Thoughts of how he had fallen so quickly to the bottom of his life unsettled him with every passing second. But what was most frightening about this anxiety was that Adelard continued to be calm. It's a terrible feeling when inside, fear and anxiety rage, but on the surface you continue to act as if everything is fine. It's like sailing on a ship that is about to meet a wave, but nevertheless keeps sailing. There's nothing you can do, nothing you can change. But you keep sailing. Or that nervous smile that hides something terrible that can change a person forever. It is better to endure convulsive bouts of fear, sadness, and pain than to continue to be calm until the irreversible happens. The irreversible lurked in that hard bread that was left lying in front of the spiders and mice. Adelard did not finish this bread completely, for he had always taken care of everyone. Looking at the mice deftly eating what made his stomach ache, Adelard looked at the child he knew nothing about an

"We're going to see a healer. She's saved a lot of people. And I hope she will save your son too," the stranger said, moving mysteriously in his seat and then abruptly changing position. Now, he sat across from Adelard. Feeling the gaze on him and finally the eyes themselves, which glittered brighter than anything else in the world, Adelard asked, "Why are you helping us?" "That's a silly question." "Yes. I know. But I'm just curious." "Does one need a reason to help?" Laughing, Adelard remembered his own words. "What?" "Nothing. Just wanted to say thank you." The stranger said nothing. And for the next few minutes they rode in silence. Only the child's weak heart was beating with the last of its strength, screaming words for mercy. The road was long and quiet. The whole journey took almost half the night. Falling asleep, seeing Celeste before him, Adelard trembled and called out

"I have nowhere to go," Adelard told himself so that Percival would not hear. But he did hear. "Follow me then," he said and walked out of the café, leaving a few coins on the table. The path pointed where the young man was going. His gait was a little clumsy, a little childish. But nonetheless, he walked with confidence and pride. With each step, it was as if he wanted to show that he was proud of himself and that he had nothing to hide. And every time he looked at people passing by, he looked even higher, straight up to the sky. His upright posture perfectly shows the beauty of his long neck, which bends gracefully. And the profile of his face, as he looks straight ahead, reflects all the beauty around him. So that his little nose becomes even smaller and his big, very black eyes even more expressive. And so it is as if with his gaze he is ready to cut through any disbelief, any bad quality of a person. That's right, his gaze was like the tip of a

The noisy streets of the city quickly added new emotions to Adelard's eyes. Noisy people, in beautiful clothes, quickly made him forget about Celeste's beautiful dresses. And he was even sure that if he saw her now, he wouldn't care. With that thought, he took a step forward. Walking past houses with patterned walls, past stores that sold all sorts of things, Adelard remembered a time when he and his mother had walked these same streets. Only then, things were different here. After the rain, the tiled asphalt glistened, holding the weariness of the rain. And with every movement of the carriage wheels, every stone on the ground trembled, heading toward the people. First a shudder in the little stones, and then a thunder that made everyone shudder. Lifting their heads up, people angrily opened their umbrellas and moved on. The rain wanted to start dripping, but seeing that everyone was on standby, it moved aside. And as people relaxed and forgot about the bad weather, the

The carriage, with its two black horses, stopped in front of them and in that second it rained heavily. The thunder was louder than ever before. The lightning woke everyone with its brightness, and as the windows in the houses opened with force, a child's cries could be heard. The coachman, trying to calm his horses, looked up at the sky with anger in his eyes, as if offended by nature. But the rain did not stop at his gaze. It only intensified, frightening the horses even more. Shivering with cold, Adelard sat down and put his arms around his shoulders. His whole body trembled and even his teeth banged rhythmically against each other. Noticing this, Percival said, "Your wife hasn't even returned your clothes. I wonder why she needs your clothes?" "She's not my wife," Adelard said, feeling anger every time she was called that. "That's right. She was never your wife." "Aren't you cold?" "No. I rarely feel cold. Mostly, I'm always ho