For this man was a monster. He killed King Juris, took his power, and deprived the rightful heir, Hedda Juris, of her crown. And the poor girl was so intimidated by him that she accepted her fate unconditionally. All the kingdoms of Vakkerland knew about it, but no one dared to resent such treachery. Besides, no one cared about what was happening in Kaldwind, the land of the weak creatures. The lands of men. Neither mages nor angels came to the aid of the rightful heiress, but simply turned a blind eye to it, as did the demons. And the Rossi family didn't care who was the king of Kaldwind, didn't care who they traded with… Until now. Now Sylvia Rossi only regretted that her father had not foreseen that Flammehav would be destroyed by this usurper. She regretted that at one time her father had only laughed at the news that the King of Men, Juris, had been killed by his own knight, who had immediately proclaimed himself ruler of Kaldwind. And now this impostor, this brazen murderer sat on her father's throne and dared to cover the name of her beloved uncle Daryal with filthy lies, for Sylvia knew that her father's brother was honorable and had a sensitive heart. Yes, lately, before he had been cruelly and lawlessly executed by Derek Merkswerd, he had been silent and gloomy, and then he had disappeared from the palace, and the only news of him Rossi had received was from the Chancellor, who in turn had learned of Daryal's death from a Caldwinian merchant.
A hundred curses were on Sylvia's tongue, but she swallowed them silently, remembering that Derek was omnipotent at the moment and could easily do what he had just threatened to do. Outraged and angry, she breathed heavily, her white face flushed and her hands frantically clutching the wine-wet hem of her dress.
– That's better," the usurper said quietly and gave the demoness a scornful look.
– If you will allow me, my king…" The words were so repulsive to Sylvia that she barely managed to force them out of her throat. – My dress is soaked, and I wish I could change my attire.
Satisfied with her voluntary humiliation, Derek silently made a careless gesture with his hand, allowing his bride to leave the throne room, and she rose from her mother's throne without delay and gracefully, with her head held high, headed for her chambers, but halfway there she stopped abruptly and turned back.
– Your Majesty, let me see my mother… I will try to persuade her to join me in celebrating our engagement," she asked loudly, glancing at her fiancé.
He smirked.
– I'm not a despot, my dear bride," Derek replied in a calm tone that didn't fit his mocking smirk. – You may see your mother.
– Thank you, my king. – Sylvia curtsied and left the hall, accompanied by two warriors.
When she reached the wide carved doors of her chambers, the princess turned to her attendants, who looked more like jailers, and said coldly:
– I will go on alone from here.
– We are ordered to follow you," one of the soldiers muttered in reply.
– You have my word, brave warriors, that I'll be out soon. And if you are afraid that I will escape from my chambers through the window, you are mistaken: we are on the thirteenth floor, and I have no wings behind me. – Sylvia went into her chambers and slammed the doors in front of her fiancé's pesky warriors.
Left alone, the girl walked quickly to the bed, sat on the edge, and dropped her head on her hands in despair. Never in her life had she, the proud Princess of Flammehav, known humiliation, but the usurper Merkswerd had been insulting her all this sad and hateful day. Her fiancé! Her future husband! And, if he allows himself to shower her so openly with abuse here in Blutok, what awaits her where he is considered a ruler, albeit an illegitimate one?
"Fiery ancestors, give me strength… I hate this man and everything associated with him! And it is I who am destined to be his consort! I am sure: one wrong step and he will take my life, burn me at the stake like a witch… He wants my submission, and he will get it! It's the only way I can stay alive…" she thought, and a tear slowly rolled down her cheek. But the girl immediately wiped it away with the palm of her hand. – But I swear by the love of my mother: he will not break me! Let him humiliate me, beat me, rape me! I will endure all this for the sake of peace… But, how I wish that he would soon die or be killed! I, the supreme demoness, daughter of the almighty Lamar Rossi, am afraid… Afraid of this man!"
To avoid falling even further into a maelstrom of despair, Sylvia rose to her feet and, going to the closet and opening it, selected and put on a long black corseted dress with a high neck, decorated with scarlet jewels, but with a rather prominent neckline, and in her ears she put large beautiful earrings with blood-red sapphires. She was beautiful, but she knew that her fiancé would reject and despise her, but she had no opportunity to wear something more modest, nor did she want to: let Derek Merkswerd see that she had not yet lost herself completely.
Looking into the large silver mirror on the wall, the princess smiled sadly.
"I need to keep in mind that first and foremost I am not the King's daughter, not a bride, not a wife, but a diplomat. And diplomacy has always been my forte" she decided and left her chambers. But Sylvia did not hurry back to her fiancé, but knocked on the closed door of her mother's chambers, who immediately responded with a harsh scolding.
– Mother, it's me, Sylvia," she said, and the door immediately opened.
– Come in, my love. I'm sorry, I thought it was one of the humans," Varma told her hastily.
Sylvia stepped into her mother's chambers. The door slammed shut behind her.
– Look what that bastard has done to me! – Varma moaned, clutching her head.
– Oh, Mother, I'm so sorry…" Sylvia could only whisper, for the decrepit old woman standing before her did not resemble her beautiful, always young mother in the slightest. She had seen only a glimpse of Varma in her chambers when Derek Merkswerd had ordered her to be his wife, and now the change that had come over the demon queen surprised her unpleasantly.
"So this is what my mother hides beneath her magical sheath! Her old age! No, I will not be like her… I will meet my old age with dignity and will not hide from it" – involuntarily went through the girl's mind, but she did not want to upset her mother with the truth, so she said:
– Mother, no one will ever take away your beauty....
But Varma immediately interrupted her:
– It's already happened! That damned little man… Damn him! But how? Does he possess some magic even stronger than ours? Impossible! Humans have never had even a hint of magical ability! – The queen walked briskly to her huge half-wall mirror and dug her fingers into her long gray hair. – Oh, my beauty! My youth! I hate this reflection, it's not me!
While Varma felt sorry for herself and cursed Derek, Sylvia waited silently for her mother to come to her senses.
– And you.... So young, so beautiful… What I was years ago! – with envy of her own daughter, Varma suddenly said quietly, glancing at the latter's reflection.
– 'The people have gathered in the throne room,' Sylvia hastened to say: at this moment her mother was pushing her away with her behavior and her vain wailing. – Derek Merkswerd has ordered me to come there to celebrate my engagement to him… Mother, please come with me! I need you! – she pleaded softly.
– No, no… In such a state… And what is there to celebrate? Our shame? – Varma cut her off.
The girl smiled bitterly, but did not ask twice, for she knew that her mother, as if disturbed by the loss of her beautiful false shell, would never leave her chambers.
– Tell me, mother, is it true that Uncle Dariel killed and raped the women of Kaldwind and was executed by King Derek for it? – She asked the question that had been tormenting her.
