– 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?

– What will you do to our daughter, you vile man? – Varma squinted her eyes. – You are not worthy to even look at her!

– What will I do to her, my dear, over-long-tongued Queen of Flammehav? – Derek's eyes glittered with mockery: without realizing it, Varma was depriving this all-powerful conqueror of the desire to make peace with her husband with every word she said, the demoness was too proud. – I will do whatever I want to her: I will torture her, hang her by her feet in front of the palace, undress her and make her walk through the crowd of onlookers. That is exactly what I will do if you don't shut your mouth right now.

'How easily he said it! Ah, mother, listen to him and remain silent! Otherwise, this tyrant and usurper will definitely do to me what he just threatened to do!" – flashed through Sylvia's mind, and she slowly reached out and squeezed her mother's palm.

Fortunately, the enemy's promise sobered the demon queen's mind full of unnecessary pride at this moment of Flammehav's downfall, and she frantically squeezed her daughter's hand in return. But her gaze on Derek burned with the same hatred: her soul was embraced by the desire to pelt this pathetic man who thought himself superior to her, Sylvia and especially Lamar, but fear for her daughter's fate made her clench her teeth so tightly that her face turned jaundiced.

– That's better," Derek said in a satisfied tone, and then turned to the kneeling Princess Flammehav. – Your mother seems to have a glimmer of intelligence after all. – And the sword that had touched the girl's neck was hidden in its scabbard.

– I beg you, King Derek… Sylvia is my only child and the hereditary princess of my kingdom. If disaster befalls me and my consort, she will sit on the throne and…" Lamar began.

– Wonderful! – Derek interrupted him. – That's even better! She'll come with me to Kaldwind in case you gather the remnants of your wretched army and attack again like a rat in the night.

– You have my word as king that I would not dream of revenge," Lamar said quietly. – Take back all the lands and cities you have conquered, but I beg you, as a father, to leave me my daughter!