Irishka is tired. Very tired. All week since the kidnapping, she tried to keep contact with the owner of Moreno castle to a minimum. Frivolous breeches were replaced by dark closed dresses. Now she did only strict hairstyles, wore strong shoes with steady heels. Having estimated that no protection would be superfluous, the marquise put on a corset. Putting on this torture device, the lady walked straight around the castle, as if she had swallowed a stick, not letting go of her necromance a single step, and dreamed of a chastity belt, like manna from heaven. Her bedroom doors were always closed, the curtains on the windows drawn. For Ryu...