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Chapter one
Matilda
“If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.” Popular wisdom, however. But people, whatever you say, rarely make mistakes... And now, it seems, we will have to test this wisdom for ourselves...
I would never dare to do this, but sometimes it happens that circumstances turn out to be stronger than you. So much so that your throat becomes clogged with tears, but at the same time you have to control yourself and keep a smile on your face. Something, and this, over the twenty years of life given to each of the mortals by the Mother of the Dawn, may she be with us, I have learned to perfection.
- Matilda, are you listening to me?
- Of course, honey. I can hear you perfectly.
He flinched as if from a slap in the face:
– I... I don’t understand! Matilda, I... I'm just acting like an honest person! I gave you... you, not you, I don’t want to switch to such treatment!.. I gave you my name, but recent events simply forced me... This is my duty! I can't let some Miles think that a noble's word is worthless! I…
“I understand everything,” I interrupted Shemyen, but if anyone knew how much effort it took me to say this short phrase. – I understand you perfectly. I understand that only evil witchcraft forced you to sit at the card table...
– I didn’t say that! – the husband flushed.
“At the card table,” I repeated, allowing myself a faint smile. – No less evil witchcraft sent you the wrong cards. “Tears began to boil in my eyes, but I found the strength to speak calmly. – And of course, an equally evil sorcery forced you to bet on me after another loss.
He frayed all the cuffs again. I'll have to say Elush. Let him see to it that they fix it.
– What could it be? – I automatically twirled some object in my hands. - Of course, witchcraft. Could you, Magyar Shemyen, guardsman of the Tara regiment, have lost your wife at cards except under the influence of evil spells?
You have no right to cry, Magyarne Kalnas Matilda. Do you hear? You have no right to cry.
There was a dry cracking sound. I broke my fan...
The husband froze, gasping for air and not knowing what to say. Perhaps he was expecting my tears. Maybe he was hoping I'd start screaming. I don't know this.
The fragments of the fan flew into the corner - the servants would remove them later. And my short gesture, it seems, became decisive.
– Your future husband will arrive in three days. - Wow, Shemien also switched to “you.”
He made a short bow and ran out of the room, slamming the door.
All I could do after that was burst into tears, hiding my face in my hands.
You should at least be honest with yourself. My problems did not start today, when my husband lost to smithereens, and not even yesterday, when he sat down at the card table.
It all started much earlier. Three years ago.
I was barely seventeen years old then. The Tara Life Guards regiment arrived to billet in the glorious city of Arpad... And in the evening at the ball I saw him... Magier Shemien... He was already twenty-three. He danced beautifully, bowed naturally, behaved like a real nobleman... I could not resist his charms.
My father opposed our marriage from the very beginning - at least he didn’t curse in front of the altar of the Mother of Dawn - and immediately said that Shemyen, being the youngest son in the family, has no right to receive an inheritance, which means he is simply chasing after my dowry. I didn't believe it.
And now I'm paying for my stupidity.
Shemyen only pretended to love me for the first six months. Flowers, serenades, passionate kisses... All this ended as soon as the first autumn rains began to fall. The dearly beloved husband, who left the regiment immediately after the wedding, began disappearing on hunts, losing money at the card table, and talking about how he was busy with something. The maids whispered about his infidelity...
I turned a blind eye to this. I hoped he would come to his senses. She paid his debts and treated his wounds after duels. And this morning, on the bright holiday of the Green Father, Shemien said that last night he lost me at cards.
Me! Borne Princess de Shasvar! To the cards! Like a simple peasant woman!
It turns out that in three days I will be divorced from Shemyen and married... With whom? I don’t even know who he lost me to. He mentioned in conversation that he had won some milez, but this does not necessarily mean that the winner is from Firbouen.
Great Mother, what a horror...
The hysteria lasted a long time. Elush looked into the room a couple of times, clearly wanted to say something, but when she saw me in tears, she ran away somewhere again.
In the end, I realized that I couldn’t. I won’t be able to come under the arches of the temple, I won’t be able to agree to a divorce, and, in the end, I won’t be able to get married to who knows who! I am a princess, not a peasant! I am free to choose with whom I connect my destiny!
His fingers slowly touched the golden icon hanging on his neck. On one side is the image of the one who gives rise to everything - the Mother of the Dawn, and on the other - all three gods: the Mother of the Dawn, the Green Father and the Eternal Serpent at their feet. The Eternal Serpent, accepting all the dead... Well. I am free to choose for myself. And I choose. Better to die... better to die... better...
I eliminated the poisons immediately. It's too terrible. Dagger? No way! No, of course, I have a small blade with me, fortunately modern fashion allows ladies to wear it on their belts, but it’s one thing to read about how some Ildiko could not withstand the torments of love and stuck a blade in her heart, and quite another thing - try it on yourself.
And then an old proverb came to my mind: “If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.”
Knesat Shasvar is located on the very border with Firbowen. Even twenty years ago there were fierce battles here, but, praise the Mother of Dawn, our Emperor Lörinc the Third was able to conclude a fragile peace. It is difficult to call the relations between Ungaria and Firbouen good neighborly; rather, it is an armed truce. People do not particularly welcome non-humans, and they, in turn, respond with ardent hostility towards all representatives of our kind. But half-breeds are not liked on both sides of the border.
It is not surprising that half-breeds living near the borders of states are extremely scrupulous about their honor and are ready to fight for the slightest insult.
Getting hit on the head with a baton was not part of my plans. It's too indecent. But what can stop me from showing up in men’s clothing at some more or less decent establishment and, after dropping a few words, starting a duel? I don’t know how to fence, so just a few minutes - and I’ll already be on the road to the abode of the Eternal Serpent.
It was certainly very difficult to decide. But I just had to imagine for a moment that in three days I would become the wife of someone unknown... Better than death!
Finding a suitable men's dress turned out to be more difficult. I never had one, so I had to rummage through my husband’s wardrobe - fortunately, he had recovered from the argument with me, if it can be called an argument, and had already gone somewhere. Probably, as the maids whisper, he turned into the Red Light District, the bastard.
It was even more difficult to figure out the lacing on my own dress. I didn’t call Elush, because he would tell the whole house that I was dressing up in my husband’s costume, and then explain what and how - I had to deal with the damned ties myself. After fiddling around for a while, but still not being able to reach the lacing on the back, I couldn’t think of anything better than to rip the clothes open with a dagger. After that things got more fun.
But alas, after several fittings I finally realized that my plan was not destined to come true: Shemyen’s shirts were too big for me, the sleeves of the camisoles had to be turned up, and the trousers... There were not enough holes on the belt to tighten it properly.
Suddenly, in the depths of the closet, I saw a black camisole embroidered with gold. Oh, that’s right: it was sewn about four months ago, but the tailor took the measurements incorrectly and for some reason it didn’t fit Shemien. I don't remember why anymore. Maybe too small?
Yeah, of course... Quite the opposite.
Yes, I remember that the camisole was too big even for Shemyen - both in height, and in the span of the shoulders, and in the width of the collar.
But you really shouldn’t go in a woman’s dress! I need to be killed, not robbed! Moreover, they killed me immediately and irrevocably, I don’t want to suffer at all. We urgently need to decide what to do.
The door creaked barely audibly... Great Mother, has my husband really returned?! God forbid he finds me here!
A servant boy stood at the threshold of the room. Thin, short and slightly lop-eared. “Tuddy,” his name came to mind.
The boy looked around, saw me through the open dressing room door in my husband’s disproportionately large suit and exhaled in shock:
- Madam?..
Great Mother, why do I need this? What sins have I committed?!
-What are you doing here?
“I...” Tuddy looked down. “The master sent me...” The servant faltered, not knowing how to say.
- Sent for what?
- Will you allow me? “He timidly stepped into the room.
Having received a favorable nod, Tuddy approached the desk and picked up a pen with an inkwell, heavy, malachite.
– Is he going to write something?
The boy froze, and then, closing his eyes tightly, shook his head.
- Then what?
- On the line...
My heart sank. I... Honestly, I don't even know what's worse. The fact that Shemyen, having only yesterday lost me, his wife given to him in the face of the Mother of the Dawn, today again sits down at the card table, or the fact that yesterday he bet me on the line, although he could have made do with an inkwell.
Tuddy took a cautious step back.
And he's as tall as me. And the physique is about the same.
- Take off your clothes.
A blissful smile spread across the servant's face. He released the inkwell and reached for the collar of his shirt...
- Stop! – I squealed, realizing that I had said something completely different from what I had intended.
I shook my head, putting my thoughts in order, and then, getting tangled up in the overly long sleeves of my husband’s shirt, picking up the remains of my dress from the floor and supporting my sliding trousers, I headed towards the door connecting my rooms and Shemyen’s rooms.
“Let’s go,” I said over my shoulder.
Elush sat decorously on an ottoman near the bed, sewing something up. The needle kept flashing in her hands.
Hearing footsteps, the chambermaid raised her head:
- Madam? Are you all right?
Gods, I feel like I won’t be able to escape from home so easily.
Having kicked the boy out into the corridor and strictly ordered him not to go anywhere, I, with the help of Elush, changed into a dress more appropriate for my position, and called Taddy again. He patiently waited for instructions outside the door.
The boy never entered the room. He stopped on the threshold, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, glaring at the floor and not daring to raise his eyes to me. However, I myself felt no better now. What should I tell him? “I need your clothes and shoes”? And what will it look like? Knesna de Shasvar demands the servant to give things back?! Yes, he will dishevel on every corner! Then I won’t even face shame in the monastery of the Eternal Serpent!
Elush saved the situation. Clasping her hands, she ran to the door and grabbed the young servant’s sleeve:
- What is this being done?! What are you allowing yourself?! No, just look at him! I came to see my lady, and my shoes were covered in manure!
“I... This is the very thing...” Tuddy began hesitantly. - It's not my fault. I'm just getting the inkwell...
- What inkwell?! – the chambermaid did not calm down. “I went to see the hostess, and I was shabby, like the last ragamuffin.” I will not allow my lady to be an eyesore with my obscene appearance! Come on, let's go! Where is your room?! Until you change your clothes, I won’t let you into my chambers! “And before I could utter a word, Elush dragged him somewhere into the corridor, leaving me shocked to think about since when did servants rule the house. I clearly missed something.
About fifteen minutes later a delicate scratching sound was heard from behind the door. Elush sneakily peeked into the room, looked around and joyfully declared:
- I drove him away, madam. Forgive me, but my heart just started bleeding when I saw him with dirty boots and on the carved parquet floor. Your father also said that this cannot be done. And he walks! And no shame, no conscience!
I was dumbfounded. My last hope of finding a man's dress has just safely passed away. And because of whom?! Because of my own maid! Yes, she literally raised me from the cradle, she has been around for as long as I can remember, but... But what should I do now?!
I slowly sank into a chair, wrapping my arms around my shoulders... And I shuddered when Elush slipped into the room, clutching some things under her arm, and shook her inconspicuous gray camisole as if knocking out dust:
“I found something simpler from him, madam.” Is this exactly what you needed?
While I was silent in amazement, trying to find the right words (did everyone already understand what I wanted to do?!), the woman continued as if nothing had happened:
“I immediately understood, as soon as I saw you and him, that you decided to take a walk.” Your mother, may the Eternal Serpent be favorable to her, was exactly the same. As long as I remember her, as soon as the moon is full, she leaves the house. Even when she stopped throwing herself into the swan.
The maid seemed to begin to talk. Mom - and exchanged words? Yes, only Fenians have the ability to be a werewolf!
Moreover, my father hated non-humans.
One can, of course, assume that we are talking about some kind of curse, but they would probably tell me! No, he's definitely talking. Age makes itself felt.
Meanwhile, Elush herself realized that she had blurted out something wrong, and hastily changed the topic of conversation:
-Are you going to change your clothes now, madam? Or will you go to the city in the evening, when it gets dark?
To be honest, I just didn't know what to say. Thoughts jumped like foxes in a game of toss. My head was spinning and there was a nasty metallic taste in my mouth.
Elush interpreted my silence in her own way:
“Don’t be afraid, madam, I’ll take you to the back door.” After all, your mother took you out of the house, so no one except the owner knew anything. Not a single living soul!
No, she's clearly gone crazy! So that mom could sneak out of the house?! She is weaving who knows what, fantasizing... Okay, the main thing is not that, but that she takes me out on the sly.
But first, one more issue needs to be resolved. More precisely, two. And to be absolutely precise – three.
Having changed into a man’s dress with the help of the same Elush, I stopped in front of the mirror. So, we’ll leave the thin engraved wedding ring in the box on the table; there’s no need for my killers to take it away. I still won’t be able to take off the pendant, so I’ll hide it under my shirt. But I had to tinker with the hair.
I twirled in front of the mirror this way and that, hiding them under my hat... But still I don’t look like a man! Even if I braid my hair, it won’t help! Yes, recently there has been a fashion for men's braids, Shemien, for example, wears these, but a man cannot have waist-length curls! They can't!
I looked back at the maid, silently watching me, and pulled out a pair of scissors from the craft box. What do I end up losing? I'll die in a few hours anyway.
I didn’t bother too much with my hair. A dry clatter - and the somehow cut hair fell to the floor. It turned out crooked and askew, but I’m not in the mood for beauty right now. Elush gasped in fear, covering her mouth with her hand:
- What are you doing, madam!
Now I'm really ready.
Help me, Eternal Serpent! I appeal to your will and strength...
About an hour later, in a man's suit and in splendid isolation, I was shifting from foot to foot in front of the door of the Green Undine establishment. The crookedly painted sign could not evoke anything other than an attack of fear: either the artist had never seen undines, or, on the contrary, he had seen them, but decided not to share his impressions. Be that as it may, the creepy creature painted above the entrance to the tavern with turquoise patlas sticking out in different directions did not scare away visitors - people simply poured in in droves. And while I was stomping around in indecision, the bouncers carried several tipsy revelers out onto the street. One of the drinkers, by the way, even turned out to be a half-breed... So, I definitely need to get there! All that remained was to decide to enter.
Bursts of laughter were heard from the tavern, music was playing... But I still couldn’t gather my strength. And only when either the fifth or sixth visitor was thrown out into the street, she whispered a short prayer to the Mother of Dawn and pushed the door.
At first, I was literally deafened by the noise in the room. Who wasn’t here! White-haired Fenians stood side by side with Misas, wrapped in flowing robes. Laumas with dragonfly wings slowly talked with people. Metis were talking to purebreds...
A young girl ran by, balancing a laden tray - younger than me, that's for sure. I looked closer and gasped when I saw goat hooves peeking out from under the long hem of the skirt. There are also aguane here!
I shook my head and looked around, trying to find a suitable candidate for the role of my killer. It's time to finally end this comedy!
At first I didn’t notice the gloomy Miles, a half-breed in a green uniform with silver and black stripes of a corporal of the Border Guard, sitting at the very counter. She walked past his table and accidentally pushed a heavy claymore lying on the tabletop, half unsheathed, onto the floor.
- Be careful! – the man muttered angrily, putting aside a mug with some kind of drink. He picked up the fallen weapon and didn’t even deign to pay attention to me.
“Sorry,” I breathed quietly, quickly moving away from him.
She retreated a few steps with her back forward, pushed some Fenian and was completely embarrassed when he, with a skeptical face, dropped something about skin suckers hanging around decent establishments.
Stop! Why did I come here? Then to be killed. And it seems that this suspicious guy with a claymore is just right. First of all, he has a big sword. And secondly, he is definitely a half-breed! The skin is too dark for a Fenian, and the hair is gray for a human, something that doesn’t happen at a young age, but he is clearly young, maybe a little older than Shemien. All that remains is to come up with a reason...
Within a few minutes, the half-breed’s two-handed sword fell to the floor again.
- Watch where you're going, boy! – the man grinned, carefully raising the blade.
- Watch where you leave your swords! – I did not remain in debt.
My interlocutor grimaced, looked me up and down and turned away. Eternal Serpent! I never thought that committing suicide would be so difficult! Although... I think I have an idea.
She threw a small coin on the counter. The innkeeper looked at me questioningly, and I pointed my finger at the first bottle I came across. Having received a mug with some wildly stinking drink, she again moved past the half-breed’s table.
The third time, pushing his sword to the floor was more difficult. The damned half-breed prudently held the claymore with his hand, but the main thing is to want to! A little effort, and the blade clanked on the stone slabs again.
– Are you kidding me, or what?! – Miles soared.
Instead of answering, I looked at the man for a long time and spat contemptuously at his feet.
Got a mile on my boot.
And then suddenly my head exploded from a sharp pain...
Chapter two
Aiden
“If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.” The truism, yeah. Only some, it seems, weren’t even taught to read...
And as a result we have problems. More precisely, at the moment – me.
- I didn’t kill him. “Squatting down, I touched the guy’s neck with my fingers. - Alive. But passed out. Your father has good mugs, Arleta... And you don’t need any weapons.
- You have two coins. “The waitress fished out a clay shard from the tangled black curls of my “victim.” - For breaking dishes... Poor boy. There will now be a bruise on my forehead. Listen, doesn't his face look familiar to you?
“I would remember such an idiot.” – After thinking, I still lightly patted the fool on the cheeks. No use. He put it in with all his heart, but now he won’t come to his senses soon. - Call Vinny, let him carry him out into the air, or something. Bring me another beer. And I didn’t have time to take two sips.
- Aiden...
-Where did he come from? “I picked up the claymore from the dirty floor. - Well, of course, you don’t understand what the scabbard is all about! It’s good that they didn’t steal it on the sly.
Arleta’s frightened whisper did not immediately break through the roar of voices in the tavern: if they fell silent every time someone was beaten, the “Green Undine” would have long ago turned into an abode of sorrow and silence. I threw the sword behind my back and turned around:
- What? They won't give me credit anymore?
– What loan?! – the girl hissed. – You men only think about drinking!
- Well, why...
“And stop winking at me, you fool,” Arleta snorted angrily. “You better wipe your eyes and look who you almost broke the head with with your mug!”
- Not mine, but yours. “I obediently bent over the motionless body. - Well, I see. The young man is beardless and incredibly bad. No weapons.
“Without weapons,” the innkeeper’s daughter confirmed, losing patience. And she nervously scratched her hoof on the floor: “But with a gold medallion!” And look how clean he is, his hands are white... Aiden, after just two sips your vision is failing?! The boy is one of the gentlemen! And you…
And I hit him on the skull with a mug. Just now. And now he is lying on the spit-stained floor of a suburban tavern in the pose of a dead grasshopper. With a bump on his forehead. Well done, Corporal Iassir, he distinguished himself so well!
“So,” vividly remembering the laws of Shasvar and realizing the full depth of the famous place into which I had just driven myself, I grabbed the guy under the arms, “not a word to my father!” Distract Laurie from the back door, and then I can handle it myself... If anyone notices, tell me that the boy is out of habit. Do you have the key to the gatehouse?
- Here you go. – Clever Arleta quickly put the key in my breast pocket. – Take him away, I’ll deal with Lori. Just... Aiden, you won’t hurt him, will you?
I glanced sideways at the boy who hung his curly head:
“Nature has already offended him.” Intellectually... Arleta, honestly, am I a beast, or what? I’ll shove you into the guardhouse - but they only saw me here!
– What if he remembered your face?
- And what? – I grinned. “Will he go around and tell everyone how some miley broke a mug over his head in a tavern?” They will stop respecting their own people... Arleta, honey, take care of Lori. If this sycophant snitches on the venerable Rokush, your daddy will screw both of our heads!..
The boy weighed almost nothing. And, sadly, I didn’t show any signs of life either... My hand is heavy, yes. It's just bad in the head! Well, I myself couldn’t see what kind of “gift” fate had given me? After all, he really was clean, thin, and even rude, and even then in a “you” manner! I ground my teeth. It’s good if the kid turns out to be unforgiving. And not too famous. Otherwise, I’ll have to sit in the guardhouse until next winter. This is the best case scenario.
The treasured lodge (oh, how many memories are associated with it!) helpfully emerged from behind the lush hawthorn bushes. Finally! And he was so shaken up, as if they wouldn’t see him... He lived. I'm already scared of my own shadow! Whoever would have told me yesterday that I, Aiden Iassir, corporal of the Border Guard, would be running around in the corners like a mouse with cheese in its teeth, I would have punched this soothsayer in the face. And Blair would also add on his own behalf - my best friend will tear his last shirt for his neighbor... And now it turns out that they can punch me in the face. And to the point. The one-eyed Tryn pulled this mama’s boy to come to the “Green Undine” and run into me!
But who am I kidding? My problems didn’t start now, when someone was impatient to spit on my boot. And not an hour ago, when I came to the inn of the venerable Rokush to meet a man whom my father calls exclusively scum and ulcers on the body of society... My main problem is, alas, myself.
“Half-breed” is a dirty word in Ungaria. And in the Knesat Shasvar there is a ready-made “wolf ticket”. Moreover, with a clear demonstration of this: unlike purebred Ungarians, we are forbidden to put our surname in front of our given name. So that when you meet, you can already see who is dealing with whom! And if it all ended there... But alas. It just so happens that the Knesat borders on Firbowen. I don’t need to tell you what the borderland is, right? People don’t like Fenians, Fenians don’t like people, and they agree on only one thing: both of them shun half-breeds, Milesians. Yeah, people like me. Why? Yes, because they don’t know what to expect from us. We are not just strangers - we are flawed. We do not inherit the family gift of non-humans and at birth we lose a drop of human essence. Here, for example, is Blair, my friend and one of the furiers of our regiment: his father is from Firbowen, from the Cloudspeaker clan, and his mother is a small noblewoman from the borderlands. Blair can't even make dew, let alone change the weather. And he doesn’t feel the cold - he doesn’t have such a normal human reaction. And if only the cold could not harm him! Alas, it very well may. As a child, he almost froze to death, he was saved by force... And the guy didn’t even understand what was going on. Even the ice is not cold for him.
There is also Gilmore, from the Mys - he does not know what hunger is. Laum Atti - with an atrophied sense of fear and without the wings for which his father’s family is famous. And Vaylin, a half-Fenian like Blair and me, one of my militias, is completely devoid of compassion... If you haven’t noticed, all of these are men. Rock touched half-breed women with the other side of the blade: they are born human and nothing human is alien to them. Neither externally nor internally. With one exception - the ability to bear children. Who knows, maybe they were punished much more severely? Although... As Khira, our regimental seamstress, says: “Why breed the poor?” And she answers to herself: “No need!” And at night he cries into his pillow. I know Blair told me...
These are just the few that I personally know. How many more of us are there? Crippled, insensitive, “unfinished,” as the Ungarians call half-breeds. And we can’t even object – because that’s what they are. The harsh truth of life. Although I was lucky, to be honest! The maternal gift was not passed on to me, of course, but the bright gods did not take away anything vitally important from me: I seem to feel everything that is supposed to be. If it were not for appearance, a man is a man! Only one thing gnaws at me - what if my flaw simply hasn’t shown up yet?.. And this also happens. But I’ve somehow gotten used to this fear. But I’m not going to accept the fact that my life and career are now hanging by a thread!
Do you think I was so worried because of this curly-haired idiot? No. The boy is just the tip of the iceberg. But it could be the last straw that will sink my leaky little boat...
It all started about a month and a half ago. I woke up in the morning with a buzzing head and found myself sitting in a prison cell. The cell was familiar; I am a frequent guest in the Shasvara casemate. Only usually I at least partially remember for what sins I got there! But this time... When they told me the list of my “atrocities,” even the experienced jailer Tibor gaped: desecration of the temple of the Mother of the Dawn, drunken disgrace in Madame Shani’s establishment and verbal abuse of chief officer Kishsh Sebastian, my immediate superior! Of course, I’m not a gift, but is that really the case? Yes, Sebastian is such a brute, and I could easily be rude to him. And he could even commit a little mischief in the cheerful house of Mrs. Shani, although, to be honest, they didn’t see such troublemakers there... But to desecrate the holy walls of the temple with tabloid abuse?! I have never pulled tricks like this before. And I very much doubt that I could throw it out at all...
However, the damned memory, killed at night by two barrels of fortified mash, flatly refused to be resurrected. So I had to admit my guilt and suffer a well-deserved punishment... Do you think that’s the end of it? No matter how it is. Remembering the previous sad experience, at the next friendly party I limited myself to only two pints of light. After which he went to the barracks on his own feet, being sober as glass. So what? As soon as it was dawn, a constable with three assistants appeared at the location of our regiment and presented me with a new accusation: allegedly Corporal Yassir, shortly before midnight, burst into the bedroom of the respected widow Farkashne Kallai Agatha and, “without order, offered the victim something that a decent person does not even dare to think about.” " The said widow made a fuss, servants and neighbors came running, but “the sneer, having finally surrounded the respectable citizens with words that would make even paper blush, managed to escape”... Yes, I have never heard such a monstrous lie in my life! Firstly, there is no need for Border Guard officers to break into ladies' bedrooms - they are usually invited there. Secondly, the noble lady Agatha is old enough to be my great-grandmother. And lastly, at the time of these events, the “troublemaker” and “subverter of morality” in my person was already snoring peacefully into the pillow, lying on a bed in my native barracks! What nonsense?!
Delirium is not nonsense, but the widow Farkashne Kallai, foaming at the mouth, insisted that it was my “vile face” that she saw in her bedroom. Numerous witnesses said the same thing. It’s not hard to guess who the constable believed... If it weren’t for the personal intervention of Captain Ligeti, I would already be rattling in shackles somewhere on the outskirts of the empire. Moreover, note that here he was absolutely not guilty of anything!
But this, alas, was not the end of the holiday. Just the day before yesterday a couple of businessmen from Crystal Street visited our barracks. As you might guess from the name, this street is mainly home to jewelry shops. And my visitors were respectable fifth generation jewelers. What made two respected, wealthy gentlemen visit my humble abode? As it turned out, I forced it... But neither one nor the other ever got to me. Having silently listened to the visitors' complaints, the watchman pointed his finger at the door and accompanied his gesture with a couple of not very polite, but very convincing words. The businessmen were indignant, looked at each other and proudly left... And that same evening, a lacquered droshky stopped at the gates of the border post, and the adjutant of General Ferenczi Sandor, jumping off the station, gave me an urgent order - to immediately appear at the mansion of His Excellency. What about me? I went...
– How do we understand this? “General Ferenczi, slamming the office door behind me, pointed his finger at the tabletop. There were two opened envelopes there.
- I can’t know, Your Excellency! – I honestly reported, listening to the adjutant’s steps fading in the corridor.
- And not even any guesses? – the general roared already half a tone lower. - Well, I’ll explain! These are slander from two moneylenders known throughout the city. Slanders against you. And I'm very interested in what you have to say about this!
Ksenia Bashtovaya, Nadezhda Fedotova
CARDS, MONEY, TWO ARROWS
CHAPTER ONE
Matilda
“If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.” Popular wisdom, however. But people, whatever you say, rarely make mistakes... And now, it seems, we will have to test this wisdom for ourselves...
I would never dare to do this, but sometimes it happens that circumstances turn out to be stronger than you. So much so that your throat becomes clogged with tears, but at the same time you have to control yourself and keep a smile on your face. Something, and this, over the twenty years of life given to each of the mortals by the Mother of the Dawn, may she be with us, I have learned to perfection.
Matilda, are you listening to me?
Of course, honey. I can hear you perfectly.
He flinched as if from a slap in the face:
I... I don't understand! Matilda, I... I'm just acting like an honest person! I gave you... you, not you, I don’t want to switch to such treatment!.. I gave you my name, but recent events simply forced me... This is my duty! I can't let some Miles think that a noble's word is worthless! I…
“I understand everything,” I interrupted Shemyen, but if anyone knew how much effort it took me to say this short phrase. - I understand you perfectly. I understand that only evil witchcraft forced you to sit at the card table...
I didn't say that! - the husband flushed.
“To the card table,” I repeated, allowing myself a faint smile. - No less evil witchcraft sent you the wrong cards. “Tears began to boil in my eyes, but I found the strength to speak calmly. - And of course, an equally evil sorcery forced you to bet on me after another loss.
He frayed all the cuffs again. I'll have to say Elush. Let him see to it that they fix it.
What could it be? - I automatically twirled some object in my hands. - Of course, witchcraft. Could you, Magyar Shemyen, guardsman of the Tara regiment, have lost your wife at cards except under the influence of evil spells?
You have no right to cry, Magyarne Kalnas Matilda. Do you hear? You have no right to cry.
There was a dry cracking sound. I broke my fan...
The husband froze, gasping for air and not knowing what to say. Perhaps he was expecting my tears. Maybe he was hoping I'd start screaming. I don't know this.
The fragments of the fan flew into the corner - the servants would remove them later. And my short gesture, it seems, became decisive.
Your future spouse will arrive in three days. - Wow, Shemien also switched to “you.”
He made a short bow and ran out of the room, slamming the door.
All I could do after that was burst into tears, hiding my face in my hands.
You should at least be honest with yourself. My problems did not start today, when my husband lost to smithereens, and not even yesterday, when he sat down at the card table.
It all started much earlier. Three years ago.
I was barely seventeen years old then. The Tara Life Guards regiment arrived to billet in the glorious city of Arpad... And in the evening at the ball I saw him... Magier Shemien... He was already twenty-three. He danced beautifully, bowed naturally, behaved like a real nobleman... I could not resist his charms.
My father opposed our marriage from the very beginning - at least he didn’t curse in front of the altar of the Mother of Dawn - and immediately said that Shemyen, being the youngest son in the family, has no right to receive an inheritance, which means he is simply chasing my dowry. I didn't believe it.
And now I'm paying for my stupidity.
Shemyen only pretended to love me for the first six months. Flowers, serenades, passionate kisses... All this ended as soon as the first autumn rains began to fall. The dearly beloved husband, who left the regiment immediately after the wedding, began disappearing on hunts, losing money at the card table, and talking about how he was busy with something. The maids whispered about his infidelity...
I turned a blind eye to this. I hoped he would come to his senses. She paid his debts and treated his wounds after duels. And this morning, on the bright holiday of the Green Father, Shemien said that last night he lost me at cards.
Me! Borne Princess de Shasvar! To the cards! Like a simple peasant woman!
It turns out that in three days I will be divorced from Shemyen and married... With whom? I don’t even know who he lost me to. He mentioned in conversation that he had won some milez, but this does not necessarily mean that the winner is from Firbouen.
Great Mother, what a horror...
The hysteria lasted a long time. Elush looked into the room a couple of times, clearly wanted to say something, but when she saw me in tears, she ran away somewhere again.
In the end, I realized that I couldn’t. I won’t be able to come under the arches of the temple, I won’t be able to agree to a divorce, and, in the end, I won’t be able to get married to who knows who! I am a princess, not a peasant! I am free to choose with whom I connect my destiny!
His fingers slowly touched the golden icon hanging on his neck. On one side is the image of the one who gives rise to everything - the Mother of the Dawn, and on the other - all three gods: the Mother of the Dawn, the Green Father and the Eternal Serpent at their feet. The Eternal Serpent, accepting all the dead... Well. I am free to choose for myself. And I choose. Better to die... better to die... better...
I eliminated the poisons immediately. It's too terrible. Dagger? No way! No, of course, I have a small blade with me, fortunately modern fashion allows ladies to wear it on their belts, but it’s one thing to read about how some Ildiko could not withstand the torments of love and stuck a blade in her heart, and quite another - try it on yourself.
And then an old proverb came to my mind: “If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.”
Knesat Shasvar is located on the very border with Firbowen. Even twenty years ago there were fierce battles here, but, praise the Mother of Dawn, our Emperor Lörinc the Third was able to conclude a fragile peace. It is difficult to call the relations between Ungaria and Firbouen good neighborly; rather, it is an armed truce. People do not particularly welcome non-humans, and they, in turn, respond with ardent hostility towards all representatives of our kind. But half-breeds are not liked on both sides of the border.
It is not surprising that half-breeds living near the borders of states are extremely scrupulous about their honor and are ready to fight for the slightest insult.
Getting hit on the head with a baton was not part of my plans. It's too indecent. But what can stop me from showing up in men’s clothing at some more or less decent establishment and, after dropping a few words, starting a duel? I don’t know how to fence, so just a few minutes - and I’ll already be on the road to the abode of the Eternal Serpent.
It was certainly very difficult to decide. But I just had to imagine for a moment that in three days I would become the wife of someone unknown... Better than death!
Finding a suitable men's dress turned out to be more difficult. I never had one, so I had to rummage through my husband’s wardrobe - fortunately, he had recovered from the argument with me, if it can be called an argument, and had already gone somewhere. Probably, as the maids whisper, he turned into the Red Light District, the bastard.
It was even more difficult to figure out the lacing on my own dress. I didn’t call Elush, because he would tell the whole house that I was dressing up in my husband’s costume, and then explain what and how - I had to deal with the damned ties myself. After fiddling around for a while, but still not being able to reach the lacing on the back, I couldn’t think of anything better than to rip the clothes open with a dagger. After that things got more fun.
But alas, after several fittings I finally realized that my plan was not destined to come true: Shemyen’s shirts were too big for me, the sleeves of the camisoles had to be turned up, and the trousers... There were not enough holes on the belt to tighten it properly.
Cards, money, two arrows Nadezhda Fedotova, Ksenia Bashtovaya
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Title: Cards, money, two arrows
About the book Nadezhda Fedotova, Ksenia Bashtova “Cards, money, two arrows”
What to do if you are lost at cards? And not just anyone, but your beloved spouse! A very interesting question. And here's another: what to do if you are accused of all mortal sins? And not at all in those for which you are really to blame. Also very interesting? Then let's put the third one: what will happen if these two troubles meet?
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Quotes from the book “Cards, Money, Two Arrows” by Nadezhda Fedotova, Ksenia Bashtova
“Okay,” I muttered, glancing over the colorful tomes, “we’ll deal with this later...
Ksenia Bashtovaya, Nadezhda Fedotova
CARDS, MONEY, TWO ARROWS
CHAPTER ONE
Matilda
“If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.” Popular wisdom, however. But people, whatever you say, rarely make mistakes... And now, it seems, we will have to test this wisdom for ourselves...
I would never dare to do this, but sometimes it happens that circumstances turn out to be stronger than you. So much so that your throat becomes clogged with tears, but at the same time you have to control yourself and keep a smile on your face. Something, and this, over the twenty years of life given to each of the mortals by the Mother of the Dawn, may she be with us, I have learned to perfection.
Matilda, are you listening to me?
Of course, honey. I can hear you perfectly.
He flinched as if from a slap in the face:
I... I don't understand! Matilda, I... I'm just acting like an honest person! I gave you... you, not you, I don’t want to switch to such treatment!.. I gave you my name, but recent events simply forced me... This is my duty! I can't let some Miles think that a noble's word is worthless! I…
“I understand everything,” I interrupted Shemyen, but if anyone knew how much effort it took me to say this short phrase. - I understand you perfectly. I understand that only evil witchcraft forced you to sit at the card table...
I didn't say that! - the husband flushed.
“To the card table,” I repeated, allowing myself a faint smile. - No less evil witchcraft sent you the wrong cards. “Tears began to boil in my eyes, but I found the strength to speak calmly. - And of course, an equally evil sorcery forced you to bet on me after another loss.
He frayed all the cuffs again. I'll have to say Elush. Let him see to it that they fix it.
What could it be? - I automatically twirled some object in my hands. - Of course, witchcraft. Could you, Magyar Shemyen, guardsman of the Tara regiment, have lost your wife at cards except under the influence of evil spells?
You have no right to cry, Magyarne Kalnas Matilda. Do you hear? You have no right to cry.
There was a dry cracking sound. I broke my fan...
The husband froze, gasping for air and not knowing what to say. Perhaps he was expecting my tears. Maybe he was hoping I'd start screaming. I don't know this.
The fragments of the fan flew into the corner - the servants would remove them later. And my short gesture, it seems, became decisive.
Your future spouse will arrive in three days. - Wow, Shemien also switched to “you.”
He made a short bow and ran out of the room, slamming the door.
All I could do after that was burst into tears, hiding my face in my hands.
You should at least be honest with yourself. My problems did not start today, when my husband lost to smithereens, and not even yesterday, when he sat down at the card table.
It all started much earlier. Three years ago.
I was barely seventeen years old then. The Tara Life Guards regiment arrived to billet in the glorious city of Arpad... And in the evening at the ball I saw him... Magier Shemien... He was already twenty-three. He danced beautifully, bowed naturally, behaved like a real nobleman... I could not resist his charms.
My father opposed our marriage from the very beginning - at least he didn’t curse in front of the altar of the Mother of Dawn - and immediately said that Shemyen, being the youngest son in the family, has no right to receive an inheritance, which means he is simply chasing my dowry. I didn't believe it.
And now I'm paying for my stupidity.
Shemyen only pretended to love me for the first six months. Flowers, serenades, passionate kisses... All this ended as soon as the first autumn rains began to fall. The dearly beloved husband, who left the regiment immediately after the wedding, began disappearing on hunts, losing money at the card table, and talking about how he was busy with something. The maids whispered about his infidelity...
I turned a blind eye to this. I hoped he would come to his senses. She paid his debts and treated his wounds after duels. And this morning, on the bright holiday of the Green Father, Shemien said that last night he lost me at cards.
Me! Borne Princess de Shasvar! To the cards! Like a simple peasant woman!
It turns out that in three days I will be divorced from Shemyen and married... With whom? I don’t even know who he lost me to. He mentioned in conversation that he had won some milez, but this does not necessarily mean that the winner is from Firbouen.
Great Mother, what a horror...
The hysteria lasted a long time. Elush looked into the room a couple of times, clearly wanted to say something, but when she saw me in tears, she ran away somewhere again.
In the end, I realized that I couldn’t. I won’t be able to come under the arches of the temple, I won’t be able to agree to a divorce, and, in the end, I won’t be able to get married to who knows who! I am a princess, not a peasant! I am free to choose with whom I connect my destiny!
His fingers slowly touched the golden icon hanging on his neck. On one side is the image of the one who gives rise to everything - the Mother of the Dawn, and on the other - all three gods: the Mother of the Dawn, the Green Father and the Eternal Serpent at their feet. The Eternal Serpent, accepting all the dead... Well. I am free to choose for myself. And I choose. Better to die... better to die... better...
I eliminated the poisons immediately. It's too terrible. Dagger? No way! No, of course, I have a small blade with me, fortunately modern fashion allows ladies to wear it on their belts, but it’s one thing to read about how some Ildiko could not withstand the torments of love and stuck a blade in her heart, and quite another - try it on yourself.
And then an old proverb came to my mind: “If you want to die, start an argument with a half-breed.”
Knesat Shasvar is located on the very border with Firbowen. Even twenty years ago there were fierce battles here, but, praise the Mother of Dawn, our Emperor Lörinc the Third was able to conclude a fragile peace. It is difficult to call the relations between Ungaria and Firbouen good neighborly; rather, it is an armed truce. People do not particularly welcome non-humans, and they, in turn, respond with ardent hostility towards all representatives of our kind. But half-breeds are not liked on both sides of the border.
It is not surprising that half-breeds living near the borders of states are extremely scrupulous about their honor and are ready to fight for the slightest insult.
Getting hit on the head with a baton was not part of my plans. It's too indecent. But what can stop me from showing up in men’s clothing at some more or less decent establishment and, after dropping a few words, starting a duel? I don’t know how to fence, so just a few minutes - and I’ll already be on the road to the abode of the Eternal Serpent.
It was certainly very difficult to decide. But I just had to imagine for a moment that in three days I would become the wife of someone unknown... Better than death!
Finding a suitable men's dress turned out to be more difficult. I never had one, so I had to rummage through my husband’s wardrobe - fortunately, he had recovered from the argument with me, if it can be called an argument, and had already gone somewhere. Probably, as the maids whisper, he turned into the Red Light District, the bastard.
It was even more difficult to figure out the lacing on my own dress. I didn’t call Elush, because he would tell the whole house that I was dressing up in my husband’s costume, and then explain what and how - I had to deal with the damned ties myself. After fiddling around for a while, but still not being able to reach the lacing on the back, I couldn’t think of anything better than to rip the clothes open with a dagger. After that things got more fun.
But alas, after several fittings I finally realized that my plan was not destined to come true: Shemyen’s shirts were too big for me, the sleeves of the camisoles had to be turned up, and the trousers... There were not enough holes on the belt to tighten it properly.
Suddenly, in the depths of the closet, I saw a black camisole embroidered with gold. Oh, that’s right: it was sewn about four months ago, but the tailor took the measurements incorrectly and for some reason it didn’t fit Shemien. I don't remember why anymore. Maybe too small?
Yeah, of course... Quite the opposite.
Yes, I remember that the camisole was too big even for Shemyen - both in height, and in the span of the shoulders, and in the width of the collar.
But you really shouldn’t go in a woman’s dress! I need to be killed, not robbed! Moreover, they killed me immediately and irrevocably, I don’t want to suffer at all. We urgently need to decide what to do.
The door creaked barely audibly... Great Mother, has my husband really returned?! God forbid he finds me here!
A servant boy stood at the threshold of the room. Thin, short and slightly lop-eared. “Tuddy,” his name came to mind.
