Egor sat at the kitchen table and drank hot tea, trying to rethink what had happened today. White light, a huge spider and Klaus. Strong, brave, desperate and fearless. Was this how he spent his time in his world? Was this really an ordinary weekday for him? Judging by the way he was sitting and calmly devouring baked meat with tomato sauce, that was exactly how it was.
"Hey, pass the pickles. Hey, Egor, can you hear me?" Klaus addressed him, waving in front of the young man's glassy gaze.
"How can you even have lunch so calmly, after what happened!"
"What happened? Oh, yeah, you've never seen such creatures! So will you pass me the cucumbers?"
Egor shook his head from side to side and went to the refrigerator, took out a jar of pickled cucumbers, took a plate and gave everything to Klaus.
Pouoka ate thoughtfully, not paying attention to the young people. Egor was surprised by his grandmother's calm. Did they even care that they could die today? Where did they get such composure from? The young man sat down again in his place. A large gray, almost black, stain had spread over the kitchen set. The door of the cabinet where they kept cereals and seasonings was crooked, the countertop around the sink was rotten from the moisture, the linoleum on the floor was torn in several places and an old, dirty and crumbling concrete floor was visible from under it.
Egor leaned on the table, and it swayed a little under his weight.
"Maybe we should do some repairs?" He asked as if they were deciding what to spend the bonus on.
Pouoka and Klaus froze, stopped chewing, and looked at him puzzled.
"What? Do you like living in a crumbling apartment?" The young man was surprised.
"Egor, are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should rest?" The grandmother asked worriedly.
"Yes, go and get some sleep. You're in shock. You're talking nonsense." Klaus confirmed and began to eat the rest of his dinner.
"What's wrong with them?" Egor thought. "Am I wrong? Can't we tidy up the apartment a little, since Klaus earns so much money? Can't they see the deplorable state of the apartment?" but something told him that he shouldn't voice his indignation out loud. He left his unfinished tea on the table and quietly went to his room, noticing the worried looks.
"I think there was some common sense in his words," Klaus noted, waving a piece of bread.
"You mean the renovation? I wouldn't mind. Maybe let him do it?"
"Yes. He was greatly affected by what was happening, I hope his brain doesn't go crazy. Let him get distracted."
"We need to find the girl who left the tracking mark."
"Why?"
"Magic. It's still in her. We can't miss the opportunity to collect as much as possible, if you still want to go home, of course."
"That will be problematic. We don't know anything about her."
"But we have a friend who is very good at finding things that others can't, removing things that bother you, and making wonderful documents."
"You mean that Andryusha of yours? As I understand it, he has already repaid you, old woman."
"Money can solve this little problem."
"And how much money are we talking about?"
"I don't know, but it's clearly more than all of us together can scrape together right now."
Klaus looked thoughtfully at his empty plate. He couldn't refuse the opportunity to get home as quickly as possible, but he didn't know how to get enough money either. Although he knew, he stubbornly pushed the thought away. He couldn't sink any lower. He had to leave at least a drop of pride. Although, what good were the pride, honor and strength that were so valued in his world and that his father had taught him since childhood, if he could never return? Klaus slowly looked up at Pouoka, pushed the cutlery aside and said with a heavy heart:
"I can get money. Find out how much you need, and leave the rest to me."
"Very interesting. I hope you're not planning to rob a bank?" Pouoka asked jokingly, but with a hint of anxiety in her voice.
"Don't talk nonsense. I'll earn them," he raised his hand when Pouoka tried to say something "please, don't ask how and where. Nothing criminal, not exactly my taste, but I'm ready to make sacrifices if it will speed up my return."
"Okay," was all Grandma said.
Egor lay in bed until the evening. His brain did not want to process information about today, so the young man went through different thoughts in his head. What color should he choose for the kitchen set? Will they have enough money for good repairs or should they limit themselves to simple cosmetic ones? Why does a cat become attached to only one member of the family? I wonder how his grandmother will react if he decides to get a dog? Or maybe he should choose something like a hamster or a guinea pig? What good are they anyway? And a cat? And little pocket dogs whose eyes bulge out of fear and whose hearts stop?
Gradually, his thoughts returned to reality. What if he went to the gym, could he become as strong as Klaus? Maybe he could find some course on the Internet to become braver? How soon would Klaus leave their house? Would they have time to do the repairs? Egor felt sad. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. A quickly smoldering sports jacket appeared before his inner vision. What if the poison had gotten on Klaus? It was because of Egor that he could have died today.
"Are you not sleeping?" a quiet, rough voice was heard. Egor abruptly opened his eyes and turned his head.
"Sorry. I took your bed," a nervous laugh - or rather my bed, which you brazenly appropriated for yourself.
"It's okay. You can lie here for a bit today," Klaus stepped over the rolled-up mattress that served as Egor's bed, took a pillow from the chair, threw it on the bed and lay down next to Egor, who had to move a little and turn on his side so that two people could fit on the single bed.
"I'm sorry that it turned out like this today," the apology came out confused. Egor realized that it was new for the prince to say such words. "Both the mark and the spider were meant for me, but all my troubles have fallen on you," he turned his head to Egor, whose mouth even opened in amazement. "Don't look at me like that, I'm actually trying to apologize."
"Sorry, it's just so unexpected to hear this from you!"
Klaus smiled faintly and stared at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts, and Egor continued to look at his neighbor's chiseled profile. Straight nose, long eyelashes, thin but clearly defined lips and a tattoo of a black moon on his temple.
"What do your tattoos mean?" Egor asked, involuntarily reaching out and touching Klaus's temple.
"It's like a passport," the guy answered, mechanically slapping Egor's hand, as if he wanted to slap a fly. He pressed Egor's fingers with his hand for a few seconds, until the young man came to his senses and pulled his hand away with a wildly beating heart.
"So, instead of documents, you get tattoos?" Egor was surprised.
"Not exactly. A tattoo is a distinctive mark. It shows what family you belong to, how high your position is. Even slaves get tattoos so that everyone knows that he already belongs to someone. Only slaves get a brand on their arm, for example, or leg. Usually it is the coat of arms of the family to which he belongs, circled. One circle is a low slave, two circles are a middle-ranking slave, three circles are a high-ranking slave. Sometimes, distinctive signs are put next to the brand, for example, a jug for a fine potter, an eye for a search mage, a lily for one trained in the art of love, and so on. Nobility is obliged to wear the clan's coat of arms on their face. Mine is - he pointed to both temples."
"Interesting."
"Do you believe in my world now?" Klaus grinned.
"After what happened today, do I have another choice?" Egor also couldn't hold back a smile, seeing the prince's serene and relaxed face. "He's not as bad as he wants to seem," the thought came to him, and for some reason his heart began to beat faster again.
"So you'll do the repairs?"
"What?" Egor was surprised by the abrupt change in the conversation.
"Well, the repairs. The old woman and I thought about it and decided that you're right. It's not very comfortable to live in this hovel."
"Wait. What repairs! We have more important things to do!"
"We'll do these things ourselves. It's better for you to stay away. I don't want you to go crazy."
"Everything is fine with me already! And wouldn't you be surprised if in one moment everything you believed and knew changed?" Egor hotly objected, and then remembered. This is exactly what happened to Klaus just a few weeks ago, but he didn't even bat an eye. He quickly adapted to the unfamiliar life and even succeeded in his new role, and Egor... He fell apart when he saw a huge spider.
"Egor, still..."
"No! I want to help in any way I can! Especially since you forgot? The mark is on my hand and I can't sit on the sidelines. I don't want to shake in fear anymore while you save my life! Next time I want to be ready. Yes, yes, I know," he hastened to add, seeing the skeptical expression on the prince's face "I know and understand perfectly well that I am weak, frail and physically unable to help you in any way, but I will try to be useful! Still, I am better than an old woman, don't you think?"
"To be honest, I don't see much of a difference. And you don't need to make such an offended face. You really are a weakling, but you're right. The mark will drag all the troubles to you and it's better for me to be nearby at that time."
"I don't want you to risk your life again to save me," Egor frowned and shuddered, remembering the pile of charred fabric that was left from Klaus's jacket.
The usual arrogant expression on his face, a slightly crooked, self-confident smile, a hand falls on Yegor's head and ruffles his hair.
"Relax. It is the master's duty to protect his property."
Well, and Egor, he couldn't even get angry at him. And let him compare me to furniture. The guy has already gotten used to it. This is, one might say, a certain highlight of the prince. After all, he lived for twenty years in a completely different world. Little by little, in small steps, he will learn the rules of life on the earth of our reality and change his attitude towards people. To Egor himself. Unless... Unless he returns home earlier.
***
Klaus stood by Clara's office and nervously rubbed his thigh through his trouser pocket. He had made a decision, but how difficult it was to voice it out loud! There were still about twenty minutes left before his work shift, although he had arrived an hour early and still could not bring himself to go to his boss.
Pouoka found out about the price from her criminal friend. Given their limited knowledge of the object of their search, the amount was more than they had expected, but they had no other choice. The money had to be paid in installments. Fifty percent before and fifty after. Right now they didn't have enough for the down payment, which meant there was no time to wait any longer. The young man took another breath, wiped his damp palms on the inside of his pockets and knocked on the door three times.
"Come in," the melodic voice of the bar owner was heard.
His hand reached for the door, the handle turned, and with a slight click the door opened. Klaus slowly swung it open and understood that there was no way back. His whole being protested. He was a proud warrior! The heir to an entire country and what was he doing now? Carrying out the orders of an impudent woman and going to bow down to a bunch of middle-aged ladies who, out of boredom, go to specialized clubs and enjoy the attention of young boys, among whom he would soon be.
"Oh, it's you! I'm glad you decided to come in yourself."
"I agree," Klaus barely audibly said as soon as he approached Clara's table and clasped his still sweaty palms behind his back.
"What, forgive me?"
"I agree to your offer," the young man said a little louder through clenched teeth.
"I knew you were a smart boy - she smiled." When are you ready to start?
"The sooner the better."
"Excellent, then we will send you for training today. I assure you, you will have no problems with clients! As I said, several people have already asked about you."
"Good. Can I go?"
"Yes, I will send someone to you who will explain everything to you, say, in a couple of hours. For now, start your usual duties."
"Good."
Klaus left the office completely devastated. He knew he was doing it for a good cause, but he still couldn't accept how low he had to fall. Yes, there was no slavery in this world, but he still felt like a slave. In fact, that was exactly what he had been. He had become a slave. A slave to circumstances. A slave to money. A slave to Clara, on whom his income depended, his chance to return home, his opportunity to take revenge on the one who had turned his life upside down in an instant. Slaves do not get freedom, they remain someone's property for life, but Klaus has a chance to free himself if he puts in maximum effort and shoves his pride and self-flagellation deep down.
The Crown Prince always had a talent for self-hypnosis. He could convince himself of anything. At the age of five, his father gave him over to the care of a teacher. He did it for his own good. So what if children are usually sent to school at the age of nine, when they are strong enough. Father wanted Klaus to become the smartest and strongest.
Sent him hunting in the ravine of fear at fifteen, where even the bravest warriors in the royal army did not go? He wanted to temper his son, make steel out of him. Eradicate all fears. And so it was always. Klaus tried to find something good in every terrible situation. Some higher meaning, which frankly irritated his father.
"You shouldn't reassure yourself! Take everything as it is. Life is a struggle. There is no hidden meaning in it. Don't be a wimp!" he kept saying.
"Okay, father," Klaus answered with a bow every time, and in the back of his mind a scenario was already emerging where his father was trying to warn him of future disappointments. No, he doesn't despise me. No, he loves his only child very much. No, he cares about me and didn't take a new wife so that a more suitable heir would be born.
Egor walked slowly towards the bar. His thoughts kept returning to Klaus, or rather to his atypical behavior.
"Where are you going? We still have plenty of time before work," Egor asked in surprise, seeing Klaus pulling on his sneakers.
"I want to take a little walk. You don't have to hurry, I know the way perfectly well."
"But...," Egor didn't have time to finish speaking, as Klaus quickly waved his hand at him and walked out the door.
"But you always make me accompany you," he finished mentally. Klaus never went anywhere alone.
"A royal person cannot appear in public without an escort," he always responded to Egor's protests. "And if I need something? No, you must always be nearby."
What had changed now? Egor had started to notice oddities in his neighbor's behavior since the day they had visited the portal. The Crown Prince was increasingly lost in his thoughts, absent-minded, and often winced at his thoughts. He didn't even make Egor prepare clothes, draw a bath, or serve food. He did everything himself. Egor was frightened by such changes, although they should have made him happy. He understood that something was wrong.
Grandmother shrugged her shoulders in response to all questions and said:
"Who knows what's going on in that guy's head. He's probably made something up again."
The weather was beautiful, a warm spring breeze was already blowing, heralding the imminent beginning of summer. In the rays of the setting sun, young couples in love, families with children were strolling. Old people were sitting on benches next to the river, feeding pigeons and simply enjoying a pleasant evening. Egor loved the end of spring, but now he could not enjoy the beautiful weather as he did before. Who was Klaus to him that he could not find a place for himself because of him?
The young man turned the corner and saw Klaus thoughtfully examining a lit cigarette.
"Have you changed your clothes yet?"
"Huh? Is that you? Have you arrived yet?" Klaus answered the question with a question.
"What's going on? Tell me!" Egor couldn't stand it. He couldn't look at such a prince any longer. Confusion didn't suit him!
"Everything's fine," Klaus waved his hand, took one drag, winced and stubbed out the cigarette with the toe of his shoe. "Let's go?"