– All right, all right. I'll be quiet. – Bergil headed for the door, but suddenly stopped abruptly and turned to his king with a laugh.

– Your fiancée? No, I heard what you said to that Rossi, but, Derek, are you really going to make that girl your wife and bring her to Caldwynd? – he exclaimed in amazement.

– Exactly," he said shortly.

– Are you out of your mind? What will your people think? The king is marrying a demoness, the spawn of Satan!

– It's my decision, and I'm not going to discuss it, not even with you, Bergil. Go.

Bergil cursed quietly under his breath, but still left, figuring that Derek knew what he was doing and would probably explain to him later this monstrous decision of his, which he, Bergil, thought was fundamentally wrong.

"Bergil is right: I will be anathematized, and my family and my heirs will be considered demons… So be it. Let my people think I'm crazy, anything is better than a war with Flammehav. Besides, the Church already hates me, though it tries to hide this hatred behind prayers for my health and my victory. I'm sure the holy fathers would be glad to see me dead so they could put Hedda on the throne. Fortunately, Hedda herself will never disobey her late father's will and defy me," the king thought to himself as he stepped back to the window.

Derek sank down again on the edge of the wide bed covered with a red blanket, took a sip from the golden goblet of wine and, twirling it a little in his hands, set the vessel back on the bedside table. Next to it he found a small stamped envelope that had not even been printed. It was signed "Court Healer's Report". It interested Derek, as he had previously thought that demons did not get sick and did not need such services, so he decided to take the letter with him and read it later. After taking off his armor and taking a nap after a hard fight, the king of men went out of his chambers in search of the throne room, which he managed with difficulty, because everywhere wandered his warriors who were cheerful from the wine, but the demons in the palace as if they did not exist. Carefully examining his surroundings, the king still managed to find the throne room, which unpleasantly struck him with the abundance of vulgar luxury, gold and scarlet color.

It was a vast space with high vaults that supported red stone sculptures of half-naked and even nude sculptures curved in voluptuous poses, some of them so shameless that they represented two demons as if frozen in the midst of passionate coitus. It was an abomination that made Derek cringe and once again feel a boundless contempt for demons, and especially for the royal dynasty of Rossi. And one of these voluptuous women would be his consort before God? Not only that, she would become queen of Kaldwind! Derek was determined to mold Sylvia Rossi into an obedient, quiet and compliant wife. After all, that's what a keeper of the hearth should be, and she must obey the will of her husband, her ruler. He would train the young demoness and make her forget her royal descent and the games she had learned in the debauchery of her parents' palace.

Passing through the hall, Derek settled himself on Lamar's throne and ordered a goblet of the best wine to be brought to him, which he immediately received. But time passed, and his unwanted bride did not appear. He had had enough to drink and was about to send for the stroppy girl when the heavy doors opened and Sylvia Rossi appeared, accompanied by brave warriors. Bergil quickly took a seat behind his king.

The girl stopped in the doorway. The blood-red hem of her dress swayed slightly from side to side, and her scarlet eyes were cold and stared straight into King Kaldwind's eyes. This indifference and arrogance irritated Derek: he wanted Rossi to suffer as he did, having lost his beloved. Katarina was his one and only, his main treasure, his support and backbone, the mother of his beloved daughters. He would no doubt have married her, but the laws of his kingdom did not allow a king to take a merchant's daughter as his wife. How could he dare to demand that his subjects obey the laws if he didn't give a damn about them? That's why he had to count the seconds from meeting to meeting, catching moments in the company of his favorite girls and giving them money so that they would not need anything, but one terrible day everything changed: Katarina left the girls with her father and went to the forest to get herbs for the potion, where among the forest flowers, on the lawn, Derek later found her torn body.

Katarina was beautiful. Intelligent. Graceful. She attracted the eye. But what the king could not foresee was that the demon Daryal would appear in his lands, killing the beauties of his kingdom for pleasure. The love of his life was the first one he chose to sacrifice. Derek still had that picture in front of his eyes: a tattered white dress, disheveled brown hair, and daisies the color of blood. There were bruises on her neck, she had been raped and strangled. When the King of Kaldwind was able to track down and catch the murderer, he didn't care who the villain was and executed him as the worst criminal in the main square of the capital. And he could not think that the murderer was a representative of the royal family of a neighboring kingdom. That was why now he wanted to put his palms on Princess Sylvia's pale neck and slowly plunge her into darkness: she was as guilty as her uncle, father, mother and other demons. All of them were hateful to him. And the rumors about Derek's mother, firmly planting their black roots in the lands of Kaldwind, made him hate the race even more.

Sulvai Merkswerd – King Derek's mother had intercourse with the Devil… Who could have thought of that?

The King of Men had unprecedented power, and the people of Kaldwind sought an explanation. To them, this gift was a seal of darkness. The deed of the dead King Juris was incomprehensible to the people: how could the throne be given to a man of dubious origin? Why didn't he put his only daughter on the throne?

Derek's mother was called a witch, accused of witchcraft, and so she was forced to live in seclusion, far from the other inhabitants of the capital. His father died fighting for the crown, but his exploits were quickly forgotten, as was he. Everyone forgot that Vidar Mørskverd was as strong as his son. Black rumors spread through the kingdom that Derek was the son of a witch and a devil, that his strength was given to him by the hellhole, and the disgust of the angels only reinforced these rumors. The angels never opened the gates to their heavenly city to anyone but their own race, and after Derek's coronation, trade relations between the two kingdoms came to a halt.

***

Silence reigned in the hall.

"Damn whore, how dare she look into the king's eyes!" – Bergil's consciousness was screaming with indignation and anger, and he was about to draw his sword to blow the demoness's head off, but Derek grabbed his arm and gave his friend a cold stare.

– Apparently my fiancée has finally realized where she belongs and is waiting for my permission to enter! – Derek deftly remedied the situation and didn't miss the opportunity to jab the demoness. The room was filled with the loud laughter of the warriors. – Well, come on in! Your feet must be freezing! Don't worry, Kaldwind will make you some nice quality shoes. Apparently rich Flammehav didn't have a single gold coin to buy you even a pair of leather shoes.

The noise intensified. It seemed that tears were about to come out of the eyes of King Merkswerda's subjects, and only Sylvia remained as cold as ice.

The girl was hurt to hear such things, her honor was being trampled on, but she had no choice, and had to endure these humiliations, gathering her inner strength into a fist for the sake of her people and kingdom.