AstralLein
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If Camistella had known about Mr. Goods’ safe, she would have questioned her status as a wealthy woman. What kind of wealthy woman is she if, historically, her budget has only once barely reached one-fifth of the savings of the happy owner of the most powerful wife in all of Asuguh? And 0 + 50% is still 0. Oh, and where do rems come from in this world...
The next morning, Camistella woke up in an inappropriate state, sprawled out on a wooden horse. The voices in her head, after a boisterous night, apparently decided not to bother the lady, and therefore the Lunarian’s mind was surprisingly clear.
“Kill the mutant, burn the heretic, a life full of good deeds and exploits for the space sailor...” Camistella quietly sang, not knowing why. It seems this is something from a poem that made its way to Anush from the outside.
After reciting a few more lines of this work, Camistella barely got off the horse and approached the mirror. Her gaze ran over her own body from top to bottom, followed by a satisfied nod. Yes, she has preserved herself quite well for a corpse divided into three parts.
After that, Camistella dressed and began to give orders. To the servants – to bring the horse and a couple of other surfaces into order, to Erish – to escort the lady to Phainant. It was time to check if the celebrated artist had returned to Enlil. It would be very sad if his tormented body had already been hanged somewhere by the Calcite raiders, who do not appreciate art very much.
The next morning, Camistella woke up in an inappropriate state, sprawled out on a wooden horse. The voices in her head, after a boisterous night, apparently decided not to bother the lady, and therefore the Lunarian’s mind was surprisingly clear.
“Kill the mutant, burn the heretic, a life full of good deeds and exploits for the space sailor...” Camistella quietly sang, not knowing why. It seems this is something from a poem that made its way to Anush from the outside.
After reciting a few more lines of this work, Camistella barely got off the horse and approached the mirror. Her gaze ran over her own body from top to bottom, followed by a satisfied nod. Yes, she has preserved herself quite well for a corpse divided into three parts.
After that, Camistella dressed and began to give orders. To the servants – to bring the horse and a couple of other surfaces into order, to Erish – to escort the lady to Phainant. It was time to check if the celebrated artist had returned to Enlil. It would be very sad if his tormented body had already been hanged somewhere by the Calcite raiders, who do not appreciate art very much.