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 fiancé.

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 fiancé'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 fiancé! 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!"

To avoid falling even further into a maelstrom of despair, Sylvia rose to her feet and, going to the closet and opening it, selected and put on a long black corseted dress with a high neck, decorated with scarlet jewels, but with a rather prominent neckline, and in her ears she put large beautiful earrings with blood-red sapphires. She was beautiful, but she knew that her fiancé would reject and despise her, but she had no opportunity to wear something more modest, nor did she want to: let Derek Merkswerd see that she had not yet lost herself completely.