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32

“How glad I am,” Deya laughed happily, exposing her face to the rays of the sun. They hardly warmed, but it was still nice. The days were quite warm, sometimes during the day the snow even became sticky, and the children built entire snowy cities out of it, sculpted outlandish animals and monsters.

The brothers walked side by side, Aznar supported his wife by the elbow: Deya was so wrapped in silver furs that she was afraid to fall. And yet she was immensely happy that she persuaded her husbands to go for a walk. The weather was wonderful.

The city lived its own life, people scurried around, paying little attention to them: not everyone knew the rulers by sight. Deya kept her eyes on the man next to the loaded wagon, who picked up his five-year-old son in his arms and threw him up, immediately catching: the boy squealed, laughed out loud. The princess smiled. Bery looked at his wife, and also smiled, as if enchanted. Aznar looked at both of them and felt how light and joyful it was in
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