She dared not cross him. Her life, the lives of her parents and the entire nation hung in the balance. So she swallowed the insult silently and replied quietly:
– You are right, King. I am not worthy of the little finger of any girl of your great kingdom.
These words made Derek chuckle.
– I'm glad you agree with me," he said coldly and pulled his sword away from her throat. – Do you want peace, Lamar? Well, I'll give it to you! But you will pay a dear price for it.
– I'll give you anything you ask," the demon king told him quietly. – Just tell me what. Any jewelry, any land… Anything you want.
– Fine. – Derek grinned crookedly. – Then I'll take your main jewel from you. – He touched the sword to Sylvia's neck again. – Her.
– No, ask anything you want, but not my daughter! – Lamar exclaimed in horror.
– You don't seem to want peace as much as you claim," Derek grinned coldly.
The cold sword blade, covered with demon blood, was still touching the white neck of Princess Sylvia Rossi, but she was calm and only slightly frowned her beautiful forehead: why did this man want her? What does he desire of her?
The girl was lost in speculation, but carefully glanced at the face of the conqueror: he was handsome, nothing to say, but in his features felt the coldness that penetrated her to the bone. As far as Sylvia could tell, seeing this man, fully clad in heavy light armor, splattered with the scarlet blood of the enemies he had brutally killed, Derek Merkswerd had a tall, masculine figure, an aristocratic face, dark, slightly wavy hair down to his shoulders, and a small, well-groomed dark beard that distinguished humans from demons, who had not a hint of vegetation on their faces. But what struck the young princess were the man's eyes: gray, they glittered with steel and hatred. Hatred for her and her people. And she knew that he had a right to that hatred, and yet she despised him and hated him as much as he hated her.
And what does this cruel king of men wish to do to her? Burn her in the main square of his capital like a witch? Give her to the hungry dogs, to the delight of the mob? Put her in an iron box and submerge it in water until she confesses to sleeping with the Devil, only to be burned for having intercourse with the ruler of darkness? Isn't that what King Juris, Derek Merkswerd's predecessor, did?