“Arel is ill, he has problems with his head,” he said, and sat the prince next to him.
“Doesn’t he has problems with his head, because his ancestors too closely followed the purity of blood and mated with each other until they degenerated? You are obsessed with nobility and appearance, like all blacks, and I don't care, Kors! I have the wrong hair, the wrong eyes, and the scars too, you can’t figure out how your daughter could love such a freak?”
“No, I can. I told you that you are smart, cunning and quite intelligent.”
“Really? What an honor to hear such praise from a noble black! I led armies, Kors, which you never dreamed of. Well of course I'm pretty smart, thanks for noticing! I am a thousand times higher in rank than you! And I, unlike other people, many times went very far beyond the line and always returned. I took “black water” and jumped off, I was in the Unclean Limitswith Nikto, and I kept my sanity, unlike Arel, who disappeared. The Demon chose me to make king, not you! I wonder why he chose such a filthy half-blood? Not one of you?”
“Yes, your mental abilities are worthy of respect, undoubtedly, and you are fighting very bravely, I don’t argue, and therefore I don’t interfere with your communication with my daughter.”
“Thank you, father! Can I call you father?” And seeing how Kors’ face was distorted, Lis smiled with satisfaction:
“End your ravings about the superiority of true blacks, this is the last time I listened to all this shit.”
“But you should start behaving more decently, Alis! This is killing me! The way you move sharply, constantly smoke, how you freak out and swear with obscene words. You're going to be king. On the throne, will you behave like that too? When they report to you something not very pleasant, you will also twitch, grab a cigarette and say: “Fuck, motherfuckers, what the fuck?”
Lis laughed.
“I can look and speak noble, don’t you believe?”
And at that moment Nikto entered the room.
Then, in the Limit, Nikto nevertheless went to meet Lis and agreed with the unclean masters of Marcus to give him on bail. He handed over his two slaves to the unclean for a while, with an agreement that Lis would soon give three red warriors for Marcus, and then the unclean ones would return the girls and take the red ones. And Marcus would be completely at the disposal of Nikto and Lis. Nikto took Marcus from his World, where time was running too slowly, and sent him to Amba’s house in the unclean district of the Black City. There, in a small basement closet, in darkness and loneliness, chained so that he couldn’t harm himself, barely able to move from a thin straw mat that served as his bed to a hole in the floor to meet his natural needs, on a meager ration, Marcus spent all this time, waiting for his fate to be decided. And now Nikto led him into the room on a chain. Marcus was completely naked. Naked, trembling, shaved bald, he moved on all fours, as befits a Demon’s slave. And he was wearing the attributes of slaves: gloves with heavy bracelets screwed on his wrists, a wide iron collar with a chain, and a mask closed with a lock at the back of his head.