Tursed my worid upside down

Egor was still in the arms of sleep when he heard Klaus's displeased voice, who was lying in bed, talking on the phone.

"No, and tomorrow too. I don't think I can do it for three days for sure." Silence, Egor heard a displeased female voice, but he couldn't make out the words. "I don't care. Deal with it yourself." Someone again, most likely Klara, was trying to convey something to Klaus. "Anyway, I warned you. I can't work in this state. Oh, and Egor isn't working these days either." The voice rose to a scream, where Egor clearly heard the words "imagined" and "control" "That's great. See you in three days," and he hung up, not listening to the rest of the speech on the other end of the line.

"Good morning. Did you take a day off?" Egor said hoarsely, reluctantly opening his eyes.

"Yes. Until we deal with the last possessed one, you will not leave my side," with these words he stood up abruptly and left the room, and Egor tried to come to his senses for a few more minutes after a surprisingly deep sleep that had not visited him for several weeks.

After breakfast, Klaus sat down at his laptop and studied something there diligently. Pouoka was marinating meat to bake according to the prince's favorite recipe. She often argued with him and expressed dissatisfaction with his "still royal manners," but Egor saw how attached she had become to him. She muttered something under her breath, but still tried to cook what the young man liked, washed, ironed and folded his clothes, and often changed the bed linen. She did not do any of this for Egor, but he was not offended. Well, maybe only a little.

The kitchen was in a state of disarray and was used without any particular conveniences. They started the renovation anyway, although Yegor thought it was an unnecessary waste of money, especially after he found out (or guessed) how hard Klaus had to work to earn that money.

Klaus told Klara that Egor was sick, but the young man was not entirely sure that his boss had approved of his three-day absence, and so he decided to call her, having locked himself in the bathroom.

"Good morning.... Um.... Klara?"

"Yes, Egor. Did you want something?" a hoarse voice was heard in the receiver. Apparently, the young man had woken her up.

Klara had an irregular schedule. Sometimes Yegor was surprised when this woman had time to sleep and get herself in perfect order. She could spend the whole day in the office and stay there even after closing, and sometimes she would disappear to the second floor and then return to the bar. Yes, she had assistants who monitored everything in her absence, but she preferred to control everything herself.

"Sorry if I woke you up," the young man continued uncertainly. "I wanted to clarify about the unplanned weekend."

"I know that you both fell ill in a strange way. And you know what, tell your brother that no matter how irreplaceable he is, my patience also has its limits! I hope that in three days you will both be filled with energy and will start working with unprecedented zeal. Anything else?"

"No, I just wanted to clarify," and she hung up. The mere mention of Klaus had driven her crazy, but she still gave them time off, knowing that they were both healthy.

"The main thing is that I am not in danger of being fired," Egor thought and with a satisfied smile left his shelter.

The workers arrived at eleven o'clock and the apartment was so noisy that Pouoka decided to go for a walk (although she wasn't particularly fond of walking). Klaus and Egor didn't want to sit at home either and were happy when Andrey's assistant sent them a message.

"Great, at least some progress!" Klaus noted, pulling on a clean T-shirt.

"But there's still no progress with the girl."

"At least we'll have an idea of ​​where to start looking for the one who controls the people. It wouldn't hurt to go to the stadium area and talk to the guards. Maybe we'll be able to find out something about the man who attacked you."

"I seriously doubt they'll help. Do you think they'll tell everyone they meet?"

"A security guard is, for the most part, a boring job. Something interesting rarely happens, and knowing people, they always want to share stories where their life and personality look more attractive."

"Since when did you also become a psychologist?"

"I'm just observant," the prince shrugged. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

They went to Andrey's office by taxi. Lately, Klaus had been increasingly using comfortable means of existence. He ordered groceries, clothes, books and everything he needed to be delivered to his home. When the renovation began in the kitchen, he ordered food from a restaurant, even coffee. And now, instead of riding a couple of metro stations and a few bus stops, he called a taxi.

"Listen, don't you think that you've been throwing money around lately?" Egor asked him when they drove away from the house.

"Don't forget that for the last ten years I lived in a castle, where slaves did all the work for me, even washed and dressed me. It's hard to get rid of such a habit," he smiled.

"But you somehow managed before," the fair-haired one noted.

"It was a forced measure. Now I have the opportunity to at least partially return to my usual life and I can't miss it. I'll be back home soon. If I continue to exist as a lowborn," he shook his head. "You don't know what kind of people the highborn are. They will immediately notice the changes, and this will bring shame on the royal family. I can't let my father down."

Something in Klaus's gaze changed, and Egor decided not to continue the conversation. He really had a vague idea about the prince's homeland. From the scant stories he had heard, he knew only general information, which he did not like at all. Now, looking at Klaus's thoughtful face, he thought that the prince was also not thrilled with his old life, but he had a duty. At least, Klaus himself thought so.

Today, no one met them. The doors to both offices where the young people had been before were closed. Klaus tried to call again, but no one picked up.

"Damn, what the hell!" he got angry.

"And is it possible for high-born people to swear?" Egor tried to defuse the situation with an unsuccessful joke.

"You can't even imagine what they are like when they don't have to keep up appearances, like in brothels or in the corners where they lose money to the middle-class. But that's not the point now. Where the hell is that impudent man!"

"I hope you're not talking about me," a voice was heard and a short man in an odd outfit appeared from around the corner of the stairs.

"Hello. We came to pick up something, but apparently they forgot about our meeting" Egor tried to explain.

"No. I brought the information you need. The boss left on urgent business and asked me to give it to you personally." He approached the young men and handed over a weighty yellow paper folder "here is everything I managed to dig up about your waiter and the girl."

Klaus took the envelope, pulled out several sheets at random, and made sure that the girl in the photo was indeed the same. Egor was surprised at how different she was from the one who approached them on the street and left a brand on him. But he had no doubt – it was definitely her.

"There is one more thing, and it is very urgent. Can you take care of it immediately?"

"Boy, I am carrying out the boss's orders. I am not your personal bloodhound."

"I will pay the entire amount at once and add on top for the urgency. Let's say twenty percent."

"Fifty and I will personally bring you the papers in a couple of days."

"Forty and you will bring me everything tomorrow."

"And you are an impudent guy. I will not take on less than fifty."

"Okay, but the papers should already be on my desk by tomorrow afternoon."

"Take your time. I don't know yet what I need to look for. It might be impossible to do it in such a short time."

"I'm sure you can handle it. Yesterday, a black man with a tranquilizer dart in his neck was supposed to be found in the parking lot near the main stadium. I want to know who he's been in contact with in the last few days and what's wrong with him now. And also the address where he lives and works."

"I think that's enough information. Money in advance."

Klaus took out his wallet, counted out a few bills and handed them to the bloodhound.

"This isn't the whole amount."

"You'll get your extra pay for urgency as soon as you hand me the envelope," said Klaus, taking out a few more bills and showing them to the man, as if to prove that he had them.

The bloodhound put the money in the pocket of his wide trousers. A moment's hesitation. A sigh.

"You know, you're good at persuasion. With such a gift, in a couple of years you'll be able to open such an office," he made a circular motion with his hand.

"Until tomorrow," answered Klaus and walked past the man, heading for the exit.

***

Menami sat by her bedroom window with a glass of red wine and admired the stars. She loved the stars so much. They always reminded her of her family, of the frequent parties her mother hosted, of the rare trips her father took her on around the country. She remembered her carefree life as a young girl many, many years ago and the day when everything changed.

The woman touched her forehead, where a bluish star was in the very center. All that was left of her family. All that reminded her of happy times. All that caused her pain every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror. At these moments, she returned decades ago and again found herself in that carriage, from which she watched with eyes full of horror the terrible picture of what was left after the execution of everyone she loved and to whom she longed to return, to share good news. She went home, anticipating how she would strut with pride, how her older sister would look at her with envy. How her mother would burst into tears of happiness, and her father would begin to talk about all the privileges that Astrik's family would now receive thanks to her. But disappointment awaited the girl. Pain. Fear. Despair.

There she was met by the royal soldiers. She was sure that these were her last minutes of life, but the girl remained alive. She was transferred to another carriage. All the slaves who accompanied Minami home were killed before her eyes. She was being taken away from her home. From the place where she spent the best years of her life. From a place that no longer existed, like the entire Astrik clan. She squeezed the crystal goblet so tightly that it gave way. Dark, aromatic liquid flowed down her hand, spilling onto the floor, staining her beautiful blue dress. She looked down at her hand. A thick stream of blood mixed with wine and slowly ran along the curve of her palm, gathered into a small drop and fell down. Minami threw the remains of the glass out the window.

"Hey, I need help," she said calmly, not taking her eyes off the starry sky, but when the door opened, the woman sighed and turned her gaze to a very young slave in a gray robe.

"Mistress, did you call me?"

"Take care of this," the woman extended her bloody and sticky from wine hand.

The slave quickly approached, examined the wound, bowed and slipped out the door for just a few minutes to take a basin of warm water, bandages and healing ointments. The girl quickly and deftly treated the cuts, applied a thick layer of ointment, and bandaged them. As soon as the slave finished with the wound, her mistress stood up and spread her arms to the sides so that the girl could quickly untie the corset and take off the ruined dress. It was already beyond saving.

"Do you want to get ready for bed?" the girl asked, knowing that her mistress could sit by the window half the night or go for a walk.

"Today, yes."

The girl took out a fresh nightgown, changed Minami's clothes, and loosened her black, long, smooth hair, untouched by gray, although the woman was already over fifty. She carefully combed each strand, letting the soft, silky waterfall flow through her fingers.

"Enough," the mistress stopped her, and the girl immediately stopped, and began the rest of the preparations.

"I made the bed. Any other requests?"

"Clean up here," she pointed to the puddle by the window and the remains of broken crystal. "Bring some fragrant bags. I don't want to smell the wine while I sleep, and tell that old witch that her supply of potions is running low. She must hurry with a new batch."

The woman lay down on the bed, closed her brown, almost black eyes and, to the quiet, barely audible sounds of the slave cleaning, sank into another restless sleep.

The slave went out the door and sighed heavily. She did not like going into the witch's rooms. The girl was afraid of her. She had seen many times how very young girls and boys from the nearby stimulant factory were brought to this old woman, but she had never seen them return from there. The girl was sometimes glad that she did not have any magical abilities, because the witch was only interested in those who possessed the gift.

Every month the old woman gave her mistress small bottles, the contents of which the girl could only guess. Most likely, it was because of them that Minami, at fifty-three years old, looked no older than twenty. The girl returned to her mistress's bedroom, quickly and quietly laid out the fragrant bags all over the room and went to the basement of the estate, where the witch with a tattoo of a snake outlined in three circles lived and carried out her terrible experiments.

***

"Want to grab a bite?" Klaus asked as soon as they left the nondescript courtyard for the busy road.

"Come on. There are a few snack bars near the metro. Maybe we can walk?"

And they went. Slowly, because they both knew that it was better not to return home before eight in the evening. Dust, noise and curious workers always finished at eight, and then the long-awaited silence came to the apartment.

"Listen, how do ordinary people live in your country?"

"You mean the lowborn? I don't know," Klaus shrugged. "I've never been to villages, or even to cities, except for Anatodom, and those who are lower in status than the middleborn, and slaves of course, don't live there."

"And you've never been interested?"

"Yes, but I didn't try to find out. You see, the highborn never stoop to even the thought of free slaves. Or future slaves. That's what the lowborn are usually called. If I asked anything about them, I would bring shame on the royal family."

"I thought that if you have a high status in society, you can afford everything."

"It's not like that. The higher your status, the more restrictions bind you. You have to live up to expectations. You have to behave accordingly. Think accordingly. Act accordingly. You know, I even envied the slaves sometimes. They essentially had more freedom than any master. The more circles they have, the more opportunities they have. For them, status is a blessing."

"And you still want to go back there?" Egor was surprised.

"It's my duty. I have to go back."

Egor did not pursue this topic any further. Klaus made it clear that he did not want to talk any more, but the young man noted to himself that the prince had not confirmed that he wanted to return. Some kind of inspiring feeling arose in Egor. Just for a second. He did not even have time to understand what exactly caused this feeling, as it evaporated

They went into the first cafe they came across. It turned out to be an establishment that did not have any specific cuisine. They offered pizza, sushi, steaks, burgers, salads and seafood. Klaus ordered two steaks at once, a meat salad and a burger with a triple cutlet and an abundance of several types of cheese. Egor limited himself to pasta with seafood, soup and pie.

Egor was always amazed by the prince's ability to eat so much and still stay in great shape. He didn't go to the gym, didn't go for a run, and he didn't even want to take an extra walk, but as soon as an ill-wisher appeared, he always dealt with him perfectly. He was even able to run several kilometers with Egor on his shoulder! How did he do it?

"I trained a lot before, I hadn't lost all my shape yet, but you're right, I should resume training. When I get home, such carelessness could cost me my life," the prince responded to his surprised remark.

Egor enjoyed spending time with Klaus more and more. He had changed since their first meeting. He stopped treating him like a servant and more and more like a friend. The only thing that upset Pouoka's grandson about their time together was the prince's mention that he would soon return home. Egor was saddened by the fact that Klaus did not even consider the possibility of staying here. Living with him and Pouoka. Living like a normal person, but Egor never brought it up. He was afraid to hear the answer. He was afraid that he had imagined that Klaus enjoyed his company. He was afraid that the prince would laugh in his face and say something like: "A lowborn like you will never be a friend of the heir to the throne" or "Do you seriously think that you are worthy of my friendship?" and the worst of all: "I used you just like an ordinary slave. Now I don't need you anymore."

When they had eaten and ordered coffee, Klaus finally opened the yellow envelope and took out the papers. Egor moved to the sofa next to him and both young men, pressed almost closely, began studying the information.

"And he really knows his business," said the prince, and Egor heard a bit of respect in his voice, which in his memory happened very rarely.

Egor had only heard his kind of praise for Pouoka: "This old woman is still good for something" or "Old woman, you were just made to cook meat. I would even take you on as a personal chef and reward you with two circles." A couple of times he "praised Klara: "Not everyone is destined to become such a bitch" or "she works like a mule. If she hasn't kicked the bucket after so many years of owning a bar, it means she really has abilities that even I can't boast about." And now Egor heard this slight tone in Klaus's voice in his statement about the third person. Not counting his half-brother, who died. But Egor didn't take him into account. He talked about him with both a smile and sincere admiration.

Egor had never been praised before. More precisely, Klaus said, "Well done, at least you're of some use" or "Well, at least you're of some use here," but there was no hint of respect in his intonation, and the young man really wanted to hear it.

"Look. There are several people here that he met with two days in a row, but I don't recognize their names or faces." Egor noted, pointing his finger at the document.

"I also only saw those who work in the bar and a couple of regular guests from this list. Or maybe it's one of the guests?"

"Then the attacks would happen more often."

"Not necessarily. This someone could have deliberately chosen people from different places so as not to arouse suspicion."

"Then we'll definitely never find him," Egor sighed.

"Let's wait until tomorrow with this case, and for now we'll deal with the girl. It says here that she's a model and now works in a clothing store. It's not far from the hospital. Let's go?"

"Yes, she doesn't have many worthwhile offers," Egor noted, running his eyes over the short list of projects she had participated in over the past year.

"And she's not particularly selective," Klaus pointed to the promotional campaign of a pharmacy chain and the opening of a new second-hand store.

Forty minutes later, the young people were standing near an unsightly little store that was lost in a row of similar ones. Yegor decided to take this concern upon himself and while Klaus was looking around and looking for something known only to him, the fair-haired guy went inside and immediately headed to the checkout.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for Svetlana. She should participate in a photo shoot of your store."

"A photo shoot?" a round-cheeked, but at the same time hideously thin girl was surprised.

"Yes. Could you invite her?"

"But we don't have any photo shoots in our store."

"Very strange. I remember exactly that Sveta gave me this address. Can you check with someone?"

"Wait a minute," she said, looking at the young man with suspicion, and went off somewhere, and returned with another woman.

"Young man, I'm the store administrator, how can I help you?"

Egor repeated the same story and heard the same surprise in the woman's voice. Svetlana was definitely not there. He said goodbye, apologized and left the store depressed. Again, he was no use.

"She's not here," he said disappointedly as soon as he approached Klaus, who was slowly smoking, lost in thought.

"I thought so."

"Then why did we come here?"

"I only realized it when I saw the store. For the shoot, it had to be either closed, or they had set it up in the studio."

"Damn, why didn't you say so right away! I looked like a fool there!"

"Relax, it's good for you to talk to someone other than your grandma sometimes."

"I have friends, he whispered resentfully."

"Come on! How long have I been here? I've never seen you talk to anyone other than work."

"Because of you, I don't have time for that!"

In fact, Egor had acquaintances, but they could not be called friends. He studied by correspondence, did not like parties and alcohol, which was an integral part of the lives of all his former classmates. The young man did not consider himself a recluse and felt comfortable among people, but to be friends with someone? He never felt lonely, never needed anyone except his grandmother and parents. But he loved them.

"Okay, okay, calm down. I can't boast of an abundance of friends either. Neither in this world nor in the next" with a bit of sadness in his voice and with his fake smile on his face, Klaus said. "I have already called a taxi. Let's go to this girl's home."

"Her name is Sveta."

- What difference does it make? Do you have the stimulator with you?

- It's always with me now.

They arrived at the address that Andrey's detective had found for them. It turned out to be a new high-rise building with a parking lot, a fenced-in playground, a separate area for walking dogs, a barrier at the entrance and a disgruntled concierge at the entrance, who said that the owner was not at home.

"So we'll wait," said Klaus.

"And if she decides not to go home today?"

"So we'll wait until tomorrow."

Egor just sighed and sat down next to the prince on a bench on the playground. There weren't many people here, despite the excellent weather. Several mothers with strollers were animatedly discussing something while their babies were sleeping soundly. One old woman with three grandchildren, who ran up to her in turn, begging for candy or a drink, and a couple more mothers with children.

They sat for several hours. People came and went. Egor got bored. He had already played all possible games on his phone, read the news. He was fed up with everything.

"How long are we going to sit here?" he asked, unable to bear it.

"As long as it takes," Klaus answered serenely, sitting half-turned and staring at the entrance to the yard.

They sat in this yard until the evening, ordered food twice, Egor walked around the area several times, managed to completely drain his phone and borrowed Klaus's mobile, which also almost drained. It was already quite dark outside. Egor was amazed at the prince's endurance, who during all these long hours did not even go to the toilet (Egor ran to the nearest fast food cafe to relieve himself). And then, when the fair-haired guy once again began to persuade Klaus to go home, a car drove into the yard, from which a pretty girl in light blue high shorts and a white top came out into the parking lot, throwing an oversized jacket over her shoulders.

"Well, finally," the prince said calmly, getting up from his observation point. "Let's go."

"Wait, what are we going to tell her? We can't just go up to her and ask her to stand still for a couple of minutes while we pump the magic out of her!"

"Improvise."

"Me? Maybe you should do it? You have a better chance of holding her back."

"You don't need physical strength in this matter, and you, as I recall, wanted to be useful? Here's your chance."

Egor sighed, feverishly trying to think of something to do, but the girl was already heading towards her entrance.

"Wait!" he shouted in panic, and Svetlana turned around in fear at the scream.

Klaus remained where he was, and Egor quickly walked, almost running, towards the puzzled girl.

"You were talking to me?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I tried to catch you at work, but I didn't know which studio you were filming at. Can you spare me a few minutes?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, and I don't have any time at all."

"Please, just a few minutes" Egor almost begged, but he couldn't think of what to say next. The girl looked at him expectantly, and he stood there like a pillar, thinking feverishly.

"So?" ​​Sveta said impatiently.

"The thing is... The thing is, I'm your fan! And I wanted to meet you in person!"

"I've had enough," she turned around.

Egor took out the ball in a panic and reached for the girl, grabbing her wrist so that the stimulator was between his palm and the girl's skin. She tried to shake off the young man's hand, but he squeezed her palm as tightly as possible.

"Are you completely crazy? Let go! I'm going to call the police now!"

"I don't want to hurt you. I found you at the bar and called an ambulance!" Egor blurted out, not knowing why, hoping to hold the girl until the bluish light he was watching through his fingers stopped and the magic from Sveta flowed into the stimulator.

"Ah! I get it! What do you want? Money for silence? Help? Sleep with me?"

"No! No, of course not. I wasn't going to blackmail you! I just wanted to get to know you and that's all."

The girl's patience was running out. She was breathing heavily and, to Egor's great surprise, the next second she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Help! They're robbing me!"

The concierge ran out of the entrance with a phone to her ear, a security guard came out from somewhere and headed towards the screaming woman, holding the radio to his face. Egor looked in panic at the light still coming from the ball, at the approaching security guard, at the screaming Sveta. At that moment, he could only think of one thing: "Klaus, help me out!" To his shame, when the security guard was already a few meters away from them, he screamed.

"Klaus, please!!!"

What exactly did he ask Klaus for? How could he help now? But Yegor was sure he could. Klaus would definitely figure out how to get out of this situation. Now the guard is already grabbing Egor's hand, trying to tear him away from Sveta, who is still screaming hysterically. Now he is already taking out the stun gun, because Egor is not letting go of his victim. The young man closes his eyes, preparing for the shock. He hears the sound, but feels no pain.

Egor opens his eyes and sees only the broad back of his protector. A few seconds later, the guard falls to the ground. Svetlana falls silent and appears next to him. Egor sits down under the weight of the falling girl. The ball stops glowing.

"What a noise you made," - Klaus says, turning to face him. "Did you drain the magic from her?"

"Yes... yes... And how are you? God, what happened to your hand!"

On the back of Klaus's hand there are six identical red oblong dots.

"Shocker" he answered simply.

"Does it hurt?" he reached for the prince's hand, but he put it in his pocket.

"Everything is fine. Let's go. They will wake up soon."

Egor put the pearl-white ball in his pocket and followed Klaus, lowering his head. He was useless again, and the prince suffered because of him. He was ashamed, but at the same time happy that Klaus was there again. They were silent the whole way, while they walked away from Svetlana's house to call a taxi. Egor did not know what to say, and Klaus was immersed in some of his own thoughts, occasionally bringing his injured hand closer to his eyes.