Raven's Soul. Volume 1
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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 M?rskverd 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 fiancee 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.
– It is a shame that you so disrespect your choices, my king. By humiliating me, you humiliate yourself. Do the subjects of your country dare to laugh at your preferences and future queen? – replied the Flammehav heiress calmly.
This phrase made people stop laughing, and the hall suddenly became quiet.
– Well, you're right about something, future queen. – Derek said the last word in syllables, through clenched teeth. – Have a seat. – He pointed to Queen Varma's empty neighboring throne and gestured for the musicians to continue playing.
Chapter 6
"Rude ignorant dork! – thought Sylvia, treading slowly across the cold, stone, reddish floor towards the one who had left her no choice but to give him herself, her body and her honor. After all, he was the victor. A conqueror. Her magic had no effect on him, and she had no way to penetrate his thoughts, his soul, but his behavior and attitude toward her and her parents spoke for themselves: he was a scoundrel, a tyrant, an ignoramus. – And this miserable creature, this proud man will soon be my husband? Consort… What a strange word! I am the heiress of Flammehav, a demoness, and this cruel usurper! He'll make me queen of his kingdom, but I don't want that! I want nothing to do with him! But do I have a choice? Alas, not even my father, the mighty Lamar Rossi can protect me!"
She staggered toward the throne where Derek Merkswerd sat, the light scarlet dress swaying to the beat of her steps. The girl's wavy black, raven-winged hair was braided into a high, elaborate style and adorned with modestly sized blood-red sapphires that emphasized her large red eyes framed by long, black, thick lashes. Sylvia walked slowly, with a perfectly straight back and raised chin, showing that her pride had not left her despite the fact that she had heard nothing but mockery and insults from her future husband.
"They don't call that girl 'the main jewel of Flammehav for nothing,'" said Derek, who was already quite tipsy but still sober. He watched the princess's every move and rightly noted her true aristocratism, which, however, was absent in her parents. But the knowledge that Sylvia Rossi's own uncle had murdered the woman he loved, the mother of his children, made Derek cringe slightly at the thought of a relative of that accursed murderer becoming the rightful queen of Kaldwind, and, even more disgusting, his consort before God.
"Proud little thing, I'll put you in your place!" – thought the king of men with a wry grin, but decided not to humiliate Sylvia so openly in front of his soldiers, because she was right: by insulting her, he was insulting his own choice. Yes, he did not want to marry her, a demoness who must have already known many men. After all, that's what the demon king's palace was famous for, sculptures of debauchery: its orgies. And this girl Sylvia could pretend to be anything she wanted to be, whether it was a defiled innocent or a proud maiden who knew her worth, but Derek knew she was nothing more than a slutty voluptuary.
Derek, dressed in a modest black outfit over which he wore his armor, looked like a peasant: his shoulder-length dark hair was unwashed, his shirt was torn in places, his boots were untidy and muddy.
"He didn't even deign to wash the blood from his face and hands! King! – Sylvia thought contemptuously as she approached him. – And, mother of fire demons, he stinks like the last stable boy! From the battlefield to the feast! Am I to share a marriage bed with him?"
The way his bride wrinkled her pretty nose did not escape Derek's gaze, but he only grinned and leaned back on the high back of the carved throne and ordered more wine to be brought to him. He didn't care what this demoness thought of him or her feelings or desires. She was only a hostage, his prisoner, but he dared not take her life, knowing how precious this lecheress was: she would bring his people a guarantee of peace and protection from Lamar's wrath when the power of the White Talisman died with Andrada. Sylvia Rossi, without realizing it herself, was untouchable and needed by the one who had destroyed her home, killed her people, and was now forcing her into marriage.
Since the warriors who had witnessed the conversation between their king and the Rossi family that a marriage would be arranged between him and the demon princess had already tried to tell others, by now the entire Kaldwind army knew that Derek Merkswerd would take the daughter of the enemy as his wife and make her his queen. Some were angry, some were amazed, but most saw it as a boundless humiliation to the mighty Rossi dynasty and were overjoyed at the king's unexpected decision. No one but Derek and Bergil were aware of the Talisman and the threat that might loom over their homelands, but no warrior, not even the most angry, dared to discuss their ruler's decision.