The lesser evil is human nature to try to justify higher causes very random hatred. Was it not the same in that era? It is indisputable that God, who addressed people, and sinful people, allowed with full knowledge deeds that His word might be

Waltz. Exactly. This is a waltz. What wonderful music. One, two, three... One, two, three... One, two, three... One, two, three...

Everything is spinning, spinning in a frantic rhythm, but the music gradually moves away, the movements are carried away into the distance ...

In my imagination, couples are dancing at a ball. A lot of people, couples, beautiful, insanely beautiful couples and the hall... Masquerade... You can't see a single face, only masks, many different masks of various shapes and shades. Luxurious dresses, elegant tuxedos… and again, one, two, three…

How wonderful it is! Pink, black, white, peach, blue, gold, brown, raspberry, green… Blondes, brunettes, brown-haired, fair-haired… Girls, women, boys, men and again one, two, three… The colors change each other to the beat of the music, but gradually move away and move away until they merge in an iridescent kaleidoscope of petals.

Deep breath.

Another breath.

I'm almost sorry, but the euphoria has passed, consciousness is slowly returning. I opened my eyes. Twilight. Light comes from fire. Fireplace. Stone floor. Stone walls. Under me is something warm, not soft and not hard, woolen. Fur coat or skin. Metal chime. Most likely, the links of some kind of heavy chain, slightly stretched across the stone floor.

I'm not alone?

This thought made me jump up and look around. A large stone room, a ceiling with heavy props, a dark, dim reflection of fire, a door without a handle and not a single window. Feeling of confinement, prison, fortress. Opposite the fireplace are two bulky chairs with high backs, all the walls are covered with some kind of frightening pentagrams. In the corner, polished knightly armor is majestically guarded, behind them is a narrow light door. There is a large table against the wall, on it is a jug and a couple of glasses. Strange, terrifying place.

I moved closer to the table. The head is still very dizzy, and the hip and shoulder are a little aching from sleeping on a fairly hard surface for a long time, but this is nothing compared to the panic that has overwhelmed the soul.

There is nothing suitable on the table ... But, in fact, what am I looking for? Possibly a weapon.

Another metallic sound. God!

Definitely, I need a weapon! But no knife, not even a fork, nothing! Deep inhale, exhale ... Again and again - inhale, exhale.

The decision to meet danger head-on quelled the cowardly urge to hide under the heavy wooden table. Courage in me often bordered on stupidity. What can you do, I have always been like this and do not intend to change now.

Hello, - I tried to clarify the situation, but it did not come out very convincingly. Instead of the desired firm greeting, I could only squeeze out something remotely similar to the squeak of a chamber.

Is anybody here?

Silence, only the crackling fire in the fireplace.

Hey! I yelled, trying not to think about how stupid I might look.

Again, no answer.

I cautiously approached the chairs. In one of them sat a man. A blue shirt, dark dress trousers and expensive-looking shoes on their legs stretched out to the fire commanded respect for their owner.

I took another step. Very slow and quiet.

The stranger's face is still in shadow, but his chest slowly rises and falls like a sleeping man's. The man calmly moved his hand to the armrest. The graceful masculine brush stopped at the wooden carving, creating a striking contrast between the light skin of the hands of the dark wood of the armchair and the gold of the watch on his wrist.

Now the face of the person sitting in the chair is clearly visible. The fire danced softly on his pale skin. Slightly curly strands of dark hair wrapped around the head of a young man, almost completely hiding under his long neck. Black brows set off a high forehead with a predatory flare, eyes were closed, long thick eyelashes cast a soft shadow over her cheeks. Tightly compressed, purely masculine lips, strong-willed, not heavy chin. Offhand, a man about thirty years old, no more.

And he's handsome, to be more precise, dangerously handsome. Eh, if only seven years younger... I sighed sadly and took a closer look at the stranger. His whole appearance now expressed peace. The eyes are still closed. Perhaps he is sleeping?

"Alex, it's not good to stare at people, even if they don't see it!" I scolded myself, inwardly imitating the intonation of a strict aunt.

Hey Mr! I mustered up courage and called out to the sleeping man.

The man opened his eyes and his indifferent dark blue gaze focused on me. I stepped back, feeling an unpleasant itch in my stomach, and found nothing better than to loudly and solemnly introduce myself.

My name is Alexandra, - without a hint of fear, which bound my heart with an icy crust, I proclaimed.

The man looked into my face with complete indifference and closed his eyes again.

And what does it mean?

I'm talking to you! I got angry. - Can you hear me?

Yes, - monotonously answered the stranger.

AND? Your name? I continued to insist.

Lex Wart, - the blue-eyed representative of the stronger sex condescended to answer.

Hmm, well, ham! Or has he, like me, not yet come to his senses? By the way, where am I and how did I get here? The last thing I remember was a chemistry lesson in the auditorium of the main building medical university. Morphine... He was main theme laboratory work. Further, my memory refuses to give out any Additional information up to the moment of awakening in this strange place.

The man remained silent, his eyes fixed on the fire in the fireplace. He did not seem to notice me, and I decided to do the same with him: I turned away and went to the door. As I noticed initially - there is no handle. I tried pushing or pulling, but the hulk wouldn't budge. The massive, probably very thick, metal door ten by ten feet around the perimeter is too tough even for a bulldozer.

Clear, that is, nothing is clear. Lex? - I returned to the chairs, the man did not move and did not look at me. His apathy was confusing. Why is he so calm? - Lex, how are you feeling?

Wart,” he corrected displeasedly, but answered the question anyway, “disgustingly.

I ignored his arrogance and continued my questioning:

Do you know where we are?

And where? - Do I have to pull out every word with ticks?

Under Castle Heldwell.

Already something. I would like to know where exactly this castle is located!

This is presumably a kidnapping. The motives are unknown to me.

Abduction? But… why?… Oh, yes, the ransom, of course.

The Wart looked up at me, now they were mocking.

I doubt.

Here's how? And what are your assumptions?

I said that the motives are unknown to me, but it is unlikely that money is involved here, - his voice sounded tired, painful.

How long have you been here? Were you kidnapped too? I asked, narrowing my eyes and looking suspiciously at the stranger.

You can say so, - the handsome man grinned mockingly and, looking at his watch, answered the first question - about twelve o'clock.

About two.

The tone and reticence of my cellmate was not conducive to small talk, but as long as he answers my questions, I will ask them.

Do you remember how you got here?

Once again, there was no answer, and I tried again, asking a more important question:

How do you know we're under Castle Heldwell?

The Wart didn't answer again, only heaved a sigh and closed his eyes wearily. His excessive pallor suggested disturbing thoughts, relegating my growing irritation to the background.

Can I help you? I asked with sincere concern, trying not to focus on the painfully gray circles under his eyes.