Elena Star
Dark Empire. Book 1
Third kingdom. Sarda.
Nairina Siren
Our world was falling into ruins. It collapsed, burying under fragments of life, fate, values, worldview, political system... This is what happens when the basis of power disappears and those who previously ruled are completely powerless. We have lost everything - property, state support, inviolability. One day, by the will of the dark lord Rian Tier, the demons of the Abyss sealed the magic of absolutely all the gifted inhabitants of the kingdom. This was considered impossible - but it happened. We were taught that magicians are independent of external influences - but we were deprived of magic from the outside. A treaty made two centuries ago between all the seven human kingdoms guaranteed us protection... but no one came to our aid. We, deprived of strength and support, found ourselves defenseless in the face of those who considered themselves superior by birthright. The aristocracy, oppressed for centuries by the Coven of Mages, rose from their knees, burning with a thirst for revenge.
Many of us left the capital even before the aristocracy elected a king at the request of the dark lord. The rest hastily fled, as soon as it became clear that the choice of the ancient families fell on Luer Tamies - an implacable opponent of magic and magicians in particular, who opposed the Coven of Magicians in its heyday, and even now ... The flight of magicians from the capital was massive, but secret. The former archmages shaved off their beards and cut their gray locks in the fashion of the middle class, the magi hurriedly changed robes for dresses, the adepts burned their uniforms ... I was glad that the magicians left - they did not see how at sunset, as soon as they announced the accession of Luer, the first was burned their houses.
They didn't see... but I stood that night in front of the quarter of magicians and, not holding back tears, watched how everything that once made up my world was destroyed in the haze of fire... My house, bright, with huge stained-glass windows, with a garden of ever-blooming roses in Dormei, my favorite swing in a gazebo covered with grapes... It didn’t want to catch fire for a long time, there were no magicians, but the stones fueled for decades kept an echo of protective charms and several times the fire, fueled by chips from furniture, died out... Bottles of alcohol solved this problem and soon the house in which I was born and spent so many happy years was engulfed in flames ... Huge windows burst, stained-glass crystals crumbled ... At that moment, the first convulsive sob escaped my chest ... The first and last . And silently swallowing my tears, I watched how the snow-white building turned black from soot and soot, how the roof fell, throwing up a sheaf of sparks, how the crowd of arsonists roared joyfully and triumphantly ... Men, women and children in gray inexpressive clothes. They rejoiced, dancing on the ruins of the manor houses. They, like everyone else here, clearly understood that even those whose houses were now on fire in the Mages quarter had no right to condemn them. And when the barely formed detachments of guards arrived at the conflagrations, no one grabbed the arsonists. They called for order, reminded that the fire could spread to the houses of respectable residents of the city, and not only destroy the dwellings of despicable magicians, and they left, not wanting to spoil the first Night of Freedom for the former slaves.
There were so many of them, those who only yesterday were property, and now they were feasting, intoxicated with will and impunity ... So many. It seemed that the whole wide street was filled with gray clothes of angry former slaves seeking revenge. And indeed they were looking, desperately looking into the faces of onlookers and passers-by, looking for those who could throw accusations in the face. Those whom only today they had the right to tear to pieces, and it is unlikely that those deprived of power would come to the rescue. But none of the magicians would have dared to stay in the quarter on this terrible night ... except me. And I had no reason to be afraid - slaves never appeared in my house. Both mother and father considered slavery unacceptable, after their death, my brother and I adhered to the respect instilled from childhood for ordinary people. In our house, the servants regularly received a salary, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Torrek, who replaced our mother after the death of our parents, refused to take money at all, citing the fact that she lives on our full support ... It is strange, looking at how the fire slowly goes out in burned house, for the first time I rejoiced at her death. The nanny with a smile on her lips passed away just a month ago and her death was a blow to me and my brother, so many tears, so many regrets... But now I'm glad that she doesn't see all this.
To the right of our house, the Firemaster's mansion was on fire. At some point, the flame reached the laboratory of Mr. Orius and the first explosion of fireworks sounded in the night. A roar of thunder and a giant fiery bird soars in the black sky with its wings outstretched... A roar - and the body of the bird is torn up by fiery purple flowers... Again a roar, and the blossoming flowers are pierced by the rays of a false sun... A roar...
The crowd cheered.
Fireworks in honor of the Night of Freedom!..
For our king!
Death to mages!
Burn the robes!..
I couldn't take it. Turning around, wearily wandered away, shuddering every time. When the roar heralded the birth of a new fiery miracle. The sky above me sparkled with all the colors, and I looked exclusively at my feet, unable to observe the mass hysteria of intoxicating lawlessness anymore ...
We were warned of possible disturbances. In the morning, having gathered everyone in the assembly hall of the Academy of Magical Sciences, rector Wilnar Neros told about the likely development of events. No, there was no talk of the mass destruction of magicians, the aristocrats clearly understood that in this case the dark lords would intervene, but... But how can a barely formed government be held responsible for the actions of former slaves, intoxicated with the taste of freedom? The answer is obvious. Therefore, the rector strongly recommended to remove the robes, identification amulets and leave Sardu. Run away, leaving the houses, until the chaos stops and the new king takes control of the situation in the capital.
Running is excellent advice for those who have somewhere to hide, for those whose houses are located outside the city limits, or those who are related by family ties to the aristocracy. I had nowhere to run. Those who have money can also run. I didn't have them. Families need to run... but I was left completely alone, only with the hope that my brother, who disappeared on the day when the dark ones appeared, would return. A foolish hope, given the unfortunate fact that I couldn't find him even when I still had magic. Not me, not Professor Orman, not the council. Then I rushed around the city, giving away all the jewelry left from my mother, but there was only one answer - "He is gone, Mrs. Siren."
A fiery dragon roared in the sky. The most expensive of Magister Orius's fireworks, I remember, it was last ordered seven years ago for the celebration of the Day of Magic, and the coven paid no small amount for this fiery miracle. It's funny, now the dragon was the only lighting in the city - the magic lanterns went out along with the power of the wizards.
Third kingdom. Sarda
Nairina Siren
Our world was falling into ruins. It collapsed, burying life, fate, values, worldview, political system under the fragments... This is what happens when the basis of power disappears and those who previously ruled are completely powerless. We have lost everything - property, state support, inviolability. One day, by the will of the dark lord Rian Tier, the demons of the Abyss sealed the magic of absolutely all the gifted inhabitants of the kingdom. This was considered impossible - but it happened. We were taught that magicians are independent of external influences - but we were deprived of magic from the outside. A treaty made two centuries ago between all the seven human kingdoms guaranteed us protection... but no one came to the rescue. We, deprived of strength and support, found ourselves defenseless in the face of those who considered themselves superior by birthright. The aristocracy, oppressed for centuries by the Coven of Mages, rose from their knees, burning with a thirst for revenge.
Many of us left the capital even before the aristocracy elected a king at the request of the dark lord. The rest hastily fled, as soon as it became clear that the choice of the ancient families fell on Luer Tamies - an implacable opponent of magic and magicians in particular, who opposed the Coven of Magicians in its heyday, and even now ... The flight of magicians from the capital was massive, but secret. The former archmages shaved off their beards and cut their gray locks in the fashion of the middle class, the magi hurriedly changed robes for dresses, adepts burned their uniforms ... I was glad that the magicians left - they did not see how at sunset, as soon as they announced the accession of Luer the first, they burned their houses .
They didn’t see… but I stood that night in front of the quarter of magicians and, not holding back tears, watched how everything that once made up my world was destroyed in the haze of fire… My house, bright, with huge stained-glass windows, with a garden of ever-blooming Dormei roses , my favorite swing in a gazebo covered with grapes... It didn’t want to catch fire for a long time, there were no magicians, but the stones fed for decades kept an echo of protective spells and several times the fire, fueled by chips from furniture, died out... Bottles of alcohol solved this problem and soon the house, in where I was born and spent so many happy years, was engulfed in flames… Huge windows burst, stained-glass crystals crumbled… At that moment, the first convulsive sob escaped my chest… The first and last. And silently swallowing my tears, I watched how the snow-white building turned black from soot and soot, how the roof fell, throwing up a sheaf of sparks, how the crowd of arsonists roared joyfully and triumphantly ... Men, women and children in gray inexpressive clothes. They rejoiced, dancing on the ruins of the manor houses. They, like everyone else here, clearly understood that even those whose houses were now on fire in the Mages quarter had no right to condemn them. And when the barely formed detachments of guards arrived at the conflagrations, no one grabbed the arsonists. They called for order, reminded that the fire could spread to the houses of respectable residents of the city, and not only destroy the dwellings of despicable magicians, and they left, not wanting to spoil the first Night of Freedom for the former slaves.
There were so many of them, those who yesterday were property, and now they were feasting, intoxicated with will and impunity ... So many. It seemed that the whole wide street was filled with gray clothes of angry former slaves seeking revenge. And indeed they were looking, desperately looking into the faces of onlookers and passers-by, looking for those who could throw accusations in the face. Those whom only today they had the right to tear to pieces, and it is unlikely that those deprived of power would come to the rescue. But none of the magicians would dare to stay in the quarter on this terrible night ... except me. And I had no reason to be afraid - slaves never appeared in my house. Both mother and father considered slavery unacceptable, after their death, my brother and I adhered to the respect instilled from childhood for ordinary people. In our house, the servants regularly received a salary, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Torrek, who replaced our mother after the death of our parents, refused to take money at all, citing the fact that she lives on our full support ... It’s strange, looking at how the fire slowly goes out in a burnt house For the first time, I rejoiced at her death. The nanny with a smile on her lips passed away only a month ago, and her death was a blow to me and my brother, so many tears, so many regrets... But now I'm glad that she doesn't see all this.
To the right of our house, the Firemaster's mansion was on fire. At some point, the flame reached the laboratory of Mr. Orius and the first explosion of fireworks sounded in the night. A roar of thunder and a giant fiery bird soars in the black sky with its wings outstretched ... A roar - and the body of the bird is torn up by fiery purple flowers ... Another roar, and the blossoming flowers are pierced by the rays of a false sun ... A roar ...
The crowd cheered.
Fireworks in honor of the Night of Freedom!..
For our king!
Death to mages!
Burn the robes!..
I couldn't take it. Turning around, wearily wandered away, shuddering every time. When the roar heralded the birth of a new fiery miracle. The sky above me sparkled with all the colors, and I looked exclusively at my feet, unable to observe the mass hysteria of intoxicating lawlessness anymore ...
We were warned of possible disturbances. In the morning, having gathered everyone in the assembly hall of the Academy of Magical Sciences, rector Wilnar Neros told about the likely development of events. No, there was no talk of the mass destruction of magicians, the aristocrats clearly understood - in this case, the dark lords would intervene, but ... But how can a barely formed government be held responsible for the actions of former slaves, intoxicated with the taste of freedom? The answer is obvious. Therefore, the rector strongly recommended to remove the robes, identification amulets and leave Sarda. Run away, leaving the houses, until the chaos stops and the new king takes control of the situation in the capital.
Running is excellent advice for those who have somewhere to hide, for those whose houses are located outside the city limits, or those who are related by family ties to the aristocracy. I had nowhere to run. Those who have money can also run. I didn't have them. Families need to run… but I was left completely alone, only with the hope that my brother, who disappeared on the day when the dark ones appeared, would return. A foolish hope, given the unfortunate fact that I couldn't find him even when I still had magic. Not me, not Professor Orman, not the council. Then I rushed around the city, giving away all the jewelry left from my mother, but there was only one answer - "He is gone, Mrs. Siren."
A fiery dragon roared in the sky. The most expensive of Magister Orius's fireworks, I remember, it was last ordered seven years ago for the celebration of the Day of Magic, and the coven paid no small amount for this fiery miracle. It's funny, now the dragon was the only lighting in the city - the magic lanterns went out along with the power of the wizards.
Hey, step aside! - an ominous cry.
Pressing against the wall, she waited until the cavalcade of riders rushed by ... Previously, the canvas of the street was protected from the footpath by magic, now it is gone. There is nothing. And before my eyes is the same heart-breaking picture - my house on fire ... And at some point I realize that I have not been standing for a long time, but slowly sliding down the wall, shaking from restrained sobs. I wanted to die, here and now, just stop breathing and never wake up again... I wanted to... but there was still a hope, a very illusory one, and yet a hope that Niran would return. He must return, he must. And I have to live and wait. I must.
And slowly getting up, I wearily went to the very outskirts of the city, where I rented a room for a month. There was simply no more money. Perhaps Darika is right, and I should not have spent all the available funds on finding my brother, and the jewelry would still be very useful to me, but it is better to know that you did your best than to be tormented by the thought of a lost chance.
I walked along the dark streets for a long time. I was not afraid to get lost - along the central road to the end, and then turn two lanes, pass by wretched houses and reach the apartment building of the city outskirts. And as soon as I approached, I carefully knocked on the door - three quick, four with a longer interval of blow.
The door opened, the disheveled Madame Uras stuck out her long, hooked nose, furtively looked around, grabbed my arm and dragged me into the inside of a foul-smelling room.
What are you kidding? she asked gloomily.
Sorry, I knew I had nothing to apologize for, but still, Lady Uras was the only one who agreed to take in a townswoman in a green mage robe, and I was not at all in the position to show pride.
Elena Star
DARK EMPIRE. BOOK 1
Third kingdom. Sarda Nairina Siren
Our world was falling into ruins. It collapsed, burying life, fate, values, worldview, political system under the fragments... This is what happens when the basis of power disappears and those who previously ruled are completely powerless. We have lost everything - property, state support, inviolability. One day, by the will of the dark lord Rian Tier, the demons of the Abyss sealed the magic of absolutely all the gifted inhabitants of the kingdom. This was considered impossible - but it happened. We were taught that magicians are independent of external influences - but we were deprived of magic from the outside. A treaty made two centuries ago between all the seven human kingdoms guaranteed us protection... but no one came to the rescue. We, deprived of strength and support, found ourselves defenseless in the face of those who considered themselves superior by birthright. The aristocracy, oppressed for centuries by the Coven of Mages, rose from their knees, burning with a thirst for revenge.
Many of us left the capital even before the aristocracy elected a king at the request of the dark lord. The rest hastily fled, as soon as it became clear that the choice of the ancient families fell on Luer Tamies - an implacable opponent of magic and magicians in particular, who opposed the Coven of Magicians in its heyday, and even now ... The flight of magicians from the capital was massive, but secret. The former archmages shaved off their beards and cut their gray locks in the fashion of the middle class, the magi hurriedly changed robes for dresses, adepts burned their uniforms ... I was glad that the magicians left - they did not see how at sunset, as soon as they announced the accession of Luer the first, they burned their houses .
They didn’t see… but I stood that night in front of the quarter of magicians and, not holding back tears, watched how everything that once made up my world was destroyed in the haze of fire… My house, bright, with huge stained-glass windows, with a garden of ever-blooming Dormei roses , my favorite swing in a gazebo covered with grapes... It didn’t want to catch fire for a long time, there were no magicians, but the stones fed for decades kept an echo of protective spells and several times the fire, fueled by chips from furniture, died out... Bottles of alcohol solved this problem and soon the house, in where I was born and spent so many happy years, was engulfed in flames… Huge windows burst, stained-glass crystals crumbled… At that moment, the first convulsive sob escaped my chest… The first and last. And silently swallowing my tears, I watched how the snow-white building turned black from soot and soot, how the roof fell, throwing up a sheaf of sparks, how the crowd of arsonists roared joyfully and triumphantly ... Men, women and children in gray inexpressive clothes. They rejoiced, dancing on the ruins of the manor houses. They, like everyone else here, clearly understood that even those whose houses were now on fire in the Mages quarter had no right to condemn them. And when the barely formed detachments of guards arrived at the conflagrations, no one grabbed the arsonists. They called for order, reminded that the fire could spread to the houses of respectable residents of the city, and not only destroy the dwellings of despicable magicians, and they left, not wanting to spoil the first Night of Freedom for the former slaves.
There were so many of them, those who yesterday were property, and now they were feasting, intoxicated with will and impunity ... So many. It seemed that the whole wide street was filled with gray clothes of angry former slaves seeking revenge. And indeed they were looking, desperately looking into the faces of onlookers and passers-by, looking for those who could throw accusations in the face. Those whom only today they had the right to tear to pieces, and it is unlikely that those deprived of power would come to the rescue. But none of the magicians would dare to stay in the quarter on this terrible night ... except me. And I had no reason to be afraid - slaves never appeared in my house. Both mother and father considered slavery unacceptable, after their death, my brother and I adhered to the respect instilled from childhood for ordinary people. In our house, the servants regularly received a salary, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Torrek, who replaced our mother after the death of our parents, refused to take money at all, citing the fact that she lives on our full support ... It’s strange, looking at how the fire slowly goes out in a burnt house For the first time, I rejoiced at her death. The nanny with a smile on her lips passed away only a month ago, and her death was a blow to me and my brother, so many tears, so many regrets... But now I'm glad that she doesn't see all this.
Nairina Siren
Our world was falling into ruins. It collapsed, burying life, fate, values, worldview, political system under the fragments... This is what happens when the basis of power disappears and those who previously ruled are completely powerless. We have lost everything - property, state support, inviolability. One day, by the will of the dark lord Rian Tier, the demons of the Abyss sealed the magic of absolutely all the gifted inhabitants of the kingdom. This was considered impossible - but it happened. We were taught that magicians are independent of external influences - but we were deprived of magic from the outside. A treaty made two centuries ago between all the seven human kingdoms guaranteed us protection... but no one came to the rescue. We, deprived of strength and support, found ourselves defenseless in the face of those who considered themselves superior by birthright. The aristocracy, oppressed for centuries by the Coven of Mages, rose from their knees, burning with a thirst for revenge.
Many of us left the capital even before the aristocracy elected a king at the request of the dark lord. The rest hastily fled, as soon as it became clear that the choice of the ancient families fell on Luer Tamies - an implacable opponent of magic and magicians in particular, who opposed the Coven of Magicians in its heyday, and even now ... The flight of magicians from the capital was massive, but secret. The former archmages shaved off their beards and cut their gray locks in the fashion of the middle class, the magi hurriedly changed robes for dresses, adepts burned their uniforms ... I was glad that the magicians left - they did not see how at sunset, as soon as they announced the accession of Luer the first, they burned their houses .
They didn’t see… but I stood that night in front of the quarter of magicians and, not holding back tears, watched how everything that once made up my world was destroyed in the haze of fire… My house, bright, with huge stained-glass windows, with a garden of ever-blooming Dormei roses , my favorite swing in a gazebo covered with grapes... It didn’t want to catch fire for a long time, there were no magicians, but the stones fed for decades kept an echo of protective spells and several times the fire, fueled by chips from furniture, died out... Bottles of alcohol solved this problem and soon the house, in where I was born and spent so many happy years, was engulfed in flames… Huge windows burst, stained-glass crystals crumbled… At that moment, the first convulsive sob escaped my chest… The first and last. And silently swallowing my tears, I watched how the snow-white building turned black from soot and soot, how the roof fell, throwing up a sheaf of sparks, how the crowd of arsonists roared joyfully and triumphantly ... Men, women and children in gray inexpressive clothes. They rejoiced, dancing on the ruins of the manor houses. They, like everyone else here, clearly understood that even those whose houses were now on fire in the Mages quarter had no right to condemn them. And when the barely formed detachments of guards arrived at the conflagrations, no one grabbed the arsonists. They called for order, reminded that the fire could spread to the houses of respectable residents of the city, and not only destroy the dwellings of despicable magicians, and they left, not wanting to spoil the first Night of Freedom for the former slaves.
There were so many of them, those who yesterday were property, and now they were feasting, intoxicated with will and impunity ... So many. It seemed that the whole wide street was filled with gray clothes of angry former slaves seeking revenge. And indeed they were looking, desperately looking into the faces of onlookers and passers-by, looking for those who could throw accusations in the face. Those whom only today they had the right to tear to pieces, and it is unlikely that those deprived of power would come to the rescue. But none of the magicians would dare to stay in the quarter on this terrible night ... except me. And I had no reason to be afraid - slaves never appeared in my house. Both mother and father considered slavery unacceptable, after their death, my brother and I adhered to the respect instilled from childhood for ordinary people. In our house, the servants regularly received a salary, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Torrek, who replaced our mother after the death of our parents, refused to take money at all, citing the fact that she lives on our full support ... It’s strange, looking at how the fire slowly goes out in a burnt house For the first time, I rejoiced at her death. The nanny with a smile on her lips passed away only a month ago, and her death was a blow to me and my brother, so many tears, so many regrets... But now I'm glad that she doesn't see all this.
To the right of our house, the Firemaster's mansion was on fire. At some point, the flame reached the laboratory of Mr. Orius and the first explosion of fireworks sounded in the night. A roar of thunder and a giant fiery bird soars in the black sky with its wings outstretched ... A roar - and the body of the bird is torn up by fiery purple flowers ... Another roar, and the blossoming flowers are pierced by the rays of a false sun ... A roar ...
The crowd cheered.
Fireworks in honor of the Night of Freedom!..
For our king!
Death to mages!
Burn the robes!..
I couldn't take it. Turning around, wearily wandered away, shuddering every time. When the roar heralded the birth of a new fiery miracle. The sky above me sparkled with all the colors, and I looked exclusively at my feet, unable to observe the mass hysteria of intoxicating lawlessness anymore ...
We were warned of possible disturbances. In the morning, having gathered everyone in the assembly hall of the Academy of Magical Sciences, rector Wilnar Neros told about the likely development of events. No, there was no talk of the mass destruction of magicians, the aristocrats clearly understood - in this case, the dark lords would intervene, but ... But how can a barely formed government be held responsible for the actions of former slaves, intoxicated with the taste of freedom? The answer is obvious. Therefore, the rector strongly recommended to remove the robes, identification amulets and leave Sarda. Run away, leaving the houses, until the chaos stops and the new king takes control of the situation in the capital.
Running is excellent advice for those who have somewhere to hide, for those whose houses are located outside the city limits, or those who are related by family ties to the aristocracy. I had nowhere to run. Those who have money can also run. I didn't have them. Families need to run… but I was left completely alone, only with the hope that my brother, who disappeared on the day when the dark ones appeared, would return. A foolish hope, given the unfortunate fact that I couldn't find him even when I still had magic. Not me, not Professor Orman, not the council. Then I rushed around the city, giving away all the jewelry left from my mother, but there was only one answer - "He is gone, Mrs. Siren."
A fiery dragon roared in the sky. The most expensive of Magister Orius's fireworks, I remember, it was last ordered seven years ago for the celebration of the Day of Magic, and the coven paid no small amount for this fiery miracle. It's funny, now the dragon was the only lighting in the city - the magic lanterns went out along with the power of the wizards.
1Elena Star
Dark Empire 2
Elena Star
Dark Empire 2
Third kingdom. Sarda.
Nairina Siren
The world in which I was born and raised, the world of magic, miracles and sorcery, was disappearing. The magicians who once ruled the Third Kingdom became outcasts. There were no more robes on the roads, no loose hair of free magicians, no attention was drawn to the long snow-white beards of the archmages, and you could not find a single pointed hat. There were rumors in the city that the magicians were gathering troops on the border and preparing to regain power again. Newspapers wrote that the disempowered, not having received the assistance required by the agreement from the Seven Kingdoms, found support in the camp of apostate magicians. I didn't believe in the last one. I did not believe that the old order would return.
For me, the world filled with magic has sunk into oblivion.
And I built my own world, built diligently, with diligence and faith that I could manage. Must.
Am I submitting a list? - Aleh asked, tearing me away from the contemplation of the new signboard.
On dark green enamel there is a golden ligature "Magic of tea".
I came up with the name. The design was the same, and I even had to write, for the first time since the first year and half-forgotten calligraphy lessons, I took up the brush. But the ornament of the sign was already painted by the master, I would not have been able to do it that way.
Yes, send, - I confirmed. - Call Mr. Danes?
Aleh nodded. Then he looked around the street terrace and once again said:
It turned out magical.
I blushed in embarrassment. Aleh today saw for the first time everything that Herman, Sam and I have done over the past week. And I honestly admitted that I did not believe that we would manage to cope so quickly. I didn't believe it myself. But they did. Opening is tonight. And with a beating heart, I once again examined the snow-white brickwork that replaced the wooden boards, the elegant door made of glass and forged vines, dark wood tables covered with snow-white squares of openwork tablecloth, bouquets of white wild flowers, in simple but elegant white clay vases, sparkling dark lacquered chairs, vines of tea roses grown outside the city, braiding the fence separating the terrace from the road. Simple, elegant, sophisticated.
And a completely different atmosphere, it is worth entering the tea room itself - immediately, from the threshold, you seem to plunge into a light veil of bitter green tea and a spring flower arrangement. This is not tea - a special tea oil created by my order, with which snow-white fabric lanterns were impregnated, in which candles burned. It was the main focus of the interior. During the day, snow-white lanterns in the sun-filled space due to the enlarged window openings set off the walls, finished with light varnished wood, to match the wicker chairs, in the evening they illuminated everything with a soft, pleasant light. And it turned out that in the main hall it was always light and joyful, but in the inner one, where each table was located in a separate office fenced with dense fabric, twilight reigned both during the day and in the evening. And dishes were a special pride - snow-white tea sets, snow-white plates and trays and cutlery sparkling like silver.
I liked it. A particularly antique plan of our Capital, placed on the ceiling, and allowing visitors to study the map of the city, the location of hotels and restaurants. The idea was mine, but Sam approached it in his own way - as far as I understood, the owners of those hotels that were most clearly displayed on the map paid for the purchase of furniture for our tea room. I don't know how the average Shilly did it, but judging by the conversations of the brothers, I understood everything correctly. By the way, the flowers that braided the street terrace were bought for us by the Gibort brothers, who owned more than a hundred cabs. Herman negotiated with them, as a result of their agreement, if necessary, call a cab for visitors, the carriers turned specifically to the Gibort brothers' cabs. It was difficult for me to understand the benefits of this scheme, and therefore I simply trusted Herman and in this way we were able to bring tea roses into the interior.
Mr. Danes, - I called out, not seeing the manager in the tea room.
Unable to resist, I followed there, and found an amazing picture - Mr. Danes, Mr. Illon, the administrator of the tea house, and Mrs. Illon, the head cook, were sitting on a snow-white sofa in one of the offices, stretching their legs and clasping their hands at the back of their heads.
Yeah, - Ms. Illon drawled, as soon as I was in their field of vision, - beautyaaa ... I don’t want to get up, Ms. Nayrina.
I smiled. Here everyone addressed me as “Madam” and not “Lady”, it was easier for me, and, I suppose, for them too.
