The Mist and the Lightning. Part 13
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“Everyone liked it. The prince liked it.”
“Did you really obey Prince Arel?”
“In the beginning, yes.”
“Did he humiliate you?”
“Yes.”
“Same as I did?”
Nikto thought for a minute:
“No, stronger, and at the same time no… less. He exhausted me more physically, and you press hard with words.”
“Exhausted physically, that sounds great!”
“He beat hard, broke my nose, knocked out my front teeth, almost broke my jaw, ah-ah, also the knee…”
“Enough! Why did you let him?!”
“I knocked out his eye.”
“Are you crazy?!”
“I liked it myself. I liked his games.”
Kors looked at Prince Arel, who was still sitting on the bed without changing his posture and listening to their conversation with a slightly condescending expression on his face. Arel noticed Kors' gaze, and a slight haughty smile touched his beautiful lips.
“No matter how you humiliate him, he remains a master,” Kors was amazed, “he still feels his superiority over mere mortals, I “hear” him! Tell me, did he tell you the same as I did, about his superiority? That he is true black?”
“Well, of course! “I am a prince, no one is equal to me, only Demons”, Nikto grinned, “well and all that. He is the same as you, noble blacks, in fact, well, maybe just now just a little less freaking out.”
“You slept with Lis. And you were with other people of the prince too?”
“Yes. Arel let me be gang raped.”
“I cannot believe it! And Enriki Galas? I had not noticed anything about him like this before.”
“No, I just sucked Enriki.”
“Fuck! Is there anyone you haven't fucked with?!”
Nikto laughed:
“Of course there is! There are many of your black mercenaries.”
“That is, with your unclean ones, have you already rested with every one of them?”
“Are you excited by such conversations?”
“Simply, simply, such, uh … free morals reign in your midst … and … and … I worry about my daughter. For Karina, – got out Kors. – Did you rape her? Also let in a circle? And don't say it isn't! Everybody fucked her here.
“No, not like this. Kors, I swear to you, it was all voluntary.”
“Well, you may not, but Prince Arel for sure! I know him very well!”
And Kors “heard” suddenly how Arel thought a little contemptuously: “It is very necessary, she wanted me herself and came to my Castle, she was wet from me.” Kors caught the echo of Arel’s emotions when he thought of Karin. He seemed to have become a prince himself and felt his sex with Karina in the Castle. Her moans under him, her such passionate embrace, sheer desire and excitement. Karina really was wet from the prince, Kors didn’t expect such love of her daughter for the utter pervert Arel.
“Oh no! Cash me out! I don't want to catch it!” He shouted.
“I do nothing, you catch them yourself,” said Nikto, “you are very perceptive.”
“Yes, the specifics of my work taught me to see through people, to see even what they want to hide,” agreed Kors. “But I didn't see you.”
“I'm not quite a human, and, probably, my, as you put it, “shameful appearance” confused you. You looked at my tattoos and jewelry and didn’t see me behind them.”
“You are right as always. And why didn’t I send you your other things along with the mask! I should have sent you everything, not just the mask and the family ring. Somehow it turned out ugly.”
“You probably haven't thought about it.”
“I haven’t, honestly, I even forgot about them.”
“You simply didn’t perceive me as a person yet.”
“But I sent a mask as a sign of reconciliation! And… my own ring.”
“Yes, a mask, on the one hand, as a sign of reconciliation, but on the other, knowing now how you feel about those who wear a mask… For you, this is a sign of a slave, being in a mask is shameful and humiliating. You wanted to make up, but you humiliated me again: you sent neither my ring, nor jewelry, but a mask. My shameful mask, so that I could cover my shameful face with it.”
“Forgive me, please.”
“Come on, I’m kidding! In fact, I was very happy when you sent it to me. It was really difficult for me without it. This muzzle posed a terrible rub on the bridge of the nose.”
“Your mask is not lighter. I held it in my hands, it seemed very heavy to me, it surprised me. There are some metal inserts inside to protect the face, if I understand correctly.”
“Yes.”
Kors involuntarily glanced at the mask of Nikto, which was lying on the floor by the bed:
“How is it normal to breathe in it, and even during the battle?”
Nikto followed his gaze and also looked at his discarded mask, to where the outlines of the nose were slightly indicated on it with the more convex part.
“There are holes under the nose down there.”
“But they are very small, and often, during the battle, you want to catch your breath.”
“You can slightly raise the lower part.”
“But it's inconvenient.”
“No, it’s normal. I got used to it. You might think that noble sirs never put on a mask, that you never put on a mask.”
“They put it on,” agreed Kors, “but only when it becomes necessary to go down to the Lower City. They put on a mask to protect their identity.”
“And to come off in brothels and pubs,” added Nikto.
Kors pursed his lips, clearly not wanting to develop this theme further, and tried to change it:
“Why have you thrown it on the floor?” He looked again at the lying mask. “Nik, and then you put it on your face.”
“So what?” Nikto answered indifferently. “After all, my face is not cleaner than the floor.”