Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor - страница 40

"Did you swallow your tongue out of joy?" Ahmed chuckled.

Aman-Jalil hastily feigned embarrassment. Layla looked at him mockingly and somewhat arrogantly.

"I agree to be your wife, but on one condition: every word of mine is law to you!… Understand?"

Her eyes flashed so fiercely that Aman-Jalil thanked Allah that his heart belonged to Gulshan and Nigyar. Falling for this monster would mean a lifetime of suffering, or at least until you loved. So he obediently bowed his head.

"So it shall be: every word of yours is law to me."

Ahmed clapped his hands. Immediately, servants entered the study carrying a black morning coat for the groom and a white lace gown with Dutch gold embroidery for the bride. Leila went to the sitting room behind the study.

– The mullah is waiting, the priest too. Everything's set at the Palace of Matrimony and Family. First the mosque, then the church. Shame they turned the Catholic cathedral into a warehouse, they've just finished renovating it. And then the seals and champagne at the Palace of Matrimony and Family… How do you like the grand plan?… Oh, here are the golden watches with two diamonds each for you. A gift for your daughter. She's a symbolist, whatever that means—I checked with the medics just in case. They say it's nothing serious… Your gift, the diamond necklace, I've already presented to the bride. Tell me, where did you get such money, huh? You're just a humble inquisition clerk, yet this necklace costs ten times more than what you earn in ten years. Are you saving on matches?

– An aunt passed away and left it to me," Aman-Jalil replied, playing along nervously.

– So, you have several of them? My dear, then I'm at ease about my daughter. She won't know the meaning of 'denial'. Right?

– Don't worry, boss. If a shadow of discontent crosses her face, that shadow will vanish in my dungeons…

– That's right: the pure with the pure, the impure with the impure!

Aman-Jalil changing into his outfit was a matter of minutes. They waited a long time for Leila. Minutes dragged by in complete silence. Ahmed perused papers, jotting notes into a thick, leather-bound tome. 'Mortirologia'. Everyone knew about it, but no mortal, except Ahmed, had ever dared to peer into its pages.

Aman-Jalil watched a fly that had managed to slip past the servants into the study. His fingers automatically reached into his vest pocket, where he had stashed an elastic band from his suit. The fly lazily explored the vast chamber, filled with a sweet scent, gradually approaching Aman-Jalil. On the small table next to him lay a large open box of rum-filled chocolate bombs. Aman-Jalil swatted the fly over the open box, wiped the elastic band absentmindedly on his vest, tucked it back into his pocket, and with his bloodied fingers, picked up a rum-filled chocolate bomb and popped it into his mouth. A tiny sip of rum pleasantly refreshed his throat, and the chocolate eased the mild burn…

Finally, the door from the sitting room swung open, and Leila entered in her bridal attire. The men stood up respectfully, struck by her beauty and elegance. Although Aman-Jalil briefly thought Gulshan would look just as stunning in that expensive bridal gown. He thought, then pushed the thought aside and knelt before Leila.

– Goddess, I am your unworthy servant! To look upon you is to be blinded by the sun!