Sitting in a Tree!

Some would try to warn the newlyweds, they might say: "Why so early, you haven't thought about it, you haven't lived together, my husband and I lived in perfect harmony for ten years before we got married, but you, you'll get married then get divorced, that happened to my girlfriend, what are you blah, blah, blah…", but Cord and Dia were sure: everything was clear, why drag it out?

This is how Cord entered the Palace for the first time. Dia led him through the white marble corridors, covered with red carpet, straight to the working office of her father, and then went to take care of some business. Even Tsar's daughter was required to run to different offices to get all the papers to register a marriage.

The size of Tsar's office was impressive: it was probably twice the size of Cord's entire apartment. Six glass-fronted bookcases lined the wood-paneled walls. In the center of the office was a large rectangular table with nine upholstered chairs. A little further on, in front of the windows covered by thick beige curtains, was the working place of Tsar. Behind him, on an oblong pedestal, stood three black telephones without dials, a clock with chimes hung on the wall to the right, and a wooden door was visible to the left (it led to a private room where the ruler could rest a little).

Tsar, who was now carrying out the everyday work with documents, heard the exclamation of his daughter and welcomed the couple. He took off his glasses, which were on a chain around his neck, and left his chair at the table. Then he exchanged a few words with his daughter, and she went out. Cord was invited to sit down, and Tsar pressed a button located under a cover. A few minutes later, a servant came into the office with a teapot and two cups on a tray.

"You should know, Cord: there will be no ceremony."

"What do you mean?"

"The royal wedding ceremony consists of many rituals, including the pre-coronation and public wedding in front of the people. But since my daughter is not willing to take on the duties of co-ruler yet, we will not hold such a ceremony."

Cord breathed a sigh of relief.

"So this is good!"

"But keep in mind, Cord, you will still have to go through that when Dia turns thirty. It should also be taken into account that you will become a Great Prince after the public ceremony. This, in turn, means that you have to devote yourself to politics."

"Weave intrigues and all that?"

Tsar smiled.

"If you like, yes."

"And in that case, I will not be able to work as an investigator?"

"How do you imagine the Great Prince catching thieves?"

"As a fighter against corruption?"

Tsar laughed softly.

"If you want to continue catching criminals, you will have access to work in the Royal Gendarmerie. However, it is engaged in investigating the malfeasance of politicians, such as you rightly noted, corruption or abuse of authority. Still, the sphere of murder is only a concern if the crime can cause an international scandal or significantly undermine the government's ratings in ensuring the safety of its own citizens. But, I think, there is no need, for now, to load your mind with such information."

"Can I serve alongside my current colleague, Force?"

"You mean, take him with you to the service?"

"Well, yes."

Tsar folded his hands into a steeple.

"You see, as the Great Prince, you will have the exclusive right to participate in whatever area of government you are competent in. However, this does not mean that your friends and acquaintances also have this right. Nepotism is—"

"Abuse of power. I know," Cord nodded, "but I mean something else. Can he pass the exams or what is needed there to serve in the gendarmerie?"

"Oh, yes, no doubt! However, the requirements for the gendarmes are much higher, and the test results must be exceptional. If your friend does not pass without error on the first try, the path to the gendarmerie will be closed to him forever."

"I see."

"Do you still have questions?"

Cord considered.

"Perhaps. You've inquired about me, haven't you?"

"Even before my first meeting with you."

"The dinner was arranged to see me in person?"

"Yes."

"What is your opinion of me?"

Tsar smiled.

"You know, when my daughter first described you, she mentioned you had a habit of speaking directly. She really liked that characteristic."

"Just to save time," Cord waved his hand, a little embarrassed.

"She also described you as a brilliant person."

"An exaggeration," Cord shrugged, growing more and more embarrassed.

"Later, Dia noted a specific humor and an ability to talk about things that in a decent society would be considered shameful, as well as a tendency to break the rules if they contradict your intentions."

"As I see, she told you about the rural toilet…"

Tsar laughed.

"I also learned about some of your professional achievements. About your non-standard logic, which sometimes has no apparent basis, but invariably leads to the capture of criminals. And much more…"

Tsar paused.

"I see no reason to list your full description, but after studying it, I concluded it would be difficult to find a better candidate for the title of Great Prince and my daughter's husband."

"Hmm. Why?"

"Guess."

"Is your daughter the same?"

Tsar laughed.

"Exactly, Cord, exactly! She, of course, does not investigate crimes and does not joke about, sorry, excrement, but in all other respects, yours and her characteristics are almost identical! And what an adventurer she is, you have no idea! However, I think you have yet to see everything for yourself."

They talked a little more about this and that before the joyful Dia returned.

"Everything is ready!" she announced. "Officially, I am now your wife!"

***

Naturally, this should have been celebrated, but they decided to postpone the holiday until the second week of December. There were several reasons for that.

First, Dia did not want to have one party after another—they had had only three days since they returned from the Tranquil Village recreation center. In the end, they needed to rest from their rest. In addition, Tsar offered to celebrate the wedding all together at their country house, which meant that the day would have to be chosen to adapt to his schedule.

Second, there were tons of other affairs to deal with.

On the same evening, when Cord proposed to Dia, Sky announced she wanted to quit her job as an escort. With the death of Madam, nothing was keeping her at the Blue Eyes. Besides, she was in the early stages of pregnancy (Peace was then so embarrassed by congratulations that he pretended he was wine-tasting, and Sky reacted in her own style: she began to thank everyone for every kind word).

Problems, however, arose with the dismissal: the new director of the Blue Eyes did not want to let one of his best workers go and then put obstacles up in front of her, once it even came to direct threats. When the girl told Cord and Dia about it, they immediately called the right people who threatened the brothel with serious "inspections". As a result, the director had no choice but to let Sky go not only wherever she so wanted, but he also had to pay her a severance package in the amount of a six-month salary.

The next day after quitting, Sky got a job as a waitress in a large chain cafe. A plain enough chain that the chance of bumping into her former clients was minimal. Later she said that she could so easily find a common language with the guests that they always went away with a smile on their faces and she with a tip. As a result, in terms of income, she did not lose as much as she had expected.

Cord was strained at work: the annual report was approaching. Since many of the Department's workers were "fans" of filling out forms on time, everyone was running around like crazy and passing the blame back and forth between each other. To add to everything else, petty crimes in the Central District continued to occur, and they also needed attention…

In the case of the Villain, they decided to put an end to it.

The entire investigative team was gathered together in the conference room. Cord, Force, Forensics, the forensic team, a dog handler and about a dozen more employees who took part in the investigation in this or that murder. Chief stood in front of them at the pulpit.

"So," he said very seriously, "if I am to understand correctly, we still do not know who it might be?"

Cord rose from his chair.

"We have a million guesses, but there is no specific person. Not even clues as to the identity. We still do not know if it is a man or a woman, not to mention the appearance, age, or any other detailed information."

"What have you done to uncover the identity of the Villain?"

Chief knew the Villain's case thoroughly, but it was required to speak in front of everyone.

"Everything possible: work with witnesses, analysis of evidence, and investigative forensic experiments were conducted twice, both on the first and second murders. All search activities are detailed in the report."

Chief nodded.

"And what do you say, Cord? What are your thoughts on the killer?"

"I think he's either a highly trained professional or an extremely lucky bastard." A lonely laugh was heard in the hall, which died down after a moment. "He did not leave a single fingerprint or murder weapon, except when, apparently, he did it on purpose."

"What are our chances of catching him?"

"Minimal, if he does not make a mistake. Or if he is a little less fortunate than usual."

Chief nodded again and looked around the audience. High-class specialists were gathered in front of him, who had collected a massive amount of materials on each case, who had done an excellent job of searching—who were now bashfully hiding their eyes because none of the above helped them get closer to the Villain.

However, the most terrible thing was that Chief could absolutely not find fault with anything they had done. All of their work was well done and conducted perfectly. Only it hadn't helped.

The killer had owned them.

"What I want to say…" Chief began slowly, simultaneously pondering how to formulate it more gently. "Oh, to hell." He came out from behind the podium. "Guys, to be honest, I'm tired of the endless waves in the Villain's case, and he hasn't killed since October: I doubt that the death of the homeless person in the park was his work. Perhaps the maniac has achieved what he wanted. Maybe, for a while, and has gone to ground. In any case, our budget is coming to an end, and we can no longer spend resources looking for a ghost. Until he commits a new crime, and I hope with all my heart that this will not happen, until then, we are stopping all investigative actions on any of the murders and are formalizing the Villain's case as unsolved."

Silence reigned in the hall.

A dead end! In the most high-profile case of this year and perhaps even the last ten years.

"As you understand," Chief cleared his throat, "this also means that there will be no annual bonuses."

For everyone except Cord and Forensics, this news was extremely sad. The first was a millionaire and the second a lonely working pensioner who simply had nowhere to spend money, but the rest… The withdrawal of the yearly bonus was a blow below the belt for them, but you can't trample on orders from above: after all, they had really screwed up.

***

Despite all the worries, on Saturday, December 11, the friends again got together in their full complement. It turned out that half of them did not even know that Dia was Tsar's daughter and that today they would go to their country house.

"I guessed that Dia was not an ordinary person, but that she—" muttered Fiddler in surprise.

"I didn't even think about it!" Mort answered cheerfully.

"A princess, so a princess," smiled Peace. "That does not make her a worse person."

"Cord told me," Sky shrugged in embarrassment. "I didn't ask him, but he blabbed."

"I just hope, friends, that you don't treat me differently," Dia said.

"So this knowledge changes nothing," answered Fiddler. "Well, until you become Tsarina. Then we'll need to be more careful: otherwise, we might be executed."

The friends laughed.

***

Upon arrival at the mansion, they began to admire everything around them, from the size of the territory to the house's beauty. Tsar came out onto the porch and greeted the guests with a sincere smile and said that it was too early for dinner, so they could look around. Along with Peace and Fiddler, the girls went to the stables, where Dia told them about her thoroughbred mare and stallion, and Sky fed them chopped apples and carrots. A little later, Dia led them to the stall of a two-month-old foal, and even the guys could not resist stroking the horse, who was cheerfully nodding its head in response to their touches.

Cord and Mort went to Tsar, asking if help was needed. Having received a negative answer, they, together with the house owner, went to the gym, which had been equipped on the ground floor and where there was a ping-pong table. They got into such a heated competition that Mort managed to split the racket on the corner of the table with one fierce blow and then started blushing very much. Tsar, who was following the game with passion, only laughed and handed him a new one.

The huge Mort turned out to be such a fast and strong player that even Cord, who considered himself a master at ping-pong, out of surprise blew two out of three games and then respectfully shook his friend's hand.

Soon came the time for the festive dinner, and the company rejoined. To say that the dinner was fabulous… Well, is that really necessary? One thing is for sure: in all of their lives, neither Cord nor his friends had ever eaten such delicious and unusual dishes or drank such expensive drinks with such gorgeous aftertastes. This fact, therefore, gave Tsar and Dia a little shameful pleasure when they, watching the reactions of the guests, smiled furtively at each other.

After supper, which ended closer to midnight, everyone went up to the second floor, to the recreation room. To the accompaniment of red and white wine, they talked about their lives, revealing their lives to each other and to Tsar. The latter did not lag behind: being an excellent conversationalist, he not only listened attentively to everyone but also shared funny stories from the world of politics and high society.

"And I tell him: 'Sir, now you will sit in a puddle!' He, heated up by an argument with me, did not notice how a waiter passing by had spilled a glass of champagne on his chair. He waves his hand in rage and exclaims 'You are wrong, Tsar!'—and with a plop, sits down on a wet seat!"

The friends burst out laughing. And Cord asked:

"Did you give a sign to the waiter to knock over the glass?"

Tsar folded his hands into a steeple and smiled slyly:

"That, Cord, is Top Secret information."

With such conversations, the night flew by. The first hour, the second… The friends had finally relaxed. Even though they had appeared in front of high society for the first time, they did not experience any discomfort.

***

Cord went out to the balcony to smoke. Outside it was near zero. The waning moon illuminated the snow-covered forest lying in front of him and the lonely road leading to the gate of the territory of the mansion. Cord breathed in the clean air and thought: Maybe it is not worth it? He turned the cigarette over in his hands and contemplated it… Yes, perhaps, I would not spoil today's evening with cigarette smoke. Especially when he considered that among the present company, no one except him smoked.

He put the cigarette back into the pack and turned around to return to his friends, when suddenly the door to the balcony opened, and Tsar came out of the house.

"I must thank you, Cord," he said.

Cord stared at his father-in-law in surprise.

"For what?"

"You made Diadem happy."

"As she did me."

"No, you do not quite understand…" Tsar went to the parapet and leaned on it. Cord stood beside him. "Dia is friendly and loves people very much, but she cannot communicate with those who are not interesting to her. And the specificity of the social interaction of aristocrats is such that you are deprived of a real choice: either you communicate with your peers or you do not communicate at all. And Dia… Let's just say, if she was interested in the cook, she talked with the cook, if the gardener, with the gardener, and if the aristocrat was not interesting to her, she quickly left him alone. Do you see what a reputation she had?"

"A black sheep?"

"That's right," Tsar nodded. "She was considered strange, although they never talked about it to her face. By the way, this feature—aristocratic hypocrisy—she also does not like. Therefore, I was astonished when one day she confessed to me she had found a 'good person'. And having recognized you, albeit superficially, I realized you are exactly the one she was always looking for. Sounds naive, right?"

"I had the same thoughts when I met her," Cord smiled. "Would you like to know what I think? I mean, why Dia communicates so well with all of us?"

"Please, share."

Cord turned to the house and looked at the balcony's glass door through which he could see his friends.

"We are all marginalized. One is homeless, another is a gangster, one is a hippie, another one is a former prostitute, and then there's me—the investigator who failed in the search for a killer for the sake of personal happiness. The dregs of society, from any side you look. Normal people are a dime a dozen, and Dia chose us. Do you know why? Each of us is friends with her not because she is the daughter of an influential politician with a lot of dough. And we also do not care that by society's standards—one of us is uneducated, the second too poor, and the third had sex for money. It's just fun for us to communicate with each other."

Tsar looked thoughtfully at his son-in-law.

"Perhaps you are right. Strictly, Dia, based on the definition of the term, is also marginal."

"By the way, are you not afraid to let a company of unfamiliar marginal people into your own house, albeit a country one?"

Tsar smiled.

"I'm not used to doubting my daughter's words. If she says that you are good people, then you are."

"You are one very crazy politician."

Tsar laughed.

"Perhaps I'm also marginalized."

Suddenly the door to the balcony opened, and Sky appeared in the opening.

"What are you doing? Keeping secrets out here?" she smiled. "Let's go inside. Dia is about to start playing the grand piano."

"Tell her not to start yet," said Cord. "I want to make a small announcement."

***

The beautiful Dia was sitting at the piano, ostentatiously resting her hands on her hips.

"You know, husband of mine, seven do not wait for one!"

"The situation demonstrates the opposite," Cord retorted with a smile. "But I want to say something if you don't mind."

"Oh, a speech! Come on!"

Cord walked over to the grand piano and stood behind Dia.

"Friends! Six months ago, I could not even have imagined that I would ever find myself in a similar situation. At my own wedding, surrounded by friends, with a woman I loved. I always thought that I had a different fate, that no one wanted a lone wolf. It is generally accepted that this is a strong beast, capable of coping with everything on its own, and does not need a pack, but this is not the case. The weak, the injured, or the sick—that's who is usually banished from the pack. And recently, I have felt that I have ceased to be a lone wolf. Thanks to all of you."

The friends applauded. Sensitive Sky wiped away a tear.

"And so today, I want to make a confession. I probably should have said this before, but…" Cord sighed heavily. "This is my biggest secret. And… Almost no one knows this, but I think it's time for me to open up. First of all, it concerns my darling wife. Dia, my dear, you should know…" Dia did not take her eyes off the serious face of her beloved man. "How can I put this softly?" Cord suddenly winked. "Your husband is a poser."

And his right hand slid along the third octave to the rhythm of jazz. After a moment, the melody was picked up by the left.

He heard the astonished gasp of Sky, the surprised exclamations of the men, and then Mort's thunderous laughter.

"Oh, you such a jerk!" Dia, amazed, exclaimed. "Well, I'll show you!" And she immediately picked up on her husband's improvisation.

The biggest secret Cord had was that at seventeen he had graduated with honors from a music school with a specialty in piano.