know that all wealthy seniors prefer to take special ... male secretaries,” he remarked coolly.
“Everyone I worked for used to have male secretaries and believe that I have a lot of advantages over them,” the girl stubbornly defended her right to work.
- I would like to know which ones? - A mockery clearly slipped into his tone, and Illyra realized with disappointment that her interlocutor is one of those young people who believe that girls are suitable for only one purpose ... exactly the one that she did not want for herself in any.
– Firstly, I arrive at the service on time and never suffer from a hangover for half a day, secondly, I do not pester maids and cooks in dark corners, thirdly, in case of urgent need, you can always find me in my room, in- fourthly, my friends do not crowd under the door, inciting to sneak out early from work. I also don’t drink the master’s wine, and you can safely leave me in the house and not worry about your daughter, sister or young wife.
Vera Chirkova
PRINCE'S PRIVATE PRINCE
“Oh, and what a bore she is, this lady of state Pavrinia!” - Illyra hissed to herself, almost running towards the far bench on the shore of the pond. The girl desperately needed to find a few dandelion stalks, and just under that bench she saw in the morning when they were taken for a walk, a lush bush of this impudent weed, which somehow escaped the attention of the gardener.
However, the senorita knew firsthand how difficult it was to deal with the insidious yellow flowers, the gardener for the aunt's garden had not been hired for several years. And why spend extra money if a young and healthy orphan niece lives in the house, who has absolutely nothing to do in the morning ?!
Illyra ran to the bench, looked around and almost groaned with resentment, the dandelion was gone. Only loose earth remained, confirming her suspicions that the palace gardeners valued their work very much.
It wasn't fair.
Just horribly unfair, she had placed such hopes on the long stems of simple flowers that she intended to carry into the bedroom in a purse fastened to her belt. I even prepared a small piece of paper to wrap and not stain handkerchiefs and powder box with white juice. For the sake of this juice, this whole expedition was undertaken, it invariably caused red spots on the girl’s delicate skin, similar to inflammation or burns.
And not a single sane prince or noble lord would choose a girl with such spots on her face as her favorite, Illyra did not doubt this. And now, under the hoe of a hardworking gardener, her whole ingenious plan collapsed, and it was necessary to urgently come up with something else, and immediately.
Well, that's why, after she put in so much effort to achieve at least some stability in her precarious position, fate once again put her on the edge of the abyss?!
And worst of all, there is no one to complain to and no one to ask not only for help, but even for simple advice. You can't even tell the truth to anyone.
She sat down on the corner of the bench, took out a handkerchief and put it to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had involuntarily come out.
Am I disturbing you? a male voice asked tiredly and slightly casually, and Illyra looked around hastily.
A simple traveling suit, dusty boots… most likely a messenger or a guard. Although no, he doesn’t look much like a security guard, although his face is rustic, but they don’t go in such hats. So, after all, a messenger ... or maybe someone from the retinue of the younger prince, it doesn’t matter.
I'll leave now, sit down, rest, - wiping away her tears, the girl politely suggested.
Thank you, - with a barely perceptible mockery, the senorita politely thanked, and the stranger suddenly looked with interest at his neighbor.
And what are you crying about, if not a secret?
What a secret, - she ironically almost openly, - if a whole crowd of girls was brought to the palace.
That is, you are afraid that the prince will not choose you, he guessed.
Here's another! On the contrary, I am afraid that I will inadvertently like him ... or the gentlemen from his retinue, because they say that more than one prince will choose the favorite.
Well, what's wrong with that? - the stranger was sincerely surprised. - Dowry women are usually happy.
Tell this to the homeless women themselves, so that they also know that they need to rejoice, - Illyra cut off angrily and got up, - excuse me, I need to go.
Wait ... - the girl was stopped by an unexpected interlocutor, - one minute ... you intrigued me. Until now, I have not heard such an opinion ... Is it easy for you to explain how you made your conclusions?
It’s not difficult for me, - the candidate for the legitimate favorite shrugged her shoulders, - but a friend is waiting for you.
Where?! - He looked around with the alertness of a man accustomed to danger, noticed the head of a young guy standing behind the bushes, and breathed a sigh of relief: - Ah, this one. Don't worry, he's just waiting... for one of our buddies. So what's your answer?
Everything is very simple, - she chuckled, - usually girls say what is expected of them. But can an intelligent person sincerely believe that an intelligent girl only dreams of becoming a prince's bed warmer for a year or two, so that, having earned herself a dowry in such a dubious occupation, she will become the wife of a fat widower ?! After all, young and beautiful nobles do not marry former favorites, even for ardent love.
Hmmm?! - he thought, but noticed that the girl turned towards the palace, jumped up, caught up with her and walked beside her. - You know, I was interested in your view on this ... problem, but let me know what you yourself are doing here in this case?
Current page: 1 (total book has 20 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 12 pages]
Vera Chirkova
PRINCE'S PRIVATE PRINCE
Chapter 1
“Oh, and what a bore she is, this lady of state Pavrinia!” - Illyra hissed to herself, almost running towards the far bench on the shore of the pond. The girl desperately needed to find a few dandelion stalks, and just under that bench she saw in the morning when they were taken for a walk, a lush bush of this impudent weed, which somehow escaped the attention of the gardener.
However, the senorita knew firsthand how difficult it was to deal with the insidious yellow flowers, the gardener for the aunt's garden had not been hired for several years. And why spend extra money if a young and healthy orphan niece lives in the house, who has absolutely nothing to do in the morning ?!
Illyra ran to the bench, looked around and almost groaned with resentment, the dandelion was gone. Only loose earth remained, confirming her suspicions that the palace gardeners valued their work very much.
It wasn't fair.
Just horribly unfair, she had placed such hopes on the long stems of simple flowers that she intended to carry into the bedroom in a purse fastened to her belt. I even prepared a small piece of paper to wrap and not stain handkerchiefs and powder box with white juice. For the sake of this juice, this whole expedition was undertaken, it invariably caused red spots on the girl’s delicate skin, similar to inflammation or burns.
And not a single sane prince or noble lord would choose a girl with such spots on her face as her favorite, Illyra did not doubt this. And now, under the hoe of a hardworking gardener, her whole ingenious plan collapsed, and it was necessary to urgently come up with something else, and immediately.
Well, that's why, after she put in so much effort to achieve at least some stability in her precarious position, fate once again put her on the edge of the abyss?!
And worst of all, there is no one to complain to and no one to ask not only for help, but even for simple advice. You can't even tell the truth to anyone.
She sat down on the corner of the bench, took out a handkerchief and put it to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had involuntarily come out.
- I'm not disturbing you? a male voice asked tiredly and slightly casually, and Illyra looked around hastily.
A simple traveling suit, dusty boots… most likely a messenger or a guard. Although no, he doesn’t look much like a security guard, although his face is rustic, but they don’t go in such hats. So, after all, a messenger ... or maybe someone from the retinue of the younger prince, it doesn’t matter.
“I’ll leave now, sit down, rest,” the girl politely suggested, wiping her tears.
“Thank you,” the senorita politely thanked with a barely perceptible mockery, and the stranger suddenly looked with interest at his neighbor.
- And what are you crying about, if not a secret?
“What is the secret here,” she ironically almost openly, “if a whole crowd of girls was brought to the palace.
“So you are afraid that the prince will not choose you,” he guessed.
- Here's another! On the contrary, I am afraid that I will inadvertently like him ... or the gentlemen from his retinue, because they say that more than one prince will choose the favorite.
- Well, what's wrong with that? the stranger was genuinely surprised. “Dowry girls are usually happy.
“Tell that to the homeless women themselves, so that they also know that they need to rejoice,” Illyra snapped angrily and got up, “excuse me, I have to go.”
“Wait…” an unexpected interlocutor stopped the girl, “one minute… you intrigued me. Until now, I have not heard such an opinion ... Is it easy for you to explain how you made your conclusions?
“It’s not difficult for me,” the candidate for the legitimate favorite shrugged her shoulders, “but a friend is waiting for you.
- Where?! He looked around with the wariness of a man accustomed to danger, noticed the head of a young guy standing behind the bushes, and breathed a sigh of relief: “Ah, this one. Don't worry, he's just waiting... for one of our buddies. So what's your answer?
“It's very simple,” she chuckled, “usually girls say what is expected of them. But can an intelligent person sincerely believe that an intelligent girl only dreams of becoming a prince's bed warmer for a year or two, so that, having earned herself a dowry in such a dubious occupation, she will become the wife of a fat widower ?! After all, young and beautiful nobles do not marry former favorites, even for ardent love.
– M-yes?! - he thought, but noticed that the girl turned towards the palace, jumped up, caught up with her and walked beside her. - You know, I was interested in your view on this ... problem, but let me know what you yourself are doing here in this case?
- Well, you don’t think that all the girls arrived voluntarily ?! she smiled bitterly.
“To be honest, that’s exactly what I thought until this moment,” he pressed his sharply defined lips with annoyance, the only sign of noble blood. "But why didn't you refuse?"
- I am an orphan. I live with a poor aunt out of mercy ... how could I say - no, if she was going to improve her situation in this way ?!
“But if you aren’t chosen…there’s nothing you can do to help her!?”
But I will help myself. If I'm lucky and the prince and company walk past this humiliating fair, I can get a job in the capital.
“Let’s sit down for a bit,” he nodded invitingly to the nearest bench, “I’m tired… I’ve been riding all night, but I really want to know… how a pretty girl can earn more in the capital than as a favorite.”
“And no one says that more,” she chuckled condescendingly, “freedom of choice is also worth something. Yes, and earnings are more reliable, they will not be exchanged at any time for a new toy.
- Let's say, but what can you personally do? I have a few good acquaintances among the rich gentlemen, perhaps I could recommend you.
“Only if I don’t owe you anything for this service, except for the usual gratitude.” “Illyra knew very well what young people could hope for when they render such services to girls.
– I promise, – having measured the interlocutor with an insulted look, he said dryly, and Illyra perked up.
It seems that the first impression was deceiving, and he is still not a messenger, but one of the prince's friends. And in this case, she will really be able to help her, and how to avoid the title of favorite, she will take care of herself. And it doesn’t matter that for this you have to run around all the far corners of the garden, the result is worth it.
“I can work as a secretary,” the girl announced decisively, and her interlocutor grimaced in disappointment, but she was not going to give up so easily. “For two years now I have been conducting all the correspondence of my aunt and another noble lady, and they are very pleased. In addition, every month I check all the accounts and calculations of Señor Pikrius, our neighbor, and have never made a copper mistake. On the contrary, she found the additions made by the shopkeeper, and saved the seigneur a tidy sum. I have recommendations from them.
“If you are already doing this kind of work, you should know that all wealthy seniors prefer to take special ... male secretaries,” he remarked coolly.
“Everyone I worked for used to have male secretaries and believe that I have a lot of advantages over them,” the girl stubbornly defended her right to work.
- I would like to know which ones? - A mockery clearly slipped into his tone, and Illyra realized with disappointment that her interlocutor is one of those young people who believe that girls are suitable for only one purpose ... exactly the one that she did not want for herself in any.
– Firstly, I arrive at the service on time and never suffer from a hangover for half a day, secondly, I do not pester maids and cooks in dark corners, thirdly, in case of urgent need, you can always find me in my room, in- fourthly, my friends do not crowd under the door, inciting to sneak out early from work. I also don’t drink the master’s wine, and you can safely leave me in the house and not worry about your daughter, sister or young wife.
She blurted out all this in one breath, looked into the gloomy face of her interlocutor, resolutely got up from the bench and bowed with dignity, saying that she was in a hurry.
Kandird looked wearily after the strange stranger and scolded himself for his intemperance. It does not matter that he got up after midnight and spent almost half a day in the saddle, changed horses four times and hardly ate. You can’t be angry at everyone around you just because someone ruined his mood. Moreover, you should not show your displeasure to young strangers, who not only have nothing to do with his misadventures, but are unlikely to have heard of them.
And of course, they have no idea that he has been in such a mood for more than a day.
“Well, why are you so mad,” Cedric, a faithful adjutant and bodyguard, told him conciliatoryly just this morning, “she’s not even worth a hundredth of your insults. When we arrive at the palace, two dozen beauties will attack you, dreaming of your love, and you will forget this traitor.
Yes, he himself, somewhere in the depths of his soul, thought the same way, and therefore he was in a hurry. He rushed incognito and waits on this bench for the valet with one of his simple suits, so that after the bath he will quietly join the crowd of courtiers and take a closer look at the candidates.
And well, what is waiting. As it just turned out, the girls came here not at all out of ardent love, but under the onslaught of circumstances.
“Your highness,” a middle-aged valet hurriedly approached the bench and handed a bundle to Cedric, who got out of the bushes, “there are things, but here is the key to the black door. I warned the guards, there will be no strangers there.
Candird nodded affably to the servant and hurried to one of the servants' exits. He was not going to cancel his plans because of the words of an unfamiliar girl because he led to a bath built on a hot spring. But now he was going to take a closer look at the candidates for a temporary girlfriend. The memory of the betrayed favorite again pricked her heart with unbidden resentment and anger at her own inattention.
And, of course, trustworthiness. It's funny now to remember how much he trusted Gigort. He even considered him a friend… after all, he was his personal secretary for almost five years. Accompanied on missions and all trips, to balls, hunting and abroad. He shared with him the hardships of the roads, and the cold of other people's palaces, and the dangers of the frontier. And, as it turned out a decade ago, he also shared the favorite.
Kandird snorted furiously, remembering the details of the disgusting scene, and quickened his pace - when you are doing at least something, unnecessary memories involuntarily recede. But he suddenly stopped, noticing a strange picture: a girl who, in her own words, was simply incredibly in a hurry somewhere, was slowly wandering along one of those park paths along which only gardeners and lovers walk, looking out for something under the trees. And then she completely turned off the path and resolutely climbed into the bushes.
This interested the man so much that he made a sign to Cedric to stop, and with that special, inaudible sliding step by which they walk experienced hunters Yes, the trackers, headed towards her, trying to stay close to the trimmed bushes that frame the alley, intending, if necessary, to dive into the dense tangle of branches covered with young leaves. He did not want to allow the girl to notice the surveillance.
But then she returned to the path and headed towards the house, and now she was really in a hurry. Why was she in a hurry, almost running towards the palace, and it was very suspicious. And very interesting.
Kandird, like a bloodhound, rushed to the bushes from which the girl crawled out, stopped on a small lawn, looked around. What or whom was she looking for here, and why is she now rushing like a catechumen?
However, nothing interesting or suspicious was found in the clearing, young grass, a few bushes of primroses and a lone lily of the valley in the shade of a blooming lilac bush ... Maybe she tore the lilac? He cast a captious glance at the well-kept bush, but did not notice a single broken branch. And I didn’t remember that the girl carried something away from here in her hands. It was very strange, and everything strange can be deadly and therefore requires special attention, so he was taught from childhood. And if earlier a man would have forgotten about the strange provincial woman in an hour, now he intended to take up the clarification of this issue as soon as he sorted out his problems.
Moreover, after walking a few steps towards the house, I accidentally discovered even more strange object. A torn dandelion corolla lay like a small sun on the edge of the path. A little further on, another one, and another. “Everything is clear, she was picking flowers,” Candird realized with disappointment. “But why, as soon as she found it, did she deal with them so cruelly?” Now he, even if he wanted to, could not forget about this candidate, unsolved mysteries always attracted him like honey - wasps.
“But she’s nothing,” Cedric remarked distantly, catching up with his friend, “a little skinny, but she will quickly fatten up in the palace.”
“Soothsayer,” Kandird snorted mockingly in response, “remember my words, she will be the last one I choose as my favorite.” And I do not advise the rest ... strongly. Understood?!
Chapter 2
The guards let the girl into the palace unquestioningly, all candidates and their companions or maids were given guest bracelets upon arrival. But already in the hall she ran straight into Pavrinia, and it was very bad luck, just huge. An arrogant and overly corrosive state lady could easily spoil any plan, even the ideal one.
“Señorita Illyra le Tride, if I’m not mistaken,” Illy’s current boss looked at her with cold mockery.
Upon arrival, all the girls were explained that Senora Pavrinia di Osteler was in charge of their accommodation, but the lady of state considered her duties more broadly. Much wider. In fact, she imagined herself to be something like a prison guard, shepherd and general all rolled into one.
- That's right, it's me! - Illyra involuntarily wanted to stretch out and, in a military way, press left hand to the right shoulder at one glance at the impeccable bearing of the lady of state, but instead she dignifiedly lowered her eyes and sat down in an elegant half-bow. A little deeper than the lord Pavrinia was supposed to be in status, but the girl managed to make sure that reverence and subtle flattery significantly soften the harsh soul of the matron, as the courtiers teased the state lady behind her back.
“Yes, and who would not be softened?!” the girl sighed dejectedly, waiting for the señora's monologue to continue.
She shouldn't have answered categorically; any arguments aroused even greater service ardor in the matron.
- And where do you walk when all your rivals are dressing for dinner? the matron asked sarcastically, examining the provincial with an appraising look.
Above average height, too thin, although this gives her grace, her hair is more ashen than golden, her eyes are gray, her face, although attractive, is somehow ... monastic, or what ?! It is unlikely that she will attract the attention of the younger prince, he loves bright, juicy girls, such as Marilda was, his last favorite. But she may well be liked by one of the three close associates of his highness, whom the queen graciously allowed to choose the official favorite after her son. And if Pavrinia did not put two of these noble, but rather poor seigneurs in anything, the third, sharp-eyed and caustic baronet le Caslit, who was in this company something like a satyr and head of the secret police of the prince, was frankly afraid.
However, many were afraid of him. He was not afraid to enter into a verbal battle with the king himself and at the same time was one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom. And now he could well choose this mouse as his girlfriend. The seigneur was well aware that a few weeks ago the baronet had successfully married off his favorite, with whom he had not parted for almost three years, which immeasurably raised her status among other official friends of noble seigneurs.
Vivid memories of the sharp glance of Ingird le Caslit and his caustic remarks kept Pavrinia from detailed notation, but she nevertheless issued a few thoughtful remarks to the provincial woman and deigned to let the girl nodding to her companion all the time. Having finally decided that this candidate is stupid and impassibly boring, it is not even interesting to issue such moralizing.
And Illyra breathed a sigh of relief, glory to the bright spirits, the execution did not drag on, and almost ran rushed into the room allocated to him and his companion. Very modest, with two narrow beds under moth-eaten canopies and a prehistoric round table in the middle. The decor was completed by a bulky closet and leather-covered chairs, obviously expelled from the dining room for being decrepit.
However, the girl was not interested in furnishing a temporary shelter, nor the lamentations of an elderly companion, all this should end tonight. And then the doors to a completely different life will open before her.
Illy hurriedly grabbed her traveling bag and rushed to the ladies' room to carry out her grandiose plan to eliminate herself from the inglorious fate of the favorite.
“Her Majesty calls you,” the page boy looked at the prince with cunning eyes, a swindler who grew up at the court.
- Why? - After bathing and a hastily eaten steak, Candird felt much more complacent and cheerful than an hour ago.
- Not said. - The page waited to see if they would give him a coin, he did not wait, Kandird thought that it was not worth spoiling the pages with handouts, and, unable to stand it, mysteriously said: - The ambassador from the elves has arrived.
“I hope he didn’t bring us some half-breed old maid,” Cedric worried, “they like to put them in good hands.”
- And where did you get the idea that he considers your callused paws good hands? Ingird, lying on the bed, grinned bitterly. - Yes, and they usually do not give their maidens as favorites. Now, if your dad decides to finally separate you ... then, perhaps, they will entrust you with a three-hundred-year-old "young maiden."
The page with a hidden condemnation glanced at the baronet, it didn’t fit in his head, how he dares to wallow in the presence of the prince, even if these are his own rooms ?! Candird had not yet gone into his private quarters, so as not to betray his incognito, although he guessed that all the guards and servants were aware of his arrival. And all the rest, who needed it for some reason. The palace is almost the same as a village in one house, and in order to hide something here, you need to try very hard.
– I couldn’t come with my affairs in a decade! - with exaggerated chagrin sighed another contender for the favorite, Count Lenzor. - So no, just at the moment when we should concentrate all mental strength on self-purification and concentration… for the sake of new feats.
“Tell her majesty that I am on my way.” The prince pushed the impudent young page away and looked back at his friend. - Ing, you're with me!
Is this a request or an order? - he inquired thoughtfully, but from the mocking look of his highness he immediately realized that he would not be allowed to make a fuss or philosophize now. - With you, so with you.
And with one imperceptible movement, he abruptly rose from the bed.
There were surprisingly few people in the living room of the queen, who personally arrived in the eastern palace to follow the crucial moment of choosing a favorite. Sitting at a corner table was the Queen's personal secretary, Señor Domlini, and at the window with a book sat an ugly, angular girl, a pupil of Her Majesty, Señorita Tessida.
And directly opposite the queen, who comfortably put her feet on a bench, sat an elf. Judging by the clothes and demeanor, he was purebred, and not less than the third or even second in the family, which was equated in the table of ranks with a prince or prince.
“You wished to see me, Your Majesty?” asked the prince courteously, kissing his mother's hand.
- Welcome, Your Highness. Forgive me for interrupting your rest after the journey, but Anler Tinurviel expressed to me his complaints about your impolite treatment.
- May I know what it means?
“About a month ago, Anler Tinurviel sent you a message, Candirde, in which he made some suggestions ... but so far he has not received any answer.
“It can’t be…” the prince frowned, hastily going through the events of the recent past in his memory and trying to remember what he was doing a month ago. “Is Anler Tinurviel sure that the letter was delivered to its destination?”
The elf, who did not utter a single sound, proudly lifted his haughty face, and his thin nostrils flared in insult.
- Anler Tinurviel claims that the letter is still here ... in the palace. He feels the response of the special leaves from which the envelope is grown, the queen hurried to explain, sending her son a reproachful look.
Three-quarters of the eastern lands of the kingdom bordered the elven forests, and quarreling with neighbors over a lost letter was, to say the least, unwise.
“His Highness expresses his sincere grief at this unprecedented event and asks Anler Tinurviel to tell you exactly where the message is ... His Highness knows nothing about this,” Baronet Ingird le Caslit said quickly and weightily.
The elf silently got up from his chair and importantly walked towards the door. The secretary, with agility uncharacteristic of his age, jumped up and rushed to open the door for him.
“Your Majesty will deign to personally check how things are going?” Candird looked inquiringly at his mother, preparing to offer her his elbow.
“Control it yourself, your highness,” the queen dropped her well-groomed hand wearily, “and I hope the guilty will be punished in some way.”
Five minutes later, the delegation sedately entered the study of His Highness, located on the second floor next to his private quarters. It consisted of two rooms, a reception room and an office proper. In the reception room, there were comfortable sofas for visitors by the fireplace, between which a thin-legged table with light refreshments stood, a bookcase gleamed importantly from the corner, and a massive desk located between the windows completed the decor.
Here, a fair-haired envoy of a neighboring state confidently directed his feet to him, shod in boots woven from a special straw.
- Here! The elf's finger pointed accusingly at the tabletop covered with green cloth.
Ingird silently walked around the table, which had lost its former owner a decade ago, and tried to pull out one of the massive drawers. In vain, castles faithfully kept the secrets of personal correspondence.
“The majordomo has the keys,” Cedric remembered, relentlessly following the prince wherever he went.
- I could try ... - Ingird cautiously hinted at his special abilities, but the prince just silently shook his head and went into the office.
I must have spares somewhere.
The baronet frowned slightly, it was an unfortunate act, if the noble envoy decides that the prince had access to the documents and ignored the letter on purpose, nothing will convince him otherwise. But it was already too late to say anything; all that remained was to make sure that the straightforward Kandird did not make any more mistakes.
Having received a bunch of keys from the hands of a friend, the baronet deliberately carefully examined it and, as if for himself, noticed that it seemed that these keys had not been used even once during their existence.
“A year and a half ago,” the prince honestly recalled, “the secretary lost his keys and took these for a few days.
“Yes,” the elf nodded reluctantly with his graceful head, “they have no heat on them.
Ingird cheered up, but outwardly gave no sign of it, with the most severe expression on his face he unlocked the top drawer and pulled it out to the end.
Cedric, standing next to him, whistled involuntarily, the box was full to the brim of carelessly thrown envelopes and papers.
Ingird squinted at him disapprovingly, resolutely pulled the box out of the slots and placed it on the table;
The prince grew gloomy, beginning to understand what Jigort was doing instead of sorting out the correspondence, and looked back at the elf. The blond guest's finger pointed confidently not at the box above, but much lower.
“Look at the other boxes,” His Highness ordered, but Ingird himself already understood the hint and took out the second receptacle of papers.
It was just as stuffed almost to the top, although there were some traces of secretarial activity, some letters were folded into bundles tied with ribbons. But along with them lay a silver goblet and a vase with dried dessert.
The prince growled barely audibly, Cedric raised his eyes to the ceiling, and Ingird stared inquiringly at the elf. Since you undertook to help in the search, so help to the end, ”his look spoke eloquently.
The elf's finger was pointing down just as eloquently.
Ingird gritted his teeth and jerked sharply at the bottom drawer, knowing in advance what he would find there. Nevertheless, more than once over the years he sat waiting for the prince on comfortable sofas and was aware that he kept a melancholy and dreamy-looking secretary in the bottom drawer.
The lower drawer, as expected, pleased the eye with the graceful shapes of dark glass bottles, in which especially valuable varieties of wines from the cellars of His Highness were stored. And not all of them were empty, in some of them the noble liquid was still gurgling. Among them, too, were somehow littered with a few smudged envelopes, and the prince's face began to turn pale with anger, and his bluish-gray eyes took on a steely gleam.
The elf pursed his lips disdainfully and just as silently pointed his finger down.
“But there are no more boxes,” Cedric muttered under his breath.
And the baronet had already squatted down and, having gone headlong into the bowels of the table, silently fiddled around there, rustling with something. And when he straightened up and put on the table a thick stack of unopened letters, this turn of events was no longer a surprise to anyone in the room.
“Here,” the elf’s thin fingers deftly snatched an envelope from this salad-colored pack. unusual shape, brought it to the greenish-icy eyes, to make sure that it was not opened, and quickly thrust it into a bag hanging over the shoulder like a tablet.
“But this is a message for me…” Candird tried to protest politely.
The white-haired messenger only curled his lips more.
- This offer is no longer valid. Let me take my leave, we need to return urgently.
“Please accept my sincere apologies, Anler Tinurviel!” Candird looked openly into the ambassador's eyes. - The only thing I can say in my defense is that the person who treated such valuable messages in such a dishonest way has already been deprived of this position. But now he will also suffer an additional and very severe punishment, I myself will see. And I will ask you to stay at least a day, today we have a festive reception, and I would very much like to see you among the guests of honor.
It was a strong move on his part, never before had the princes personally persuaded ordinary, albeit noble, envoys to honor the festive dinner with their presence, and the elf clearly hesitated, he was flattered by such respect. But to deviate from his word was considered in his family a sign of frivolity.
“And besides, dear anler Tinurviel,” the baronet immediately jumped into the conversation, “we recently received a batch of weapons made of gnome iron, and I dreamed of showing it to you before dinner to ask for advice ... which of the three daggers I liked should be sent as a gift His Lordship High Anler Laonteniel?
But this was already outright bribery, the gnomes stubbornly did not want to sell forest dwellers their weapons, and they were valued among the elves more than gold.
And the elf could not resist this proposal. If he told High Unler Laontheniell that he considered his honor more important than a dwarven blade in making his decision, he would forever earn the reputation of a simpleton. And as you know, no one appoints such ambassadors anymore.
Therefore, he pursed his beautiful lips in pain and majestically announced that he was ready to help the kind seigneur le Caslit in such an important matter.
Invard immediately pointed to the door invitingly and, following the majestically striding elf, left the office. Having managed to look around on the threshold and slyly wink at his friends so that they do not worry, the baronet will do everything possible so that, if not to get the letter back, then at least to find out what it was about.
“The majordomo has already selected candidates ...” Cedric said carefully, “for the post of secretary, tomorrow morning it will be possible to arrange a selection.
“And this one…” the prince squeamishly jabbed his finger into an open bottle, “did you also pick up the major-domo?”
“Your highness…” the adjutant sighed dejectedly, when the prince was in such a gloomy mood, only Ingird dared to address him as “you”, “but young nobles prefer to wield swords rather than feathers.
“I am well aware,” the prince growled bitterly, “what they prefer to use ... and now I’ll find a secretary for myself!”
“But where… will you look for him?!
The sight of Cedric's goggle-eyed in amazement amused the prince a little, and he snorted mysteriously:
- I know a place! Come after me!
