"Zenkhald," she began.
But Alastia didn't have time to finish.
The door swung open so sharply that it hit the wall. Mira strode into the room—with a face that looked like she was about to either save the world or deliver a very long lecture. More likely the latter.
Alastia quickly straightened up.
"Mira?.."
"Alastia, listen here," she said immediately, not wasting a single second. "Zenkhald is not allowed to drink alcoholic beverages or smoke. Even though he doesn't like it, if he suddenly gets used to it—he won't be able to kick the habit later. And he won't be able to quit."
"Hey—"
Mira abruptly poked a finger at me.
"Be quiet."
I closed my mouth in offense.
"Make sure he doesn't play gambling games," she continued as if reading a list of particularly dangerous natural disasters. "He is very unlucky and doesn't know how to stop. Make sure he changes his clothes more often. He can walk around in the same thing for years. Make sure he isn't recorded or marked down unnecessarily—a little stealth won't hurt him. Make sure he doesn't fall asleep just anywhere. And don't give him too much sweet stuff."
I opened my mouth again.
Mira didn't even turn her head.
"I said: be quiet."
And she continued.
For a whole five minutes.
No, seriously—five.
She managed to list that I shouldn't sit on cold stone for a long time, that I can forget to eat if I'm busy with something, that sometimes I stare at one point for too long and it "doesn't always mean he's thinking, sometimes he just zoned out," that I shouldn't be allowed to disappear for a few days without explanation, and that if I suddenly become too quiet, it's worse than if I start spouting nonsense non-stop.
Alastia honestly tried to listen seriously at first.
Then her lips began to tremble.
Then a very familiar gleam appeared in her eyes.
I, meanwhile, sat there with the face of a person who had just been handed over for use along with care instructions.
"...and also," Mira finished, throwing a brief glance at me, "if he says that 'everything is fine,' it almost always means that nothing is fine, but he doesn't want to explain."
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
After that, she finally fell silent.
It became quiet in the room.
Mira looked first at Alastia, then at me.
"Good luck to you," she said.
Judging by the tone, not to me.
Then she turned around and left just as quickly as she had entered.
The door closed.
There was complete silence for a few seconds.
And then Alastia couldn't hold it in and laughed.
Not quietly. Not politely. For real.
She bent over, covered her mouth with her hand, and laughed so sincerely that I couldn't even really get offended.
"What's so funny?" I asked gloomily.
"Nothing," she said, still laughing. "Nothing at all. It's just... it was very touching. You were literally handed over to me with a full list of maintenance rules."
"Wonderful," I grumbled. "I always dreamed of becoming a rare, problematic beast."
Alastia sat closer, still with a smile.
"So, you can't have milk?"
I looked at her suspiciously.
"Where did you even get that from?"
"Well," she said innocently. "Since you have such a strong addiction to sweets, maybe it's the same with milk? You drink a mug—and that's it, you're a goner. You'll be running around looking for a cow later."
"Nothing of the sort."
"Strange," Alastia drew out. "People usually don't drink milk anyway. It's almost like poison for you. Only children drink it."
It was said with such mocking calmness that I immediately understood: she wouldn't let it go.
"Yeah, laugh it up," I said, narrowing my eyes. "And the addiction is really no joke."
"Oh?" her eyebrows rose higher. "So I guessed right?"
"I didn't say you guessed right."
"But you didn't say I was wrong, either."
"Because I'm not obligated to justify myself to you."
"So, I guessed right."
I sighed heavily.
"I told you: laugh it up."
Alastia smiled even wider, clearly pleased with herself.
I leaned back and muttered, more to myself:
"Fortunately, I haven't tried it yet in this cycle."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Zenkhald."
"What?"
"You just said a very suspicious phrase."
"And you are looking at me very suspiciously right now."
"Because it's starting to seem to me that Mira didn't come early enough."
"Traitor," I muttered. "One left, and the other immediately took her side."
"I haven't taken anyone's side yet," Alastia said affectionately. "I'm just trying to understand if I need to hide the milk from you."
I slowly turned my head toward her.
"Just try it."
"Oh, so I do need to after all."
"Alastia."
"Hmm?"
"That would be very cruel on your part."
She laughed again—quieter this time—and moved closer.
"Alright, I won't."
"Really?"
"If you behave yourself."
"You see," I said with deep sadness. "Just this morning I had a wife. And now, it seems, I have a warden."
"Not true," she said softly. "I can be both."
"That's even more frightening."
She poked me in the shoulder with her finger.
"And anyway, don't make that face. It's useful for me to know who I'm living with."
"You already know."
"No," she objected. "Now I know more. For example, that you can't be left near a bottle, cards, sugar, the same cloak... and, apparently, milk."
"I'm starting to regret that I didn't run away earlier."
"This is a marriage, you know."
I fell silent.
She looked at me with that exact little smile that somehow always made me feel calm and awkward at the same time.
"Well?" Alastia asked.
"Nothing."
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
"Thinking."
"It's bad for you to think."
"Agreed."
She quietly chuckled and rested her head on my shoulder, still smiling.
"Alright," she said. "Don't worry. I won't take the milk away from you for now."
"For now?"
"For now."
"That sounds ominous."
"As it should."
I sighed, but didn't argue anymore.
To be honest, after all this sudden lecture from Mira, after Alastia's laughter and her stubborn, warm presence nearby, it all felt... strangely cozy.
Very strange. And very cozy.
As if someone was truly looking after me now. As if I was finally allowed not to be alone all the time.
And, probably, that is exactly why I only grumbled:
"Don't touch the milk anyway."
Alastia buried her face in my shoulder and laughed quietly.
"We'll see, Zenkhald. We'll see."