“They called him Lis then?” Nikto asked, trying not to meet his eyes with the mocking look of Kamiel Varah, from which he felt uneasy.

“After all, he was like a little red fox. Everyone began to call him that. His surname also combined well, so they called him Alis-Lis. And when he hit the first line, I was so proud of him! Not only did he survive almost one of all the recruits, he also distinguished himself! I wanted to put him on the list of those presented for the award for courage, but in the next battle he was captured, I was so upset, because I had invested so much in him!”

“Did you beat up the boys in your school?” Nikto asked, smiling. And Daniel Crassus also grinned content, clearly not feeling any remorse:

“How could it be otherwise! How much I beat and tortured them! They flew from me!”

Kamiel Varah shook his head accusingly and left the table.

“Crassus, did you make Lis wear the signs of half-blood?”

“These are the rules, how many orders he received from me out of turn and sat in the punishment cell, he still pulled them out! He so annoyed me that I waved my hand at that! I forced him only when the higher authorities came for a review. Damn, he is like my own son!”

Kors returned to the table.

“Well, doesn't he hit her? You have such a face,” Nikto asked him, since Daniel Crassus lagged behind him for a while and went out to freshen up.

“No, he's fucking her!”

“What?! Kors, what did you say?” Nikto began to laugh. “A-ha-ha.”

“Yeah…” Kors looked embarrassed.

“Is it possible for noble sirs to say that?”

“Well, I've already degraded here with you. With whom you lead, from that you will gain.”

“Come on, I will let your son go for a little while. Do what you want with him. Maybe this will comfort you a little?”

“Yes,” Kors replied sadly. “Thank you.”

Chapter three

Verniy

Nikto entered the luxurious toilet room in which his Verniy now lived. Everything here was not at all as modest as in the Prince’s Estate. Khabir was sitting on a low satin sofa, leaning against the back, he was without his helmet, covering his head, and stripped to the waist. Valentine was sitting on Verniy’s lap, hugging him. In his hands he held a glass with a healthy drink of unclean ones and drank it through a metal tube, with the help of which he could only quench his thirst, slipping it from below under the muzzle. Valentine drank slowly, with pleasure, the drink was sweet, and, unlike Arel, the unfortunate guy liked it very much, because Valentine loved sweets and tried very few of them in his life. And Verniy, pampering him, diluted the necessary ingredients, making the drink for the slave boy sweeter than necessary. Therefore, now Valentine, pressing the back of his head against the fur-covered chest of the unclean dog, and covering his almost blind eyes, was resting, enjoying the moment of peace. And Verniy hugged him affectionately, so small, thin, not really grown in his almost sixteen years. Nikto, seeing this picture, grunted, said aloud in the unclean:

“Ver, don't get attached to him. Arel often kills his slaves, and he will kill Valene will sooner or later.”

Ver pressed the boy closer to him:

“Master, don't let him!”

“Ver, he'll just hit him unsuccessfully and that's it, my order won't save you.”

“Don't let him beat him!”

“I treated Valene, forbade hitting him in the eyes, is that not enough? Valene… tine is the property of the prince. Do you want me to take away his only toy from Arel? Kors took the horse away from him and will not give it back now. He pranks on Arel’s hundred thousand coins horse and believes that it should be so! And Lis left him without people. I'll take Valene too, right? I love Arel!”