When she walks past the kitchen, she accidentally catches a scrap of conversation.- Have you ever heard of a vault robbed near the Forcasions? The guards were killed, almost all the potatoes were taken away. And okay, they took their own to burn them.
- Oh, too much of mine, soon the snow will go down - what will they plant now? They barely survived this winter, too - they will go to the next one to bow themselves, remember my word.
She will remember this winter for the rest of her life. The roads are covered with snow so that the estate was cut off from the big world. And already meager portions of food have to be halved. Fuel reserves are running low, and she orders to dismantle some of the outbuildings for firewood. Gem Lord arrives by flyer, bringing canned food. Carelessly puts the boxes at the door, as something insignificant, not worth mentioning. After his departure, she looks at the even rows of cans for a long time, feeling how strange and painful something shrinks inside. Then he shakes his head, tears off the bright labels with unfamiliar inscriptions and carries the cans into the pantry.
* * *
At night, she wakes up thirsty. Her head is on fire, her lips are so dry that it hurts to touch them. She gets up and goes to the kitchen. She notices two silhouettes fused into one by the far wall, hears the sounds of hurried kisses and slams the door on the joint. A frightened scream, a white spot of apron flashes, and the fractional stomping of two pairs of shoes with peas falls apart on the stairs of the back door. She passes to the sink, pours water for herself - and for some time stands blindly looking into the empty square of the window, behind which the pre-dawn sky barely begins to gray.
The hands of a gem lord hug her by the shoulders. They stand together at a wide window in the living room, and watch as the snow falls asleep in the garden. Sometimes she thinks that he can watch the snowflake dance for hours on end.
- Where I come from, there is no snow.
She stretches out her hand and touches him for the first time on her own initiative. Gem Lord suddenly smiles, and becomes impossible to look like a human being.
Of course, she does not say it aloud.
* * *
- I heard there were guerrillas out there camping somewhere. Maybe some punishers will be sent here...
- And I was told they were going to poison the water here to smoke guerrillas in our Verinda...
- I think the tsetas are just getting out of here, they've broken their teeth about us. And so they do not want to leave anything valuable behind.
She slowly covers her eyes, there is a bridge over Verinda in front of her eyes, the only one tens of miles around, which is ten minutes away from home.
- You have to leave here. As soon as possible.
Silver eyes look tenaciously and closely, suppressing any objections in advance. There are dozens of questions in her head, but she only nods and goes to collect things. Gem Lord watches her silently, then comes up, and in one movement makes her throw her head back, kisses her lips briefly. She cannot stand it - she stretches towards him, hugging him back. None of them say a word.
When a small squad leaves the estate gate, she realizes with ruthless clarity that it is over. In place of the soul there is a void with torn silver edges.
The back is last burnt by a piercing, inhuman look, but it never lets itself look back.