Anchorites. chapter 4. blood and wine

CHAPTER FOUR. BLOOD AND WINE

Taurentius had not been a guest in the royal castle for a long time. When he and his son last visited here, King Primus was still alive. Taurentius always regarded Primus as a strong ruler, though he had no respect for king's membership of the mortal race. The inhabitants of Embry, a glorious city that had been the capital of Abbaddon for centuries and the seat of the Halliboures royal dynasty, were very receptive to King Primus during his lifetime and after his sudden death. Under Primus the poor did not starve to death and had at least some job that gave them hope for a sustainable future. Thanks to Primus, the war did not come to the capital, and the townspeople have traditionally shouted solemn cries of «Our Savior!» every time the king walked the streets of Embry. And it was also obvious to everyone that the King was restraining the Queen’s sinister tendencies, who, to put it mildly, was not a very pleasant person, conceited, wasteful and in many ways not knowing the measure, and when her husband’s death brought her power, every servant or citizen of Embry’s lands could feel the consequences of this woman’s decisions.
The Queen Parnasida was most appreciative of her beauty and tried her best to preserve her youth. It was no secret to anyone that she spent days trying to figure out how to get immortality, and she had no interest whatsoever in the politics and welfare of the people of Embry, once the real glorious capital of Abbaddon’s lands, but now only in words. While Parnasida sought the secret of eternal youth, Embry became a city of misery and despair with each passing day, people dying of hunger and cold, stealing food, even killing for food. Murder of a whole family with children for the sake of a piece of moldy bread no longer seemed such an incredible event to anyone in the capital. But in addition to criminals, on whom in most cases the royal guards did not give a damn, there were also hard workers, on whom, on the contrary, the close attention of those in power was directed: servants of the royal court almost forcibly took away most of the already meager harvest from farmers, leaving mere crumbs for them. It was a some kind of tribute, if it real could be name this way, because frankly speaking no one collected taxes long ago for a reason: the people of Embry were so impoverished that no one remembered what silver coins looked like, let alone gold. The Queen was content, and the people were mostly too weak for trying to rebel. A little over three years have passed since the death of King Primus, and this time has already turned into an eternity, oddly enough, ordinary people got used to poverty very quickly.
Although Taurentius did not take the Queen seriously and saw no enemy in her, he preferred to communicate with Parnasida as seldom and with great care as possible. As well as to appear in the capital. In the territory of Embry, the magical powers of Taurentius noticeably weakened, though not completely disappear. This was the first reason why Taurentius' troops could not attack the capital with war, but the second - the wizard was interested in maintaining neutral relations with the queen: there were good reasons.
Today the visit was forced. Taurentius was excited and determined. Incarnated from a black air clot, he landed deftly at the entrance to the city, passing through the archway, beyond which the ornate street began, leading into the depths of old and decrepit buildings that were the homes of the local poor. Taurentius walked steadily, not at all interested in the terrible scenery of the local surroundings. And the local people would occasionally raise their heads on a rushing sorcerer, as if they were in their own world.
Taurentius was a tall and very thin man with a long and slightly gray beard, long, straight hair, wearing an emerald cloak that cast a cold swamp color. The wizard had large black eyes, high cheekbones, and thick, frowning eyebrows. On his right index finger, the wizard wore a ring with large swamp-colored stone that mattered to him, as Taurentius never removed this jewelry. Especially today, because on the territory of the capital the wizard could not control his forces, and the ring in this situation became his only amulet, which made Taurentius at least to some extent protected.
Even ignoring the degradation of Embry, it was impossible not to notice that the capital, figuratively speaking, was going to the bottom: the streets smeared with sewage, closer to the central square appeared poor beggars, rather aggressive in their requests and pleas, and crossing the alley, leading to the bridge, Taurentius stepped over two dead bodies, apparently not the first day lying on the stonemasonry: woman and her also lifeless breastfed child. On the streets of the capital the stinking smell of death was pouring out, it was impossible to describe. Apparently, the hope that is dying last has long since left the ordinary people of Embry.
Although Embry was a large city, Taurentius quickly penetrated the western part of it, finding himself at a majestic stone castle, at whose gates stood like marble statues five guards in armor and huge swords. Taurentius could have come straight to the castle, bypassing all the annoying formalities and ceremonies, but it was important to him that the queen be informed of his arrival. The element of surprise was unnecessary today.
One of the guards, leaving his post, walked the guest along a stone road framed by narrow flowerbeds with white roses on legs covered with large, dangerous-looking stems. Taurentius was amused by the way the guard held onto the hilt of the sword while on alert.
The castle, unlike the city streets of Embry, has not changed at all. At once, it was clear what was being maintained in order, and to what was manifest true indifference: the luxury of the palace’s decoration contrasted vividly with the gray and mud of a poor city. The heels of Taurentius made a thunderous knock, touching the shiny marble floor. The entrance hall led the wizard to a wide staircase, the steps of which were covered with a dark red artsy cloth, and the beige handrails were crowned with skillful statues of lions of purple stone. The hall was well lit by a number of torches. Taurentius, not looking around, but glancing at the top of the staircase, grinned at the queen Parnasida, who was already standing, folding his arms in front of him.
The Queen was already in her fourth decade of life, and should have been credited for her efforts: Parnasida looked young enough for her age, and from a great distance she could be mistaken for a very young girl. Thick white hair was gathered in many braids, skillfully assembled in an elegant nest, and the head was crowned decorated with emerald tiara, small but striking. The Queen was slim, a woman of small stature, even miniature, which she very skillfully concealed behind lush pompous dresses: for example, today Parnasida wore a satin dress with a corset, white and decorated with small decorative rose buds, and some might have thought that this outfit was ridiculous, but in fact no one, including Taurentius himself, knew anything to compare it with, because no one in Abbaddon but the queen wore and could not afford such outlandish outfits at all.
"You can go," said the Queen imperiously to the guard, and he departed obediently. “The news that you asked for an audience plunged me in... how to put it more precisely...” the woman grinned at the guest, “... in bewilderment...”
"Are you alone, Your Majesty?" Taurentius asked as he walked up the stairs. "And where are your sycophant councilors, your court subjects who have been circling you day and night?"
And indeed, the last time Taurentius was in the royal palace, it was filled with many people, mostly fawning. Parnasida chuckled loudly, looking at the guest even with some condescending look, as if she thought his comment was less sarcastic than pathetic. The Queen was well aware of who she was dealing with now, how much violence the wizard had committed and how cruel he could have been at the right moment, but that did not frighten her, and Parnasida continued to hold the face of an arrogant highborn person.
"Things have changed, my friend, while you were holed up in your tower," said the queen in a loud voice. "And I am no longer the foolish young lady under King Primus who called me his wife, rightly but crudely and cynically."
It was surprising that in such a miniature warehouse this woman had a deep, strong, low voice that could both delight and frighten with the velvet of her sound. Parnasida knew of all of Taurentius, as well as the fact that his forces in the capital’s territory were insignificant, so she was not afraid of the wizard at all, even depicting some superiority over him, which looked more comical than natural from the outside.
"You’ve wanted to take the throne for so long, Your Majesty, and now, look, you’re the queen! The Holy Five have heard your prayers, and the changes have finally come to the royal capital. Congratulations!"
Taurentius was slowly approaching the queen, who was standing there, staring down the stairs at the guest with cold eyes on him.
"Not the Five gave me this opportunity to be queen. And not they granted me the privilege of being young and full of strength..."
"And not the Five killed Primus, sending him to the Shadow World. And not the Five also besmirched the capital by poverty and hunger. But you and I, Queen Parnasida, know better than anyone the price of power in this volatile world. And frankly, I have not come here to discuss the internal politics of your kingdom. We have unfinished business to attend to. And I can’t wait to finish it."
The Queen scowled again, her eyebrow hanging a little. The corner of her lips reached upwards, forming a curved smile.
“Enough prefaces, my slippery friend. Leave empty words to those who still believe in their necessity. Do you have business with me? So lay it all out straight now.” She said urgently.
"I need the heiress to the throne," said Taurentius.
The Queen shuddered. She clearly did not expect such a request. Nor did she expect that Taurentius was in principle aware of the royal bastard. Realizing that the leak could be dangerous, she decided to lie to the last.
"The heirs of Primus are dead, all of them!" Parnasida snapped in an even colder tone. "I took care of it."
Taurentius showed the queen with all his appearance that she should not take him for a complete fool. He saw the Queen blushing. She was not angry. She was frightened. The wizard glared at Parnasida, fruitlessly waiting for the truth. However, it seemed to be never to come.
"We both know that’s not true. A half-blood one, the result of mating between King Prime and the Elf Tauriel, an illegitimate child, a girl. The one Your Majesty has held captive since Primus was betrayed and killed. And the one that Your Majesty hates with all her heart, but for some reason keeps this child alive. If something has escaped my sight, please correct me."
"That’s enough!" said the queen, raising her hand in the air. Taurentius fell silent. Instead of words, there was only a snide smile.
Parnasida and her guest were staring into each other’s eyes, and it seemed that they switched to non-verbal communication for a while. Taurentius spread his hands, clearly letting the interlocutor know there was no point in hiding the truth. The queen was suddenly very old: her face was becoming wrinkled, her cheekbones strained, and her skin was getting an unhealthy grayish hue.
"Even if she is alive," said Parnasida through her teeth, then exhaled, and her voice regained velvet tranquility, "no heir of Primus, purebred or mudblood, will ever be free. At least as long as I’m alive and I’m the rightful queen. No matter how you find out about the half-breed, you’ll never get her. Never!"
"An ill-advised statement in the dialogue between the mortal queen and the immortal mage," said Taurentius, however, without a hint of threat. 'My magic is powerless here, but Evangard has at his disposal an army capable of crushing your weak city and storming the castle in a matter of hours. Nevertheless, I can’t say I’d like that. War is always much, much worse than... cooperation."
"Start a war over a royal bastard? Drop this idea away. Rubbish. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here to talk. You are here to negotiate. So here you go." Queen of Embry concluded, and gave the guest a question-and-answer look, letting him know her full attention.
"Let’s stop throwing empty words. I crave essence," said the Queen.
Taurentius, however, laughed loudly at the intrigue he had created, quickly walked up the stairs and reached the top of the stairs, standing in front of the queen, towering above her. Parnasida took a few steps back, keeping her distance.
"As long as the daughter of King Primus lives, your right to the throne may be contested. By whom and when - it does not matter. The people of the impoverished capital will absolutely support Primus' daughter than the current queen, who has brought the city to such a dismal state. But you, too, for some reason, are in no hurry to deal with the heiress, although the rest of Primus' offspring were killed by you without remorse. A half-breed has some value for the queen, since she left her alive and hides her in secret."
"Why do you want Primus' bastard?" Parnasida was impatient.
"I want to take the girl and kill her. Don’t worry, the death of an heir will serve me well, and that sacrifice will probably be the most rewarding one we’ve ever seen. And my gratitude will be very generous."
Taurentius saw the Queen’s excitement, though she tried her best to appear calm.
"Parnasida. By giving me the half-breed, you will receive in return what your still mortal but cold and merciless heart desires. I will show you the real thing that your stupid sorcerers, the charlatans you somehow believe, have never found. I will lead you to what will fall into your hands like an incredible miracle. Eternal youth. And eternal life. You will be able to rule Embry forever. Or until the last Royal subjects dies."
The Queen’s eyes shone for a moment. The news like brought her a breath of fresh air after years of asphyxiation. The Queen’s breasts were heavily lifted and lowered, and the glance ran from side to side: the woman was making her decision.
"Why should I believe you?" she asked.
"I was waiting for that question," said Taurentius confidently. "I will not deceive you, Your Majesty. Moreover, in the name of your confidence, I am prepared to accept a half-breed as a gift after you have already received what you desire. There is no reason for me to lie now, because I could, as you pointed out earlier, if I wanted to storm the castle, but why make pointless sacrifices when, again, it is possible to avoid bloodshed and be helpful to each other."
"If you give me what you have just promised me, the half-breed will be yours. I give you Queen Embry’s word," said Parnasida with so much reverence and awe.
Taurentius lowered the volume of his voice almost to a whisper. Finally, at that moment, listening to the guest, Queen Parnasida seems to have found the main opportunity of her life, and distrust of the mage has finally disappeared. With delight and burning eyes, she absorbed every word of Taurentius. The decision was made definitively and irrevocably.
The conversation did not drag on. Fifteen minutes later, Taurentius marched out of the castle with a verbal agreement with the queen. Once outside the city gates and again turned into a black clot, Taurentius headed home to Evangard.
Parnasida went back to the chambers, skipping the next meeting of elders and royal advisers. A few minutes ago, the queen sent a servant away who helped her get rid of her painful corset and undo her golden hair. Neither a glass of fine red wine, which was Parnasida's favorite drink, nor the peace and quiet that surrounded the queen, could calm her heart now. The woman stood like a statue in front of a large mirror framed with a gold frame, displaying her in full growth, her eyes drilled into the reflection, as if trying to catch something skillfully hidden in the mirror, and the look of the queen clearly expressed anxiety and tension.
The news brought by Taurentius discouraged her, plunged her into an extremely nervous state, and then there was almost a month of hunger, from which her body gradually became decrepit, losing freshness and youth before her eyes. Taking off the tiara from her head, Parnasida shuddered: the edges of the tiara dragged behind them blond hairs that left her head forever. In desperation, the queen, gritting her teeth, as if holding back a cry, threw the jewelry aside and came even closer to the mirror surface.
With a leisurely movement of her hand, Parnasida threw off the remnants of her clothes, leaving body naked. She continued to glare at her reflection, but now there was a hint of contempt on her face. The queen was not even distracted by the loud footsteps approaching the doors of her quarters. There was a creak and two people appeared on the threshold.
A tall, stately young man in a black camisole held a young, still very young girl by the shoulder, looking around the royal room in fear and clearly not understanding why she was brought to the queen. Judging by the appearance of the girl, the audience with Parnasida was a complete surprise for her, including the fact that the queen herself turned to face the guests, appearing in front of them naked. A slightly sickly look, red, as if ready to burst into tears, eyes and a tense look made Parnasida look like a dangerous psychopath, ready to take an ax from behind her back in the most peaceful hour.
The queen, without saying a word, looked from the frightened girl to the guy, as if mentally asking him a question, to which he nodded and also remained silent. The girl saw what was happening, even murmured something, but no one listened to her lamentations. The nod of the tall guy, clearly regarded by the queen as an expected sign, launched a whole chain of events: Parnasida hurriedly approached the guests, freed the girl from the strong grip of male hands and approached her face, as if she was about ready to kiss this frightened little maiden, that completely numb from the essence of what was happening. Passing her slender fingers along the smooth young neck, Parnasida clearly marked the target and sank her teeth, easily piercing the skin of the victim. The girl screamed furiously, but her resistance was in vain, and after a few seconds she was completely exhausted. Her body became shriveled, shrunken, wrinkled, turning clearly into a kind of mummy. A little more - and Parnasida threw the withered body of the girl aside, like a rag doll, terrible and wrinkled.
Despite the horror of what was happening, in the eyes of the guy, who continued to stand on the threshold of the royal bedchamber, one could read delight and admiration: after Parnasida finished with the victim and wiped the remnants of blood from the edges of her plump pink lips, incredible metamorphoses began to occur to her: visible wrinkles disappeared, as if they were not there, the skin began to lighten, getting rid of age spots, breasts and buttocks tightened, taking on an elastic fresh look, and even the hair seems to have added a little volume, shining with health. And only now the queen finally exhaled and relaxed. A smile shone on her face. She returned to the mirror, this time admiring the reflection, looking at it as if it were the most appetizing dessert with fresh berries and cream.
"Should I leave?" The youth said softly, still not moving.
"No," the queen replied coldly, not taking her eyes off the reflection. "Come on, Tristan."
Tristan, of course, was only a servant of Parnasida, loyal and devoted, but he had some privileges that were carefully hidden, although they were not fraught with serious consequences if revealed. He had known the queen for a very long time and clearly knew what she expected from him. Catching a fleeting glance through the mirror, the guy quickly approached Parnasida, turned around to face her and dug a passionate kiss into her lips. The queen responded to her lover in return, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging the young ardent servant to her.
Excited by lust, Tristan became like a predatory beast that attacked the victim, sinking into every seductive curve of the now young body, running his fingers through silky golden hair, feeling the cold of velvety fair skin. Quickly and deftly freeing himself from his robes, Tristan threw Parnasida on the royal bed, roughly pressing her tender body to the white sheet: he certainly knew that such a passion was very to the taste of the queen. The penetration was rapid, and the pace increased so rapidly that it could make the process unsatisfactorily fast. However, Tristan knew his stuff very well, bringing new and new waves of hot and sweet languor to the queen.
One might think that this was an act of true love, but still the reality was a little different. Tristan had recently turned only nineteen years old, but he looked much older. In addition, the young man was extraordinarily handsome: it was one of those cases when nature has endowed its child generously and richly. For such beauty, many girls gave their hearts and souls without hesitation, and Tristan realized the power of his charm long time ago and used it mainly for selfish purposes.
However, Tristan's first choice was Queen Parnasida during the lifetime of her husband, King Primus Halliboure. After the death of the king, Tristan and Parnasida were no longer afraid of anything, and their meetings took place many times more often than before. Perhaps Tristan was in love with the queen, perhaps he simply liked the very idea of feelings for such a noble woman. At the age of nineteen, many find it difficult to sort out their thoughts and emotions. Parnasida, on the other hand, pursued a decidedly mercenary purpose with regard to this young man. And the act of love with such a beautiful young man was a pleasant addition for her, especially after the marriage bed, which the queen had to share with the decrepit and infirm Primus, who could be aroused more by a knight of the guard defeating a rebel than by her own wife. The youth of the slain girl gave Parnasida not only the freshness of the body, but also endurance. So insatiable in making love, as it seemed to Tristan, the queen had never been and she pretty exhausted the man, who, nevertheless, did not show signs of fatigue until the end of the act.
“I simply adore the young girls you bring from city,” the queen whispered enthusiastically, leaning back on her pillow in bliss. The woman looked truly happy and satisfied. Looking at the young man, Parnasida added with a seductive smile. “Look. It’s like I’m eighteen again! My skin is like velvet. And my strength overwhelms me!”
"You know, it's getting harder to find young girls in Embry. The capital is no longer what it was, say, five years ago. And people are not the same at all," Tristan said. He smiled back. From his forehead, overcoming wrinkles dripped small drops of sweat.
Parnasida touched and stroked the young man, laying her head on his shoulder. In a low, cold whisper, she said:
"But you are more than successful in your mission, my boy. The Five themselves sent you to me, gifted with divine beauty and unwavering devotion. Thanks to this body," the queen stopped her speech for a couple of seconds, running her finger over her lover's perfectly smooth chest, "young stupid girls become obedient dolls. Thanks to your beauty, you bring them to the queen. Then you reap the fruits of your efforts in one way or another."
Tristan closed his eyes in languor, enjoying the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, a pleasant shiver running down his back. He embraced Parnasida, pressing her to his broad chest, and kissed her on the head, burying his nose in a golden wall of hair, smelling of fresh strawberries.
"Today, one more responsible task awaits you, my boy," said Parnasida, caressing the young man. "This time it is much more important than hundreds of previous ones. It will take all your ingenuity. And courage."
"Want another young silly maiden? What will happen when there are no young girls left in Embry?" Tristan sighed. "People have been suspicious for a long time. And the people are impoverished more and more, the city is ruined. People can hardly cope with the royal tribute. Increasing uncertainty and fear. Few people even dare to think about offspring. The resource, as you know, is not infinite."
Parnasida half rose, leaning over Tristan and resting her head on her hand. From the look of the queen, the young man once again seemed to be stunned. In his opinion, Parnasida was so beautiful that it was impossible to get used to the magic of her charm. The queen shook her head.
"You are not only beautiful, but also smart, as I believe. You are thinking sensibly. But here is where you don't have to worry anymore. Today I made a verbal deal with Taurentius for now, who promised me something very useful."
"Taurentius was here?" surprised Tristan, raising his eyebrows. "The same Taurentius, the all-powerful magician, who turned the central lands of Abbaddon into a wasteland? The one who sowed war and confusion?"
"Yes, the one," nodded Parnasida, concluding the answer with an ironic laugh. "Of course, he’s some type, not one of those who can be trusted just like that. However, if he did not deceive me, soon you and I will not have to destroy young maidens. Something more reliable will replace the endless sacrifices."
"Shall he give you eternal youth?"
Tristan knew how long the queen had been looking for the source of endless youth, how much strength she had spent and how many lives she had taken, striving for this goal, but even the method found for now had only a temporary effect. Of course, it was hard to believe that someone would just share such a valuable resource like that. Tristan knew the Queen as a calculating woman, very cautious. The young man, by the way, was quite surprised that Parnasida so easily believed the words of the wizard, who had done such terrible things and hardly looked like someone to trust. Nevertheless, Parnasida nodded.
"Yes, eternal youth. Immortality. Can you imagine? Parnasida Florian, the first of her name, is the only and irreplaceable queen of the Embry lands. No one will dare to challenge my right to the throne when I have a young healthy body and a clear cold mind."
"And the one who dares will face the fate of Primus?" noticed Tristan and immediately pursed his lips.
"You are playing with fire, impudent boy," the queen grunted coquettishly, looking away in the direction of the mirror.
"You never wanted to be queen. You yourself have said many times that only immortality is the most important goal of your life," muttered Tristan. "So since when have you been interested in the throne? You could be beautiful and powerful without all the political rubbish. And do not say that you are suddenly interested in the fate of the inhabitants of the capital."
Parnasida frowned. Her gaze suddenly became gloomy, as if she suddenly thought about something deep and as if the words of a young lover touched her to the core. In those rare seconds, the queen looked like a simple, vulnerable woman.
"I can be a good queen," she snapped, determined. "I can save the capital. I will be able to win the love and respect of each of the most recent rabble. But only after my feeble decrepitude passes me. When my heart finally settles..."
"What will happen to me?"
Tristan was not embarrassed that a ringing silence hung after his question. This topic was periodically brought up when the lovers were alone, but each time the queen's answers were vague and full of blurry metaphors.
Parnasida remained silent, as if she had not heard the question addressed to her at all. She got out of bed, dressed in a light silk robe, and went to a three-legged wooden table, on which stood a glass, a bottle of wine and a tray with black grapes and gooseberries. Filling the glass with a blood-red beverage, the queen did not drink it, but returned to bed and handed the treat to Tristan.
"Try it," Parnasida suggested very good-naturedly, almost hiding her authoritative tone.
The youth obediently took the glass and took a small sip: wine is like wine, the man, as an amateur, did not find anything remarkable in this bouquet. Parnasida explained her gesture.
"This wine has been stored in the royal dungeons for almost five hundred years. A vessel with this nectar can be valued by such a mountain of gold that you cannot carry it all at once in your pockets. There were times when you thought you would be languishing in the slums of Embry and wasting your youth in pathetic attempts to achieve something in this life, and you could not imagine that you would be here, in the bed of your Queen and drink wine while lying in her bed. On these silk sheets. Interesting plot twist, isn't it?"
Tristan didn't say anything, just took another sip, but this time more greedily.
"There were times," the queen continued, "when Primus imagined himself to be a great ruler and a brilliant strategist and could not imagine that the enemies were hiding very close, and even more so that he would sink into the World of Shadows from a single drop of Cold Nectar. You ask what will happen when Taurentius brings me the long-awaited prize? Are you afraid that you will become unnecessary?"
Tristan frowned. Returning the glass to the queen, he also got up from the bed and began to pull on his shirt.
"You are a grown boy, and that time has passed when you could afford to ask such stupid questions," continued Parnasida, draining the glass. "A man is defined by his actions. And they also form his true role and purpose in the life of everyone with whom his fate crossed. Only fools can promise something to someone in this key. I value loyal servants and get rid of worthless ones. Such decisions are necessary when there is a goal. I am queen. Try not to forget it, my boy."
"So I'm just a servant, Your Majesty?" demonstratively grinning in irony, Tristan understood what the conversation was going to. Of course, the question was rhetorical, and the guy did not expect to hear anything in response.
The queen just chuckled, remaining unperturbed.
"By asking a direct question, you risk getting a direct answer. I said and sincerely believe that you are not a stupid person, Tristan. Don't make me doubt of this conclusion."
"Yes, I'm sorry," the young man breathed, realizing that he was in the wrong direction. "So what is the responsible task you mentioned? Yesterday, no less than three girls followed me around the tavern in Mouse Alley. I can bring the other two if need it."
"No, we have enough girls for now," Parnasida spread her hands, glancing at the shriveled corpse lying on the floor. "You must travel to the northwest of Embry, to the End of the Spider. You will find out that there an old woman named Estella lives, something like a local healer. Many people in the Spider's End area know her, so the search should be quick."
"What do you want from her? Judging by what I heard, this woman is far from youth and beauty."
Parnasida left the glass on the table and again approached Tristan, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and looked him straight in the eyes. She gently took his hands in her palms, squeezing them with thin, pale fingers.
"From now on, this woman is one of the key links in my plan. I want her alive and unharmed. Bring me this old woman of her good will. Promise her a royal reward, whatever. But make sure that she comes to the palace with a desire for cooperation. As I have assured you before, this is the most important task you have ever received or will receive from your queen."
"What if she still refuses?" Tristan frowned. "I have never been able to charm old women."
"Fear is a harbinger of fall and failure. You can everything. If I believe in you, then you could finally believe in yourself. You are performing a very important service, my dear. And I am a fair queen, I remember my faithful servants and never deprive them of honors. If you succeed, you will find my gratitude immeasurable. Give you a Queen's word."
The queen took a breath, paused for a few seconds and added firmly.
"Taurentius gave me this tip. Estella will give me immortality. So promised Taurentius. There are good reasons why I trust these promises. Just bring me the old woman. Here. To the castle. Nothing is more important to me now."
"Should I go right now?"
Tristan didn't want to leave at all. But he was obliged to obey the queen.
"Put on your coat. Pull on your boots. And go. And on the way you can drop by the cooks, they will feed you.''
Parnasida smiled ruefully.
"Hurry up. And I have to make it to the treasurer's meeting. Before the end of the month, it is necessary to calculate the shortage of gold and silver in the treasury and determine where to take funds in the future. Spending on royal guards is driving me crazy."
"There is nothing to collect from the beggars," dressing, said Tristan.
Parnasida did not answer. She walked over to the windows overlooking the bay, her gaze fixed on the blue distance. She was glad that the windows of the royal bedchamber overlooked the coast, and not the vastness of the dirty, disgusting capital. The Queen knew of the plight Embry was sinking into. Members of the royal assembly reported this to her almost every day. Probably, Parnasida really believed that she could change the life of ordinary people for the better, but the immortality worried her more now. The maid arrived at the royal chambers ten minutes after Tristan left, taking the desiccated corpse off the floor. A girl with a scarred face hurriedly began to help the queen dress and comb her hair.