My dear demon. Evelyn and Alice Dale. Evelyn and Alice Dale

Current page: 2 (book has 6 pages total) [available reading passage: 2 pages]

* * *

The elderly Nana was, perhaps, the most devoted servant of the Byrtsoi. No troubles or tragedies that happened to the residents of the house could make her turn away from the members of this family. She began to work when she was still a very little girl of eleven years old, and faithfully and faithfully served Mr. Bujor’s mother until she died in old age after a serious illness. Nana grew up, worked hard and was later appointed head cook in the house, a position she has held to this day for three decades. Together with her owners, she experienced losses and misfortunes, but considered it her duty to stay here until the end of her days. Not because she did not see a different fate for herself, but because she had a kind and complacent heart and always felt sorry for both the owner and his first wife and son who died early.

But the cook, like many others, noticed various quirks in Bujor, which they liked to secretly gossip about in the city. And although Nana always tried to suppress such gossip among the peasants, anxiety lived in her heart. She witnessed how terribly Bujor suffered after the disaster that happened in his family. After all, since then there have been many more questions than answers. The owner spent almost all his time in the basements of the huge castle, and none of the servants had any idea what he could do there. Bujor did not leave the dungeons for days, and Nana often had to scold the arrogant servants, who joked that their master would die like this, but they would not know about it and would not even find him. But she did not wish Byrtsa harm. Not long ago, just a couple of years ago, an old man tried to get married again after being widowed many years ago. Maybe he was just looking for peace for his rebellious soul? But when the second wife disappeared completely three months after the wedding, Bujor’s unsociability and alienation from the world became even more obvious. But soon... He set himself a new goal - to get married again. And when this happened and his third, very young wife arrived at the house, Nana did not understand the goals that her owner was pursuing. But she didn’t dare to contradict or ask questions, in her heart she felt sorry for the unfortunate girl, who was not facing the happiest family life. Several days passed, and Nana had not yet seen Ilinka, so she was joyfully surprised when the doamna came into the kitchen herself. The cook, with a good-natured smile, bowed to the hostess, noting to herself that the old man this time exceeded all expectations - the girl was very young and very pretty:

- Good evening, Doamna. My name is Nana, I will be glad to serve you. What do you want? – the woman straightened up, wiping her wet palms on her apron after washing the dishes. – We have the best herbal tea, I brew excellent roots for colds. It’s such bad weather outside,” she shook her head, still smiling. “You just didn’t have enough illness.” I saw from afar how you came to us... Because of that thunderstorm, your dress was completely ruined.

But Ilinka, smiling politely in response to the friendly woman, shook her head negatively and sat down at the kitchen table. The cook again cast an interested glance at the girl and froze, awaiting orders. Having straightened the hem of her black satin dress, Ilinka straightened up, turning her gaze to Nana:

- No, thank you. I’m not hungry, although I can’t help but admit that the smell of freshly baked buns tempted me, and I decided to look into the kitchen,” this time the corners of her lips twitched in a smile.

- Oh, then you are just in time, I have some buns just out of the oven, try them, be sure to try them! - and when the cook began to fuss, pouring tea and serving pastries, Ilinka touched her tightly tightened corset, wondering if she would even be able to swallow even a bite. The reason for the lack of appetite, however, was not only the dress, but also those thoughts that were still noisily circling in her head. The girl had never been in the habit of asking anyone about anything, but this time it was difficult to resist:

– Nana... Don’t consider my question curiosity, but... How long have you been serving in this house?

The woman answered her question with a smile:

“I’ve been working here for as long as I can remember, and this is no less than almost...” the cook thought for a moment, and then clasped her hands, laughing at her own surprise. - Fifty years.

– How many housewives have you had during this time?

Nana grinned at the question, but it was obvious. The poor girl wanted to know at least something about the place and people where she ended up:

- Mr. Bujor was married twice before you, before. You've probably already heard about the tragic loss of his first wife and son. It was a heavy loss that our master could hardly cope with. They talk a lot about him in the city... - she stepped closer to the girl who was listening to her attentively, but did not dare to sit next to her. “But I could answer you this way: Domnul Bujor is not a bad person, and his temper is difficult only because he was poisoned by grief.” Today you... Had a conversation with him, right? Forgive me for my tactlessness... - the cook suddenly turned away, reproaching herself for such disrespect for her mistress.

“Yes, he just told me that you can’t take a single step in this house without an escort, and you’re only allowed to go outside its walls with a huge retinue...” Ilinka took a sip of tea and continued restrainedly. – The castle is very big and beautiful. You can probably really get lost here. I just didn’t expect that everything here is so... - she touched her lips, thinking. - So much...

- Strictly? – Nana smiled when she saw the girl’s confusion, and when she nodded, she continued. – Mr. Byrtsoy’s family has always been distinguished by royal restraint, and all these rules are intended for your safety, because after everything that happened with his second wife... This is a mandatory measure. But I’m babbling for some reason, you drink, maybe you’re hungry after all?

-What happened in this house? – Ilinka put down her cup and frowned. Is there anything forbidden in their conversations? But Nana quickly began to collect the dishes, and then Ilinka stopped her, covering her hand with her palm. The cook shuddered, and the girl did not take her black gaze off the face of the excited woman. Nana was not a gossip and was very careful about such conversations.

“You know, doamna... The castle has stood on this land for more than a century, and, as you can see, even the war didn’t touch it too much, thank God,” Nana smiled encouragingly at her, and Ilinka removed her hand from her hand. – Domnul Byrtsoy survived the death of his son, the death of his wife, the disappearance of his second wife... People love to gossip about him, but his zeal for absolute order is the desire to protect his family and his servants. Still, the house is old. There are often drafts here, and the walls in the basement have collapsed more than once, so it is not at all safe to walk there. The castle holds a lot of misfortunes. But you shouldn’t think about it, because who knows, maybe... - she raised a sad look to the girl’s face and turned to one of the cabinets, taking out the pumpkin that she intended to cook for dinner - you will be the one who can bring joy to this house and a smile.

- My dear Nana! – a voice heard from behind the women made them both turn around.

The cook’s face lit up with a joyful smile, and a second later the young man, who entered the kitchen, hugged her, quickly kissing her on both cheeks, causing her to burst into laughter:

– Yanko, how early are you today!

- I came in for a minute. It's going to rain outside, and I still have a lot of work to do on the horses that arrived today, another purchase for the old man, damn him.

- And we have an important guest in the kitchen, how did you not notice? – the cook clasped her hands, nodding at the doamna. The groom suddenly changed his face as soon as he turned to Ilinka, meeting her gaze:

“Oh... Forgive me, Doamna,” Yanko immediately bowed before her, and golden curls hid his face. The young man's blue eyes, straight nose and full lips made him handsome. He has served in the castle since childhood and for the last few years as a groom. Despite his young age, he was only twenty years old, Yanko looked like a strong and mature man, his athletic body looked like an ideal creation. The guy never shunned work and took on any work that was entrusted to him in addition to his duties in the master’s stables.

Yanko did not look at the young mistress, but allowed himself a fleeting glance:

“I hope I didn’t disturb the doamna too much with my appearance, because gentlemen rarely come into this part of the house.”

“No, everything is fine,” Ilinka rose to her feet, stopping opposite the young man. “I’m not yet very knowledgeable about the rules that reign in this house, but I think there’s nothing wrong with me coming here sometimes.” Over the past few days, I haven’t even had time to meet anyone, but there seem to be a lot of servants here. But apparently everyone here moves around the house in fear.

Ilinka fell silent, and the groom did not dare answer her. Nana shifted restlessly near the table for a few more seconds, when she finally decisively splashed warm water from a clay jug into a mug and, coughing, handed the drink to Yanko:

- So you know, doamna, every visit of yours here makes me very happy. I myself sometimes rarely go out, and I rarely chat with anyone. But Yanko tries to stop by more often,” and when the guy put his arm around her shoulders, the old woman raised her face, brightened by a smile, to look at him.

Having no children of her own, Nana took care of this young man from childhood. His mother died during childbirth, and his father died of consumption several years ago, when many people died during a terrible epidemic in Brasov. Despite the fact that Byrtsoy's castle was located far from the city, trouble overtook it too. From then on, Nana felt a tender maternal feeling for the young man. The groom secretly allowed himself to look at the doamna, noting how pretty she was. Another beauty in the clutches of an old man disfigured by time. Yanko never showed disrespect to his owner, but ever since he became addicted to young girls, he more than once thought about how unfair fate can sometimes be. What woman would want to devote her life to a man in his twilight years?

– Today new bays were delivered to the stable, one of which was brought for you, Doamna. If you wish, you can visit the horse on any fine day, and if necessary, I can easily teach you how to stay in the saddle.

“It just so happened,” Ilinka smiled barely, tilting her head slightly to the side, “that from an early age my father taught me horse riding.” But, unfortunately, my horse was sold by my mother several years ago,” a fleeting sadness flashed in the girl’s dark eyes as soon as she mentioned the difficult parting with what was the last memory of her father. Finding herself without the care of her beloved parent, Ilinka, despite her mother’s care, could not feel completely safe. Would the father allow their only daughter to be given as a wife to avoid poverty? How would you feel about the fact that she now has to live in captivity? While the mother, complaining about the tragic fate, unworthily rejoiced at the opportunity to pay off all her debts at the expense of her daughter’s life. Ilinka did not blame her. I really wanted to believe that this was all a simple mistake that could be corrected:

“Perhaps... I won’t distract you anymore,” she turned to Nana. “I’ll rest in my room while waiting for dinner.”

- Come on, Doamna, how can you interfere with us? You are free to call me at any time if you need me! – the cook exclaimed fussily. Nodding to her, Ilinka answered in agreement that if anything happened she would certainly contact her, and left the kitchen. She quickly walked along the corridor and paused for a moment near the massive door that led to the basements. And having no idea whether she had any reason to worry, Ilinka now trusted only her inner voice:

“I hope I won’t be the next one to get lost in all this hell.”

* * *

The weather in the last days of summer was not at all pleasant. This evening turned out to be cloudy again, with variable rain. Bianca hurriedly returned to the backyard of the castle to quickly remove the bed linen hanging on the ropes. Muttering under her breath that she always gets the least favorite job, the girl hastily put the still damp sheets into a wooden basin. But before returning back under the roof, it was necessary to bring more milk to Nana’s kitchen. Where would she get two extra pairs of hands to cope with everything?

Bianca has been serving Byrtsoy for the fifth year now and celebrated her recent nineteenth birthday here. The lively girl, who had never known sadness or sadness, began to think more and more that she would not want to spend the rest of her life in the service of Byrtsoy. The maid was an orphan and before she came to this castle, she suffered from hunger and poverty. Her parents died of typhus, and her previous owner simply kicked her out into the street, fearing that the slave would bring this infection into his house. Distressed and wandering, little Bianca fell into the hands of slave traders, from where she was bought by Mr. Byrtsoi’s attorneys into his service. It seemed that she had something to thank Domnul Buzhora for - for a roof over her head, hot food and a warm bed, if for some time now the last “good” had not had to be shared with him. She still remembered that first disgusting time when the old man forced her to have sex with him. This happened a couple of years ago, she was seventeen then.

Bianca was a noticeable girl, and, one might say, beautiful despite her difficult lot. Curly red hair framed her round, freckled face, and her snub nose and mischievous blue eyes completed the look. But the mischievous sparkle of fun in her eyes dimmed more and more, giving way to sadness. However, despite what had happened, the girl still had more determination and stubbornness to get rid of such a fate, no matter what mortal punishment it might entail. Maybe everything would have been completely sad if not for one happy circumstance that warmed her young heart - Bianca was in love. Her chosen one was Yanko, who captured her heart from the first meeting. In addition, he, like her, was determined to one day change his life and say goodbye to the hardships of the Byrtsov foundations. And the maid wanted with all her soul to share his hopes with him. They did not call themselves bride and groom, but about six months ago Yanko himself announced to her that someday they could get married. Bianca kept quiet about her connection with the owner. And how can you tell about this? It was scary to even think what would happen to their feelings if Yanko found out about this. She thought that when the time came for their first night, she would have to take sin on her soul and deceive him - and this would only be for their own good. And if the old man opposes their union, they... Will run away! Even to the ends of the world! And they will be happy there.

Inspired by hopes, the girl headed to the stable, wanting to see the object of her sighs. Slightly wet from the rain, Bianca ran under the roof, throwing a basin of laundry at the door, and began to creep up to Yanko with a smile. He stood with his back to her, naked to the waist, and did not notice the girl at work. She laughed out loud and, hugging her beloved, pressed her cheek to her back, damp from perspiration:

- Well hello! Why didn’t you ever come into the house to see me today? And don’t say that you had a lot to do, I saw that you didn’t harness the owner’s horses today...” Yanko turned around, fixing his blue eyes on her. His gaze always made the girl immediately dizzy. “Or did you... didn’t miss me?” – Pouting her lips offendedly, Bianca hoped to hear how much he could miss her.

Yanko shook his head with a smile, complaining about his lover’s capriciousness. But then, glancing briefly at the stable and the exit from it, the young man drew her to his chest. He was all hot from work, and the tart smell of horse sweat mixed with the musky aroma of his own:

- Yes, you yourself didn’t appear on the street today. Well, the new owner already demands complete order? – the groom leaned a little lower towards Bianca’s face. She looked at him with bated breath, and he exhaled against her lips. “And I already saw her,” his gaze for a moment became somehow distant. He spoke more quietly, “She’s young... Beautiful,” shaking his head, he abruptly let go of the girl, causing her to stagger. - Damn Byrtsoy. She won't see life with him.

Bianca, confused, took in her lover’s indignation, then pursed her offended pouting lips. But she doesn’t care how many of his wives Bujor is going to kill off the world, even if it’s all of them! A shadow of hostility flashed in her eyes - if only he would leave her alone. The girl again moved towards Yanko, placing her fingers in his hot palms:

“I haven’t seen the new doamna yet, but I don’t care what happens to her.” The previous mistress did not last even a few months, she ran away from the old man, wherever she looked. And in the city they generally say,” Bianca wrinkled her nose, bowing her head slightly, “that she completely drowned, like his first wife.”

“I noticed how the owner... How he stares at you too,” dark rage flashed in the young man’s bright eyes, “let him just allow himself... And if it weren’t for slavery, I swear, I wouldn’t be here a long time ago.” He’s creating devilry in his basements, and he’s also decided to acquire a harem,” Yanko clenched his jaw tightly with anger, and the nodules began to play on his tanned face. Bianca felt a poisonous needle of jealousy pierce her heart. Why did her dear one so ardently begin to defend not only her alone, but also all the unfortunate girls given into the power of the owner? Suddenly a mocking grin twitched on her lips. The girl quickly ran her fingers over the young man’s broad shoulders and clasped them behind his neck:

– Hmm... Only this time the owner was less lucky. He found the goods... - she smiled even wider and more cunningly - - damaged. The morning after he brought another little wife into the house, I was cleaning the bedroom and... - the girl looked meaningfully at her lover before turning away, as if embarrassed, - all the sheets were white and clean, like snow. The same obviously cannot be said about our new owner.

Yanko grimaced, making it clear that he did not want to hear such details:

- Oh, that's none of our business. And even if so... He deserved to get what he got. But I’m more concerned that you be careful, Bianca, and don’t come into his sight unnecessarily,” the groom gently touched her chin, forcing her to look at himself, and whispered, “I can always protect you.” But you know, the price for this may be too high,” Yanko’s lips briefly touched the girl’s lips with a light kiss, and then he immediately pulled away, returning to his work. He again began to soap the horse, which humbly stood nearby:

- It’s time for you to return to the house, Nana will look for you. But... – and still smiled at Bianca. - When it gets dark, come...

The girl was inspired by the offer, which it would be foolish to refuse. Giving her lover an enthusiastic look, she returned to the exit, picking up the basin with the laundry. Yanko... His name was like a flaming fire in the maid’s heart, like sunlight that eclipsed the darkness of her life. Continuing to praise the virtues of the groom, Bianca hurried to return to work. And the groom, left again alone with himself, did not soon finish washing the horse, being in thought. Having sent the horse to the stall, the young man went out into the yard to throw out dirty water on the cobblestones. The rain intensified, but Yanko was in no hurry to return under the roof. He stood under the cold drops, wanting the moisture to cool his raging thoughts. He threw his head back, exposing his face to the streams that flowed down his neck and chest. Smiling, Yanko shook his head, and his wet hair became unruly. He opened his eyes, glancing at the upper towers of the castle, and was about to go back to the stables to dry himself and change clothes, but suddenly froze, without moving. His gaze was focused on one of the balconies, on which he suddenly noticed Mrs. Ilinka.

She stood with her arms spread out along the railing, looking somewhere into the distance, and her hair was loose and flowed like black silk over her shoulders. For a few seconds, Yanko forgot how to breathe, involuntarily admiring the beauty of the new owner. She didn’t notice him right away, but still their gazes met. The groom lowered his head first and did not see how Ilinka stepped back into the bedroom, tightly closing the heavy curtains.

Chapter 2

She had a nightmare. It was long and continuous. The unfortunate woman could not wake up from the suffocating fear experienced in her sleep. She ran and ran along a long, narrow and endless corridor. And the walls seemed to be moving closer and closer, not allowing her to breathe. The girl could not cope with the growing attack of panic. She sought to find a way out of this deadly labyrinth as quickly as possible. However, her every attempt was in vain. Any fork that came along her path ended in a dead end. My heart was beating furiously, tearing through my chest with excruciating pain. And suddenly... She stopped, finding herself in another passage, tightly blocked with huge stones. And I heard... I heard some sound, it was unclear, but so frightening. The footsteps heard were heavy and measured - someone was following her. And she did not need to turn around into the terrifying darkness behind her to feel the approaching sounds. The closer they got, the more clearly she heard the clanging of heavy chains and the hoarse, ragged breathing of her pursuer. No! Just don’t turn around... Just don’t look at him. Run! We need to run! But there was a dead end ahead, and her death was still approaching. The girl closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember all the famous prayers, but the sounds kept growing... And closer... And...

Ilinka, exhaling heavily, opened her eyes and abruptly sat up on the wide bed. Her breathing was ragged and her heart rate was going wild. A sickening lump rose in her throat. It was cool in the bedroom because the window was wide open, but the girl’s skin, like her long hair scattered over her shoulders, was damp from perspiration. She reached for the glass of water that was on the bedside table, but she didn’t immediately manage to take it because her hands were shaking so much. She had had nightmares before... But this was the third dream in the last week in this house. After Ilinka’s first conversation with her husband, several days had already passed, which she spent in the confinement of her bedroom. Inaction weighed heavily on the girl and burst into her consciousness with echoes of nightly torment.

Having taken a couple of sips of cold water, Ilinka returned the glass to its place and leaned back on the bed. She involuntarily winced because both the pillow and the sheets were damp. My breathing still didn’t even out, and the coolness of the street didn’t bring freshness. The girl needed to get some air. She rose from the bed, throwing on a silk peignoir, and headed towards the balcony. But, without taking even a couple of steps, Ilinka froze and listened. It seemed as if a nightmare had confused dream and reality, when suddenly in reality she caught that same frightening quiet sound. He was like a ghostly hallucination. The rustling moved along the walls, born somewhere in the very depths of the castle. Ilinka did not move, paralyzed with fear.

Then, barely walking, she approached one of the walls adjacent to the corridor. The girl leaned her ear against the cold stonework. The renewed silence seemed to mock the fear that gripped her. What was it? She was already ready to not believe in the appearance of ghosts. A few seconds later the sounds were heard again, this time much more clearly. Ilinka was able to distinguish the clanging of chains and even muffled groans filled with pain, which made her tremble all over her body. What the hell is going on in this house? Fear gave way to anger, because inexplicable abominations came to mind that her newly-made husband could do in his “lair.” Grabbing a candlestick, the girl went out into the corridor, forgetting that it was better not to leave her rooms at night.

The dim flame of candles hanging in candelabras thickly covered with melted wax dissipated the twilight that reigned in the corridor. The terrible sounds died down again, but this did not make Ilinka return to the bedroom and fall into a deep sleep. “God knows what’s going on in this castle!” And since it so happened that she was now part of this satanic carnival, sooner or later she would find out about everything.

But with every step, the girl began to be overcome by doubts that maybe it was better not to know anything after all. When she reached the stairs at the back of the house that led to the forbidden dungeons, she paused, undecided. The flickering flame of the candle cast bizarre shadows on the walls that gave birth to the outlines of demons in the darkness. Ilinka took a step onto the stairs, when suddenly a silhouette appeared in the darkness. A scream escaped the girl's lips and she staggered back, grabbing the railing. She almost dropped the candle, but then suddenly raised her hand higher so that the light fell on the one who was in front of her. And when she was able to discern just a girl in front of her, it seemed like one of the servants, she breathed out more freely. The young housewife pressed her hand to her chest, where her heart was beating furiously:

- Lord... How you scared me.

“Sorry, doamna, I... I didn’t think I could meet someone like that at such a late hour,” Bianca muttered in fear and sat down in a slight bow. She looked down. - My name is Bianca, I serve in this castle.

Ilinka tried to calm down the fears that seemed senseless to her. However, she guessed that the inexplicable sounds, because of which she had to leave the bedroom, were clearly not made by this young maid. Smiling at her, the lady shook her head:

“Yes, I also didn’t imagine that insomnia in this house torments not only me,” and, already grinning, she added, “or is the forbidden fruit sweet?” Walk through the frightening corridors of the castle at night? Although... You clearly know him better than I do.

The girl fell silent, but still looked at Bianca, who, on the contrary, carefully looked away. The maid still managed to quietly glance at her mistress and felt a burning hostility arise in her heart. “And you are good, and you speak so smoothly, well-mannered... And you cannot say that you are dishonest.” But Bianca was not going to sympathize with the old owner. She burned with hatred for him. Her heart was beating loudly, and to herself she asked one thing - why? Why, despite the fact that Bujor had such a beautiful wife, did he still call her, Bianca, to his place that night? It will never end...

The maid was not afraid that Ilinka might find out to whose chambers her husband’s forced mistress was heading. She was obediently silent and hoped that the mistress would return to her bedroom without knowing anything. She suddenly stepped closer, and Bianca tensed, raising her blue eyes to her mistress’s pale face. Ilinka said quietly:

“Didn’t you... hear anything strange just now?” While you were walking down the corridor? Rustles, sounds... Voices?

Bianca didn't have time to answer because footsteps were heard at the bottom of the stairs. The silence, broken by someone's approach, was oppressive, like the whole atmosphere of this castle. And when Bujor himself came out of the darkness to the girls, very similar emotions were reflected on their faces - fear, bordering on disgust. There was also undisguised contempt hidden in Ilinka’s eyes. The old man looked tired. Dressed in his favorite shabby frock coat, he held a thin candle in his crooked fingers and looked at the girls with a surprised, suspicious look. His hoarse voice was loud enough to make both of them flinch.

-What the hell are you doing here?

Bianca did not answer, remaining motionless and lowering her gaze so as not to look at her disgusting owner. She barely managed to contain her trembling in his presence. Ilinka spoke first, and her tone was not benevolently polite:

- Good night to you too, my husband. I remember very well your order not to leave the bedroom after dark. And I would be glad to strictly observe it, but... - the girl squeezed the candle tighter, the wax of which was melting on her fingers, - an incomprehensible noise does not allow me to close my eyes in this... wonderful house.

Bujor grimaced. At the same time, his lips pursed so disgustingly that his whole face began to resemble an ugly wax mask. He focused his gaze filled with silent rage on his young wife, but turned to the maid:

“Bianca, go…” he muttered so that she would fully understand where he was telling her to follow, “to the bedroom.”

His business that night was completed, and he intended to relax in the company of a submissive slave. The girl was forced to carry out the order, and Bujor did not deign to look at her. He will still have time to properly punish this girl. His thoughts returned to his rebellious wife, who was awaiting Byrtsoy’s further reaction to his nightly walks. The man stepped towards her, and Ilinka raised her chin, looking at him with undisguised disgust:

- Well, will you allow me to return to the bedroom?

– How did you end up here? – Bujor did not answer, freezing half a step from his wife. She retreated, but Byrtsoy suddenly grabbed her hand, tightly squeezing her wrist, and forced her to look at him. “Didn’t I explain to you clearly enough the rules of behavior in my house, precious Doamna?”

– What kind of troubles can await me here? Maybe you will still tell me the secret? So that I know what to be afraid of? – Ilinka’s voice sounded evenly and confidently. The ability to control herself allowed her to control her growing fear. She felt the old man's unpleasant breath on her face. His fingers suddenly loosened their grip and began stroking, and Ilinka froze.

– Did I tell you that there are reasons to be afraid? I just love rules, I love order. We didn't get to talk anymore, but what if I wanted to know about my wife's wishes? After all, aren’t mine obvious to you? – Bujor’s palm slid over the girl’s tender hand. The old man trembled with the desire that gripped him at that moment. He looked as if spellbound at his wife, who was so delightful in the glow of a dim candle.

Undoubtedly, she was more beautiful than anyone who had ever pleased him. Moreover, Ilinka was not a rude servant; her beauty bewitched. How great was the temptation! The girl gasped, trying to pull away, when Bujor suddenly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her very close to him. Dry lips froze near the girl’s neck, and Ilinka felt dizzy from nausea:

“Who gave you permission to walk around the house like that, madam?” You have obviously completely forgotten who you are and to whom you are obliged to appear in this form. You are my wife. Or have you forgotten about it? I could remind... - but the girl almost did not hear his hoarse voice. The beating of the heart overshadowed all sensations. "Oh God, is he..."

“My dear, did you really think that your marital duties could be limited to a single conversation?” Oh no... Not at all... - Bujor spoke very quietly, even distantly. And absentmindedly putting the candle down, he pressed the girl closer to him. The old man slid his fingers along her waist, and Ilinka gasped, gritting her teeth at how disgusting these touches seemed to her. The curves of her body excited Byrtsoy’s mind and made him go crazy. The girl's fragility gave him a feeling of power; he would so much like to own her completely. His rough fingers froze on her hips, causing Ilinka to involuntarily twitch. She was already cursing the sounds that made her have to leave the bedroom:

Attention! This is an introductory fragment of the book.

If you liked the beginning of the book, then the full version can be purchased from our partner - the distributor of legal content, LitRes LLC.

My dear demon

Evelyn and Alice Dale

That evening in the city of Brasov, located in the central part of Romania, a thunderstorm broke out that had not happened for several years. The dark sky, covered with low black clouds, was cut by flashes of lightning. The thunder rumbled so frighteningly that even the yard dogs sought refuge from the elements under the stairs of pubs and the awnings of low-rise residential buildings. Nature was raging for hours, flooding the cobblestone streets with cold rain.

The rain didn't stop. People could only pray to God that the damage from the test sent to them would not be too great. And some superstitious old men and women even began to believe that the end of the world had come. But perhaps for some this evening was the embodiment of the most terrible misfortunes.

A small black carriage slowly moved through the raging elements towards the exit from the city. She got stuck in the mud and almost drowned in the muddy waters that washed away the rural roads. Judging by the coat of arms located on its doors, one could assume that it did not belong to a poor family. But the shabby lining and wheels, rickety from long service, indicated that the owner would have needed to take care of his vehicle long ago. But the owners did not have enough opportunities for this. The carriage belonged to the indigenous noble family of Prutyan, who, alas, had long been impoverished. In modern times, the family consisted of only mother and daughter. The latter was now inside the crew. Ilinka was chilly wrapped in a wet cloak, squeezing herself into the very corner in order to move at least a little away from the window. But it was still mercilessly drenched in cold rain. The entire hem of the white dress was pretty dirty, but that wasn’t what the girl was upset about. There was an expression of dull detachment in her dark, almost black eyes, and droplets of moisture glistened on her fluffy, arched eyelashes. It was not rain, but drying tears.

Her thin lips were pressed tightly together, as if she was trying to control herself. The girl was not the first beauty, but there was something in her appearance that, having seen her at least once, it was already difficult to forget Ilinka. Her long, raven-black hair contrasted with her white, alabaster skin, smooth as the finest silk. She was twenty-one years old. She grew up in a noble family, impoverished after the death of her father. Her mother, Anca Pruteanu, hoped that thanks to her daughter’s successful marriage, their family could regain its former prosperity. Anka's far-reaching plans have almost come true. This evening the fate of her Ilinka was decided, who was to become the wife of a man who could forever save their noble family from poverty.

The girl was not inspired by the fate prepared for her, but she could not contradict her mother. Although Ilinka was far from being a timid girl, but rather a decisive one, always having her own opinion, she did not dare to go against her mother, because the unfortunate Doamna Pruteanu so sacredly cherished the dream of resurrecting their family. Ilinka did not consider herself a sufferer, sacrificed to her mother’s hopes, but she had not yet realized everything that was happening to her. Ilinka grew up as a spoiled child, who could not refuse any whims, received a proper education, and all her toiletries were in the latest fashion. Everything changed with the death of his father, who died of consumption five years ago. Without proper management, his craft business of making beautiful handmade baguettes quickly went under. Mother and daughter were left barely making ends meet. A once-famous surname saved them from poverty, as did kind people who were ready to provide support to unfortunate women. But finally, something happened that allowed Domna Anka Prutyan to praise God for sending him hope of salvation.

The first groom wooed her precious daughter, and the excited mother chose him. The applicant was a rich and powerful man. Old enough to be Ilinka’s grandfather, Mr. Bujor Byrtsoi expressed his respect to the widow and his passionate desire to become the legal husband of the beautiful girl. Of course, all of Brasov knew about the tragedy of his family that happened many years ago. The owner of the big castle was said to have gone a little crazy. After the death of his wife and young son, Bujor, already a very unsociable and withdrawn person, became completely unsociable. When he handed over the management of all his affairs to attorneys and sold most of the land on the other side of the city, he stopped leaving the house completely. There were few servants left with him. There were various rumors... They began to be afraid of him, to avoid the property, because they heard that the aging Bujor was doing things there that were completely incomprehensible to the human mind.

And when one day he appeared on the threshold of Pruteanu’s house, Anka, completely at a loss, did not immediately recognize him. Haggard, with sunken cheeks and a pointed aquiline nose, deep-set, dull eyes looking from under his brows, Mr. Byrtsoy little resembled the all-powerful and imperious man he once was. He was over sixty years old. But since there was no less gold in his pockets, his mother’s will collapsed under the onslaught of stingy compliments that he had never seen Domnişoara more beautiful than her daughter. Anka's doubts were short-lived. She prayed to the Lord to forgive her quick decision, since it was for the good of their family. And, in the end, the mother received a vow that she would, like her daughter, be supported by the merciful Mr. Byrtsoi. He promised to generously cover all their debts, and Doamna Pruteanu agreed to his marriage with Ilinka. The wedding was not supposed to be magnificent, so that local townspeople would not gossip about the unequal marriage. Therefore, on this unfortunate bad weather evening, with tears in her eyes, the touched mother accompanied her child to the carriage, giving it to her future husband.

Dressed in her mother's satin wedding dress, Ilinka looked rather humble. But in her soul a storm raged no less than the one raging over the city and its environs. Being restrained and reasonable, the girl tried to find a reasonable explanation for everything. And if now the poor mother has chosen such a fate for her, then maybe she herself will be able to change it sooner or later? Many of her friends had long since tied the knot with unloved men, so for her it was not something blasphemous to marry not for love. Despite the fact that, having re-read dozens of romance novels about great feelings, she herself had never been in love.

Finally, the carriage stopped. But in the darkness of the approaching night and the prevailing bad weather, the girl did not see where she had arrived. The thought of being exposed to the cold rain again made her shiver. A few moments later, the door of her carriage swung open, and Mr. Byrtsoi’s coachman gave her his hand, helping her out. Pulling up her hood, Ilinka slipped out into the street. The girl quickly ran along the narrow path leading to the church, washed out by the rain, and froze on the threshold. The doors were slightly open, and a cozy warmth and the smell of melted wax and incense wafted from inside. She went inside. Everyone in the area knew the Church of St. Gabriel, but the local decoration had already become dilapidated from old age. Now the sacraments of marriage or baptism were rarely performed in it. Often funeral services for the dead were held here, but the girl was not one of those who was afraid of superstitions or afraid of curses. Ilinka always believed that you should be afraid of the living, only they can cause true pain.

The girl shuddered, distracted from her thoughts, when her future husband stepped out from the darkness. Taking a fleeting glance at his face, the bride felt a sticky shiver of horror run down her spine. “Will he become my husband? Oh God...” Bujor extended his withered, sinewy palm to her and quietly said in a hoarse voice, more like the sepulchral breathing of those who set off from the walls of this church on their last journey to the cemetery:

- Good evening. I'm glad you didn't keep me waiting long. Leave your raincoat, it's soaked to the skin. And let's go... Quickly.

The groom turned out to be a man of few words. The girl threw her cloak over the coachman's arms, leaving her in her wedding dress, ruined by the rain. Ilinka followed her future husband to the altar. The decoration of the place that was to witness the union of their destinies left much to be desired. But the girl was not a happy bride to remember this moment forever. The voice of the priest, pronouncing marriage vows and blessing vows, sounded dull and sleepy, echoing echoing from the dilapidated walls of the old church. Ilinka’s heart beat furiously, saying goodbye to her old life with every beat.

And after a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity, Bujor touched her trembling lips with a marriage kiss, which reminded her of a farewell touch to a dead man. The girl sighed quietly, trying to control herself and not cry. There was still the whole night ahead, and maybe the whole life, which she would have to mourn tirelessly.

Less than half an hour later, the Byrtsoevs' carriage rolled towards the family castle, accompanied by an endless thunderstorm.

Three days have passed since the wedding of Bujor and Ilinka, and they have become a real eternity for the girl. The newly made husband never spoke to Ilinka during all this time, and the wedding night did not come. The girl waited for her with apprehension until dawn, without closing her eyes, but Bujor never came - neither on the first night nor on the subsequent ones. Ilinka herself was not eager to give herself to her elderly husband, although she believed that she could not avoid this sooner or later. In the books that the girl once read, the action that took place between the spouses on the first night after the wedding seemed to her like a kind of sacred sacrament. But her husband was not the man of her dreams, so Ilinka did not dream of belonging to him. Finding herself in someone else's huge house, albeit filled with dozens of servants, the young wife only occasionally left her bedroom. The castle where she now became the mistress was ancient, majestic and gloomy. Dangerous... There were massive forged bars on each window, making it clear that they were not designed to protect from uninvited guests, but to prevent the inhabitants from leaving its territory. The façade of the castle, covered with ivy, was a stack of featureless gray stones overgrown with moss. It was easy to get lost in the long and deaf corridors, among the countless doors behind which were empty rooms. The two wings of the castle were connected by a large hall with a fireplace, which the owner ordered to be lit very rarely, and therefore there was always a cold air inside the house. The girl spent too little time in her new home to get used to it. At the right time, she appeared in the dining room, and in the evenings she took a hot bath in the company of silent maids who cast sidelong glances at the new mistress.

Ilinka was not tearful, did not faint, and did not theatrically wring her hands in the hope of salvation. She did not shed bitter tears at night about her unhappy fate, because she was not ready to spend years in captivity when the world around her was so unknown. And, despite the role that her mother chose for her this time, the girl believed that she still had her whole life ahead of her to have time to change the scenery.

The new day seemed to have no end. Even at dawn, Bujor settled down in his office and immersed himself in reading ancient tomes, which he had in abundance. It was the twentieth hour of the day, but for the old man it didn’t matter whether the sun disappeared behind the horizon or, perhaps, had already risen again. Byrtsoy was not interested in the passage of time; he treated it rather dismissively - after all, what is a moment? Just a grain of sand in a vast desert, the end of which did not exist anywhere.

The old man exhaled tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in an attempt to concentrate on the letters that were already floating before his eyes. How much time did he spend on this book today? Bujor leaned back in his chair, relaxedly throwing his head back, and closed his eyes.

Fatigue spread through the body like a treacherous poison. But over the past fifteen years, the man had learned to control both his mind and his body, and cursed the devil who tempted him to rest. Throughout his long life, the old man perfectly managed to understand the only important truth - only a fool is idle, resigned to the fact that one day his mortal body will be thrown into a cold grave, and at the funeral a couple of notorious hypocrites will shed a stingy tear, complaining about such a great loss in their lives. Bujor's thin, wrinkled lips curved into a crooked smile, making his already old face look even uglier. How many funerals had he attended, how many sufferers had he seen? How many people did you believe in the sincerity? At sixty-five years old, Bujor Byrtsoi had three marriages behind him, the last of which he entered into just a few days ago. Once broken by the death of his son, and later by the death of his first wife, Bujor was unable to cope with the heavy loss and locked himself in his huge castle for many years, losing any connection with the world around him. It was then that he learned the price of human sincerity. The few servants tirelessly discussed among themselves the madness of their master - some themselves tried to escape from service, but, like dishonest slaves, they were caught and punished anyway. Many peasants were inspired by the coming independence, succumbing to the unrest that was happening in the country after the Russian-Turkish war had just ended. The slaves suddenly believed in their right to freedom of body and soul and even tried to fight for it, but their actions were never crowned with success. The most faithful servants of Byrtsoy had to continue their work in the same place and go through the most terrible times with the owner. But were they truly devoted to him? Over and over again, the servants who ground the old man’s bones prayed to God in the hope that soon all their troubles would end and the sun would shine over their home again. And it doesn’t matter what would lead to such a successful outcome. Even if it were the death of their owner, they would rejoice at the justice of the Lord, and then, like the most devout peasants in all of Brasov, they would light a candle for his repose. But the years passed... And the clouds occasionally parted over Byrtsoy’s house, dooming to a joyless fate all those who once firmly believed that they would outlive the damned old man. And all because he himself clearly knew that none of them would ever have the chance to see his death. Never.

Bujor winced with displeasure when the knock on the door echoed in his aching head like a deafening battle. The man straightened up, looking towards the doors as they creaked open. He had been waiting for this moment - the time had finally come to allow his wife to get to know the one who gave her shelter, wealth and status. After all, from now on, her life was given to the old man in the face of God and his witnesses. Bujor did not own her soul, but would like to own her body, but he just couldn’t afford it yet, because her innocence was too valuable for him. The time has not yet come.

- You wanted to see me, dammit? – Ilinka stepped onto the old parquet floor and, with her husband’s approval, entered the room.

She looked indifferently into Byrtsoy’s eyes before glancing at the decoration of the office, involuntarily noting its contradictory luxury and unattractiveness. However, from the first day of her stay here, the whole castle seemed unpleasant to the girl, to match its owner. Bujor nodded briefly to the girl who entered, silently rose from the table, and slowly stepped towards:

– Finally, we managed to meet. My work takes up most of my free time,” he smiled coldly at her from the corners of his lips. The girl continued to stand motionless, watching warily as the old man came closer and closer to her. She caught his searching gaze, answering him rather indifferently. But he was her husband... This just didn’t fit in Ilinka’s head, when it was unpleasant for her to even look at this elderly man:

“I would like to clarify something,” Byrtsoy interrupted her, raising his voice slightly. Ilinka fell silent, looking at Bujor with some surprise. – This concerns the rules of behavior in my house. After all, this is why I called you here. Now you, as my wife, are obliged to strictly follow my recommendations in order to eliminate unpleasant situations that may occur as a result of your misunderstanding. How do you like your bedroom? Comfortable?

“Quite,” Ilinka suppressed a grin, trying to hide the confusion into which the man plunged her, “but...

“In this house, I speak first, and then I will listen carefully to everything you want to say, my precious wife,” the old man put his hands behind his back and froze a step away from her, looking like a predator who had snatched for once worthy loot.

His threadbare frock coat, completely moth-eaten in places, smelled of burnt wax, tobacco and smoldering fabric. Is this what old age smells like? But given his financial condition, why not pamper himself with at least expensive clothes? Ilinka had already managed to understand during these empty and dull days spent in her husband’s house that he was not one of those who spent gold to satisfy his whims. Ilinka swallowed, feeling her heart beat faster, echoing anxiety throughout her body. Her excitement did not escape Bujor, and after a pause, taking in the girl’s rapid breathing with satisfaction, he continued:

– From now on, my home is your home, Ilinka, and I really hope that in the future you will feel all the charm of this place. The castle has five floors...

Bujor finally stepped away from her, returning to his desk, and the girl breathed more freely. The old man again settled down in the chair and began to fill his pipe with tobacco, and his wife winced with the desire to quickly end this meeting. And Byrtsoy was already again contemplating the spines of thick volumes of numerous books. He began turning over the pages with thin, ugly fingers, the skin of which was dry and cracked. The owner focused his attention on one chapter, the one that contained the meaning of his whole life. “Ilinka is nearby... The same one who was born on a sacred day...” Bujor abruptly slammed the book shut, turning his face to his wife, who suddenly decided to approach his table. He woke up, as if waking up from a dream, completely forgetting what he had said before. His gaze shifted, and his voice became quieter and hoarse when, taking a drag from his pipe, the old man again began mournful speeches:

– Opposite your bedroom is mine. Next to it are the guest rooms, then, as you may have already noticed, my office, where no one is allowed to enter without my permission. All the books you see here cannot be touched, but at your disposal is a magnificent library that I once collected. Great works, the most suitable reading for you is the first door from the stairs at the entrance. On those days when I need to be away, my steward, Mark, plays the role of master in the castle. If there are problems, he will help you. At other times, you can completely count on me. Please be kind enough to report to me personally about all departures from the territory, and if the matter is urgent, well... - he sighed with feigned regret, drawing attention to the hopelessness of such a situation - you will have to wait.

Listening intently to him, Ilinka involuntarily shrugged her shoulders because every word her husband said sounded like the speeches of a priest who continued to mourn her broken youth. However, Bujor was clearly not interested in how his wife would perceive the announced rules, because all that was required of her was their strict observance.

“And immediately after dinner you will have to go to your bedroom, where you will remain until I call you.” In addition, leaving the room at night is not allowed.

“I heard everything you said, but I dare to suggest that...” the girl even humbly lowered her gaze, but her voice sounded clear and calm, “my mother was a little mistaken in choosing my wedding dress.” A slave’s outfit would suit me better now,” the old man sharply looked up at her, dumbfounded, but Ilinka did not look at him. “Are you my husband or my warden?” I will respect your rules, but am I a prisoner in your castle, which is completely different from a place I could call home? I beg your pardon...” she stepped back when the old man suddenly stood up, offended by his wife’s behavior. Her dark gaze locked with his furious one. A fool would not have understood what this impudent girl was hinting at, hiding her sharp tongue behind a feigned mask of humility. The man’s nostrils flared widely, and his gaze, perhaps for the first time during the conversation, reflected at least some emotion. Bujor looked like a kite:

“For your insolence, I can allow myself to deprive you of more than what we just talked about,” he hissed, looking threateningly into the face of the one who dared to offend him with her disobedience, “but you will soon understand that in my house you know better.” less, go to bed earlier, and sleep better.

– I didn’t even think of contradicting you, but...

“On the ground floor there is a kitchen and servants’ quarters...” and he interrupted her again. Byrtsoy continued to talk very calmly and carelessly, as if there was no rage in him a second ago. Ilinka felt a wave of indignation give way to contempt arising somewhere in her very heart. - And the attic and basement are not the place for a housewife like you. I hope we understand each other? Mark will constantly monitor compliance with the rules, but rest assured, all this is for your safety. You can go.

Bujor turned away from the girl when she bowed for a second and, no longer deigning to glance at her husband, headed towards the door. She could hardly contain her trembling from the hostility she felt next to this man. Ilinka went out into the corridor, closed the door tightly behind her and, holding her breath, tried to wait for her heart to beat in a normal rhythm again. This was their first conversation. The first of a thousand? Or maybe even the first and only. The girl still did not undertake to judge the degree of Bujor Byrtsoy’s madness, but she firmly understood only one thing - any feeling of fear of him would always be overshadowed by the most ardent and sincere disgust.

* * *

– Nana... Don’t consider my question curiosity, but... How long have you been serving in this house?

The woman answered her question with a smile:

– How many housewives have you had during this time?

Nana grinned at the question, but it was obvious. The poor girl wanted to know at least something about the place and people where she ended up:

Absent

Ostrovsky Alexander Nikolaevich (1823 – 1886) is a Russian playwright, whose work laid the foundations for the national repertoire of the Russian theater. The plays of A. N. Ostrovsky capture the color of Russian life in all its diversity of characters and destinies. The disc presents two of the most significant works in the work of...

Euripides Dramaturgy Absent

“Alceste” is a tragedy by the great ancient Greek playwright Euripides (480 - 406 BC).*** Queen Alceste agrees to go to the Kingdom of the Dead instead of her husband. Her sacrifice is admired by the god Apollo himself, who enters into battle with the Demon of Death to restore her life... Other works...

William Shakespeare Dramaturgy

Shakespeare's most famous tragedy about love. There is a long-standing feud between the noble Verona families of Montague and Capulet. However, their children did not fall victim to hatred and bloodthirstiness. Young Romeo Montague falls in love with the beautiful Juliet Capulet, and their feeling, like a fragile flower, opens up...

Tirso Molina Dramaturgy MTF Agency Drama Library

“Here is the Segovia Bridge in front of us, And there, behind it, is Madrid. It's time to forget Valladolid With its green gardens, And Espolon, and the streets, The galleys on the blue Esgeva, Which carries away in its rapids All the scum of the city and the dirt. Her caring waters sleeplessly keep clean: So the inquisitorial court From...

Ekaterina Bronnikova Dramaturgy MTF Agency Drama Library

The main characters of the play, Lida and Albina, are sitting in a half-empty apartment and talking. It turns out that Albina stole Lida’s husband and now she feels bad about it. To somehow make amends, the girl called Lida a stripper, who soon appears. Dancing gradually flows into conversations about...

Judy Curtin Children's prose My friend Alice

Holidays in France - what could be cooler? Especially if you're traveling with your best friend who only knows a few words of French (“cake” and “castle”). True, it is possible that you will definitely need one of them to charm the stunning Frenchman. Neither Megan nor Alice suspected that...

Alice Munro Contemporary foreign literature ABC Premium

Alice Munro has long been called the world's best author of short stories, but her books are only coming to Russian readers now, after the writer received the Nobel Prize in Literature. In the thirteen stories in Munro’s collection “I’ve Long Wanted to Tell You,” the events of today are often connected...

Grigory Gorin Dramaturgy MTF Agency Drama Library

The title contains the names of two characters in the famous play “The Forest” by Ostrovsky. The play intertwines theater and reality, the acted and the real, in the most absurd way. Two actors, a tragedian and a comedian, are either themselves or turn into one of their images. There is a lot of absurdity in the play. By the way...

Judy Curtin Children's prose My friend Alice

Megan hoped that she would have a great time at summer camp with her best friend Alice, but she was terribly mistaken. Alice not only came up with a desperate plan to escape from the camp, but also became friends with Hazel - a troublemaker and impudent person, ready to do anything to separate her friends. Megan remarks that she doesn't recognize...

Grigory Gorin Dramaturgy MTF Agency Drama Library

The central figure in this play is Edmund Kean. A legendary actor, a participant in many scandals, he more than once became a hero both in literature and in cinema. Grigory Gorin offers his own, as always ironic, view of the great actor. Keen in a play is theater embodied in one person...

Ulyana Gitsareva Dramaturgy MTF Agency Drama Library

Based on four real-life criminal cases, this play provides a glimpse into the context of crime in the province. The characters are not bandits and are often quite typical. If we have not met them, we can easily imagine them. And their motivations are extremely simple and understandable. Here is a war-torn af...

My dear demon

Evelyn and Alice Dale

Editor Elena Sergeevna Dremova

ISBN 978-5-4483-4112-0

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero

My dear demon

Evelyn and Alice Dale

Cover designer Alisa Evgenievna Grigorieva

ISBN 978-5-4483-4112-0

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero

The girl was not inspired by the fate prepared for her, but she could not contradict her mother. Although Ilinka was far from being a timid girl, but rather a decisive one, always having her own opinion, she did not dare to go against her mother, because the unfortunate daughter of Pruteanu so sacredly cherished the dream of resurrecting their family. Ilinka did not consider herself a sufferer, sacrificed to her mother’s hopes, but she had not yet realized everything that was happening to her. Ilinka grew up as a spoiled child, who could not refuse any whims, received a proper education, and all her toiletries were in the latest fashion. Everything changed with the death of his father, who died of consumption five years ago. Without proper management, his craft business of making beautiful handmade baguettes quickly went under. Mother and daughter were left barely making ends meet. A once-famous surname saved them from poverty, as did kind people who were ready to provide support to unfortunate women. But finally, something happened that allowed Domna Anka Prutyan to praise God for sending him hope of salvation.

- Good evening. I'm glad you didn't keep me waiting long. Leave your raincoat, it's soaked to the skin. And let's go... Quickly.

My dear demon. Evelyn and Alice Dale. Evelyn and Alice Dale - My Dear Demon My Dear Demon

* * *

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Articles on the topic