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Death’s Desire. Smerti Ohota
16. The memory of ‘The Lady with the Blazing Heart’

16. The memory of ‘The Lady with the Blazing Heart’

“What about this one?”

I turned round as Circul was in no hurry to answer.

“This is my mother's room,” the guy exhaled almost reverently, running his palm over the floral pattern of the light purple wallpaper.

“Oh, I want to sit here,” I patted the carved white chair, “and lie here...” My fingers trailed along the sofa by the balcony. I reached out to hug the porcelain vase.

“These are perfectly ordinary pieces of furniture.”

“You don't understand a thing! These are the private chambers of Wemily Circul herself, ‘the Lady with the Blazing Heart’. Instead of the kitchen and five pantries, you could have brought me straight here.”

I gently stroked the strings of the cello that stood guard on a stand in the corner. The deep, low sounds immediately filled the room, sending shivers through my chest.

“These things were touched by the president's wife herself.” I buried my nose in the perfume cabinet, blissfully inhaling the divine scents of the most expensive cosmetics in the world.

There was laughter at my back. “You are funny.”

I looked into the mirror and saw Circul sitting on the couch in front of the bed, smiling at me.

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“You don't get it. I was a member of your mother's fan club for five years.”

“Yes, she had many admirers...” Grant said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice, turning his gaze to the portrait above the fireplace.

“I'm sorry she's gone. She was a very good person.”

The young man nodded, accepting my sympathy. I ran my fingers over the jewellery, which was neatly stacked in the box. These star earrings were the ones Wemily had worn when she'd spoken at the charity event for the victims of the terrorist attack, this bracelet had shone on her wrist when she'd presented honorary certificates to veterans of the Hundred Years' War. And this ring... was the engagement ring Rizor Circul had given her for Unica's Independence Day.

I knew almost everything about ‘the Lady with the Blazing Heart’, at least I remembered every date in her public life. A girl from the richest family in the Samun Empire, she had run away from home at seventeen to devote her life to music and her beloved cello, rather than arranged marriages and high society parties. It was at one of the fundraising events that she was spotted by the future Mr. President playing her favourite ‘Smeraldo's Farewell Song’.

She was the kind of unassuming person who, by her behaviour and self-image, could make you think she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I hated Risor Circul, but I was grateful for his choice. He had married the kindest and most empathetic person in all of history who had ever lived. His wife had done great things, noble and generous, selfless and righteous. She became a legend to be worshipped for years to come.

It's a shame her life was cut so short. Brilliant people rarely have a happy fate.

My feet carried me to the dressing room, the light came on at the entrance and I gazed happily at the abundance of clothes.

“So many beautiful garments here...”

He blocked my way.

“Don't you dare touch that. You're fine in mine, don't defile my mother's things.”

“Sourpuss.”

I exhaled angrily and walked away, but for a long time afterwards I remembered Grant's frowning face defending the last memory of his mother.