Raven's Soul. Volume 2 - стр. 24
– I didn't sleep well, but the fresh air will work wonders, you'll see! – I winked at the girls.
– If you remember, why are you still in bed? – Alva asked unhappily. – Daddy, you're going to miss everything! Everyone's already gathered! They'll be blowing the horn soon!
"What is she talking about?" – I wondered, frantically trying to remember what day it was and why everyone was going somewhere. The poison seemed to have robbed me of my ability to reason soberly and remember dates. I didn't even know what day of the week today was.
"She's talking about King Juris' Memorial Day. If you don't show up on time, Princess Hedda won't forgive you, and neither will anyone else, because you'll be showing blatant disrespect for the memory of a dead man," Vit politely prompted me.
"Thank you. What would I do without you? It seems you now work not only as my familiar, but also as my memory," I thanked the snow leopard.
"You'll be paying me in gold soon! Get up already, lazybones!" – chuckled Vit back at me, and his deep laughter made me smile.
After sending the girls to their grandmother, I got out of bed, washed my face, rinsed my mouth with violet water, and then called my personal servant. As he helped me put on one of my hated "weekend" royal suits, a black velvet one, embroidered with beads and silver threads, I tried to figure out exactly how I felt today. My whole body was aching, every bone, every cartilage, as if I were not a young man but a decrepit gray-haired old man. My breathing was short and too frequent, and large black dots danced in front of my eyes, like fat flies on carrion or a corpse… Well, I was a corpse. Almost a corpse. So why don't these winged dead meat eaters swarm around me?
– What a comparison you're making. You're not dead! I'm still alive! – Wit appeared on my bed, wrinkling his nose in distaste. His whiskers stuck out in a funny way, and I laughed involuntarily.
– Is something wrong, Your Majesty? – My servant asked, stopping to straighten the folds of my camisole.
– Don't take it personally, Mark. I just remembered a nice joke," I lied with a smile. – But what about Hedda? Is she ready yet?
– Since early this morning, my lord. They say she's even been to the Holy Father's house to repent of her sins," the servant said, taking up my camisole again. After a short silence, he added quietly: "Everyone in the palace is whispering, my lord… Your consort has suddenly disappeared, and evil tongues have already buried her… They say that you decided to marry Her Highness Princess Hedda, and therefore killed your wife Sylvia Rossi....
– What a fascinating rumor," was all I could say to that.
Fascinating and so far from reality. Me and Hedda. Never. No way. May God himself compel me. I saw Hedda as a big spoiled child, but not as a woman. I haven't even decided for myself whether she's beautiful or not, I don't care at all. I have Sylvia. A captivating, burning and tart rose with thorns.
Oh, if only Vakkerland had known that I had been poisoned, and that I had one foot in the grave, how much happiness, joy, and backbiting that news would have caused!
– Well, that's all, Mark, go on. I can take it from here," I said, wishing to be alone, but seeing the curiosity in my faithful servant's eyes, I smiled and added: "All this is just a foolish fiction. My wife is alive and well, and she is absent because I allowed her to visit her parents in Flammehav. She deserves it.