Serenica had feared Roinar's wrath, but when she came to the house on the hill, there was only Helen, sobbing on the stairs, a bottle of wine in both hands.
Serenica couldn't make up anything sensible, so she said:"You haven't opened both of those? Please tell me you haven't."
Helen raised her head instantly as she heard Serenica's voice.
"Serenica! My darling! You didn't abandon me!"
"I couldn't. I am sorry."
"So am I."
"Where's Roinar?" Serenica asked to dull her sense of relief. Relief was a fickle wench. It never stayed for long.
"He left. I don't know what the hell he is up to, and I don't care."
"Good. Can I sit with you?"
"An absurd question, Serenica, of course you can. After all, you are the true mistress here. I am an imitation of womanhood, while you're real, tangible, useful."
Serenica sat down and took a sip of wine. It tasted very bad.
"You're the most useful person I know," she said quietly.
