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The Return Of A Spoiled Villainess 21 This Vixen

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Devon spent the whole night in his office. He did not often visit his mansion, which he inherited along with the post. But this night he couldn't even think of taking advantage of the small room for the rest adjoining his office.

As soon as he delved into the young Countess Marsters case, all fatigue vanished. When he decided to take the place of the Head of the Black Castle five years ago, he was horrified by the state of affairs. But this was on a completely different level of freaking mayhem.

The former head, Lord Gerroth, was to Devon as a father. In spite of the aura of fear that always followed the country's chief executioner, with him, Lord Gerroth was an understanding, but strict teacher.

Devon's gift manifested when he was but a child. He was unlucky and at the same time lucky to be born in the family of the younger brother of the Emperor himself. Such a gift has repeatedly manifested itself in the royal family and was considered to be a curse.

When the boy didn't know how to control his skills yet, he had to endure the grief of betrayal and alienation of even the closest people. Only the Black Judge was never afraid of Devon. He gladly took on the duties of a teacher and at the same time, was able to give the child, which no one wanted to approach, a little parental warmth.

But now, digging in a pile of papers on the table, Devon still could not understand how in just a year it was possible to turn the work of his guardian into such chaos.

Lord Gerroth was always very careful, neat and even his handwriting was like from a calligraphic magazine. When Trevelyan took this post five years ago, there was so much work that he left sorting old cases for later.

Of course, Devon guessed that the main role in all this mess played the temporary Head, and in the past, the a.s.sistant of Lord Gerroth, Daniel Koprit.

After all, even leaving his temporary post, this guy suddenly tried to burn part of the archive, and then, when his idea failed, he completely disappeared in an unknown direction. But Devon did not expect such confusion at all.

The case of the young countess was a complete mystery. Although it was listed as closed.

It was full of sheer speculation and some unconfirmed gossip. Strange denunciations of anonymous persons were exhibited as facts. Koprit even wrote out an order to arrest a young aristocrat on the basis of an anonymous note in which she was allegedly accused of attempting to kill the prince. Moreover, all the letters and accusations were written in the same handwriting.

Furthermore, the order to spy on the Countess was issued much earlier than the record of the prosecution. And it was not based on anything at all. At the same time, he hired some unknown mercenary to do this and not the official trackers from Black Castle. They produce only some incomprehensible reports, and nothing more. And all the records of the Koprit were literally soaked in undisguised antipathy to the girl.


By morning, utterly desperate to find even the slightest clue that would shed light on this mysterious case, Devon finally decided to personally visit his friend and the only person who can give him more or less reliable information now.

Lord Rutland was a known frequenter of the b.a.l.l.s and court receptions. Moreover, it turned out that his younger sister, Lady Anastasia, was once a close friend of Countess Marsters.

Devon never liked being in society. Even people from Black Castle s.h.i.+ed away from him. And the powdered aristocrats avoided him like a fire.

He could count all his appearances at the court on the finger of one hand, and this always happened only by order of the Emperor. Though his uncle always kept his distance, he still treated him quite loyally.

But Blaize attended all these gatherings with surprising constancy. The uncontrollable temper of his energetic friend constantly led Lord Rutland into palace intrigues or love affairs. And even though Blaize was already 37, an unacceptable age for a bachelor aristocrat, not a single lady managed to tie him to herself in marriage yet.

Devon knew with certainty that despite his constant nightly adventures, Blaize was probably already awake and is now most likely training at the Red Castle training field, where he headed.

Despite the early hour, the corridors of the Black Castle, as always were dark and pompous, buzzing with the sound of hurried footsteps on the dark marble floor and quiet conversations between the servants of justice.

On the upper tiers, where senior ranks, judges, and the Head himself worked, were somewhat quieter. But as soon as Devon descended to the lower level, everything around was filled with sounds from many people scurrying around here and there. Lawyers in their black coats with red trim, investigators in gray cloaks and accusers in black mantles with white trim grouped here and there or rushed around.

But as soon as Devon caught their eyes, everyone at once quieted down, as if there was a bubble of silence around him. Even the sound of footsteps seemed to become softer, while people diligently averted their eyes, afraid to meet his gaze, pressing into the walls.

The Head of the Black Castle has long been accustomed to such a reaction and now did not even pay attention to this dramatic change in the general atmosphere, or tried not to notice.

Many people intuitively felt the danger emanating from him, not even fully understanding how right they were.

Devon's unusual gift not only allowed him to read people's emotions but also uncontrollably absorbed the energies out of them. After spending some time with him, many felt tiredness and strange apathy.

Unfortunately, the parents of Devon did not manage to understand this strange phenomenon immediately. Only after the next wet nurse of the boy almost committed suicide, the others began to suspect something was wrong.

Now Devon himself tried to avoid long contacts with anyone. The exception was Blaize. They have been friends since childhood. And when other children tried to avoid his company, the energetic son of General Rutland chased behind him as if he was Devon's shadow.

At first, their parents tried to separate them in every way, fearing for Blaize's health. But soon, many began to notice that the boy's unruly, explosive temper became calmer after spending some time with Devon.

Over time, Blaize's parents even began to insist on the meeting between kids. And Blaize himself has repeatedly admitted that Devon's company makes him relaxed as if his presence alone pacifies a fierce fire in the soul of the young Head of the Red Castle.

All six Castles were also key towers of Arilla inner wall that connected them, thereby creating a hexagon around the upper part of the city inhabited by aristocrats and the wealthiest merchants.

The Red Castle was located in the south, and the Black one just to the east, farther to the northeast was the Yellow Castle, which was responsible for trade and the general welfare of the capital.

Then in a circle, Blue - the country's foreign policy, Green - science and craft, Brown - agriculture.

Several pa.s.sages were made through the wall itself so that employees from one castle could get into another without entering the city.

Devon did not hesitate to choose this way to get to the Red Castle. He tried not to appear on the street more than it was necessary. Due to the size of the city, walking was uncomfortable and took too much time. And due to the peculiarities of Lord Trevelyan, not a single horse agreed to carry such a rider. Furthermore, coaches irritated Devon even more.

The Lord of the Black Castle reached his destination fast enough. The higher ranks had their own separate pa.s.sage in the wall, and on the way, almost no one met him.

It was noisy as always in the stronghold of the military power of the entire Riolian Empire. In addition to the military of various ranks, the halls and corridors were filled with clerks of all stripes.

Not only the castle supervised all tactical decisions on behalf of the whole country, but it also oversaw the training of young officers.

The presence of black in the Red Castle was not new. Between both Castles, there was a special agreement by which joint units were formed to patrol the city. But Devon himself still attracted a lot of attention.

As soon as he emerged from the pa.s.sage, the silence fell in the nearby corridor, interrupted only by a quiet whisper. Many warriors tried not to show their fear, but still quickly got out of the way and carefully averted their eyes. So Devon got to the training field in a familiar circle of alienation.

In spite of the early hour, many officers were already training along with young students. The field was divided into two parts. On the right, there was s.p.a.ce for exercise and running, and on the left, small square blocks separated by a high fence. The Black Lord chose the one, around which crowded the most people.

Indeed, on a small patch, one could immediately see Blaize's impressive figure. The man was almost as tall as Devon, and although his muscles and shoulder width were somewhat inferior to a friend, the grace and dexterity with which he circled around his three opponents made him not an easy rival.

The crowd around with bated breath watched as the head of the Red Castle playfully drove the strongest officers in the corner. They tried their best to break through the protection of the young chief.

But no matter how hard they tried, each attack of their swords was swiftly blocked by Blaize. His sword cut the air with such speed as if it weighed almost nothing.

The audience was so absorbed in this act that they did not even immediately notice Devon's tall figure in the usual black coat among them.

One of the spectators standing right in front of the Lord of the Black Castle, delighted with the next deft lunge of his commander, drew back and stumbled back on Devon.

The guy at first casually threw an apology over his shoulder, without even turning. And only when his friends, who nevertheless bothered to take a look, suddenly fell silent and started slumping sideways, did the guy finally decide to turn around and check what was going on behind him.

The buzz of encouragement and screams of delight was interrupted by a sudden screech, more like a piglet than a human. The loser in the first rows, who made this inappropriate sound, fell out right under the feet of the combatants, interrupting the duel. Blaize finally noticed the confusion at the edge of the training field.

The soldiers and workers of the Red Castle, who until then had watched with ecstasy the course of the duel, were now like two flocks of kids clinging to a fence of the block. Between these two groups, a rather large empty s.p.a.ce was formed in the middle of which stood still the Head of the Black Castle.

From his face, it was difficult to understand what feelings he was experiencing now, but Blaize was willing to argue that it was more of an annoyance than anger.

His old friend was angry very rarely. The head of the Red Castle knew this very well, as he repeatedly tried to enrage his old friend just for fun. It happened only once. But this was enough to discourage any desire to try again.

The unfortunate soldier apparently had no idea of ​​such a feature of Devon, so now this poor man didn't even try to get up, covering his eyes, and pretending to be either dead or in a swoon.

"Devon, why are you crippling my warriors just by your appearance?" - Blaize resented with indignation, barely holding back the sneaker in his voice, squatting down near the "lucky" one.

Lord Trevelyan in response only crossed his arms over his chest and looked intently at the merry friend from under his half-lidded eyes.

Blaize, meanwhile, poked the guy with his finger on the cheek and whispered in his ear, but so that everyone else could easily hear him.

"Buddy, you try not to breathe just yet. Lord Trevelyan very furious. But if you do not move and it is advisable not to give any signs of life, he may lose interest in you. Well, you know, like a rogue bear."

The unfortunate guy uttered a barely audible sob of horror.

"Don't p.i.s.s your pants! He might be encouraged by the smell." - The chief offered advice, - "and do not open eyes. I'll go scare him away. And you, pray that he runs away."

Devon just raised an eyebrow at the last comment.

"Your jokes are getting better and better each time," - he said colorlessly, - "after a couple of years you might even squeeze a laugh out of some dumba.s.s."

"Suns.h.i.+ne! I see you are in a good mood today. What happened? How many people have you brought to tears today?" - asked Blaize cheerfully, leaving the poor guy, that was still playing dead on the ground and approaching his friend with a board smile.

"Not at all, but if you don't shut up now, you can be the first." - Through his teeth, snapped Devon, and turning around, walked toward the castle. Blaize grabbed his coat from his a.s.sistant, hurried after him.

"Come on, Dev. When you begin to look for the good in your amazing gift to bring people to a nervous breakdown just by standing next to them?!"

"Only you and Wellsy can find anything useful in this. And only because you use me as a scarecrow in your love affairs, and he - in his political games."

"You know, I have repeatedly offered to use me in your love affairs. Quid pro quo. I don't mind at all."

"And how is it, pray, tell me? Are you going to catch innocent victims, bind and deliver her to my lair?" - Devon Skeptical glanced at the s.h.i.+ning friend.

Devon already long ago gave up any thoughts about love. It was quite challenging to find a girl who did not faint at the sight of him.

Even the night b.u.t.terflies of the lower city that had seen a great deal were getting drunk to unconsciousness before they performed their duty. So all Devon's experience in relations.h.i.+ps with the opposite s.e.x was limited to confused muttering of drunken priestesses of love.

Although Blaize has made it his new goal lately. He did not get tired of bothering a friend with new brilliant plans to find a bride for Devon or at least a mistress.

"Listen, I was thinking here ..." - Blaize started again, and by the sparkling in his eyes, the Black Lord immediately understood what he was getting at. But it was already impossible to stop the friend.

"What if you'll propose to some daughter of the leader of their northern lands. Of course, I never saw them, but I heard that they are strong and courageous, on the match with their men. You can even marry under the patronage. I can go there in your stead, arrange everything and bring your wife here."

"And then? She will see me and run away at the same second. Unless of course, she does not die from a heart attack immediately."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You are indeed not as handsome as I am, but have you seen these northern barbarians? They also do not look like cute kittens."

Devon just frowned back. He had a t.i.tle and enough wealth to find a bride who at least agreed to tolerate him as her husband. But every time when he was almost ready to accept another of his friend's adventure, he recalled how once he accidentally overheard a conversation between two girls at a ball. One of them just an hour ago was dancing with him. And now, stammering and barely p.r.o.nouncing the words, she described to her companion woman how scared she was to such an extent that even the potion that the sorceress advised her hardly helped.

It turned out that the girls in the castle had organized a sort of compet.i.tion, who would be able to stay longer with the famous Black executioner. Devon still suspected Blaize had a hand in it. It all ended very badly. And he did not want to repeat it ever again.

Apparently somehow feeling his train of thought, Blaize immediately decided to change the subject.

"So what brings you to my humble abode?" - During the conversation, they have already reached the office of the Red Chapter.

Devon, out of habit, settled in a wide armchair closer to the fireplace, and Blaize had no choice but to sit opposite in the guest chair and portray a considerable interest on his face.

"Yesterday some details regarding Khail-hold came to light. I would like to discuss this with you."

"Yesterday? And why are you telling me just today?" - Blaize frowned.

"You asked me to pay attention to the young captain Marsters. And I actually liked this kid."

"Ehhh ... Are you all right?" - Red Lord carefully peered into the face of a friend.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you usually don't like people ... at all."

"That is a pure lie. I like people. Sometimes ... You for example. Well, no. You, I just tolerate." - Devon pondered, trying to remember who he liked among his surrounding. It was not a simple matter. It is difficult to feel sympathy for those who either fear you or hate you or both at the same time.

"I like the royal adviser Robert." - finally found the answer, Devon.

"This is just because he is no less frightening than you. I bet he has his own torture chamber, like you, but just for fun. And he has a nasty laugh. I think the post of Black Lord was not given to him only because he would have liked it too much."

Devon just chuckled back. Blaize, of course, was his close friend, but there were some secrets that he prefers to keep to himself.

"So," - Devon tried to get the conversation back on track. - "Yesterday I visited the Marsters house and talked to the young master. Everything turned out to be arduous than I expected."

"Go on. Out with it" - hurried him, Blaize, already fired up with curiosity.

"Captain Paris confessed to me that he so quickly left the fort after the attack because of his sister, who suffered during the attack," said Devon, and looked at his friend, waiting for a reaction. Blaize frowned at first, comparing the information, and then stared with surprise at Devon.

"Wait, but his sister, as far as I know, has been dead for about six years. Is he crazy? "

"Does not look like it. I didn't see the girl herself. But judging by the emotions that the captain himself and servants experienced in the house, there was definitely a wounded person there. Someone dear to them."

"Then I do not understand anything. I was there when the girl's body was pulled out of the river. I accompanied Anastasia at the funeral. Was it all a setup? But why?"

"That's what I came for. Tell me about her. You did know her." - asked Devon, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, not that well though. Anastasia communicated with her even before their debut. But then I was all in training. I practically lived in the Red Castle. So it will probably be easier to ask my sister." - started Blaize, trying to recall anything useful.

"Do you think we should ask her? I tried to understand this case, but there are so many dark spots. You should not forget that this n.o.ble woman was accused of attempting to kill the prince."

"Well, in the first place there was no attempt at all. Yes, and I doubt that it could even be. Calisto was perceived by many as a spoiled and arrogant n.o.ble. But my sister always sincerely admired her. At first, I was against their friends.h.i.+p. But you know my sister. She is always attracted to weird people like a magnet."

"It reminds me of someone." - drawled Davian, smirking.

"Maybe. So, as much as I remember, Anastasia said that Calisto is surprisingly smart and inventive, even though applying these talents in no good places. Many from the very beginning knew that the young Countess Marsters aimed for the prince and swept the rivals aside like flies. Only a few could compete with her. The young countess was really very beautiful and brought up in the best fas.h.i.+on. Many were shocked when this no-name threw her out of the saddle."

"What a cute nickname you gave our princess." - Devon rebuked him.

"Dev, you know how I feel about her, but it is not important now. Anyway, I personally did not particularly like Calisto, but as a princess or even a queen, I find it much easier to imagine her than this one. Furthermore, there is another oddity in this story."

"Only one?" - mocked Black Lord, raising his brow.

"Do not jest, I'm talking about the second conspirator. If, for example, I can somehow imagine Calisto in the role of an evil witch, she was involved in the intrigue more than once. Now Konrad is hard to imagine as an antagonist at all."

"You mean the student of the head of the green castle? Honestly, I, too, was puzzled by this guy. A talented, hard-working guy with a great future. And suddenly plotting the murder of a prince. And then he kills his partner. In theory, for both of them, this venture would have brought absolutely nothing."

"Right? And although I did not know Konrad all that well either. But Anastasia often talked about him. You know that he designed a part of the sewage system of the city. Many thought that this boy will be the next Head of the Green Castle. Why was he so stupid to break his future? Besides, Calisto and Konrad did not often communicate with each other. Konrad almost did not attend b.a.l.l.s, all the time spent in the studio. I went to Green Castle a couple of times then. And every time I saw him at work. Only there he looked confident, and in society, he seemed to blush forever, like a youngster. Girls often made fun of him."

Devon thought, digesting the information. A blinded apprentice of the master and a spoiled aristocrat are planning to kill the prince...

"Maybe she forced Konrad to partic.i.p.ate in this adventure? And when he eventually refused, they quarreled. And he accidentally killed her. But she survived. And in the river were caught someone else."

"It sounds believable ... "

"Not at all believable!" - Interrupted them a sharp female voice. A red-haired girl broke into the office like a hurricane. She ran to the two men and stopped two steps away. Devon drew back slightly, trying to isolate himself from the storm of emotions hovering around the young woman.

"Anastasia, what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Are you asking me? Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Around her emotions s.h.i.+fted one after another. Anger, anxiety, even joy, and hope.

"Stacy, calm down. Explain what do you mean,"

"Don't pretend you don't know. I already know everything. The maidservant from the Marsters house told her friend, who works as a nanny for the sister of our cook, Ravina yesterday."

"What?" - asked Blaize, instantly losing the string of who-tell-what-to-who.

"Do not pretend to be a fool, I heard what you are talking about. Of course, Cali is back!" - She finished on a high note. Her eyes burned, and her cheeks flushed.

Even at 22, Anastasia Rutland remained a real imp with an uncontrollable temper and emotions spilling over the edge. Probably only because of this, she was the only girl who felt quite comfortable in the presence of the Head of the Black Castle.

"Okay, sit down, please. Let's calmly discuss everything. For starters, tell me exactly what the sister said to the maid of the nanny, etc.?"

"This sister is a nanny and her friend ... Oh! Nevermind! In short, it doesn't matter. This girl said that in the Marsters house there is a real stir. Paris returned with a few wounded. Among them was even an Orc. Can you imagine? A real orc!"

"Okay, Stacy. Focus, do not slide from the topic."

"I'm not sliding. So, among the wounded were Cali and Konrad. The maid did not immediately recognize them. Says they were both all b.l.o.o.d.y and unconscious. Paris brought Cali himself to the house, and Lord Marsters took care of Konrad. Everyone was so scared. Lady Valeria cried so much. But this morning one of the maidservants said that she had seen Cali and Konrad go down to breakfast themselves. She said they are all better. We urgently need to go to them! I so want to see them!"

"Wait, Anastasia, don't rush. We can not go anywhere until we figure everything out."

"Oh, what is there to figure out?!" - Anastasia literally bounced on a chair with impatience.

"Stacy, please remember how they both disappeared. Let's first understand everything."

"Oh. Gos.h.!.+ What are you saying?! Everything was clear to everyone even back then!". - Anastasia threw up her hands.

"Sister, firstly do not forget that Devon was not here at all, and judging by the information that I have, your girlfriend was a dangerous conspirator, and her friend Konrad almost killed her." - warned her Blaize in a stern voice.

"All this nonsense, this is all her mother, Elois. It was she who spread all these rumors, and I am sure that this witch arranged everything with their disappearance. Yes, and stepmother then stuffed me in this h.e.l.lish place."

Anastasia was babbling more and more, all on fire.

Indeed, Rutland remembered well how he was angry at his stepmother when he learned that his sister was forcibly sent to the temple of Yaslav. He was lucky to be born a boy. However even he suffered from people that continually tried to break his explosive temper, to make him adapt to everyone else. It was much worse for Anastasia.

Only teacher Renard, the former Head of the Red Castle and his uncle, was able to understand him and teach him to cope with the fire burning inside. Anastasia was less fortunate. After their mother ran away when the baby was only a year old, servants and babysitters were engaged in raising the child. Besides Calisto, she never had any friends, no one who would not look down on her or wrinkle a nose at her long tongue and strange views on life.

Blaize exhaled as slowly as possible, trying to calm himself down and spoke softer.

"Stacy, I understand how excited you are. But let's put everything in order."

"Okay, okay, okay" - The girl took a couple of calming breaths and started to speak already slower.

"Calisto is indeed not a holy nun. But you must understand. Her mother since childhood raised her to become a princess, no less. The goal is certainly not the best, but I'm not judging. Moreover, I was always annoyed by other girls. They only pretend to be innocent, but in fact, they wanted the same. They just never dared to admit it. They are all two-faced vipers. They smile at you and start whispering behind your back. Calisto was not like that. Maybe sometimes she overdid it. She was the same as me. She was also driven continuously forced into the framework, made to do what others say. Only now she learned to use it. She taught me a lot and always protected me."

"So you mean to say that she did not intend to kill the prince?" - Devon spoke up, watching Anastasia's expression with interest.

"Of course not. Why would she?! In the last months before her disappearance, she pulled back from me a little. I thought she was just not in the mood because the prince is now showing signs of attention to another. But when I asked her, Cali said that she had never really loved the prince, and now she was fully aware of how senseless her actions were. I saw that she was worried about something, but she did not trust me. And when I noticed that she was increasingly communicating with Konrad, was whispering with him, I was furious. And Konrad himself. He was chasing me from the very beginning. Even when I did not specifically pay attention to him, he still dragged me a bunch of flowers or these stupid wooden animals. And then he began to avoid me, not even h.e.l.lo." - Grief, sadness, and sorrow dispersed from Stacy in a waive. Devon tensed a bit but still kept a close look.

But Blaize, not paying attention to her sister's condition, clung to her words.

"Wait a minute, you want to say that this puppy was chasing you? Who is he to do so? Some small apprentice decided that he could become part of the family of the Red Chapter?" - Red Lord snarled, leaping from his seat.

"First of all, then you were not the head of the Red Castle," - Stacy begun to boil, provoked by his brother. - "And secondly, even though Konrad has never been a handsome man or a warrior, but he was the best master. Many believed that he would be the next Head of Greens. And Lord Lestor always appreciated his intelligence and skill. You should have seen those animals that he gave me, they seem to be alive!"

"But he is sissy and always stammered and mumbled like a girl." - barked Blaize, squeezing his fists.

"At least he was not a pompous a.s.s like all of you, brutes!" - the swearing between brother and sister had already reached the limit, and both of them were ready to cling to each other's hair when Devon decided to calm them down.

"Okay! Kids, calm down. Do not get excited, Stacy, better tell me how it happened that they were accused of attempted murder."

Anastasia took a deep breath and tried to calm down, smoothing out the folds on her dress.

"On that day," - she began at last, in a calm tone, - "Cali and Konrad came to a dinner party, I don't even remember whose. They both behaved strangely. Almost did not talk to me. I was already on edge, and then I caught them together whispering about something. Konrad even held her hand, and she looked at him like that. I do not even know, I moved in on them like a demon. I screamed at both. And they did not even say anything, they did not explain. Just stood and looked away. I was mad. I could not stay there anymore, so I left without waiting for lunch. And the next morning the whole city was already buzzing about the a.s.sa.s.sination, and so on... "

"So you want to say that there was something between them? This b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" - Blaize spat in outrage.

"Oh! No! I thought about it a lot later. At first, Cali didn't even notice Konrad. But then he became more like a brother to her. She hid a lot, and always tried to seem cheerful and carefree. But then, even though I didn't understand it right away, Cali looked scared, and Konrad seemed to be trying to support her. It just was so weird. Cali knew that Konrad was in love with me and often said that if I did not feel anything in return, I should tell him directly. But I was a stupid girl and did not notice how my two friends got into trouble. They were everything to me. Only when they both died, I realized how much they mean to me."

Anastasia was seriously upset, tears flowed down her cheeks. The bitterness and sadness started to spread like a grey cloud. Devon could not calmly look at the struggles of a girl who was almost like a younger sister for him.

"Do not worry, Stacy. You say they are back. We will go to them and sort things out. You'll see." - He said as gently as possible, awkwardly handing her his handkerchief.

For him, such a manifestation of feelings was quite unusual. Black Lord felt very insecure, trying to comfort a crying girl. But Anastasia apparently did not pay attention to the embarra.s.sment of the man and having taken a black handkerchief, blow her nose not very elegantly in it.

"Okay," - she finally squeezed out of herself, in a trembling voice. - "Only we will go altogether."

"Uh, Stasi, I think at first ... " - started Blaize.

"Nooo .. " - Anastasia howled, interrupting her brother and starting to cry again.

"Okay, Okay. let's go altogether." - instantly gave up the Rad Chief, not being able to handle sister's tiers.

"Truly?"

"Truly!"- Devon confirmed though such visits were not at all part of his plans.

"That's great," - the girl clapped her hands, wiping away tears jumped to her feet.

There was no trace of gray sadness and grief around the girl, only impatience and antic.i.p.ation. Devon thought he was used to Blaze's mood swings. It jumped from anger to a state of childish delight in a second. But Anastasia could do it so suddenly that Devon's head started to spin.

"Let's go?" - asked Stacy already bouncing with impatience near the door.

"Anastasia, where are you going?"

"To the Marsters home of course. What are you idling about?"

"We can't just go there. This is contrary to all etiquette. First, we will send a letter warning about our visit and only after we receive the answer... "

"But it's so loooong." - the girl started wailing again

"Either so or you are not going at all!" - Blaize snapped at her. Apparently, he didn't expect that everything would turn out that way and already regretted that let his sister wrap them around her little finger.

The radiant blue haze around the girl slightly faded, and her eyes became sad and imploring. She didn't say anything but kept staring at them with such a plea.

"No," - Blaize barked again, and stood in front of her, not letting this vixen use her puppy eyes on Devon, who, judging by the nervous tapping of his fingers already started to melt. - "If you don't stop right now, then go home."

"Fine," - Stacy mutter dejectedly. - "Then I will go home. And when you're ready, pick me up."

Then, having received a.s.surances that she would not be forgotten for sure and would not be left out on purpose, Anastasia finally allowed herself to be shown out, and Blaize returned to his office so that they could plan everything for the evening.

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