Practical psychology. Comte

Review of the novel “Comte” by Irina Uspenskaya

I like that Comte does not belong to gender literature. It has a lot of adventure and little pink snot, but a lot of attention is paid to human psychology. This book reminded me of those that both boys and girls read in childhood. If you loved Treasure Island or Captain Blood, this is the place for you.

What is this book about? About the hit...

Directly from her deathbed, Victoria goes to the Middle Ages. Only no, she’s not sixteen, but fifty. The heroine has no shortage of intelligence and willpower: Victoria raised three sons and even put that light on her ears.

She was lucky, she became not a simple servant, but an aristocrat, that is, no... The soul of Victroia occupied the body of Alan Wallid, a local Comte. A minute before this, he managed to kill his father in cold blood in order to seize power.

Fortunately, Alan’s authority was enough to keep his charges in line so that they would not pay attention to the oddities of the new account after his illness. Past Alan tortured, raped, or tormented for fun. Everything, it turns out, has its advantages. At least Victoria was able to rest in peace. About two minutes.

The other side of the cruelty of the past Comte has made itself felt. Before Victoria had time to get used to her new body, three attempts were made on her life, one after another. As soon as she wanted to roll out reforms and free the slaves, it turns out that the month of kindness did not erase the years of bestiality. Former slaves are ready to plunge a knife into the back of a good master at the first opportunity.

But wait! A witch is being burned in the village; Victoria cannot save her, but she is saved by a handsome mountaineer. His green eyes haunt her, but for some reason the local priest is watching the inclinations of the new account too closely. And the wife is unhappy... Yes, I forgot to mention the wife is the size of a whale. We still need to somehow get rid of it.

This book will not let you get bored. Events follow one after another. Victoria makes mistakes, gets angry, but never gives up. She's fun to watch and easy to care about.

I can't say that this is an easy, thoughtless book. A couple of moments make us think deeply about the dark side of our soul, which is superbly shown in the unity of two god brothers: the correct Iriy and the rogue Vadiya. Much has been said about the collision of the feminine and masculine in one body. The ability to overcome oneself runs through the entire book as a golden thread. For the heroine, nothing comes easy. She must win everything back with her teeth.

And even though “Konta” also has a second part, the ending did not disappoint. There is a fateful battle, and a difficult choice, for which Victoria paid dearly. I, of course, will go looking for a second book to once again plunge into this rich world, after which I want to jump up and start acting.

Practical psychology. Comte Irina Uspenskaya

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Title: Practical psychology. Comte

About the book “Practical Psychology. Comte" Irina Uspenskaya

Imagine that a woman of deep Balzac age suddenly finds herself in the body of a young, strong and passionate man. I can't wrap my head around it! Writer Irina Uspenskaya believes that everything is possible. Her book “Practical Psychology. Comte" is about just such a case.

This is an intriguing, impressive, thought-provoking story. Read about how lucky (or unlucky) an elderly lady was to please the female half of book lovers.

The idea of ​​this story is bright and juicy. A certain Victoria from our reality lived to be fifty years old, and then had a heart attack. It’s too early to die, so the gods decided to give her a second chance. Moreover, she has already made a profit in her body and managed to do all sorts of things. Brutal, difficult, worked for a long time in the authorities, therefore she knows a lot of things and can do a lot of things, including punching someone in the face, if necessary. That’s why she was given a second chance to live, but her body was not. And they have determined a different time for life.

And our Victoria ended up in the Middle Ages in the body of a disgraced bastard - a handsome young man with a strong desire for women. What to do? Adapt to new realities, because there is no turning back.

Irina Uspenskaya came up with a funny story in which the mother of three adult sons becomes a 24-year-old guy. And medieval guys are no match for our modern ones. Brutal, cruel and intemperate. Moreover, he is the illegitimate son of a disgraced king. The guy loves to break the necks of his enemies, kill everyone who stands in his way, and love girls without their asking. Moreover, he “loves” them several times a day. Yes, poor Victoria received a “good” inheritance. Now we have to play a role so as not to be found out.

Anyone who knows history is no stranger to the events described in the book. It is known that the feudal system was not distinguished by humanity. Irina Uspenskaya quite realistically describes all the “delights” of slavery, wars, and nomadic lifestyle. They want to kill the main character, which is not surprising, given his lifestyle and behavior.

The author perfectly conveys the atmosphere of the world, the feelings and experiences of the characters. There is a place for bloody scenes and violence. Cruelty and passionate scenes fill the book. The main character remains a woman trapped in a man's body. How long will it last? You will find out when you read.

The novel “Practical Psychology. Comte" will give you the opportunity to enjoy a wonderful storytelling style and a fascinating plot. Great option for a weekend!

On our website about books you can download the site for free without registration or read online the book “Practical Psychology. Kont" Irina Uspenskaya in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.

Quotes from the book “Practical Psychology. Comte" Irina Uspenskaya

Only two words were spinning in Victoria’s head – a small, nimble, incredibly beautiful northern animal and a fallen woman. What more can be said? If she were a stallion, she would probably be proud of herself.

Mrs. Vavilova did not believe in either angels or devils. I didn’t believe it all fifty years of my life. But they believed in it, or maybe they just got bored. As a result, the woman’s soul went to another world, where the late Middle Ages reign, where the words honor and loyalty still mean something, where friendship and betrayal go side by side, and where the lives of many depend on the decisions of one. Victoria Viktorovna was ready to cope with any problem, except for one. Her soul ended up in the body of the disgraced bastard of the last king, Count Alan Wallid, and this Count was a gift: he killed, raped, and robbed. And in general a man, by the way. Now try to exist in a male body, possessing a female soul!.. But in vain those who gave her this chance think that they can control this restless soul. Ha! Naive!

A series: Practical psychology

* * *

by liters company.

The brothers came to the new world, looked around and got down to business.

Iriy created meadows and fields, and Vadiy created inaccessible mountains and swampy swamps.

Seeing this, Iriy created the seas, and Vadiy threw a handful of salt into them, and the water became undrinkable.

II Song of Life

Victoria didn't sleep. She sat on the bed and stared at the flickering light of a single candle burning in an iron candelabrum. My head was literally swollen with thoughts. I wanted to squeeze my temples with my palms and howl.

What kind of complete scoundrel do you have to be to kill your father in cold blood like that? To systematically beat servants, abuse slaves, rape peasant women? Now she understands the fear that periodically flashes in Bert’s eyes. Count Alan ordered a slave to be hanged just because a weasel climbed into the poultry house and dragged away one hen. Psycho. No wonder his own wife is afraid of him.

Unpleasant feeling. It's like you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. And now she has to live with it.

– Wherever you are now, Alan Wallid, I wish you to burn in hell and that the devils tear a small piece from you with red-hot tongs!

But does it exist, this hell? Victoria frowned. She remembered her previous life perfectly, but what happened after death disappeared from her memory. There are only a few words left on a yellow sheet of paper: “It’s better to live than just die. Breathe, do crazy things, not being afraid to die, because now I know for sure that death is not the end. But how boring it is there!” She also didn’t remember when she wrote this, but she had no reason not to trust herself.

Yes, after death you wouldn’t wish it on your enemy. The body of a self-confident, cruel, selfish, selfish scumbag. One plus is that you don’t need to create an image. But everything else is cons.

Ray and Nanni finally told the new account the truth. And now Victoria was painfully wondering what to do with this truth. She jumped to her feet and hobbled around the room, scattering the mice rustling in the straw. It was easier to think that way.

The country of Galendas, where she was brought after her death, consisted of scattered independent territories with constantly changing outlines. The boundaries between possessions were very unstable, especially in the mountains and forests. Lands, like slaves, could be sold, given, exchanged, taken away and conquered. The king was the supreme overlord for everyone. The country had uniform systems of measures, lengths and calculations. Gold coins were printed only by the royal mint, silver and copper by the Temple monasteries. In most of the world, two gods were worshiped - the light Iriy and the dark Vadiy. And only the highlanders and islanders adhered to the ancient religion and believed in the spirits of their ancestors, and the Druids communicated with the spirits of nature.

Judging by Ray's stories, Count Wallid Sr. was married to a beautiful woman. Very beautiful. Fate was strange. The conte had no children, and the king was a young, childless widower, for whom they were looking for another suitable bride among the neighboring princesses. At that time, the lands of the konta were several hours' drive from the capital. Balls, hunts, feasts... The king was known as a womanizer and, naturally, could not pass by the beautiful contessa. Their romance lasted almost a year, after which the woman realized that she was pregnant. When she was at the beginning of her term, the king died - he simply drowned in the river to the delight of his enemies.

The Vicar of the Temple saved the country from civil war. His Eradicators arrested all the troublemakers in one night, got rid of the dissatisfied, and placed a regent on the throne - a distant relative of the king, a three-year-old boy suffering from feeblemindedness. Several years ago, an agreement was concluded with a neighboring state on the marriage of the regent with the youngest princess. Now they waited until the bride turned sixteen years old, because according to the laws of her country, a girl became an adult at sixteen, and not at fourteen, as in Galendas.

In fact, since then the country has been ruled by the Viceroy.

One of those ancient days, Comte Wallid was summoned to the palace. No one knows what happened there, but within 24 hours the conte gathered people loyal to him, slaves, loaded his belongings onto carts, and loaded the king’s wife, pregnant with the king’s bastard, into a carriage, and the long convoy headed towards the sea. Count Wallid's new lands were larger than his previous possessions, and many perceived this as a favor from the regent. But Comte always told faithful Ray that this was a link. The frontier was never a place to go voluntarily.

In due time, the contessa gave birth to a healthy, strong boy, with a distinctive feature of the royal family - jet-black hair, rare for this continent, and dark gray, almost black eyes. Those who saw the king immediately noticed the undeniable resemblance. But Count Wallid made sure that there were as few of them as possible. Two. Viscount Ray Silent's faithful nanny and Nanny's nurse, who later became the comte's mistress. Alan's mother died under mysterious circumstances when he was six months old. They said that she was poisoned, but Nanni did not believe it. The contessa loved life too much. Now, after the death of the old conte, three people knew about the secret of Alan’s birth - he, or rather Victoria, who was in his body, Ray and Nanny.

- Crap! I have every right to the royal throne. Do I need it?

Victoria thought about it. Power is a huge responsibility and a huge challenge. And the freedom it gives is just an illusion. So let's forget. For the time being. Because something told her that she wouldn’t be allowed to forget about it completely. No, it must be... the bastard of the last king. The gods decided to play a joke. Victoria stopped in front of the embroidery room, which was white in the darkness.

– I wonder which of you is writing the litory of my life? This is your job, isn't it? “She pointed her finger at the image of Vadiy.

God remained silent. Only the beads on the hilt of his sword flickered in the uneven light.

Today will be the first time she leaves the room. It's scary. The woman involuntarily delayed this moment until the last. This room became a kind of refuge, a den where Victoria hid from her new life. She hid like a frightened rabbit in a hole. But you can't hide forever. We need to live. It is impossible to delay going out into the world any longer. And so rumors spread throughout the castle about the young master’s obsession. You'll have to keep your eyes open and watch yourself so as not to reveal your incompetence.

Comte, hugging himself by the shoulders, sat down on the bed and stared blankly out the window. There, outside the window, lay a new world. How will he meet a soul alien to him? Will he accept?

- Convoy! I see the convoy! Horsemen and carts! – there was a scream muffled by the thick walls.

There was silence, only to be filled with many sounds a moment later. The low howling bark-cry of the Tau, the neighing of horses, screams and the tramp of shod boots along the corridor behind the wall. Victoria jumped to her feet and stood hesitant. My heart was pounding loudly against my ribs, my hands were shaking, my mouth was dry, and the air suddenly became viscous. She rushed to the door, but her outstretched hand froze over the massive forged handle. What to do? What if it's an attack? What can she do? She never... Or maybe it’s better to wait it out?

Leave it alone! This is your castle! These are your lands and your people! You have never been a coward! What do you have to lose? It’s just life, and now it’s not scary to die, because you know: after death there is also existence. So what scares you, Vavilova? Tell yourself honestly. You are afraid of not being able to cope, you are afraid of people’s distrust and hatred, of loneliness. You are afraid to succumb to the male body and lose your essence, to forget who you were before, to dissolve in Comte Alan Wallid, to become what he was. What absurd fears! Send them away and live! You will never know what you are capable of until you try to live. After all, death is also a kind of adventure.

Comte bared his teeth, they banged on the door, and it swung open, letting in Bert, loaded with a pile of clothes, and a red-haired girl with a basin and a jug. Victoria remembered that she was wearing only a black silk robe over her naked body, and was delighted at Bert’s insight.

“Good morning, Kir Alan,” the servant bowed. - I'll help you get dressed. There is a merchant train at the gate. They come from the Thumb. The goods were brought for exchange and sale. Ray is waiting for you.

Here you go. Began.

- How many people? What product? - Alan asked abruptly, rinsing himself with cold water over a basin, which the red-haired maid was pouring on his palm.

– Kir Alan, don’t be angry! I immediately hurried to you. – Bert fell to his knees and bowed his head.

What is this? Victoria just took a thick, bitter tincture into her mouth, which replaced toothpaste here. It whitened teeth perfectly, removed plaque and eliminated bad breath. But it took a long time to keep it in her mouth, so while she carefully rinsed her mouth, counting to sixty, the servant remained on his knees, bowing his head.

- Bert! – she growled in the booming voice of a comte, spitting into the basin. “Once again you’ll fall to your knees, when I’m standing here in front of you almost naked and freezing, you’ll...” Victoria thought for a moment, she didn’t know what the word “push-ups” sounds like in the local language, “...you’ll put your hands on the floor until you collapse!” “Get out of here,” she turned to the frightened sobbing girl.

The red-haired maid squeaked and, picking up the basin, ran out of the room. So what did she say again? Victoria raised her eyes to the ceiling, and then looked menacingly at the servant.

Bert listened and quickly began to put local clothes on the man. A shirt and narrow underpants made of thin bleached cloth, stockings that were attached to the pants with strings, a woolen fitted shirt with laces, black trousers with stripes, leather armor on top consisting of a shell and a skirt, high boots.

The picture was completed by a baldric with a sword.

- Well, why do I need a sword? Lean on it instead of a cane? – the commander muttered in Russian. - Enough with the dagger. And the armor is too much, it won’t protect you from an arrow, it’ll just put the weight on your ribs. Shoot!

Bert tried to object, but Comte was adamant. So he went out into the street in a black jacket made of thick fabric, reminiscent of a tarpaulin, with one dagger on his belt.

“Ray will swear,” Bert put forward his final argument, opening the door for the comte.

Victoria chuckled to herself. “If only you knew, boy, that for me a sword is just an iron stick.” But she knows how to use a dagger... More precisely, she knew how...A bow or a crossbow are also familiar objects, but a sword... But she will have to somehow explain to Ray why the comte suddenly forgot which side to take up the weapon. All hope remained in the memory of the body.

They walked out into the corridor, which Victoria instantly recognized as a masterpiece of minimalism - bare stone walls, the entire decoration of which consisted of rare torches and warriors frozen at the doors. One of them opened the door in front of the conte, leading to a small room, from which the servant and master found themselves on a stone spiral staircase. Victoria drew attention to the massive door; if necessary, it could be strengthened with a thick oak beam and locked with iron bolts, blocking access from the stairs to the living quarters. In the event of an attack on the donjon, this will give an advantage to the defenders. Because knocking down such a door, being in a room three by three meters, is very problematic. True, the defenders also fell into a trap.

- Bert, remind me how many floors are in the donjon? – the comte asked as they went downstairs.

Half of the words had to be shown with signs; nevertheless, the vocabulary was still small. It’s good that some of the words sounded similar to Czech, which Victoria shamelessly used, thus finding out from Bert the meaning of this or that word.

“A basement with a well and a prison, then a utility floor, there is also a guard barracks, on the second there are master bedrooms, on the third there are guest rooms, and no one lives above,” Bert began to bend his fingers. “Ray places archers there in case of an attack.”

They went outside. Comte took in the cool, salt-smelling air of the night with pleasure. The sky was just beginning to brighten, shadows lay everywhere, slightly dispersed by the uneven light of the torches. Loaded carts drove into the courtyard through the open gates. From all sides there were screams, neighing, howling tau, whips whistled, wheels creaked, and above all this cacophony flew the clear voice of a rooster singing a hymn to a new day.

- Carts to the backyard! Horses to the corral! Lock the slaves in the barn! Move, spiritual spawn, so that Vadiy can clean you up!

– Who saw the Eradicating brothers? Our xen is looking for them!

-Where are you going?

- Unfold, unfold!

– Hurry up, scrapers of the dark!

-Where is the captain? How much tax should merchants take for travel?

Yeah. Funny. Victoria looked around curiously. Wow! Yes, this is a whole village behind high walls. A large area was fenced off by a massive fortress wall, resting on the steep cliffs overhanging the castle. The castle itself was a square donjon, near which they now stood, and a two-story building attached to it. Above the fortress wall, not far from the gate, a dark watchtower rose high, towering tens of meters above the rest of the buildings. The stone-lined courtyard now resembled a bustling market square. Along the rocks there were outbuildings, cattle pens, stone houses of varying heights, covered with red tiles. From one of them floated the nostril-tickling smell of fresh bread. Everything is solid, without excess, built thoroughly and to last. A little to the side, surrounded by a luxurious flower garden, visible even in the pre-dawn twilight, a small round house proudly sparkled with its pointed roof. Temple. I wonder if the Caller sleeps there?

“Good morning, Kir Alan,” said the insinuating voice of the xenus behind him.

“Remember the devil,” Victoria thought, slowly turning to the smiling man. Somehow he is too kind today, this is clearly not without reason.

– Good morning, brother Caller. How did you sleep, did you have any nightmares?

“I wasn’t dreaming about you,” the xenon couldn’t resist replying. “The Exterminators are following with the convoy, I took the liberty of inviting the brothers to the morning meal.

Victoria felt an unpleasant twinge in the pit of her stomach. What is the local Inquisition doing here? But she pulled herself together.

– I’ll be happy to talk to them.

– I have no doubt about it. I think that none of the brothers will refuse to accept the secret of confession from you,” the xen added maliciously. “And then with great joy we will celebrate a joint Mass for your happy recovery.” “Or for the repose of your soul,” read the eyes of the Caller. – You will come to the service today, won’t you?

- Without a doubt. But in the future, xen, don’t show... - Victoria wanted to say “initiative,” but this word was not in her vocabulary yet, “haste, it is punishable,” she finished with a threat in a thick male voice.

- Kir Alan! – Ray’s booming bass prevented the beginning scandal. – Brother Caller, bless you for a happy day! “The giant bowed low before the xenos, and Victoria was once again amazed at his height. “Thurid, rather than stand around doing nothing, you should take the Eradicating brothers to the soap shop.” Their carts got stuck in the mud at the Big Finger, everyone had to pull, so the xenos these days are like Vadiya’s grimy spirits,” he laughed. - Bert, show me off, while Kir Alan and I will sort things out alone.

The caller threw an angry look at him, but remained silent, turned around and quickly followed Bert.

– How do you manage to command him? – Alan asked Ray with respect in his voice.

– Who in their right mind would argue with the one to whom the warriors obey? – Ray was sincerely surprised, jumping onto a large boulder. - But explain to me, my lord, why... you are without a sword? The sword is the symbol of a nobleman, it is honor at the tip of the blade, it is your valor and courage... - Kont rolled his eyes, and Ray realized that it was useless to appeal to a person with such an expression on his face. The captain shook his head reproachfully, pressed his hands to his mouth like a mouthpiece and screamed. So much so that Alan recoiled. Ray's low bass ricocheted into the rocks, reflected off them and returned a hundredfold amplified. – Everyone gather and welcome the new commander Wallid, our master and protector!

“Why are you yelling like that,” the commander shook his finger in his ear. - You can scream until there’s a collapse.

“No,” the giant waved his hand carefreely. – There’s nothing to collapse here. All the stones from the surrounding rocks were removed to build the castle.

He held out a thick gold chain on which hung a large, cigarette-pack-sized pentagon with the image of two crossed keys.

“Here, put it on so people can see who’s boss in the Blood now.”

Victoria weighed the chain in the man's large palm. Heavy. She smiled and placed the symbol of power around her neck, over her jacket. It looked funny, such an expensive thing decorating a quilted padded jacket, but Ray did not laugh, and the woman also remained silent, imbued with the solemnity of the moment.

People began to gather in the courtyard in front of the donjon. The warriors - Victoria counted twenty-nine people - lined up in an uneven line, with servants standing next to them in a sullen crowd. Among them stood out a tall, strong woman with large breasts provocatively protruding from a deep semicircular neckline. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and looked at the conte with open hostility. Over her dress she wore a white apron with many pockets. Three young women in similar aprons and white scarves pulled over their eyes huddled close to her. Bert was hovering near them. The druida stood apart from everyone else. Her attentive gaze made me feel uneasy. The slaves, guarded by two warriors, stood behind everyone. There were many of them. More than servants. Men, women, children. Only the old people were missing. They all have the same gray clothes without belts and the same expression in their eyes. Fear.

– Count Sani Wallid is dead, long live Count Alan Wallid! - Ray barked.

- Hello! Hello! Hello! - they shouted back, as it seemed to Victoria, - without much enthusiasm.

– Castle Blood welcomes its new owner and vows to serve him until the last drop of blood!

- We swear! We swear! We swear!

- Conta's word! – one of the soldiers shouted.

Ray easily pushed the konta towards the stone. At the first moment, Victoria was embarrassed under the gaze of many eyes, but quickly managed to pull herself together.

“I accept your oath and, for my part, I promise to take care of the castle and my people.”

Judging by Ray's pleased face, she managed not to screw up. That's where we parted ways. Meanwhile, it began to get light, the slaves extinguished the torches, and now the entire courtyard was drowned in a light haze, giving everything a certain volatility. The sharp and rough outlines of massive buildings disappeared, it seemed that everything around froze for a moment in anticipation of the first rays of the sun, which was about to appear from behind the mountains.

– Ray, where did the castle get its name? - Alan asked curiously when the people returned to their business.

“Your father used to say that enemies will wash themselves in blood trying to take this castle.”

“And they will burst into tears,” the comte nodded.

- Do you remember? That's exactly what the old commander said. He wanted to name the castle “Bloody Tears,” but the contessa dissuaded him. But there is another reason. Don't you remember?

Comte shook his head negatively.

“Then we need to wait a little.”

Victoria looked at a group of bearded men, accompanied by three children, leisurely heading towards them. Ray whistled. A few minutes later they were joined by a warrior who brought two slave boys, about twelve years old, whose entire clothing consisted of tattered pants and wide leather collars with loops for chains. Victoria looked at them in surprise.

- What are you doing here?

“So there are children there,” the warrior answered for the slaves. - And you can’t stand children, sir.

“These are whipping boys, kir,” Ray reminded him. – You won’t beat the children of your trading partners.

- Should I hit them? – Victoria was confused, not immediately understanding what we were talking about.

Ray looked at the comte with suspicion. Oh shit! Did she refer to herself as feminine? How unlucky the xenus was that he didn’t hear this! So the saint would have a reason to accuse Comte of obsession. No, you need to stop thinking of yourself as a woman. Now she is a man and should behave accordingly.

“That’s usually what you do, kir,” Ray grinned, holding out a whip with a weighted end. Victoria automatically took it.

Yes, this can cut the back of an adult, not to mention a skinny teenager! She turned to the boys, under her gaze the children cowered, and the woman’s soul went into a silent scream. One of the boys looked so much like her middle son as a child that her throat tightened. The same unruly curls on top of the head, flaxen hair, freckled nose. And the same prickly look of blue eyes from under white, faded eyebrows. Even her toes are exactly the same as her Sanka’s. Not understanding what she was doing, she dropped the whip, fell on her knees in front of the boy and hugged him to her. How are her boys doing? The child twitched in fear, and a tear ran down his cheek.

Badly! How bad she feels! It is impossible to erase this from the heart, just as it is impossible not to remember, not to love. She would go crazy if her sons were children now. And so they are adults, independent people, they will not disappear. Loving women are with them. Her men are friendly, they will not leave each other and their father. You need to pull yourself together. We need to live here and now and save at least these boys from the likes of Viscount Wallid.

Comte slowly pulled away from the frightened child and rose heavily to his feet.

- It's okay, Ray. Just weakness.

– I wonder what kind of weakness this is? – the sarcastic voice of the xenos rang out, and he proudly walked past, accompanied by two silent monks with their hoods pulled low over their faces. – You need to go to church more often, then such there will be no weakness.

Victoria wanted to answer, but the xenos had already disappeared around the corner of the barn, and the Summoner had the last word.

“You seem dizzy, my lord, from the fresh air.” I lay there for so long in the stuffiness without moving on the broth alone, where did the strength come from? You need to eat meat and bread and drink wine so that the blood is renewed,” Ray muttered, making a protective sign for Vadiya after the xenians, “but instead you are running along the street almost naked. This slob Bert will get it from me... And you still have to create an heir, in case something important happens...

“Ray, don’t start,” the comte groaned, barely holding back his laughter. - Everything is fine with me. Don't make a fuss.

The old nanny did not believe it and developed a vigorous activity. He sent the boys for a stool and water, forced the conte to sit down, drink sour wine from a clay flask that hung on his belt, and he himself took a generous sip of it. For some reason he felt his forehead and shook his head. Then he cast a suspicious glance at the frightened slaves, lingering on their faces, looking slyly from under bushy light eyebrows, and asked:

“My lord, what did Bert do to you that you promised to put him in a doggy style position and beat him until he lost consciousness?”

- What? Who told you such nonsense? - the commander jumped up.

– Red Elsa was talking in the kitchen. Like, I myself heard how the owner threatened that he would put Bert on the floor with his hands, well, force him...

- Idiot! - the comte growled, while Ray laughed loudly. - Fuck you! “It’s not surprising that the xen makes dirty hints; apparently, he’s also heard enough of this babble.” - Order him to kick the fool in the ass so that she doesn’t spread gossip. That’s how they’ll make it blue,” he muttered barely audibly under his breath.

The merchants respectfully waited on the sidelines until the comte deigned to pay attention to them. And Victoria glanced in their direction and asked the question that had been tormenting her for a long time:

– Ray, who is in charge of the castle household, the treasury, and the servants?

– Until now, your father has been doing this himself. And while you were lying unconscious, Nanni, Raika and I were busy with business.

- And Contessa Litina?

- What are you saying, kir Alan! “Ray took out a carrot from somewhere, wiped it on his pants and handed it to the conte. - How can you burden your lady with such questions?

– Isn’t this the main concern of a housewife - to keep order in her home? – Kont shook his head negatively, refusing the treat. Ray shrugged philosophically and popped the source of carotene into his mouth. “Okay, I’ll talk to my wife myself,” Alan sighed, “and you deal with the merchants, and I’m waiting for you with reports.” And one more thing... Do we have gold?

Victoria froze. Now it turns out that the Blood has been re-mortgaged ten times, creditors are at the doorstep, and this morning the last rooster was slaughtered. However, Ray waved his hand nonchalantly.

- And gold, and silver, and copper. Enough for now. There’s nowhere to spend it here on the frontier anyway.

Well, she'll fix that quickly. If only there was money, there would always be somewhere to spend it. Victoria smiled contentedly. Ray waved his hand to the merchants and, calling the piebald tau sleeping at the threshold with a whistle, headed towards the carts.

Comte turned to the boys.

- What is your name?

“I am Olt, and this is Tur, he is mute,” one of them answered.

So, Tour. Curly-haired blue-eyed boy. At least not call him Sanka. He looks attentively, without fear, but with some kind of doomed melancholy.

- He hears? – asked the cont.

“He hears,” Olt muttered, looking at the ground. “He was born normal, but his owner cut out his tongue.”

- I? – the comte whispered in horror.

Victoria would not be at all surprised by this; today she learned so many “interesting” things about the recipient that if she had gotten her hands on him, she would have torn him into small pieces.

“No, the previous one,” the boy said gloomily. - They already bought it without the tongue.

To be honest, Victoria felt enormous relief. The woman could not even imagine how she could live among these people if she were involved in this terrible act. “We need to check the prison,” a thought flashed through my head. - Necessarily. Today".

“The owner was a monster,” Olt blurted out after a moment of silence, as if gathering his courage.

- How are you talking? “The warrior stepped forward and slapped the boy with a resounding slap, causing him to fall to the ground.

At the same instant, the man flew to the side, literally blown away by a powerful blow to the jaw. Victoria looked at her fist in surprise. Nevermind, as her youngest said. What a strength! She might be starting to like this body!

– Don’t you dare hit children! – she barked at the warrior, on whose cheekbone a red spot was filling with blue. - Don’t be insolent! – she turned to the boy, who was looking at the guard with delight and gloating. “Otherwise you and Bert will rest your hands on the floor,” she added threateningly.

Victoria knew that it was impossible to spoil children, they would immediately sense weakness and sit on the neck instantly, and we don’t need that. But she won’t allow children to be bullied either.

- Tur, bring Bert to me. And you, Olt, gather all the children. Yes, get dressed and take off these... jewelry.

Ray, hearing the noise, turned his head, preparing to run to save his warrior from the wrath of his pupil, but when he saw that the commander was not going to skin the guard who had upset him, he relaxed. Alan is a strange guy. It's like they changed it. When I woke up, I never asked for girls, I didn’t go down to the torture room, I almost didn’t drink intoxicating wine. He mastered reading and writing, although they couldn’t force him to do it before. And he himself became reserved and attentive. Did responsibility really affect him that much? Who was he before? Second after dad. As the old friend says, so it will be. So he was furious, he didn’t like to obey since childhood. And now everything belonged to him. He is the rightful owner of the Blood, and he also learned that he can lay claim to the throne. It probably changed the guy. Obligations to people and gods make you think. Ray knew this from himself. Just wait for the heir of the Wallid family, and you can die in peace. “I fulfilled your order, Cyrene Xana. Raised your son. Forgive me if something is wrong. When we meet, you will tell me, my precious lady.”

There were few children. Only eight people. Two girls, the rest boys. Olt and Tur turned out to be the eldest. Fourteen-year-olds were already considered adults, and Olt did not invite them. Two more boys drove the horses into the night. The children lined up in front of the commander sitting on a stone, looking fearfully at the warrior standing next to him. One girl, tightly clutching Olt's shirt, could barely contain her sobs. The tour stood a little away from everyone. To be honest, Victoria expected the worst. She saw slaves in her life. I had to. And I was very afraid to meet emaciated, downtrodden children with dead eyes. These could still be saved.

- Hello. Here I thought that I would need educated servants in the future. I want you to be taught to read and write.

Comte fell silent. The children looked at each other in fear, only Olt, who, apparently, was the ringleader, timidly asked:

– Is this to sell us at a higher price?

- No. This is to be surrounded by smart people. I promise that I won’t sell any of you if you promise me that too.

Then the girl, who until now could barely restrain her sobs, could not stand it and burst into tears loudly, choking on tears and air, howling and covering her mouth with her hands.

“Her mother was possessed by the spirits of Wadia. Those who exterminated her took her,” Olt muttered, hugging the girl to himself. - They burned it. Because she knew how to read,” he whispered very quietly, stroking his girlfriend’s head.

And what should I say to these children? Who will return the little slave's mother? Who will restore their faith in people? How can they trust Count Wallid, who in their eyes personifies the worst that is in people? This will be the most difficult thing - gaining the trust of children. Adults can adapt, cheat, lie, pretend, but children are pure from the very beginning, they sense falsehood. And if they believe, they cannot be let down. Children will never forgive or understand. Count Wallid extended his hands.

- Come to me, baby. Go, don't be afraid.

The girl grabbed Olt and shook her head. And then Tur, who had been watching the comte carefully, without a hint of a smile, did something that no one expected from him. He approached the girl, took her hand and led her to the sitting man. He looked firmly into the eyes of the commander. Victoria seemed to be pierced by lightning, that stern look was so unchildish. The boy peered into the gray eyes for a long time, and then smiled a little and placed the small hand of the tear-stained girl in the large palm of the gloomy man. Comte nodded to him, Tur quietly walked away and again stood aside from the other children.

“Baby, look at me,” Victoria said quietly, stroking the girl’s head. - Everything that happened to you was in the past. I can’t bring your mother back, but now she looks down on you and is proud of her girl. Remember her, and she, wherever she is, will remember you. – The girl sobbed, fell silent, buried her eyes in the ground, only occasionally her thin shoulders shuddered. Just a baby, about seven years old, no older.

“Speak seditious speeches, kir Alan,” a quiet voice was heard, and one of the Eradicating brothers came out from around the corner of the barn. “The possessed woman rots in the lower world and cannot look from heaven. Worms devour her flesh, evil birds peck out her eyes, and this torment, to the joy of Vadiy, lasts forever.

“Don’t listen to him,” the conte whispered in the girl’s ear, “he got everything mixed up.” “I swear,” he raised his voice, “that no one in Castle Blood will be sold again unless he wants it himself.” You belong to me - Cont Alan Wallid, and I don’t abandon mine. And you think about my proposal, tomorrow we will meet again, and you will tell us what you decided. And now - shoo!

The children disappeared instantly, only Tur lingered for a second and cast a strange look at the friend. It seemed to Victoria that hope flickered in him, flickered and went out.

Who said it would be easy? Nobody.

– When did you go to confession, Kir Alan? – the visiting xen said softly.

– I don’t remember, brother Eradicator. After the blow to the head I had complete memory loss.

– How do you know where souls go after death?

- Is this a secret? My father told me! - Sorry, old comte, but you died, and we still want to live.

- How did he know about this?

- What, is this a secret?

– For the servants of Iria, no, but nobles are usually not interested in such matters.

– How do you manage to keep people in obedience?

– The temple should bring faith to the masses, and not intimidate parishioners.

“Oh, don’t tell me stories, Brother Eradicator,” Count Vallid grinned, leaning his back on the stone. The sun had just appeared from behind the mountains and was now reflecting off the red rock, filling the courtyard with ruby-colored reflections, it seemed that the castle was drenched in blood. That's what Ray was talking about. Beautiful. – If the people are not frightened by the torment of the world of Vadiya and are not promised the blessings of the world of Iriy, then how can they be kept within the framework of God’s commandments?

– Do you no longer believe in respect and love for God? – Xenu was clearly curious to communicate with the commander.

“I don’t believe it, Brother Eradicator.” This is what I am... an unbeliever... - I wonder what “skeptic” sounds like in the local language? The vocabulary was sorely lacking. – People must be mistaken and afraid, then there is a chance to force them to do what you need.

“You have an interesting view of faith, Kir Alan.” I would love to continue our conversation in a more comfortable environment.

- I hope not in my torture chamber? – the commander joked ambiguously.

- Oh no. Not yet,” the xen smiled meekly. The hood hid his face, and only his lips and the oval of his shaved chin could be seen.

Victoria Viktorovna studied rhetoric at the university and could talk for hours about nothing. A very useful habit, by the way. Helped me out more than once in my life. So let's talk. Grinding with your tongue is not moving bags. And what can the inhabitants of this world oppose to the knowledge of the dugouts of the twenty-first century? Will it really not be discarded? Yes, easily! The morals here are simple, the people are uncomplicated, and it’s unlikely that anyone will be seriously surprised by the Comte’s behavior. Especially after being injured. What is the demand from a sick person? They won't burn him at the stake for small deviations from the norm?

Victoria grinned smugly to herself, not yet knowing how much she was mistaken.

There was a creaking sound and the sound of pebbles rolling down the slope. The woman raised her head. A stone was flying straight at her. Big. Very big. Huge. And who claimed that there are no landslides here? Victoria rushed to the side, but did not calculate the size of her current body, the stone slightly touched her shoulder, and she fell, catching on an unevenness on the ground. Sighing with relief, she began to rise, not thinking that there might be more than one stone. Along the way, the cobblestone took with it several smaller pebbles in flight; with a slight rustle, they flew off the cliff in bulk, and one of them hit the comte’s long-suffering head. Devil!

- Killed! Killed! The exterminator killed the master! – she also heard the cry of red-haired Elsa. The girl’s voice sounded suspiciously joyful, and Victoria wanted to crack this noisy splinter with something heavy, but the day disappeared and a starless night fell.

* * *

The given introductory fragment of the book Practical psychology. Comte (Irina Uspenskaya, 2015) provided by our book partner -

“Ivert owes Kont another life,” the xen laughed to himself as he boarded the small ship. And if he understands anything about the Highlanders, Alan is in for a surprise.

Victoria watched as the boat, carrying Alvis's brother on board, moved away from the shore. Her son and secretary were basking in the sun on a nearby rock. Viscount-peasant and slave-duke. The boys who replaced her family, left somewhere on a distant Earth. Alien world, alien sun, alien body.

Two months have passed since her soul was thrown into this world, into the body of the disgraced bastard of the last king - Count Alan Wallid. And it feels like several years have passed. The shock of realizing that after many years of existence as a woman, after marriage, the birth of three sons, death, visiting a place terribly reminiscent of biblical purgatory, she woke up as a man - was replaced by a stubborn desire to survive. Survive all enemies in spite! Survive and be happy!

She turned her gaze to Ivert. Another headache. Falling in love with this green-eyed man. A very strange love. Obsession. Even in her worst dream, she could not think that at her age she could fall in love with a man whom she had seen for only a few minutes. Beaten, dying, unknown. The enemy. A man who until now remained a mystery to her and whom she did not know at all. Secretive, unnoticed, wary. Even now she could not say what kind of Ivert he really was. Even Brother Eradicator, with his secrets and intrigues, was more understandable to her than this mountaineer. How could this happen? Has the youthful body effect really worked? Although... after a conversation with the local gods, suspicions began to creep in that Iriy could not have done it here without her. This love was too unexpected and atypical for her. And Iriy really wanted her to return to a woman’s body.

Crap! Shooter! There wasn't enough time to scream...

Uh! How painful! May they pick you up and slam you down! Ray said that he placed his people on the rocks! Where are these people? Yeah! They have appeared! Zar-zara!

Ivert, fish out the corpse. We need to see who it is. Daren, don't turn pale! Let's take out the arrow in the castle, let it stick out for now. Come here, I will lean on you.

Everything happened instantly, she did not have time to warn the highlander, and there was simply nowhere to push him out of the arrow’s flight path. There are fragments of rocks around, a fall on which would lead to death more surely than an arrow hitting the shoulder. It was because of the rocks in these places that not a single ship could moor to the shore. Only a boat, and even then not every boat, had a chance to pass through the narrow passage between the piles of stones. But even such a bay was a gift from Iriy. Almost the entire coast was covered by high mountains extending into the water, and only in a few places it was possible to approach the shore. Victoria finally managed to unravel the mystery of the Templar mail. Letters were delivered to them by sea, which is much faster than sending a messenger on horseback.

Thank you Alvis. The first thing she saw was a bow in the xen’s hands, and only then, following his gaze, she noticed an archer standing on the rock. The body did the rest itself, without the participation of the brain. It’s okay, now we’ll slowly get to the castle, and there...

... “and there” Victoria no longer remembered. The body, weakened by previous injuries, decided that another hole was too much, and turned off the light as soon as they stepped onto the path leading to Linh Castle.

Victoria opened her eyes and sat up carefully. There was a large blood stain left on the sheet. The tight bandage on her shoulder was soaked in blood and hampered her movements, but she had no intention of swinging a sword any time soon, so she accepted another wound as a necessary evil. Against the backdrop of everything she had to go through, these were little things. It just wouldn't hurt to bandage it.

After Iwert carried the Count's unconscious body out of the torture room, Alan lay unconscious for five days, and then lay in bed for another ten years, healing his burns and numerous injuries.

Sometimes the comte came to his senses in order to see with a dull gaze the faithful Bert sitting by the bed and drink the bitter decoction that the Eradicator personally prepared for him. One day, in such a short moment of enlightenment, the comte demanded to be taken to Nanni to say goodbye.

Victoria didn’t remember any of this. She did not see how brother Turid, who arrived from the Blood, released Nanni’s spirit, accepting from Bert a red candle lit from the funeral pyre. The interrogations and executions of the conspirators took place without contact. Without him, brother Alvis sent soldiers to look for the daughters of the commander. They brought only one, the second was too small, and the mother did not give it away. When Alan once again regained consciousness, the Eradicator asked if he wanted to recognize his daughter? Victoria vaguely remembered the black-eyed girl, frightened and tearful, and her immediate consent. Only the girl’s name was too simple, and the count demanded that she be called Vasilisa. Why Vasilisa? And who knows what came to mind in the sick imagination, but the Eradicator agreed, and the girl was named in the local manner - Cyrene Vasily Viscountess Wallid. Victoria waved the papers with a trembling hand, vowing to herself to deal with everything when she felt better, and fell asleep safely, drinking Brother Alvis's tincture. Using his power, the Hand gave the girl in marriage to Lin’s son, after which he immediately sent Vasily to Blood, declaring that the first wedding night is possible only after the wife turns fourteen years old, but not before. No one contradicted him, and a few days later the new Baron Lin was found dead. He got poisoned. So the Viscountess became a baroness and a widow, and the castle legally passed to her father until he married his daughter again.

Tur then told the commander that Ray had disobeyed his master’s orders and did not let Kairat Lin die easily, and that the echo carried the baron’s screams across the mountains for several runs. He said that the captain forced the traitor Olika to watch the torment of her lover, and now she is awaiting the ruler's trial in the basement of the castle. He also told that the Eradicator personally prepared food for the cont, not allowing anyone to even touch the dishes, until Raika arrived from Blood, accompanied by Oska and Kus. Raika instantly lined up everyone - from Ray to the local cooks, the active jester found a cache of women's jewelry, and the tau bit Gihard Wedbear when he tried to go to the count's bedroom. Lin's slaves, after Oska described the prospects for them, all as one begged to leave them in the property of Wallid.

Victoria successfully missed all these events. But even when she came to her senses, she was faced with excessive concern from those around her. Raika and Ray joined forces and apparently decided to bring Kont to death through gluttony. As soon as you opened your eyes, Bert’s voice was heard:

Sir, Aunt Raika baked some fresh pies for you. For now, you will have a snack, and I will order the fish to be fried. Guichard's people went to sea.

Don't think about anything, Kir Alan. Now your intervention can only harm the investigation. Get well.

Or Ivert reported:

The witch asks for permission for his people to go to sea through the bay five days out of ten. I'll tell him your decision, don't get out of bed yourself.

Or Brother Caller reported:

Kir Alan, we have opened temples in your villages, and my Listeners have already held the first invocations. My replacement will arrive soon, but until you recover, I will not leave the Blood. Now I will do, as you say, an audit and will take the local Caller to help. He is a good man, Brother Uprooter checked him. Don't worry about anything, there are plenty of helpers.

Or Oska appeared:

Alan-balan, would you like me to sing you a song? And for that you will drink this vile tincture.

Victoria smiled, getting out of bed. It's all over now. She will leave Gray as governor of the castle, and he will also be the captain of the local garrison. All that remains is to discuss some issues with the mountaineers and decide which warrior to take into service. Alvis selected two dozen, but we need to take a look.

She managed to pull on her pants and boots, further aggravating the wound on her shoulder, when the door swung open and Ivert quickly entered the room. The highlander bent his head in a slight bow and clicked his tongue displeasedly:

Hey, Mad Alan, why are you up? Your wound opened, and Bert and Raika went to the sea. Sit down, I'll bandage it.

Ivert, without thinking twice, took off his shirt and quickly cut strips from it. Victoria, looking at his naked torso, began to protest, but, catching a condescending glance, decided that the highlander knew better what was wrong with her shoulder. Maybe it really is all tragic. She didn't feel any pain, but that didn't mean anything. Alvis left one of his vials for the cont. Very effective pain reliever. Ivert, quietly humming something, cut the bandage and threw the bloody rags on the floor.

You're lucky that you didn't take off your chain mail and the arrow went tangentially. The hole is small, the stitches are in place,” he said, after carefully examining the wound.

A few minutes later, the comte sat with a new bandage and a buttoned shirt, watching Ivert meticulously sort through the pies laid out in a heap on a dish. It was very pleasant and exciting to watch. Ivert, having finally chosen a pie, greedily took a bite of it and sucked on the jug of wine.