Previously, no one would have ever dared to treat me in such a vile manner. Princess of Flammehav is in the dungeon? Queen Kaldwinda? Absurd. It's a good thing my parents can't see me now, or they'd leave no stone unturned. The weapons of men, depriving us demons of our powers, were far away, and it was unlikely that the king of Emmerlend had the same, because now I could clearly feel the ebb and flow of my demonic powers. I could have freed myself, but the mages' magical chains still blocked all my abilities, so all I had to do was obediently play my part and walk to the dungeon.

Emmerlend is certainly beautiful. There are fanciful buildings, an impossibly tall, slender palace with hundreds of towers, and a huge amount of vegetation that greedily burrows into the walls of the houses and grows wherever it pleases. Huge caps of trees literally cover the sky, covering the city. Even sunlight struggles to penetrate through the thick crowns and illuminate the streets, adding a touch of magic to the huge, half-human-sized gems. The mages are fabulously wealthy, but despite this, are extremely hardworking and try to increase their wealth, and the more they earn, the more they spend on building their rich huge houses, workshops and magic schools. My healer friend told me about the schools and some of the greed, and I took him at his word.

We were led into the very bowels of the palace, then into a glass chamber lit with a blue glow, though I thought we would be put in some filthy penates next to the rats. This lighted glass box would be spacious enough for one prisoner, but too cramped for two. The bed, quite wide, with linens and even a nice soft plaid, was in one corner. It wouldn't have been so bad if the bed hadn't been alone. Oh, and where was there a fixture where one could quench one's physical needs? There was only a bed, and nothing else.

I began to realize that we could stay here for years, but then we would never get the antidote, and Derek, my dear husband, would die. The thought brought unsolicited tears to my eyes, but I reminded myself that tears never helped anyone, and I blinked hastily, pushing away the unnecessary moisture of helplessness.

We were prisoners, left with no weapons, our hands still bound with magical chains. Everything was against us.

– Sylvia, I can explain," Evans said quietly.

He was sitting on the floor by the bed, leaning back against it.

– You'd better," I said with an involuntary grin. – Admit it: you've been here before, haven't you?

– I've been here before. The handsome man who treated you so badly is actually my brother. That sounds incredibly funny, doesn't it? – Evans chuckled too.

– It doesn't change anything. – I turned my back to him. I didn't want to look at the man I'd recently called my friend, who had hidden so much from me.

– It does if he's the king of Emmerlend.

We turned around at the same time, and our eyes met.

This news struck me to the core.

The King of Emmerlend is Evans' brother? No, he must be joking! Would a brother allow himself to imprison his brother in the bowels of the palace? Even if he did, even if he is so cruel, what reason would he have for imprisoning Evans and why am I here with him? I'll bet Evans isn't as kind and sweet as he pretends to be, because you don't treat blood relatives like that for no reason.

– I'm a bastard, Sylvia. My name is Evans Vallas. I lied to you: there are no other mages with the same family name," my companion continued in a calm, measured tone. – And, one more little detail I didn't want to tell you, so as not to scare you… I'm on Emmerlend's official wanted list. I am wanted by the royal guards, the court mages, and the ordinary citizens of the kingdom who want a reward for my capture.