Raven's Soul. Volume 1
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Trying to remain calm and look cold and proud, Sylvia took a seat next to her fiance and, squinting her eyes, slowly looked around the huge space of the throne room, filled with dirty, foul-smelling and rather drunken warriors. The girl felt like a graceful lion surrounded by hungry rabid dogs, but the thought of sitting on her mother's throne kept her spirits up. Her mother… Where is she?
– Why aren't my parents here? – She asked Derek coldly and gestured away from the goblet of wine offered to her by the groom's servant.
– Your parents were invited. But your mother doesn't seem to want to show herself in front of my handsome men in her new guise," Derek replied with a sneer of irony in his voice. – But, my dear bride, do not refuse the wine and drink to our soon sacred union. – At these words he couldn't help the mockery in his voice.
But there was not only mockery in Derek's voice, but order, so Sylvia silently beckoned to him to bring her the goblet, and when the vessel of wine was in her hands, she raised it, and looking contemptuously into the eyes of the bridegroom, said in a loud voice:
– Let us drink to Derek Merkswerd, murderer of women and children! A destroyer and, I hear, a usurper!
But if she wished to hurt the honor of her enemy and make him look like a monster before her own army, she was sorely disappointed. From all sides came the cry, "Usurper, indeed! Foolish goose!" "For Derek! To our king!" "Be thankful, woman, that our king let you and your father and mother live! He should not have!"
– A murderer of women and children! That's funny! – Derek laughed and took a sip of wine. – The murderer of women and children was your own uncle.....
– Lies!" Sylvia breathed out in frustration.
– He killed twenty-nine girls of my kingdom. Six of them were under fifteen years old. All of them were found raped and torn, in pools of blood," her fiance continued mercilessly. His face was as if carved in stone.
– I know my uncle! He wasn't a monster! My uncle loved and spoiled me, and he did not- – The girl began to defend the memory of her father's brother, but Derek knocked the wine goblet out of her hand with a sharp movement, and the scarlet liquor flooded her lap and soaked into the fabric of her dress.
The golden goblet made contact with the floor with a loud clinking sound and was stopped by the muddy boot of one of the soldiers after rolling halfway down the hall.
The noise in the hall was replaced by loud whispers: what was happening between the king and his demoness bride intrigued the tipsy soldiers. Someone quietly laughed at the "foolish fool" and said that "the king will definitely show her where her womanizing place is!".
– One more word about your murderer and rapist uncle's nobility, and I swear I'll behead your parents right here in front of your eyes," Derek said darkly, his gray eyes fixed on Sylvia's white face, making her feel a real animal fear.
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 fiance.
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 fiance'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 fiance! 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!"