“W-what the hell is going on here?” Whispered the Lis.

Nikto shook his head oddly, and laid aside the open book lying on the table. It was a book of Lis. It was very convenient for making various drugs.

“A useful book,” said Nikto, “and a complicated one. However, I never doubted you,” he added, trying to smile. And in the dim light of the candle, his grin turned out to be truly creepy.

Lis staggered back and looked at Shela:

– She…

“She was cold there, in the basement where the servants threw her. At the very bottom. See what the rats did to her?”

Lis with undisguised disgust looked at Shela, at her chewed stumps instead of her hands. Hands that once so gently and skillfully caressed him. Her legs were chopped down to the knees. Exactly chopped off. Lis knew that. Rats could gnaw them, but they would leave bones. And too evenly they were bitten off. Apparently others feasted on her feet. Other, eternally hungry creatures living in this castle, and having maybe even less rights than rats. Slaves of Prince Arel.

Interestingly, do rats eat their own specie? Do they bite off their paws?

She was the same disenfranchised gray shadow, a rat, only in human form. And now she was lying on his bed, dirtying it with black stained blood from vile stumps.

“It's you!” Yelled Lis frantically. “You killed her! Now take her away! Let her bask in your bed! But she has nothing to do with me!”

“Really?” Nikto grunted. “I wonder, and what does she think about it? Maybe we’ll ask her? Let her tell how Arel mocked her. Or how she

went crazy with fear, but there was no one to protect her. Although, one person said that he loved her, that she was very dear to him…”

“Shut up! Shut your crooked mouth! She is just a slave, my fleeting whim, and if she didn’t understand it from the very beginning, this is her problem!”

“No, she understood everything, and didn’t pretend to be anything! Just this man reassured her. By the way, have you ever seen Arel having fun with his slaves? He kills them so slowly. Hours pass in agony. It may pass all night. Before…”

“Will you shut up?!”

“Here you will begin to grab at any straw. And of course you will believe, if someone promises you…”

“Shut up!”

“And quit you.” “Shut up.”

“To the mercy of fate.” “Shut! Up!”

“Betray you.”

“You're just a dream. My wacky nightmare! And I don’t care what you mean, Nikto. I'm sick of listening to you! You delivered her from a painful death, what a benefactor! Maybe it was easier not to choose her that day?”

“Maybe,” Nikto agreed. “But you made your choice, and I made mine. The first move was yours, first you. Then I.”

“You mean if I chose another…”

“I just fulfilled her last request. She wanted to see you again, nothing more,” and Nikto limped toward the door.

He opened it without any difficulties. And Lis nearly howled with rage. However, in a dream, locks really rarely save from uninvited guests.

“He walks around my room, touches my things, considers everything here!” Lis in indignation went to the table to hide his book.

Involuntarily he leaned over the open page:

“For, with hasty steps, at dawn someone is approaching me, someone who takes possession of me and cuts me down with a sword piercing me, and knocks me in order to bring me into harmony. And by the power of his hands holding a sword, he separates the skin from my head, and he connects the bones with pieces of meat, and all together, according to his plan, burns on fire until I feel how my body is transformed and becomes a spirit. And this is my unbearable torment.”

Lis sharply raised his head, suddenly realizing that he had read out, completely forgot about Shela. And in vain. Standing on the bed on all fours, Shela was preparing to jump.

And Lis screamed. Loudly, desperately, to finally wake up.

Chapter two

Lis reflexes

Lis looked in disgust at his reflection in the mirror. Black hair dye almost washed off, the color faded. Now he was neither red, nor black. Some dirty gray hair, not dark copper as originally, and not coal black as intended. Before, the color of his hair was often compared to fire. Women flatteringly told him this when he bent over them. They said that his face seemed to be framed by flames. And now the fire has gone out. Only gray ash remained. Not live hair. And Lis, with disgust, stroked them back, removing them from his face. He reached for his hairpin. The fluffy bright fox tail, habitually, gently caressing, lay down in the palm of his hand, but Lis immediately sadly laid it aside. His