Celtiel really did not like changes that related to him in any way. But the venerable Deaney needs to leave for the south of the country due to the deteriorating health of his parents. There are plenty of healers in that area who might be able to help them. Therefore, he has to tolerate a new face on his premises. The one eternally smiling face flickering everywhere. Although, the garden accepted this boy, so... It’s fine, if the petunias liked this grasshopper with iridescent curls, then so be it.

After the last skirmish of the Empire with the underground white-haired parasites, Captain Caro was sent on forced leave. He spent a lot of energy during the war, suffered a lot of losses. One of which, nothing and no one is able to make up for. No matter how long it takes: fifty years, one hundred, two hundred – his image will never leave the master of the flower estate. Their love is not subject to time, as well as the grief for the beloved who was taken away by the war.

Yes, a truce between the races was signed, but, as they say, “If you want peace, prepare for war.” In fact, yesterday, one of the military ministers came to discuss, in fact, how they ought to prepare.

Idiots, Caro lamented to himself. What difference does it make to how protected our borders are, if these bastards climb out of the ground if something happens! If that senile Kenalio would come here to spout such nonsense ever again! Those pillocks sent me out, and still show up every month to play on my nerves! The inner voice did not stop while its owner put on his clothes, getting ready to meet the new day.

“And what’s that?”

Looking out the window, the elf was literally taken aback. Having forgotten to girdle his robe, he stood with his mouth open and gazed at the flock of huge green hummingbirds hovering in front of his eyes in the place where yesterday there was only a hedge.

“Good morning, Master!”

Dear and holy, does he really need to do this since the early morning?

“Will you forgive me such a liberty?” squeaked the youngster with a smile from ear to ear. Your cheeks must hurt from grinning that much, no?

“As far as I know, slavery in the Holy Empire was abolished more than three hundred years ago.”

“Got it, sir! Have a nice day!”

“There’s too much of this guy.” Celtiel muttered under his breath as he walked away.

Mr. Caro went to the kitchen, and Arnel rejoiced. He got the go-ahead for free modeling. Well, let’s see how many emotions your facial muscles remember, sir!

Since then, every morning has delighted Celtiel with a new view from the window. At first it was something abstract, like birds, fish, lions, domestic cats, and other various animals. But one day, Caro, looking outside his window, saw his reflection, though slightly greener than the original, but just as surprised as he was looking at it. A small figure of Arnel peeped out from behind the “statue”.

“Arnel…,” the blue-eyed man started, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, Master Caro?” the young man flapped his eyelashes innocently.

“You may go,” Celtiel sighed and, shaking his head, watched the retreating elf.

So, they continued to communicate in such a strange manner: Arnel provoked an emotion, and Celtiel generously gave out what he was asked, without noticing it.

Literally each new day, the military adviser witnessed one of his mimic expressions. There were several variations of surprise, skepticism, discontent, an eye-roll, a slight smile, a couple of times the pangs of mental pain and even rage, no doubt after the latest visit of Celtiel’s stupid colleague. He could only guess where and when the green-haired weasel had spied on all this.

And the sneaky eyes were everywhere. Although, in fact, everything coincided so well, he bumped into the gentleman at the most suitable moments, and at night he immediately captured what he saw. Over time, Celtiel even stopped snorting and only smiled when he saw another monument of himself outside his window. And this smile served as the best resolution and inspiration for the young magician.

True, with each time, with each incarnation of the master’s appearance in stems and foliage, it made Arnel more and more often think about his real role in the estate and the life of its owner. More and more often he remembered the last conversation with Master’s dead spouse. Sometimes he even began to doubt the correctness of his actions. Maybe it was worthwhile to refuse then, to resist with all his might? But no, he had no choice; Master Diriel didn’t have time to give it. But will he have the courage to see it through? And if the master refuses his service? Either he will kick him out, or ... make him wait for the one who will be more worthy. This option painfully echoed in his heart with a dull thump. No, he will not think bad. Not yet. First, he needed to have a serious talk with Caro.