Vera Kamsha. Winter break. Volume 1. From the depths (№ 405055)

- Roke, do you want water? - Sunset creatures, he shouldn't call raven by name. It shouldn't be here!
"Duke of Épne," Alva winced, "I don't recall us drinking on brudershaft.
"I'm sorry," Robert apologized gratefully, "so you pour it?" I at least want to drink.
"Then ask the colonel," Raven advised. - This water is salty, it is here for beauty. Fresh today has not yet been brought.
- Okay, - Robert realized that he was suffocating- I'll ask now.
Morin stared with surprise at the First Marshal Talygoya, with Berger methodical arrangement on the table of jugs and cups.
- Mr. Commandant, - that's how they do stupid things, useless, unnecessary, ruining themselves and others, - bother to spill water.
"Monsignor," Morin's chin pulled up, "I'm asking for an explanation.
"Here they are," Robert pulled out a gun and put it on the edge of the table. The hatred was cold and heavy, like a frozen boulder. - Pour. To the brim!
Moraine flinched, but the pitcher tilted. Water poured in. A brilliant jet, mockingly gurgling, filled one by one luxurious, fit the king, cups. Alat crystal, darkness, heat, salt... Morin's hands trembled. And good. Very good, just excellent!