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«It was nice to look at the world through her eyes,» the black burnt hand with excessively elongated fingers habitually not visible to everyone else lay on the naked shoulder of Rhianon and gently squeezed. «He can make you see the world in the same grim tones. And he is already angry with you.»
Leprechaun hid himself in the shadow of the glass. Rhianon tried to pretend not to notice the black creature that leaned toward her ear as everyone else does, but here it was, clawed fingers charred to the color of coal rubbing her long sapphire earring and seemingly capable of leaving a black indelible mark on her skin. But he touched neither her neck nor her cheek, though his claws slid close to hers. That’s right, they were probably forbidden to touch Dennitsa’s face, or rather his perfect replica, now. Funny, contrary to all their expectations, instead of burning it, Madael set a guard around it, as if it were not a replica of his face, but a rare work of art. He loves his twin, though he should have hated it.
«Would you like me to help you regain his favor…»
And those words again. It’s as if they had sounded before, meaningless and hypocritical.
«You don’t have it, I do,» Rhianon said.
For a moment it seemed as if the black claws wanted to claw at her shoulder with rage, and they couldn’t. Asmodeus gave up and stood gracefully behind the back of her chair, but at some distance. His silhouette in the darkness few could make out, but he noticed Rhianon’s gaze sliding over the conspirators. She moved her eyes from one face to the other.
«They are doomed!»
The voice was no longer in her mind; it was Asmodeus who spoke.
«You don’t have to punish them yourself,» he explained. – So abstain from judgment and executioner, or fire, whichever you choose. Their punishment will come to them.»
«Is it destiny?» She inquired with a touch of sarcasm.
«It is in my face, my dear,» he echoed. She seemed for a moment to hear his dry, rustling laughter behind her.
«Why is it yours? Since when have you been on the side of mercy?»
He was silent for a second. She didn’t even think she’d get an answer.
«I only come for the price,» Asmodeus said at last. «It is as death with a scythe comes to take someone’s life.»
Rhianon grimaced, remembering the gray angel. She wondered why he had come to Loretta? Whose lives did he want to take in this city? Hermione, Angus, Darius, Clotter, Roderick, Hildegard… She moved her eyes from one face to the next, and saw no sign of joyful superiority in them. They all seemed to be mortified about something.
«They made a pact with the Devil, not you,» Rhianon reminded her, though it was probably unnecessary. He ought to know. «You’re not his reaper, taking the souls he’s been promised, are you?»
«I’m just his servant.» The black silhouette leaned over her shoulder again. It reeked of soot and ash and a pervasive sense of wonderfully dark emptiness. «But that was only for the time being.»
Rhianon didn’t even have time to call out to him before he disappeared. Once again she was alone with the revelers and the conspirators among them. There was no longer any sign of the supernatural in the hall, except for the leprechaun who had come out of hiding. He didn’t look happy. Rhianon could understand his tiny thoughts, though his head was no bigger than a pea, and his thoughts were open to her. He regretted very much that the queen was left alone at court as in an enemy camp. She has no right even to touch the condemned. And by the time the devil had carried out his own sentence, those scoundrels might have finished off his mistress.
«Well, I’ll have to defend myself as best I can,» Rianon decided to herself. «And wait for the fatal hour.»
Apparently, the conspirators themselves were already waiting. Rhianon did not know what their deadline was, but she could see that it was coming to an end. They knew it, they were afraid.
«You are doomed!» She said it out loud, and though the word was spoken in a whisper, Darius, who was sitting beside her, heard it and shuddered with all his body. What a hunted look he gave Rianon, and she smiled, insidiously and triumphantly. It was her turn to celebrate. And then she put the goblet to her lips…
