Sophia Roldugina. Key to all doors.

Loneliness can't last too long. A year, two years, and then you either get used to it or go quietly mad. It's an axiom. I never got used to it.

Of course, at first the insanity was inconspicuous, easy. It started with little things. Dispersion, detachment, indifference to details... Big deal put on different stockings. No one can see under the dress anyway. And it is not necessary to comb every day, because there is no one to evaluate the effort. Talk to yourself aloud ... And why not? Who will judge? It was even convenient to spit on everybody, to feel nothing but pain, which had already become deaf and habitual ... So it continued until one day I looked in the mirror and was terrified.

Oh, of course, I tried to fight the coming madness. I clung to every outburst of emotion, like drowning in straw. If she laughed, she laughed to the point of colic, chest cramps and cramped lips. If she was angry, she screamed down to her throat, to the colorful spots in her eyes, stomping her feet and piercing the crystal. If she cried...

Well, no, it's not. What wasn't there then was tears.

I had new rituals. Now, at least two hours a day was devoted to cosmetic procedures. I braided my hair in a hundred fine pigtails not because I liked it, but because it was time-consuming and didn't require any help from anyone else. The paint on my face was deliberately bright. Today black lips, tomorrow white eyelashes, and a week later to draw a golden and scarlet ink feather on the temple, curtain the other half of the face unevenly cut strands.

After a while, I began to notice the looks. They range from the judgmental and sympathetic to the jealous and admiring. But no one could turn away indifferently.

I was jubilant. Not alone! And then one day, a squeamish, "crazy woman" flew into my back like a spit. And for some reason it filled me with pride and anger. Well, if you want to see an obsessed woman, you're welcome. Get it, with a seal and a monogram of the royal house. I decorated my pigtails with bells and burned the hated skirts. My favorite clothes were breeches and stockings to the knees now deliberately different. White blouses with magnificent collars, waistcoats, multicolored belts and neck scarves well, now I'm not confused with a decent townwoman. For a couple of more years the society was mercifully tolerated reckless pranks and cruel jokes, and then I just stopped being invited into the world. No, no one was blaming me openly the Key Keeper, after all! - but lean faces, but cautious whispers... I stopped leaving the estate.

A year later, a paper decorated with the same seals and monograms came from the royal palace. I was invited to court and was awarded the title of jester.

So I became one of the cards in the layout of the House of Stones and Dreams.

- Madam! Madam, wake up, please. Her Majesty insists on your presence during the conversation with the ambassadors of the House of Rakovin and Peska.

The tone is begging, cautious, a little admiring. Sometimes there are patronizing overtones. What would the lady do without the help of this... this... khm.

By the way, get acquainted. Nice Avantyurin, my student, I'm afraid. At least nominally. In fact, there is a nanny, commandant and servant in one person.

- And the lady insists on a quiet sleep at least until noon, Milo I responded poisonously, without opening my eyes.

- It's time for the sunset," the boy remarked sarcastically, opening the curtains. Even through my eyelids, I felt the alo-golden heat of the sun.

The day ends - life begins. In the palace it is so.

- And when are the ambassadors expected to arrive?

- In an hour, Mrs. Opal.

- What?! Couldn't you have woken the mistress before, lazy?

I was planted on the bed. The blanket flew away like a fur. A heavy pillow filled with aromatic herbs crashed into the wall above the student's head. By, alas... I'm getting old.

Cutely calmly leaned over, picking up the "deadly shell".

- Will the lady stand up?

- Will do, will do.

- Shall I serve breakfast in the bedroom or office?

- No breakfast, Milo, I smiled as I went up and stretched. - Remember, the pranks will be angrier and more sarcastic when the jester is hungry and hasn't slept well

- I'll remember, ma'am, the pupil nodded seriously, throwing a flannel blanket over my shoulders. I gratefully punched the boy in the light whirlwinds (I had to get up on the chicks to do so) and, yawning, went to the swimming pool.

The hot, steamy, opaque, dark blue water smelled like lilies of the valley. What you need to get over it. I sat down on the bottom of the pool, pulling my knees to my chin, and tilted my head to the edge. The heavy carved key on the necklace didn't want to get warm and flared a piece of ice to the heated skin.