It was a hard decision to make, but he realized that it was the only way to guarantee peace and quiet for his kingdom.

Soon Rossi entered the room, each of them searched and disarmed, their hands still bound tightly with ropes. They looked at the silent King Derek Merkswerd with bewilderment, and Varma with contempt, as they waited for him to speak.

– Lamar and Varma: you are here to hear the terms on which I will give you peace, and on which my army will leave Flammehav," Derek said firmly and turned to the demons.

– I listen to you, King Derek," Lamar replied in an ingratiating tone.

The gray eyes of the king of men stared into the red eyes of Princess Sylvia.

– Your daughter will be my consort," he said in an uncomplaining tone.

– My daughter is the wife of a mortal? – Varma hissed: as Derek had expected, the magic no longer nourished her body, and she was now a gray-haired old woman. Her husband looked no better. Only young Sylvia was still herself.

– Derek, you ask too much," Lamar said softly. – Ask anything, kill me, kill Varma, but leave Sylvia alone.

– You're in no position to contradict me," Derek reminded him grimly.

– I agree. I will be your consort," Sylvia said quietly but firmly, looking into the gray eyes of the enemy of her people.

– I agree. I will be your consort. – These words were given to Sylvia with great difficulty, as if a ball of thread was stuck in her throat, not allowing her to breathe. But she kept her eyes on the King of Men, trying to speak clearly, to let him know that her pride was still with her, and had not been dropped the moment she knelt down.

There was tension in the air and a pleasant, floral scent coming from the vials of oils on the gold and white marble dressing table just opposite the front door. Derek couldn't help but notice that back at their first meeting, when he'd put the cold blade to young Rossi's fragile neck, he'd thought for a moment that he'd caught a familiar scent emanating from the demoness. It was the smell of his mother's house… The combination was unusual, and that was what made it stick in his mind. Derek snatched a strand of hair from Sylvia's head and inhaled the familiar scent of pine and lingonberry pie. He'd never encountered either of those things before in his conquest of Lamar's lands.

Conifers and lingonberries did not grow in the Devil's lands, they were too hot here, and the soil was hard and inhospitable, which meant that the princess was purchasing these oils from foreign merchants. "Perhaps I'm on the right track, and my much-loved mother is giving me a sign? Maybe my decision to marry the hated demoness is the only right way out? And let my soul be torn by dogs, but I must look into the future and protect my people from the vengeance of the red-eyed! There may be no happiness in my house, but there will be happiness in the homes of my subjects! Yes, I will surely do anything to keep the balance!" – Derek was torn from his thoughts by Varma's angry gaze, which he felt with all his being, and by Sylvia's confused look, who had not expected that the king of men would dare to be so insolent.

– Pine and lingonberries. At least you have something in common with humans, so you won't die," Derek decided to explain his actions, tossing aside a strand of black hair. – If no one objects, I don't see the point in continuing this conversation.

– But I haven't given my consent yet! – Lamar was indignant, forgetting his position.

– So, maybe you don't need peace? – grinned the winner and, shifting his gaze to Sylvia's cleavage, continued: – I might reconsider my offer, after all. Why do I need a wife when I can have a new mistress? That must be a status your daughter would prefer, right?

– You… – hissed the demon queen, but, catching the displeased look of her spouse, did not speak further.

– I what? – The question sounded easy and relaxed, as if Derek no longer clung to Varma's words. – Perhaps the queen herself would like to brighten my evenings? – He laughed openly at Rossi. – Though, Varma, you're an old woman now, and I bet not even the last soldier in my army would want you.

– Cocksucker! – blazing with anger, Sylvia was indignant. – How dare you talk about my mother like that, even in the presence of her family? I agreed to your terms, what more do you want? You have humiliated us enough today! – The previously docile demoness seemed to have been replaced.

– Well, I like it! – laughed the King of Men. – I thought you were going to be boring! Well, I can see you're anxious to get married, so be it! Your father won't stand in the way of his daughter's happiness, will he? – His gaze fell on the cornered but indignant demon king, who could not utter a word and only expressed his agreement with his enemy with a nod of his head. – We leave tomorrow. Tonight I want to see my bride at the feast in honor of our engagement, and I hope that the princess has something more decent than brothel dresses. – And you, Princess, learn to keep your mouth shut, for I am not your father and I will not encourage your promiscuity. Know your place, woman. Take them away!

As Rossi was led out the door, Derek sat on the edge of the bed and realized that he was not in the servants' quarters, but in the princess's chambers, but his fatigue was so great that he had no energy to look for new quarters. And what did it matter where to sleep? Sylvia's room was not much different from the servants' quarters, which surprised the king, because he expected to see furs, expensive carpets, a lot of jewelry and gold. Only some of the furniture was gold, and the jewelry was kept in a small desk drawer, and surprisingly there was little of it. There were various outfits hanging in the huge closet, but most of them were floor length corseted dresses in bright colors, small heeled shoes and a few pairs of colorful silk gloves. Derek had expected to see short, revealing dresses, and this discovery made him chuckle good-naturedly. The furniture in the room was red oak, the marble countertops, narrow window sills, and dressing table were the only things that distinguished it from the neighboring servants' quarters. Light, light curtains fell in soft waves from the eaves. Even from the other end of the room one could see what was going on outside the window. Sylvia's chambers were so bright and clean that they seemed to Derek like a separate universe. It was as if they were part of another palace.

Looking around a bit, Derek opened the double closet again and pulled out a scarlet dress, more like a long tunic, matching the tone of the princess's lipstick. Derek looked at the dress with a scrutinizing eye and concluded that Kaldwind girls never wore dresses of this style, but Derek was curious to see his future consort in it. He was quite aware that his warriors would most likely mentally lick the red-eyed wench from head to toe, but he didn't care about her or her comfort. "Who cares how that minx feels? I'm sure she enjoys catching hungry male gazes. Oh, and she's probably spread her snow-white legs in front of other demons more than once. But, devil, I'm no worse than these monsters… I want to see the princess's bare ankles too! Decent women hide them under the hemline, but this one flaunts them!" – King Kaldwind thought to himself.

– Bergil! – Derek called out to his friend.

– I'm here. Has something happened? Or have you finally decided to have some fun with the fiery priestesses of love? – His companion's lustful smile was not long in coming. He sipped from a large golden goblet and smacked his lips at the sight of the dress.

– No, and that is the last time I hear that question. Take this outfit and take it to my bride and let her change. Then take her to the throne room to show off my new acquisition to the warriors. – Handing the dress to Bergil and taking the goblet from him, the king spoke.