Arthur stood with his back to the bed, where with each new hoarse breath life left his father's body. Father? The man smiled bitterly. Rather, a leader, because as a real father, Arseny never showed himself. Maybe that's why his heir did not feel any emotions suitable for such a situation right now. No pain, no suffering, no desire to prevent the light tread of Mara, the Goddess of death, who is about to come to take the soul of a man. Nothing. When my mother died, everything was different. She and her sister did not leave her bed, praying to all existing Gods and spirits, asking them to delay...