33

Paraman stood at the exit to the throne room. Leaning his back against the wall dimly lit by the torch, he waited for Yakir to come down, and only then handed him a rolled-up paper and quietly muttered:

- Read.

Unfolding the sheet, Yakir turned his back to the torch, glanced briefly over the small, dense lines, and, raising his eyes to Paraman, narrowed his eyes, hoping to hide his confusion and surprise:

“Lyramel also asked me to leave. Why are these changes? The host decided to replay? Or is it something to do with the recent ceremony?

“Too many questions,” the duke replied gloomily, pulling the paper out of his hands. - Do what you're told. We'll see in a couple of months.

So the Order. I wonder what Aarmani and Aurok will say to this? Or did you and Carl decide everything behind their backs? Yes Paraman?

The duke was so fast that Yakir did not even have time to raise his hand. Hitting his head against the wall, he tried to inhale, but couldn't: cold, hard fingers squeezed his
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