"You must be the writer?" she asked, not hiding the fact that she was looking at every inch of my body, clothes.

"Yes. It's me," I replied.

These eyes were looking into my soul. And I tried to meditate. My attention followed my breathing. I only thought about how I inhale and then exhale. How hard it was. After all, I also had to speak.

And then she suddenly smiled and I felt better. Yet how much depends on the smile.

"I'm a fan of yours. I like every book you write. I like your thoughts. It's unusual and beautiful. Especially the way you write about love. You must love Sennhandd too much."

"Yes. You are right."

"Sennhandd told me a lot about you. In general, he always only talks about you. And you know, I even began to envy him. He has someone who makes his eyes burn with the fire of life," she said, moving her hands, as if she wanted to cast a spell. Only now I noticed that something else was hidden behind those wise but too kind eyes. And she was too fragile, just like a butterfly or a flower among the cactuses.

Not to think! The main thing was not to think! And to my surprise, I stopped my thoughts.

"Sit down. Why are you standing there? You shouldn't be afraid of me. I think Sennhandd told you about me?"

"Yes. He said a few words about you."

"Just a few words?"

"Yes."

"And what exactly did he tell you about me?" she asked, handing me a branch of grapes.

But I had absolutely no appetite, but in order to seem like a simple writer who seeks joy, I began to eat grapes.

The sweet juice made me calm down a bit.

"He told me that you are a good friend."

Lain laughed with a kind of smirk, as if she herself did not believe that she could be a good friend.

"Did he just say so?" she asked, confirming my assumption.

"Yes. But he says little to me about work and about those with whom he works. He knows that I can be jealous. And looking at your beauty, now I understand why he told me that you are just good friend," I replied.

"Sennhandd, what a wonderful person he is. As a colleague, he is very good. And does he treat you well too?"

I knew it was an interrogation, but I also needed to quietly interrogate her about where Higgdalf was and what was going on in general.

"He's a good man. He's just an Angel," I answered, and of course I was talking about Moonlight.

"Life is still beautiful. The great scientist, the creator of modern science and the great writer, the sculptor of heart and feelings, found each other. They found each other at a time when almost everyone had completely forgotten about love. It's a little strange. Don't you think so?"

To smile! I need to smile, whatever I feel!

And only now I noticed that we were sitting almost in the very center of this banquet hall and people around us were just having fun. Red tones were everywhere. And even the light was red here.

Sitting on a leather, too comfortable chair, I was still tense. And I don't know if she noticed it.

"In my books I often write about love. And yes, I am sad that everyone has forgotten about it. But on the other hand, it may be for the best. Still, love always brings suffering. And now, people have finally become free from suffering," I said, and these words seemed foreign to my thinking.

"You are a kind person, I can see that."

"Are you a kind person?" I suddenly asked.

She was visibly surprised by my question. And she replied, "I don't know. It's up to you. You are an expert on human hearts."

I looked towards the noisy young people who were laughing out loud.

“I think you are not the one who can have fun. I can see from your eyes that happiness is a rare guest for you,” Lain said, raising one eyebrow.

“Looking at you, I am more worried about whether you are happy. Because I want you to be happy,” I said and wondered how I got so much ability to say that.

Did I make her blush? Or did she play the role just to understand me?

But the main thing is not to think.

"You are not only a great writer. You are also a handsome man and besides, you have a beautiful soul. It’s not in vain, I spent so much time reading all your books."

"Which book do you think you liked the most and why?"

“The light of the Moon,” she replied quickly and with her response, I suddenly experienced impending fear.

But no, Sennhandd told me not to think.

"This is my favorite book too. Perhaps the best I've written."

As the music started playing even louder, Lain made a displeased look and when she looked at the people, I noticed that there was not a single drop of kindness and sincerity in this person.

No wonder everyone does whatever she says.

“Let's talk elsewhere,” she said in a slightly commanding tone.

I followed her, without a single thought in my head.

As I understand it, we ended up in some small room, where people usually wanted to feel like the kings of the whole world. More precisely, in the room where the Wizard was tied to a chair.

Thin chains, like snakes, held his hands chained to a golden chair. However, there were no wounds or scratches on him. And his face was fresh, though a little tired. But as he was told, he should have smiled without giving rest to the muscles of his face.

Lain, as if wanting to see my reaction, stopped in front of the Wizard and silently looked at me.

Now, I was surrounded by two smiles.

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