“No.”
“Did the black ones inspire you to make your hair like theirs?”
“No. My hair itself darkened over time, I don’t know why, after thirty it began to darken,” Lis lied to his father so easily that Karina was involuntarily amazed.
“Really? Very strange,” Igmer said thoughtfully.
He came very close to them, and, reaching out his hand, touched the dark brown, only slightly shimmering in burgundy, Lis’ hair. “Maybe this is how your black roots appeared over time?”
“Most likely, father,” Lis finally let go of Karina, and, taking his father’s hand with both hands, kissed his fingers, Igmer allowed him.
And Lis knelt in front of him and kissed his hand, as if just a couple of hours ago he had not won an unconditional and brilliant victory over the enemy’s army, twice outnumbering his own, and had not captured the twenty thousandth Ore town, and was not fearless and a worthy commander.
“Forgive me,” he told his father.
And he, smiling, finally lifted him from his knees:
“It's all in the past,” said Igmer, peering into the face of his son with fatherly warmth, still stained with powder soot and splattered with someone else’s blood. “I have forgiven you long ago.”
He looked at Karina. She shrank, froze, lowering her eyes, since the shield of the mask hid her expression.
“But you're with her again,” Igmer said, and Karina very clearly caught disappointment and discontent in his voice.
“Karina is my wife,” said Lis, with some challenge.
“Wife?”
“Yes, father. She is my wife.”
“Not according to the red laws.”
“It doesn't matter, we are husband and wife before the Higher Forces.”
“Hmm…” Lis’ father was clearly annoyed, “well… well … Send her away now. We need to talk.”
Lis looked anxiously at Karina:
“Let me go,” she said quickly, seeing his hesitation, and without waiting for an answer, she rushed to the door herself.
Nikto, Kors and the others went out into the adjoining living room. In Kudmer’s palace, there were crystal vases with bonbons and various sweets everywhere. Zaf grinned with satisfaction and, going up to an elegant table on thin curved legs, took off the glass transparent lid from the vase and took a sugared piece of deep pink color:
“What's this?” He asked with interest.
“I think it's a succade,” remarked Kors, since none of those present was in a hurry to answer, “candied fruit.”