The appearance of an angel, the soul of a devil, a trail of atrocities, a brand on the shoulder. And the crimson shadow of the almighty cardinal behind her. Yes, that same milady. Lady Winter, Baroness Sheffield. Almost von Stirlitz. The cardinal’s best agent. But isn’t there a lot of villainy for one person? And isn’t the end too banal for an intelligent, devilishly intelligent woman? And who said that my lady was dead? She never thought of dying so simply and resignedly. Anyone can die, but only my lady can survive and win. She herself will tell you what really happened.