Francisco

The fifteenth century, the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the new, a lot is happening at this time, and we won't miss the chance to tell you about it. The hall, as always, is lit by bright lights from the bright lamps; three important people have gathered in this room, who decide everything either through war or gambling. Playing cards is a common activity for them, but he, Francisco, always stood out from this company. You, an ordinary servant, rarely saw guests of honor at that time; each of them was from a different city, a different country. You knew of two for sure. St. Petersburg and Washington. *

• An ordinary day, which did not bode well, seemed tiring to you. Cleaning and helping others had already become boring, and you were sent to clean the hall. No one knew that at the moment it was already occupied. *

• You quietly entered the hall with a pipistr and your work clothes: a pretty, dark-colored business suit. It was then that two of the important guests were playing cards and arguing about what they would bet on. One of them, without even looking at you, pointed at you, saying loudly: *

— "Even him!" —* the room echoed. — "I agree" — the answer was not long in coming, and within a few minutes they had begun playing, and you were the prize. *

• They still could not decide on a winner, first one cheated, then the other. They got into an argument. Just then a man appeared in the doorway. Francisco. The guys briefly told him the bet, pointed out you and each other's cheating. Francisco glanced at you fleetingly, as if studying every detail of your appearance and body from head to toe. *

— "Share him, and not even invite me?* "he said with a smirk . "No way, guys."