– I see you like my deer. – The voice of the rude man who had threatened to use me as a concubine sounded behind me. – If you're good and obedient, I'll give it to you.

– He must have become your friend during the time you've been riding him, and friends don't betray friends, so keep your gift," I told him with disgust in my voice.

– I have no friends. Your words are sharp, but they only stir my imagination. – With a wink, the purple-haired mage easily saddled his deer, and one of the guards threw me in front of him on the animal's strong back as if I were a sack of supplies.

– Let me go! – I commanded and tried to get off the deer, but I was unsuccessful. – Now!

– You don't have to yell like that. – The stranger wrinkled his nose, brought his hand to his forehead, and touched it with his fingers. – You and your loud voice gave me a headache. You look like a lady, but you act like a small shopkeeper.

I had to admit, this man was a combination of masculine and feminine. Long, well-groomed hair, thin, almost feminine features, embroidered suit, jewelry, long, musical fingers – all this made him look like a girl. But there were masculine features, too: a rather athletic build, a sly foxy look, pronounced cheekbones, a strong chin, a voice… He was the complete opposite of Derek.

But why am I comparing them?

– You threw me on your stag like a street girl you're going to have fun with, so don't you dare complain about my reproaches. Is it proper for a proper lady to travel in such a manner? Get me back on the ground immediately and give me a separate stag," I snapped through gritted teeth.

– You're a criminal. Why should I do you a favor? – The scoundrel said indifferently, his lips curling into a sneer.

– She's not a criminal, and she doesn't deserve to be treated like one! You seem to have forgotten your honor! – Evans said indignantly, but he was silenced.

– Let's go! – As if he didn't care what Evans said, the purple-haired man commanded, and the deer started off in a line.

We rode in silence the whole way, and I was annoyed by the gaze of the purple-haired rider. He gave me a predatory glance every now and then, but fortunately he didn't take advantage of my helplessness or my hands. Besides, it was extremely uncomfortable to lie with my belly on the deer's back, and soon my unhappy stomach began to remind me of itself by a dull pain, and nearer to the huge noisy city I felt the nausea coming to my throat and tried with all my might not to let it out. I felt sick and blurry, but I couldn't do anything about it, and neither could Evans, who was hanging upside down on the back of a deer.

Finally, the deer stopped, and I was lowered to the ground. As I felt the cold stones under my feet, my knees trembled, and I collapsed on the long-haired wizard's chest, and as disgusting as it was, I couldn't pull away. My legs wouldn't hold me up.

– So you've decided to take me up on my offer, flower? – A creeping male voice came over my ear.

– Never! – I hastened to refuse.

– Then how do I understand your closeness?

My palms pressed against the mage's chest, and I pulled back slightly and raised my head.

– I can see that you're driven by carnal desires. But what you want from me, you won't get," I said quietly but firmly.

There was a heavy silence in the air. The mage's gaze turned dark and cold, sending shivers down my spine. But I wasn't going to give up.

– Well, you've made your choice. A couple days in the dungeon will bring you back to your senses. Take me away! – He pushed me away from him, disgust written all over his handsome face, and the man turned and headed toward the tall, stone gate that led to a huge, sky-high white palace with what must have been a thousand colorful carved windows, while Evans and I were taken under his arms and led in an unknown direction.

As we were led into the dungeon, I looked at the people around us and tried to memorize the way. Evans was remarkably calm, as if he'd never been arrested in a dungeon before, because he didn't need directions; he walked there as if it were his home and smiled mysteriously. I, on the other hand, made a great effort to save face and not give away my origin during the scandalous speeches.

Previously, no one would have ever dared to treat me in such a vile manner. Princess of Flammehav is in the dungeon? Queen Kaldwinda? Absurd. It's a good thing my parents can't see me now, or they'd leave no stone unturned. The weapons of men, depriving us demons of our powers, were far away, and it was unlikely that the king of Emmerlend had the same, because now I could clearly feel the ebb and flow of my demonic powers. I could have freed myself, but the mages' magical chains still blocked all my abilities, so all I had to do was obediently play my part and walk to the dungeon.

Emmerlend is certainly beautiful. There are fanciful buildings, an impossibly tall, slender palace with hundreds of towers, and a huge amount of vegetation that greedily burrows into the walls of the houses and grows wherever it pleases. Huge caps of trees literally cover the sky, covering the city. Even sunlight struggles to penetrate through the thick crowns and illuminate the streets, adding a touch of magic to the huge, half-human-sized gems. The mages are fabulously wealthy, but despite this, are extremely hardworking and try to increase their wealth, and the more they earn, the more they spend on building their rich huge houses, workshops and magic schools. My healer friend told me about the schools and some of the greed, and I took him at his word.

We were led into the very bowels of the palace, then into a glass chamber lit with a blue glow, though I thought we would be put in some filthy penates next to the rats. This lighted glass box would be spacious enough for one prisoner, but too cramped for two. The bed, quite wide, with linens and even a nice soft plaid, was in one corner. It wouldn't have been so bad if the bed hadn't been alone. Oh, and where was there a fixture where one could quench one's physical needs? There was only a bed, and nothing else.

I began to realize that we could stay here for years, but then we would never get the antidote, and Derek, my dear husband, would die. The thought brought unsolicited tears to my eyes, but I reminded myself that tears never helped anyone, and I blinked hastily, pushing away the unnecessary moisture of helplessness.

We were prisoners, left with no weapons, our hands still bound with magical chains. Everything was against us.

– Sylvia, I can explain," Evans said quietly.

He was sitting on the floor by the bed, leaning back against it.

– You'd better," I said with an involuntary grin. – Admit it: you've been here before, haven't you?

– I've been here before. The handsome man who treated you so badly is actually my brother. That sounds incredibly funny, doesn't it? – Evans chuckled too.

– It doesn't change anything. – I turned my back to him. I didn't want to look at the man I'd recently called my friend, who had hidden so much from me.

– It does if he's the king of Emmerlend.

We turned around at the same time, and our eyes met.

This news struck me to the core.

The King of Emmerlend is Evans' brother? No, he must be joking! Would a brother allow himself to imprison his brother in the bowels of the palace? Even if he did, even if he is so cruel, what reason would he have for imprisoning Evans and why am I here with him? I'll bet Evans isn't as kind and sweet as he pretends to be, because you don't treat blood relatives like that for no reason.

– I'm a bastard, Sylvia. My name is Evans Vallas. I lied to you: there are no other mages with the same family name," my companion continued in a calm, measured tone. – And, one more little detail I didn't want to tell you, so as not to scare you… I'm on Emmerlend's official wanted list. I am wanted by the royal guards, the court mages, and the ordinary citizens of the kingdom who want a reward for my capture.