41

- Well. Melissa dropped her backpack at her feet and looked around.

Andras's room was a study: shelving, armchairs, a fireplace, an ottoman, two desks, one littered with books, thick leather-bound albums, sheets of notes and empty packages of nuts, the second is clean, but with black marks on the surface.

"Don't you want everyone to see what a slob you are, Grand Marquis?" She tossed the rubbish into a basket at her feet and flipped through a couple of open books curiously.

“The Holy Inquisition,” she read the title of one of the works. “Heavy,” she took the book and put it down. - So, what do we have? "The Powers of the Elemental Witches," an entertaining read. She opened it about half way through and ran her eyes over the yellowish sheets. “Pffff, what idiot wrote that? If you read, so the Great Flood is our work.

Putting aside the books, Mila sat down on one of the easy chairs, then sat on the second one, noting the comfort of the furniture. And with lust she looked at the ottoman: