Граф Орлов
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Marey critically examined his figure in the mirror. It seems white doesn't suit him. Or maybe it does... He didn't understand anything about suits of this level, and the salesman, sensing Marey's uncertainty like a predator sensing the weakness of its prey, latched onto him with a death grip. The man hovered around Marey like a puppy, constantly adjusting his tie or lapels, even though everything was already perfectly in place, and he kept talking, talking...
-- Look, look, the silk trim... The shirt is also pure silk, can you feel it? It suits you extraordinarily well; you, young sir, don't just look like a dandy, you look like a true aristocrat, a nobleman in this suit, I assure you!
Marey looked at his face with doubt, which he had always considered the epitome of bourgeoisness. A capricious wrinkle of displeasure appeared on his forehead, and he clearly remembered that this was often seen on the faces of, for example, the Helswaard and de Lire nobles. And the salesman continued to tempt him:
-- And the tie pin and cufflinks – all in a set... This is a unique item; you won't find anything like it in any other store, but we have the last one... Of course, if it's not within your budget, we can go back to simpler options, but that's not the same, not at all... A young man, especially one from such a prestigious academy, shouldn't dress in drab clothes... I'll give you a discount, for a good person – why not?
"Oh, how annoying," the noise and bustle of the store were already starting to get on Marey's nerves, and the prospect of spending another half hour trying on clothes was not appealing at all. The mage glanced at Nara, who was standing a little to the side, and, receiving a rather vague look of approval in return, sighed wearily.
-- That's it, enough, stop it, -- Marey waved the salesman away, interrupting his verbal diarrhea -- I've decided, I'll take it.
He looked in the mirror one more time. No, it looks good, of course. And the money... A couple of thousand more or less – worrying about such things is the concern of ordinary people. But he – Marey smiled at the dandy looking back from the mirror – definitely doesn't belong to them.
Marey, now wearing his old black cloak again, went outside, holding the door open for his companion, and stopped on the porch. The mage sighed with relief – finally, he had escaped the confines of this chaos. Before his eyes was the picture of the evening city. Among the leisurely swirling snowflakes, human figures moved, intoxicated by the same pre-holiday anxiety as the visitors to "Beatrice." From a distance, they were much more pleasant – a natural detail of the urban landscape, nothing more. Ants underfoot.
-- Never does a person burden himself with the petty trivialities of life, never is he more hurried, tense, and anxious than in the pre-holiday days, which should be days of rest and peace. Tell me, is it customary in your homeland to attach such a sacred significance to the numbers on the calendar?
-- Look, look, the silk trim... The shirt is also pure silk, can you feel it? It suits you extraordinarily well; you, young sir, don't just look like a dandy, you look like a true aristocrat, a nobleman in this suit, I assure you!
Marey looked at his face with doubt, which he had always considered the epitome of bourgeoisness. A capricious wrinkle of displeasure appeared on his forehead, and he clearly remembered that this was often seen on the faces of, for example, the Helswaard and de Lire nobles. And the salesman continued to tempt him:
-- And the tie pin and cufflinks – all in a set... This is a unique item; you won't find anything like it in any other store, but we have the last one... Of course, if it's not within your budget, we can go back to simpler options, but that's not the same, not at all... A young man, especially one from such a prestigious academy, shouldn't dress in drab clothes... I'll give you a discount, for a good person – why not?
"Oh, how annoying," the noise and bustle of the store were already starting to get on Marey's nerves, and the prospect of spending another half hour trying on clothes was not appealing at all. The mage glanced at Nara, who was standing a little to the side, and, receiving a rather vague look of approval in return, sighed wearily.
-- That's it, enough, stop it, -- Marey waved the salesman away, interrupting his verbal diarrhea -- I've decided, I'll take it.
He looked in the mirror one more time. No, it looks good, of course. And the money... A couple of thousand more or less – worrying about such things is the concern of ordinary people. But he – Marey smiled at the dandy looking back from the mirror – definitely doesn't belong to them.
Marey, now wearing his old black cloak again, went outside, holding the door open for his companion, and stopped on the porch. The mage sighed with relief – finally, he had escaped the confines of this chaos. Before his eyes was the picture of the evening city. Among the leisurely swirling snowflakes, human figures moved, intoxicated by the same pre-holiday anxiety as the visitors to "Beatrice." From a distance, they were much more pleasant – a natural detail of the urban landscape, nothing more. Ants underfoot.
-- Never does a person burden himself with the petty trivialities of life, never is he more hurried, tense, and anxious than in the pre-holiday days, which should be days of rest and peace. Tell me, is it customary in your homeland to attach such a sacred significance to the numbers on the calendar?
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers