“She's wearing a veil, and I can't see her face, maybe she's ugly.”
“Invite her to dance and see.”
“Let her write notes to Arel, he is a handsome prince, and I am already old for this. I'm not interested in flirting.”
“Dad, don’t sell yourself short, well, what the talks of being old?! If she is so disposed to you, I think that business may not be limited to flirting.”
“So that her relatives would force me to marry her later? Well, no,” Kors laughed.
He brought the note to the candle, burning it:
“Let her look for someone else.”
But in his heart he was very pleased that this girl singled out him, and not young and beautiful Arel sitting next to him.
24
Blood ties
And the holiday went on.
Vitor Kors, Nikto and Arel left the main banquet hall for a while and went to the room that the reds called the hookah lounge, and for the blacks the hookah was a curiosity.
Vitor Kors was sitting on a soft sofa, buried in brocade pillows. In his life, he had already tried this fun of the reds, and he liked it. Therefore, he enjoyed the moment and, at the same time, with his arm bent at the elbow, he relaxed hugged his Nik, who sat next to him, around the neck. Kors pressed his head to his chest, kissing the bright top of his head every minute. Nikto didn’t resist at all and allowed Kors to hug him and press him to himself as he wanted. With his free hand, Kors stroked his bangs. Nikto’s ponytail had long been disheveled, but Kors didn’t care now. He didn’t brush his hair anymore, he didn’t alter his tail, he just stroked and fiddled gently through his hair, ran over the bangs that obscured Nik’s face and his eyes, without removing it or opening his face, stroking him like a beloved pet – a cat or a dog.
Only sometimes, between puffs, he nevertheless slightly shifted his white hair aside, leaning towards the face of Nikto and kissing him gently on the forehead or eyes:
“I love you, I love you, let me kiss you on your such beautiful long eyelashes…”
Lis’ father entered the hookah lounge, he winced, trying not to inhale the smoke, Igmer clearly intended to disturb their bliss, and Kors looked a little questioningly and arrogantly at him, not caring at all about his reputation and what Igmer might think, did not change his posture and didn’t let Nikto go.