"Is this really your will, Lord? Have I really angered you so?"

He whispered to himself, barely audibly, looking at his pale palm raised to the sunlight. The young king, dressed in the most expensive and luxurious robes, sat on his throne in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. Deprived of sleep for the last two days, deprived of appetite and rest, he was beginning to drown in his despair. And the reason was the woman, looking at him slyly right now.

Not just a woman, but a real devilish creature. Who had escaped from the Hell and put down strong roots in the world of people thanks to the unfortunate king. Only he saw this evil spirit, to his great regret, and she tormented only him purposefully.

She stood carelessly near his throne, looking at another priest who had come from afar and was trying to drive out the demon. This blockhead was lighting up the corner of the room, theatrically proving that the demon was sitting right there, right by the ceiling. Ridiculous! A bunch of costumed jesters, hoping to get gold for "saving" the suffеring king.

"All of you, go away. So that my eyes don't see anyone until the morning."

He said quietly and hoarsely, waving his hand wearily.