The Mist and the Lightning. Part 18. Ви Корс
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not obey me!”
“No, I always listened to you!”
“You didn’t listen well. You don't understand what it means to obey properly. Nik more or less understands… not completely, of course, he also needs to be educated much more, but at least he is trying to obey me as needed. Maybe you will try too?” Kors gently ran his fingers over the tightly closed lips of his prince, slightly pressing his not-cropped nails on his lower lip.
“No!” Arel said, dodging.
“Arel! That’s why, that’s why I stopped loving you! I love obedience. And you infuriate me with your obstinacy! You just piss me off!”
Arel turned away in frustration, but Kors, moving closer, tried to turn him around and kissed him on the temple.
“You will try, Arel, try, and you will succeed.”
But Prince Arel was stubbornly silent, and Kors, knowing his character, decided to change the subject for a while.
“Do you want me to help you? I will make it as painless as possible for Valentine.”
Arel shuddered and turned sharply to Kors:
“No! Don’t dare! It will be over between us forever if you dare to touch him without my permission. Don’t you dare harm Valentine!”
“Okay, okay,” Kors shrugged his shoulders, offended, “I wanted to help you, but since you don’t want… but no problem, Arel! Let your slave be taller than you, this is very… hmm… original! But you have always been not like everyone else, it is not for nothing that you were nicknamed “stupid handsome prince.”
Valentine, all this time kneeling in front of them, sobbed, unable to restrain himself any longer, and tears flowed from his eyes; and from a thorn covered, and from an implanted unclean eye. Arel, oddly enough, didn’t get angry.
“Valentine, I will bring you to the Black City and give you to my half-brother Vil. There are three of us.”
“Father had three sons,” Kors whispered softly and grinned.
“Vil will take care of you, he is very kind, and I will go with Nik and Vitor to the Demon World.”
“No, please, Master, don’t leave me! Take me to the Demon World too! I will serve you there, sir, when you become a Demon! Please!”
“No, Valentine, you will be fine in my Castle. You have nothing to do in the Demon World.”
Valentine continued to cry, smearing tears on his dirty, scarred cheeks. Kors looked condescendingly at what was happening, he was clearly bored; both this situation and crying Valentine at least a little entertained him and distracted him from the endless worries about his son, who went for a walk. Kors now could not control him and therefore was very worried.
“No, he’s pretty cute,” Kors remarked, finally returning to discussing Valentine. “Chester was far from ugly, and that little slave must have been pretty too. Pleasant appearance. Only you, Arel, don’t know how to handle your slaves. Valentine is dressed too expensively, you allow him to have long hair, you don’t really limit anything, you don’t follow him. He walks where he wants, does what he wants…”
“He never leaves our cart,” Arel objected.
“Are you sure about that? Have you seen how well-bred slaves behave in my house? The cook is in the kitchen, the groom is in the stable. And the slave in the entertainment room. Everyone is in his place and does not hang around anywhere.”
“Yes. All are distributed as in the cells in a prison.”
“Arel!”
And Kors already out of habit, not at all restraining himself, just as he spanked Nik, gave Arel a box on the ear; and he, like Nik, only shrank slightly and swallowed it without answering.
“You need to put a chastity belt on him. Otherwise, he will make children and continue the spoiled family.”
“Who needs him!”
“Are you kidding? His expensive clothes, long hair and tall stature will perfectly attract peasants and slaves, this is quite enough for them. Valentine, can you hear thoughts?” Suddenly asked Kors, abruptly changing the subject from an unexpected guess.
And Valentine trembled again and timidly answered:
“Yes, sir. Quite a bit, only sir Arel’s, sir Nik’s and sir Verniy’s.”
Kors shook his head.
“Yeah… Arel, and all your fault is your carelessness and stupidity! Gods, what am I to do with you all? How to fix this mess?”
“Put it back on,” Arel ordered Valentin, nodding at the helmet, and the boy immediately began to pull it over his disheveled head, slipping a hard leather collar under the collar. He couldn’t himself tighten the lacing on the back of his head, and Arel helped him and closed the back with a lock again.
Kors watched as Valentine himself put on a slavish attribute, as it seemed to Kors, he did it even with some kind of joy or relief he humbly bowed his head when Arel laced him up.
“But his character is not at all the same as that of Chester,” remarked Kors, “or is it you, Arel, who knocked all the crap out of him?”
“Valentine, get out, get out!” Arel ordered, and Valentine rushed to the exit.
“We should have sent him to Verniy to at least wash his face, he’s grimy as a pig,” said Kors.
Arel didn’t answer, he was clearly tired of being busy with a slave. He held out his hand to Kors.
“Go here.”
Kors responded, and Arel threw him onto his skins, holding him to himself.
“Arel, do you love me?”
“Yes,” Arel whispered, leaning on Kors with his whole body and pulling off his pants.
Chapter 5
“Why have you got drunk? I let you go play your fucking cards! I gave you permission! I fulfilled your wish, because I know how much you love it! And you got drunk!”
Kors shouted at his Nik, who returned to their tent in the morning and was pretty drunk.
“All clear! Dull silence! A ram’s look!”
Kors kicked in annoyance at their camp bed, on which Nik was sitting, and Nik quickly moved aside.
“I drank quite a little…”
“Have you seen yourself from the side?”
“Forgive me…”
“Yes, for you to say “I'm sorry” is as easy as to go have a piss!”
“You said one can’t say that … express himself in this way.”
“Why have you got drunk again? I don’t understand, explain to me!”
Nik thought for a while:
“Because it’s… it’s very pleasant.”
“Pleasant?! Is it pleasant to drink and hang around with all sorts of obscure personalities?”
“Personalities?”
“With all sorts of garbage!”
“It’s fun…”
Kors literally gasped with indignation:
“Fun?! Well, for goodness’ sake! I have no words! Your drunken friends will break your head sooner or later! Mador will split your stupid head, this will be also fun!”
“No.”
“Yes! This is usually the end of such adventures, believe me, I know. And you choose your friends the right way – only crap!”
Nik slid off the trestle bed and knelt in front of his father, bending down to him and kissing his boots. He knew that Kors really liked this demonstration of humility and obedience: at the very beginning of their relationship, Kors forced Nik to do it, angering and humiliating him,