Guardian of the Sea Prince 3 read online in full. The books were given by Arnautova. The Sea Prince's Chosen

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Sea Prince's Guard 2. The Sea Prince's Chosen

CHAPTER 1. Return

There was a sea all around. Cold, dark, endless water, and the no longer night, but not yet dawn sky closed with it somewhere unimaginably far away, hiding the sun in the milky gray depths. From the flying spray, Giad instantly got wet through and through, although she was standing in the water only up to her waist, and the waves moving towards the shore rolled around her with barely perceptible elastic shocks. Behind, on the shore that was close and at the same time infinitely distant, Karras remained, and Giad was afraid to turn around, although it would still not have been possible to meet the Alahatian’s gaze.

And ahead, just a couple of steps away, if the water could be measured in steps, two Irenazes were swaying in the waves, rising above the backs of the saltu, then emerging from the sea mist, then again plunging into it up to their chests. They swayed and were silent. And this was perhaps the smartest thing they could do, because Giad felt like she had a bowstring stretched to the limit. Stretch it even by a hair, touch it carelessly - it will tear, whipping you backhand.

“You said,” she heard her dispassionate voice as if from the outside, “that you would not force me to do anything.”

“That’s true,” King Irenaze answered slowly, as if with difficulty. – The imprint is too unstable, it becomes thinner, breaks like rotten seaweed. Your hatred will kill Alestar, and you will hate him if...

“I don’t like him too much anyway,” Jiad dropped. -Are you not afraid of this?

Karyall shrugged silently. The sky brightened a little, and now it was clear that the king was naked to the waist, only on his neck was a thick chain with a dark round stone.

- And I have to believe it? After so many betrayals and lies?

“No pressure to go to bed,” she said just as dispassionately. “Otherwise, I swear by Malkavis, you will know how much I can hate.” No threats. You won't lie to me anymore - no matter what I ask. When the month is up, I will return to earth, but if Alestar insults me again in word or deed, you will release me first. And you will not allow anyone to harm me or show disrespect: not the prince, not the priests, not other Irenazes, not the last jellyfish. Do you swear to this, Your Majesty?

“Yes,” the king responded just as colorlessly, raising a stone hanging on a chain to his lips. – I swear by the Heart of the Sea that protects Akalante, its essence and strength. I vow to comply with all these requirements and take care of you as my most valued guest. But let's hurry, please...

The stone in his fingers flared up with an alarming bloody fire, as if a sunbeam had fallen on it, but around there was still the gray twilight of dawn, and a huge ruby ​​- what else could such a miracle be? – shone on its own, from within, and Jiad realized that the sea gods had accepted the king’s oath.

She stepped forward, and again, then could not resist, looking back, and fixed her gaze on the lonely figure at the very edge of the water. The waves licked the boots of the Alahasan, who stood in an embrace with Giad’s cloak and blades.

- Come back, G! – Liline shouted, as if he was just waiting for this movement. – I will wait here on the coast! A month, two, three - as long as it takes, do you hear?

“I hear you,” she shouted back, and a gust of wind tore the word from her lips, carrying her to the shore, where Liline nodded in response. - I'll be back, Lil!

The salty water stung in her eyes, there was a thick lump in her throat, and Giad hurriedly took the third step, the last. She took an aquamarine pendant from the king’s silently extended hand, involuntarily noting that now it was not a chain, but a leather ribbon threaded into the stone’s setting. You can’t tear it with your hands... I wonder if they’ll take the knife away from her? However, it doesn’t matter if Jiad is really connected with the prince’s life, the Irenazes will not anger her in vain.

Now standing chest-deep in the water, with a disgusted chill she stuck her head inside the ribbon and felt how it, already short, was shrinking, clasping her neck softly but securely...

“Don’t worry,” Iratal said hastily, catching her involuntary movement with his gaze: “It’s just safer.” So that it doesn't tear or fly off accidentally.

“Yes, of course,” Giad grinned. - Well, I'm ready...

It turned out that it is impossible to be prepared for this, no matter how many times you go under water. Saltu Iratalya swam up with a jerk, the head of the guard extended his hand, helping him sit in the saddle behind him, and immediately, as soon as Jiad found himself on the back of the fish beast, he went into the depths.

The water closed over my head with a merciless weight, flooding my nose, mouth, eyes, ears. An icy grip squeezed my body and poured down my throat, forcing me to relive the wild fear of choking. Giad dug her fingers into Iratal’s shoulders, trying to inhale, squeeze out the salty, dense stuff - and coughed, feeling that she was breathing. Water - but breathes!

“No, nothing,” she said with difficulty, choking and spitting, to Iratal, who turned around anxiously. - Nothing... Something this time...

“Another sea spring, unusual,” Iratal responded guiltily. “The one you wore remained with His Highness.” The priests tried to find you using it, but only spoiled the stone.

“We found it after all,” Giad muttered.

They didn't say another word. The fish beast rushed from its place, and Jiad could only silently wonder how the Irenazes found their way in completely dark water. Even on the ground at night it is easy to get lost: darkness distorts familiar outlines, hides and changes distances, and confuses paths. And at sea, where in addition to the usual view on both sides there is also up and down, how can you keep the right direction?

But it was clearly not the time to ask Iratal about this. The head of the guard lay down on the salta, merged with him, pressing tightly against the skin, and Giad had to follow his example, clasping the Irenaze by the shoulders with one hand, and with the other clutching the pommel of an unusual saddle designed for a tail.

If she had suddenly doubted that Prince Alestar was really dying, this frantic swim and flight in the painfully slowly brightening sea would have been enough to understand: they were rushing to the dying man. Ahead, the dark silhouette of the king cut through the water, and Jiad thought detachedly that it was not for nothing that the Irenazes were swimming one after another, although there were no roads here. It's like making a path in the snow: it's hardest to go first, but it's much easier to follow him. Iratal is an excellent rider. But she would never have held the beast so smoothly and cleanly, right nose-to-tail with the king’s flip.

Snow, water... Giad tensed, throwing off the strange numbness of her thoughts, ready to revolve around anything, but not what she really needed to think about now. I agreed! She herself, of her own free will, agreed to return to the underwater kingdom, believing Lord Irenaz, who had already deceived her once, and his shining talisman. Why did she decide that the sea people do not break the oaths taken on this relic? Because they said so themselves? To her, a two-legged stranger? And where did she get the idea that this was the Heart of the Sea? Does King Irenaze have many wonders that can, if necessary, shine like a coal from under the ashes?

Jiad involuntarily took a deep breath, realizing with despair that she had once again thrown her life on the line in a deadly game for unknown reasons. But Malkavis told her to choose... To choose, and not to take the word of everything that the vile tailed ones say! Okay, having lost their head, they don’t regret earrings... You need to think about how to survive a month next to the red-haired bastard. Even if he sacrificed himself to atone for his guilt, this is not a reason to forget and forgive. Most likely, the misunderstanding born of the heir to the throne of Akalante did not even think about what would happen to him after parting with the imprinted one. Not thinking is very similar to Alestar. I succumbed to the first impulse, which accidentally turned out to be noble, I wanted to cut all the knots in one fell swoop - and lo, admire it!

The father-king, the priests and the courtiers are all going crazy trying to undo what the redhead did with a brainless act of generosity. And Jiad...

My heart was stung with melancholy guilt as soon as I remembered Leline’s eyes. What did he do to deserve this? Loyalty and care? Yes, for this alone it’s not enough to tear off a redhead’s tail! A whole month... Will it wait? And if he waits, how can he beg for forgiveness later? How to convince me that I couldn’t do it any other way? Liline believed her without a word, brought her to the sea, risking her life and freedom, and what will happen now to the mercenary whom Torvald’s people are probably looking for? Malkavis, help him escape! Help us understand that we don’t have to wait on the coast; within a month, even a seasoned animal will fall into the traps set.

They descended lower and lower, and Giad's ears were blocked from the pressure of the water. She swallowed several times, opening her mouth, and felt something click in her ear canal. The water immediately stopped pressing, as if it had reached an incomprehensible equilibrium.

Iratal's shoulders tensed rhythmically under Giad's arm around them. Irenaze ruled the beast, barely noticeably shifting first to one side, then to the other, helping himself with his lower. I remembered how Alestar taught her sea riding. How can one person be so different?

After all, the redhead really loves saltas and understands them, just as good riders on earth love and understand horses. This, of course, does not mean that a person is kind - any number of scoundrels care for and protect animals, but it’s better for people not to get in their way. But at times Alestar showed the confused despair of a lost boy... Yes, he was cruel. But not at all like Torvald. He could, if he lost his temper, torment, even kill, probably, but to lie with such a clear gaze, to betray with beautiful and calm calculation... This was not at all like Prince Irenaze.

Giad squeezed her knees tighter, trying to hold on to the sharp turn. Out of habit, of course, a saltu is not a horse; it is not driven with its knees. Wet pants clung to his legs, bare feet rubbed against the rough skin of the fish-beast. The boots remained on the shore. And a ring! Only now, Giad, confused, remembered that the Ausdrang ring still lay in the heel of her left boot. If Karras doesn't remember or decides that she hid the precious relic somewhere else, that's the end of the ring. Boots are not blades or even a cloak; it is unlikely that an Alahatian will take them with him, but rather throw them on the shore. Well, this is fate... Rubin Ausdrangov wanted to go into the world - he did it. It’s time to believe Karras in this, otherwise how can one explain that the ring flew out of memory just at the right moment?

The spiers of Acalante emerged directly below them, and Giad realized that they were sailing directly towards the city, just like the night the redhead let her go. Straight and down. The palace was approaching rapidly, the blackness of its silhouette was dotted with bluish and yellow fireflies of the tuarra in the windows. It seems that many people there either got up early or didn’t go to bed at all. Saltu made the last turn, from which Giad, if she had been full, could have turned out, froze in front of a dark opening in the wall, somewhere in the middle between the roof and the bottom. Well, yes, they don’t need stairs here...

Giad nodded and also tried to get down, immediately feeling that she had involuntarily lied - there was no “good” at all. My head was spinning, my empty stomach was twisting like a tourniquet, and colorful sparks were flashing wildly before my eyes.

“Your Majesty...” she heard through the thick dark veil that covered everything around.

Iratal said something, the king answered him something - Jiad, throwing her head back, tried to catch her breath, thinking with helpless disgust that the strength bestowed by Malkavis was running out. If she had lingered in the foothills, if Liline had not helped her get to the sea, the priests could have tied their tail in a knot, explaining how they destroyed the chosen one instead of getting it. What a good joke it would be...

The neck of the jug was pressed to her lips, and bitter moisture, already familiar from the previous time, poured into her mouth. Giad took a sip, drank to the end and, waiting until her eyes cleared a little, gave the jug to the floating Nevis.

“Faster,” the old healer said pleadingly, looking into her eyes. - Madam chosen, I ask you...

She was dragged by the hand along corridors flooded with the light of the tuarra, and even this soft glow seemed anxious, feverish. The door is the same, as if there were no weeks of freedom. And the room is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Near the wall is a cage with a scurrying little fish. Look how you've grown... Wait, baby, it's not up to you yet. The remaining walls, from floor to ceiling, are lined with some kind of complex instruments: mirrors, glass tubes, vessels with multi-colored liquids, sometimes sparklingly flickering, sometimes thick and opaque. And in the midst of all this, a disgustingly familiar bed with a prostrate body. A dull red strand of hair trails across the pillow like a dead snake. Glass tubes stretch towards the hands, blue-white, almost transparent, plunging into the skin like predatory needles. Even the tail, always shining with mother-of-pearl, has faded, and a drooping fin hangs lifelessly from the bed. Face…

Jiad swam closer and looked into the cold, perfect beauty of the dead Prince Alestar. No! Here, the chest barely noticeably rises and falls. But... so slowly...

“Please,” the Irenaze king’s feverish whisper was heard nearby. - You see? Now – do you see? I beg you - no need for hatred... Is it possible to hate him now?

“It’s impossible,” she agreed to herself. - This is impossible. It just won't work."

And she asked out loud:

- What should I do? Speak up!

“Leave us, Your Majesty,” said the surprisingly authoritative voice of Nevis. “You have done what you could, now leave us and pray to the Three - the rest is in their power.”

Nodding obediently, the king floated out of the room with Iratal, and the healer again caught Jiad’s gaze with his own – immensely tired and anxious.

“There is no time for rituals and rituals,” he said hastily, taking her hand and dragging her to the bed. - A little more - and the heir will not be returned. Just lie down next to him and touch him. As tight as... you can. Ask! – he added in a breaking voice.

Jiad silently obeyed, trying to convince herself that there was nothing terrible or disgusting about it. After all, she saved the red-haired fool from the breath of the Abyss, and then from the sirens? And I didn’t think then how much I hated him and whether I could forgive him.

The bed was just as soft and wet as I remembered, only warmer. It's still disgusting! The prince's upturned face was very close, pale, as if glowing from within.

“He’s really leaving,” Giad instinctively understood. - The soul is about to fly away. Or will it float away? Oh, what's the difference..."

Moving even closer, she hugged the redhead with one arm, pressed herself against his side, tried to catch the rhythm of the prince's breathing, not understanding what to do. And what can she do?

– You heard what the king said? – Nevis’s voice, colorless with fatigue, suggested from behind. – Forget about hatred. Just... try to remember what could connect you. Something good! After all, there was at least something?

Judging by the despair in his tone, the healer himself didn’t really believe in it. Giad honestly tried to remember. Humiliation, pain and rage surfaced in my memory, like dirty mud from the bottom of a disturbed spring... No! Don't think... Don't think about what will kill the last disappearing connection between them. It's like training for concentration! It’s easy to remove unnecessary thoughts, but how and where to find the ones you need?

In desperation, she clung to the only thing that came to her mind: the prince was holding a salra fry by the tail, scolding the brainless boy. He was glad when Jiad begged for the baby fish. Glad not to kill.

Giad took a frantic breath of water, diligently driving away thoughts of the bad. Alestar taught her to swim in salta. He arrogantly let out thorns and snorted, but taught with conscience. And he even gave up his beloved hunt to follow the biped and protect her from malicious gossips like Mialara. Yes, for a redhead this is a real feat...

Memory persistently thrust hot hands on shoulders, feverish whispers in the darkness between the walls of the pens. Yes, but I resisted! I controlled myself, even asked for forgiveness...

The body trembled under her hand. Giad peered into the marble face, on which only dark golden eyebrows and eyelashes stood out. Everything else is a masterpiece of a great sculptor, and not living flesh. But clearly the prince shuddered! We can only hope that this is not agony.

“Yes,” Nevis whispered from behind. - Yes, more... Please!

More? Jiad closed her eyes so as not to see the hated, insolent beauty. If she had to answer to Malkavis for her foolish agreement to return to sea, what would she say?

Prince Irenaze did not lie to her. He tortured, almost killed, but he didn’t lie. Even that last time, when he was sent upstairs, he managed to tell the truth, but he presented it in his own way. The waves beat against the stones, the surf almost drowned her as she floated away, but allowed her to get ashore, and Alestar remained to die. It was at dawn. Salt on the lips, salt that soaked the body and hair, it stung the eyes and skin... But there was also a day before that? Turansay wine and cheese cakes, hot sand and the flame of a fire... And Alestar looked at her with admiring eyes from the gently splashing waves, looked silently, unable to hide the desire in his gaze, but at least not giving it away in word or deed.

Giad involuntarily squeezed her fingers on the prince’s shoulder, took another deep breath, with tension, not allowing herself to raise her heavy eyelids, holding in her memory the golden sparks of the fire, the taste of wine on her lips, the dense streams of water flowing around her body when you float on salta. And blood! Alestar's blood flowing into the water, calling for his father while Jiad fought off the sirens. Red tried to get out from behind her, from a refuge that could give him a few extra moments of safety, and moments too often decide who lives and who dies. He pulled himself up on his hands, crawled, just to fight next to him, although he himself would not have lifted the knife. Malkavis, help! Help me keep him at least for this! Because he was next to me in battle...

Nevis was saying something nearby, anxiously and joyfully, Giad did not hear him. She burned in the cool water, as if she were running across the hot desert sand, suffocating from the heat pouring in from all sides. It was heavy and hot - it even seemed to her that the water around her should boil when it came into contact with her skin. And this heaviness... She tensed again, throwing her head back, arching like a bow with a tense string... Malkavis, how heavy! It’s hard... to pull out...

Stubbornly clinging to the fragments of the assembled mosaic, as if every good memory of Alestar was a carefully preserved jewel, Giad breathed sharply, involuntarily licking her lips. It was like a fight, and she knew how to fight, giving all her best. Now neither the requests of the king of Irenaze, nor the thought of the sea people doomed if the prince died - nothing mattered except what she herself decided. Because only her entire will, gathered together, could hold back someone going beyond the edge of life.

And she kept it! When something changed and moved, the prince began to breathe a little faster, and somewhere in the distance Nevis cried out joyfully, a dazzling scarlet wave of pain covered Giad headlong, swept through her body, filling every part. Moaning through her teeth, she pressed herself even closer to the finely trembling Alestar, even resting her chin on his shoulder, but not in the desire to caress, of course, but trying even more closely to grab what was felt inside as a slippery hot cord connecting them, like an umbilical cord connects a baby with womb. Another time this comparison would seem blasphemous, but not now. The prince was born again! And Giad tried to help him as best she could, pulling him into life with all the strength of her soul and body. And only when she heard a weak, intermittent groan, ending in a sob, did she allow herself to slip into half-sleep, half-unconsciousness from terrible exhaustion.

The first thing Alestar realized when he emerged from the darkness was that there was no pain. In the name of the Three, could there be greater happiness? The pain was gone, and it was an incomprehensible bliss that he simply enjoyed, afraid to move a muscle. Will he come back?

And he was also warm, also for the first time in endlessly long and painful days and nights, when the cold penetrated inside and did not go away, no matter how much he lay in the hot bath, no matter how much he warmed himself from the inside with the tincala. Warmth... Maybe he has already died and ended up in the Ancestral Depths?

But it was in no way similar to the afterlife, because the body felt a calm, soft languor, warmth and bliss in every muscle, peace... Yes, that’s what it was! Peace. It was as if everything was finally exactly as it should be. A strange feeling, but what a wonderful one!

And he was clearly not lying alone. Someone's hand was hugging his shoulders, and it also felt so right - words cannot describe it. Like satiety after hunger, rest after fatigue, security after fear... Like satisfied love, even better.

Alestar took a deep breath, trying to catch this wonderful feeling, at least remember it, like a sweet dream that disappears as soon as you wake up, but the hitherto unfamiliar happiness did not pass, and he risked turning his head and opening his eyes. His heavy eyelids refused to rise at all, and when they did rise, he blinked several times, not believing what he was seeing. A clear profile, as if carved from dark amber, the shadow of eyelashes on the cheeks, a childish palm placed under the head. And the second one is on his, Alestar’s, shoulder...

Frozen, afraid to frighten away the vision, because it could not be reality, he peered greedily and with inspiration, as one looks at something that they dreamed of seeing, but did not even hope to see. Giad was sleeping. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her bent knees rested against Alestar’s tail, and even in her sleep the priestess looked as if she was about to jump up and rush somewhere. It’s clear where – away from here...

They finally caught her! Caught and dragged to Akalante! Deep gods, what to do now...

He must have moved or shuddered, because Giad instantly, as if she had not slept, opened her eyelashes, looking point-blank at the black drops of the Abyss that the gods gave her instead of pupils. She looked silently, without moving, and Alestar also held his breath, trying to read at least something in the impenetrable darkness of her gaze - but where was it!

My breath caught. Probably for the first time in his entire life he didn't know what to say. Previously, words always came on their own, sometimes like swift fish, easily escaping from the lips, sometimes falling from them like heavy stones or crawling out like poisonous maaru. And now, when he so wanted to say at least something, they were not there. Only emptiness. A complete terrible emptiness both in the head and in the heart, and even fear and understanding that even if he said anything, it would still not be what was needed. Because can words mean anything if there is someone nearby, whom to see is the greatest happiness and the greatest misfortune?

“We’re awake, your highness,” Jiad said dispassionately, breaking the silence that had lasted an eternity.

This, of course, was not a question; why ask the obvious? Alestar nodded silently, although he only really managed to move his lead-filled head a little.

“Lie down,” the priestess said just as calmly and colorlessly, removing her hand from his shoulder. - Get well…

Alestar’s eyes even darkened, as if he had been hit in the gut, but all that was left was that the almost weightless weight of someone else’s hand disappeared. No, not a stranger! That's the point, it's not a stranger.

“It’s you...” he breathed out helplessly, only now daring to believe, to be filled at once with fear, despair, and hope mixed with hopelessness. - It’s really you... I thought I was dreaming...

“With such nightmares, I can only feel sorry for you, Your Highness.”

– You’re here... This is father, right? Well... what to do now...

What can I, sick, recently dying, do to send you back to earth - that’s what was in this question, hidden in the words, like a shell in the sand, and the sharp edges cut my heart, because there was no answer and there couldn’t be like there are no pearls in an empty shell.

“For me to endure, for you to recover,” Jiad muttered, lying on her back and looking at the ceiling as carefully as if something had changed there during her stay on land. – Yes, and don’t hope for anything too much. Your father promised that I would only stay here for a month. And a guest, not a prisoner. Therefore, your highness, please keep your hands to yourself, not to mention other... parts of the body. I didn't come back to please you.

Cold, angry words floated like ice crumbs and poisonous mucus, but Alestar, in confusion, ignored them, hearing only one thing, the most important.

– Have you returned? – he asked, afraid to believe. -Did you come back on your own? Of your own free will?

“Exactly,” the priestess stretched her lips in a grin, glancing sideways at Alestar and again looking at the ceiling. “I am here because King Irenaze asked me to save his son and heir. For the sake of peace between humans and sea people. And all I agreed to was to be there.

Alestar has always been able to hear only what he wants. “Being nearby” is, in fact, a lot! More than he could or dared hope for! Giad, his Giad has returned herself! You don’t have to think about how to save her again, you can just surrender to the happiness of being together. And everything else... Will form somehow!

Fatigue came on suddenly, as if he had not just woken up, but had been hunting all day. Or even sorted out bills, which is much more tedious. Alestar closed his eyes, but then quickly opened them again, afraid that Giad would disappear. No, the warrior priestess lay nearby, gloomy, but not about to disappear. And Alestar allowed his eyelids to become heavy again and his body to relax, floating away into warmth and calm.

The prince fell asleep. What a creature! Looks with such pure delight and joy, like looking at a best friend or a lost but found love. Giad shuddered; anger, driven to the very bottom of her soul, slowly rose inside her. As if nothing had happened! Nothing but good things at all! Maybe he’s still waiting for her to melt and agree to share his bed for real? Yes, the sea will soon boil.

The redhead sobbed resentfully in his sleep, as if he had heard her thoughts. He moved closer, threw his tail over Giad's legs and unceremoniously grabbed her into his arms. Choking with indignation, Jiad stood up, about to break free, and came across the gaze of Nevis, still swinging against the wall behind the prince.

“Don’t,” the healer asked quietly, rubbing his temples with his fingers. - He's sleeping. It is his body reaching out to you for healing. Nothing carnal, lady chosen, believe me. His Highness will not be able to look with desire at anyone for a long time, not even at you...

“It’s for the best,” Jiad muttered, forcing herself to freeze.

Then, unable to bear it, she carefully removed the prince’s hand, stubbornly meeting the pleading gaze of the healer, and muttered:

- I can’t do this. I’d rather hug myself... later... if necessary...

“I understand,” Nevis agreed just as quietly. “You’ve already done more than I dared hope for.” His Highness is alive and on the road to recovery, and it’s high time he learned to curb his desires. Just remember that he is not yet fully in control of himself. You are for him like a hot spring for someone who is freezing.

Not finding what to say, Giad shrugged her shoulders, feeling that she herself would happily sleep now. But she didn’t want to fall asleep: although with her mind she understood that the prince was safe, her body and memory warned otherwise. Alestar’s eyes burned too much when looking at her. And the prince, by the way, unlike his father, did not swear to anything.

A salru darted about in a cage against the wall, and Jiad thought with shame that she had never looked at him closer. Malek probably recovered a long time ago, why hasn’t he been released yet? Was Red missing at least some little animal? Replaced a two-legged pet with a tailed one?

The thoughts were angry, bitter and hardly fair, but Giad didn’t care. Hatred was too deeply ingrained to disappear from Irenaze’s requests and the affectionately hot glances of the red-haired bastard. It is unknown how things will turn out when the prince recovers. And even if he behaves decently, sees his desire, constantly feels him, catches glances that are not far from touching... The month will not be easy.

And she will release salra tomorrow! First thing!

Sea Prince's Guard

For almost three centuries, people living on land and sea people have avoided each other.

But one day Giad, a proud warrior, had to rush into the sea waters to find the ring of her master, and Prince Aleaster, mad with grief, decided to take out his evil on her. Jiad is in captivity, and her captor is being hunted by those who have long dreamed of destroying the kingdom of people and the people of the sea.

And only great love and loyalty can save the mysterious Heart of the Sea from betrayal on land and in the depths of the sea. But will the prince be able to achieve forgiveness from the proud priestess of the god of war? After all, without her love, Aleaster’s days are numbered...

Love and Magic

Give me the flame. Ink Mouse

Lack of money and poverty push the best law student to commit a crime, and a little later - into the hands of a bored aristocrat.

Mared Whinney miraculously managed to escape, but she was found and made two offers at once. Obscene and shameless.

Accept the first offer and become the lord's concubine, fulfill all his whims and follies in order to earn money for his dream? Or accept the latter - and take revenge on the scoundrel?

Or maybe a poor student should not get involved in the games of aristocrats, where her life is not worth a penny?

Fire in your heart

What is love? For him - the end of immortality, for her - the loss of the meaning of existence.

They - the fiery sorceress and the jarl, whose life is forever given to the sea god - are sure that pleasure can replace a great feeling.

But if the power of passion is so great that the waters of the northern seas boil, then the voice of reason will not break through the loud knocking of loving hearts.

Sea Prince's Guard

The Sea Prince's Chosen

Jiad holds the keys to the peaceful life of the sea kingdom. Yes, she agreed to return to the sea and save the prince from death, but no one told her that the magic of imprinting requires the impossible: sincere forgiveness. But in Jiad’s heart there is only hatred and pain.

Will Prince Aleaster be able to overcome the centuries-old enmity between humans and Irenaze if betrayal and death haunt him?

They will have to unite to uncover the conspiracy and murder, maintain the power of the sea king, but most importantly, overcome all differences and defeat themselves.

Twilight of Midgard

Give me the flame. White crow

Mared agreed to the blackmailers' demands and became Lord Montrose's concubine. A cold aristocrat offers to help the girl realize her dream - to become a royal lawyer, and her enemies offer revenge for the humiliation and freedom she experienced.

A modest student becomes a respected professional; from a timid and naive girl she turns into a desirable woman.

What choice will Mared make - a dream or safety, betrayal or love for Montrose, who sees her as a toy, a playdate for the night?..

No series

steel snowdrop

For her friends she is the Steel Snowdrop, for her enemies she is a stubborn and tenacious bitch. But the gift of a battle mage does not last forever, and Lady Lavinia Revengar may well become a bargaining chip in palace intrigues.

Lavinia knows that you can lose everything except your honor and steely character. But how easy it is to make a mistake when choosing between love and fidelity!

Will the steel snowdrop be able to break through the ashes and ice and bloom?

Year of the Necromancer. Raven and branch

This is a world of plague, bonfires, wild hunting and the approaching Apocalypse.

The necromancer Grel Raven is the apprentice of the mad fairy prince, the terror of the Inquisition and the Gatekeeper of Death. Only he can save Genevieve, the widow of his sworn enemy. But what price is the fugitive willing to pay for her salvation? And if we remember that due to the fault of her husband, Grel lost his family, name and soul?..

But Grel Raven is the only hope of humanity and the gods to save the world. And Genevieve is the necromancer’s only hope of remaining human...

Bridge of the Four Winds. storybook

Twelve amazing stories by Dana Arnautova about vampires and chimeras, Mexican gods and village mermaids, ghosts and necromancers.

A journey awaits you to the eerie Transylvania and the fabulous East, imbued with bliss and voluptuousness.

Mysticism, horror, fantasy and scorching erotica for those who love bright stories and adventures.

Giad again slowly moved the rod along the cage, extending her hand with the toy far to the side and up, the hollow along the spine trembled, tense, and Alestar even swallowed, so clearly he could imagine the taste of the skin if he now leaned over and ran his tongue. Where? How does he know this hot, silky tenderness, so different from the taste of Irenase? Oh yes, I tried it once... I licked it when...

The memories burned with shame. Alestar even shuddered guiltily, and immediately Giad turned around, meeting his gaze. Her face, as Alestar had feared, turned to stone, only her eyes remained alive and angry.

How long are you going to keep him in the cage? - the priestess asked coldly. - Everything has healed.

Indeed, it has healed, even the scars are not visible. And the fry grew quite big, now it was longer than an arm from fingers to elbow. I wonder who fed him all this time?

“Your beast, you let it out,” Alestar responded, continuing to admire the girl now sitting sideways to him. - He's probably already eating by himself. You just need to find a quiet place, without maaru and away from the city.

Jiad glanced sideways at the fry, confusion flashed in her eyes. Well, yes, how can a person understand local dangers?

“I’ll help,” Alestar said hastily, before it occurred to the priestess to ask someone else for the favor. - There is a valley, they don’t hunt there. And maaru is not there. I will show.

The confusion in his gaze gave way to gloomy doom. The priestess nodded silently and turned back to the cage, and Alestar felt a painful pain inside of her with longing. Giad returned voluntarily, but it’s clear that she feels bad here. Why? And does she understand that last time they tried to save her and not offend her?

Jiad! - Alestar called out to the tense back and the dark cloud of hair swaying around the back of his head. -Will you let me talk to you?

“As you wish,” the priestess said, not in a hurry, however, to turn around. - I can hear you perfectly, your highness.

The hint was as clear as a newborn jellyfish: she had no intention of returning to the bed, closer to Alestar. And I didn’t even want to look at him!

Taking a deep breath, Alestar tried to calm the rising irritation. This is Jiad. His Giad.

“I’m sorry,” he said out loud as calmly and gently as he could. - That time, the last one... I told you... everything. I didn't mean to offend you, I swear.

“I know,” the girl said indifferently. - You wanted to deceive me. So that I wouldn’t think, but just float up.

Yes! - Alestar breathed out with relief. - I wanted to save you, you know?

“You did it,” it sounded just as dispassionately, unless Alestar did not imagine an emerging storm under the calm of this calm. - Maybe I should also thank you? For your generosity.

“Jiad,” Alestar repeated hopelessly, feeling that the warmth that had enveloped him since his last awakening was rapidly disappearing. - Why are you doing this? I just wanted to save you. You didn't deserve to die. And everything else too. I know I'm to blame.... But I wanted to help...

Couldn't you just tell me what it was? Was it necessary to lie and humiliate?

Still, it was a storm. And not a simple one, but a royal one, one of those that mixes the sky with the sea in the whirlwind of waves and wind. Alestar even felt salty in his mouth from the premonition of trouble.

“We have to,” he said stubbornly. - Otherwise you wouldn’t have sailed away. You always think about others, and about yourself only later, if you have time. I should have saved you.

Perhaps I will still express my deepest gratitude to you, Your Highness...

The priestess, without getting up, turned around in one flexible and smooth movement - the envy of any killer moray eel, looked at Alestar, stretched her lips in the semblance of a smile. After a pause, she continued:

You sacrificed yourself, right? It’s a family thing for you to do with others what you want or think is necessary. And good or bad - depending on your luck. If they wanted, they raped and tortured, if they wanted, they saved and released. True, then all the thugs of the coast chased me around the city like game, trying to return me to the sea. And when that didn’t work out, your priests decided to attract me with magic, like a fish swallowing bait. It’s okay that the hook tears the insides - it will work out faster and more accurately. Of course, you have nothing to do with it, for this I have to thank your father. Well, consider that you and he each killed me once and saved me once. Just like in the game! Now what? Whose turn is it to be good and whose turn is it to be bad? But the toy doesn’t care who breaks it and who fixes it! I'm not your toy, your sea highness...

She paused, as if suffocating, even her lips turned white, but her voice remained even and almost calm - this was the most frightening thing. Alestar was not afraid of the storm, the waves would not do anything to those born in them, but Giad’s words were like an underwater stream-trap, flowing quickly, but almost imperceptibly, only once you get into it, you realize that you are unable to get out. And all you have to do is watch the sharp edges of the rocks fly past, and guess which one will take you to.

“Jiad,” said Alestar, peering into the completely alien face opposite. - I didn’t want to... Well, how can I swear that I don’t wish you harm? I haven't wished for it for a long time!

How can I swear that all these days and nights I was thinking only about you? - rushed out of my mouth. - That I saw you in a dream, waking up in stupid tears and rejoicing in these dreams as the best medicine. What I dreamed of seeing again in reality, and now, having seen...

What difference does it make to me? - the priestess spat out furiously. - Because of you...

She stopped short again, but Alestar jumped up, also breaking into a light and joyful anger.

What is it because of me? - he asked in a voice ringing with resentment. -Have you lost your master? The one who betrayed you? Is it him you regret?

Dana Arnautova

Sea Prince's Guard

© D. Arnautova, 2016

© AST Publishing House LLC, 2016

* * *

Ring of the Ausdrangs

The fear in Torvald's voice was not befitting a prince of the blood. But who said that all princes are excellent warriors? Torvald already did what he could, covering her back. Exhaling sharply, Jiad leaned forward and riskily threw a direct blow - the tip entered the enemy’s chest with a wet crunch. Spinning around, she knocked the sword away from Torvald. The prince jumped to the side so as not to interfere, and Giad was left alone with the dark-haired hulk in red and blue - the coat of arms of the traitor Laudolf. The big guy turned out to be good, even too good. Grinning, he transferred the blade from his right hand, a trickle of blood flowing down his forearm, to his left. Two-handed, that is. Giad responded with a grin, also changing her hand: fighting with a left-hander with the right is exactly wrong. Continuing to smile, she stepped forward, catching uncertainty in the enemy’s darting gaze. Come on! Or did you seriously think that Torvald took an ordinary girl as his guard, and your comrades themselves ran into the sword?

- Gee, faster!

Why on hand? The big man's blade scratched Jiad's elbow and almost touched his side. With a reverse lunge, she pulled the sword away, turned on her toes, and leaned away with her whole body.

Lunge. Hit. The sound of blades. And one more thing... Bad lunge, dirty. Completely unworthy of a sword master. Only now the master has his fifth opponent in half an hour. Giad bit her lip and swayed forward. Exposing herself to the blow, she still gained a couple of palms of distance - and reached with the tip. Grunting and senselessly clutching his throat with his hands, the big man collapsed to the ground, blood oozing between his fingers, staining his cloak, dripping onto the gray stones of the cliff.

Turning around, Giad rushed towards Torvald. He managed to move ten steps away. There, at the very cliff, his mare, which had broken its back in the fall, was still trying to rise, and two royal guards lay like chopped up dolls on the ground in crimson puddles. The other horses, hastily tied to the bushes, snorted from the smell of blood and entrails. And on the cliff, opposite Torvald, powerlessly clenching his fists, stood Laudolf himself, raising his hand high. In the stream of jubilant summer sun, his famous red beard and disheveled red and gray hair were visible far away. The bloody mouth grinned, but dark streams flowed down the matted beard. A broken arrow stuck out between the ribs - deep and secure. Laudolf should not be king... And in the fingers of a bloody hand, like his mouth, the ruby ​​of the golden coronation ring, the main relic of the Ausdrang family, shone and burned with a small flame.

“Noooo,” Torvald groaned, taking a single step forward.

This step was enough. Swinging, Laudolf invested his last strength, turned - only a golden flash flashed over the cliff, lost in the white-foamed surf. And immediately the rebellious duke, as if his life had flown away along with the stolen ring, settled on the sand in a dead heap. Torvald lowered his shoulders and drooped. Jiad, wiping the blade, came and stood next to him. Sheathing the sword, she secretly admired the thin profile of her prince, beautiful even now: tired, desperate, almost defeated. Yes, it was stupid. It would have been better if Laudolf had left with the ring: there would have been a better chance of getting it later. Yes, she would have turned inside out, but she caught up with the damned Duke and returned the priceless ring! There was a lump in her throat from impotent pity and resentment at fate, which was so unkind to her beloved.

“Everything is lost, G,” Torvald whispered. “I simply won’t make it in time without the ring...

Turning, he hugged Giad, and she readily moved towards him, pressed herself, throwing her arms over her broad shoulders under the heavy chainmail jacket that she had almost forced the prince to put on before the chase. She inhaled the familiar smell from damp blond hair and a hot body, froze, thinking that without the cursed ring the coronation was impossible, and the council was already looking for the slightest opportunity to appoint a regent for Torvald. Under which he is unlikely to live to see his own reign.

“We have to get it,” she said out loud, gently pulling away.

- How? Did you see the cliff?

- I’ll take a look now.

Giad approached the edge of the cliff, which sloped steeply into the sea. Yes, it's creepy, of course. Twenty times her height. Although, maybe it’s all so scary from above? But there’s no way to go down to the sea. Unless you jump off. Let's say she's not afraid to jump - it's not for nothing that she grew up in the mountains near the sea - but then what? If the bottom is flat, you can find the ring, but you should hurry before the tide begins to ebb. What's the depth there? Is there enough air? And how many times will you have to dive...

“We have to go back for the people,” Torvald answered her thoughts, coming to his senses and starting to think like a prince. - Send divers, but quickly. Thank the gods that I have a sea key.

- What is?

- Sea Key. An amulet that allows you to breathe underwater. Haven't you heard of these?

Giad looked down again. Breathe, you mean? Interesting.

- And how does it work? Can I get some for divers?

“Well,” Torvald smiled slightly absentmindedly. - It is a rarity. The key in our family is passed down from generation to generation. Once upon a time there were a lot of them,” he pulled out an aquamarine pendant from under his shirt, “but we were still friends with Irenaze back then.

“Irenaze...” Jiad repeated slowly, looking over her prince’s shoulder at the sea. -Can’t they help? This is their property, isn't it?

- Their. But even if the sea people agree, as long as you find them, as long as you beg them... And most likely they will refuse, they don’t like people.

“In the meantime, the ring will be carried away by the ebb of the tide or washed away by the sand in the tide,” concluded Giad. - Give me the amulet here.

- Lost her mind?

Torvald's gray eyes opened wide, either in fear or in admiration. Brazenly taking advantage of the fact that there really was no one alive nearby, Giad ruffled the prince’s soft brown hair, which was so different from her own - hard, unruly, blue-black - again pressed herself against his wide chest, raising her lips to meet the kiss. And then, with difficulty tearing herself away, no matter how much her body, yearning for affection, begged to be pampered a little more, she took the amulet from Torvald’s neck, twirling a transparent green-blue stone on a thin silver chain before her eyes. How many times have I seen it on the prince’s bare chest, but it never occurred to me to ask about the inexpensive-looking, strange trinket.

- How does it work? Just put it on? And how long does it last?

“Just put it on,” Torvald confirmed confusedly. - And it is endless. Just don't shoot underwater. I was playing around in the castle pond when I was little... Gee, maybe I shouldn’t? It’s dangerous... What if Irenase... And how will you get down?

“Somehow,” Jiad smiled diligently. - It’s okay, I’ll try quickly. Well, if I’m delayed, then go back to the city, and they’ll send someone here. With a horse, dry clothes and a flask of wine.

Not paying any more attention to Torvald, who was trying to say something, she unfastened the belt with the sword and threw off the heavy jacket stitched with iron plates. I left the dagger on my belt in case I had to cut the thickets at the bottom. Approaching the very edge of the cliff, I looked closer at the sea. The azure-shiny water, shining in the sun like small silver ripples, curled with snow-white lambs near the shore. From above they looked completely harmless, but Giad knew that the surf was treacherous. The salty sea air smelled of seaweed and fish, but it seemed to be the smell of blood. Maybe it didn’t seem like it – there are so many corpses behind us. Dispelling stupid premonitions, she tried it on. If you jump, then vo-o-he’s there! There is a relatively calm place without breakers, where there is unlikely to be an underwater rock. Well, if you're not lucky, you won't be lucky. A Priestess of Malkavis must always be ready to appear before him if her time has come. The main thing is that Torvald trusts her, and not justifying this trust is worse than death.

Looking back, she smiled encouragingly at the prince, who had frozen a few steps away. She moved away from the edge, took a running start and, with all her strength, pushed off from the flat rock, as if cut with a knife. The few moments of flight seemed long, as if time had stretched out, like amber-golden resin falling from a tree in viscous drops. Only the sea rushed towards her, making her heart freeze in admiring horror, as happens in a dream when you fly from a height. And then she entered the water, not having time to be truly frightened even at the last moment, when the cool green-blue firmament elastically accepted her into its thickness. I just thought that if it’s a rock, he won’t have time to understand anything...

But the rock was not there. There was only the sea: silky, unyielding dense water, which this time behaved somehow strangely. Immediately going into the depths, Jiad turned around, thinking that she had thrown away the heavy sword in vain, and realized that the water was not pushing her up. And in general, she is not as elastic as she always seemed. You can go down by simply turning around and swimming where you need to go. And everything is suspiciously clearly visible: no usual blurry haze... An amulet?

Current page: 3 (book has 23 pages total) [available reading passage: 16 pages]

- I will make an alliance with whomever you say. I don't care. Let the Karian woman come, I promise to behave decently and not show hostility. You're worried about this, aren't you?

– Alestar, I know that you remember your duty. And isn't your bride beautiful? She is well-mannered and proud of the honor. Maritel will be a good wife, believe me.

“I don’t care,” Alestar repeated, feeling a disgusting chill running through his skin again. - Let it be Maritel.

“Then tomorrow Rual will send a letter to Kariand, and we will begin to discuss the conditions.” You can't expect a rich dowry, but that's okay. The House of Acalante does not chase other people's wealth; it has enough of its own.

Returning to the table, the father carefully placed the portrait of the Carian woman on the stand. Alestar glanced from afar at the girl’s sweet smile and blonde hair, like most Karianians.

“Let them send a couple of concubines,” Alestar could not resist pricking. “Otherwise their princess looks fragile, like a petal of mother-of-pearl.” It’s a little scary to take one to bed – it might break.

“Alestar...” the father frowned.

- Yes, I’m joking, I’m joking... You’d think that imprinting would allow me to float among concubines, like before. Although marriage is not coming soon...

“It’s not too soon yet - go for walks to your heart’s content,” the father grinned slyly. - Who will refuse you?

“You,” Alestar muttered, fiddling with the tip of the belt in his hands. “I’m tired of all these sweet faces... Let me have a two-legged concubine.” At least one!

Alestar looked in surprise at his father’s angrily flaring nostrils. Something was happening to his vision: everything was swimming before his eyes, as if he was in muddy water, his eyes were stinging and burning.

- No bipeds! Do you remember my order? And don’t go upstairs without permission.

“Yes, I remember,” Alestar snapped habitually, not without gloating, thinking that today he himself didn’t swim up - which means the oath was not broken. At the time, the father did not guess that one of the bipeds would come down from above, which had not happened for three hundred years. – Could you at least explain why?!

– Is my word not enough for you? – the father asked coldly.

- I am your son. Therefore, it is not enough.

Alestar stubbornly withstood his angry gaze, but then the king waved his hand resignedly.

- Fine. I'll tell you before more trouble happens. It was long overdue, of course. At the same time, you will understand why we don’t have a very wide choice of spouses for you. Here…

Swimming up to the only small fresco in the corner of the office, he motioned for Alestar.

- Look. What do you see?

In the fresco, a red-haired, blue-eyed girl, similar to Alestar himself, like a twin sister, took off on the crest of a wave, stretching out her hands to the fiercely burning luminary. The silhouette of a ship could be seen in the distance...

“A story of sorts,” Alestar responded obediently. – Three hundred years ago, Princess Israel met someone she considered her mate – a two-legged royal. She captured him as her wife, and then was betrayed by him and died.

“Oh yes...” the father said in an unfamiliar voice, without taking his eyes off the fresco. - That’s how it was. Everyone knows this story. We avenged the death of Iraeli, the alliance with the two-legged was forever broken, but look... Your mother had wonderful golden hair and brown eyes, I am dark-haired and dark-eyed, and you, our only child... Don’t you see?

Alestar shrugged his shoulders silently, feeling his ears ringing more and more, and a heat spreading inside him, as if he had again eaten poisonous fish, like in childhood.

“You are like two peas in a pod,” the father said quietly. – The same hair, eyes, face... It’s as if she herself returned to us, an unfortunate girl, incarnated in a man’s body. She was the direct heir, Alestar. Not a side branch cut down by a biped's blade, but a future queen and only child in the family. There was no younger prince Klenias, from whom the lineage supposedly continued. Then, before her death, she left a child, who became the toy of two-legged creatures. The son of Iraeli, the heir of Akalante, was kept, as amusement, in a barrel of water... Until the sea came to Ausdrang. And when it subsided, the corpse of little Irenaze was not found in the ruins of the royal palace - and there was no one to look for it. And in the palace appeared Prince Klenias, the heir, who, due to poor health, grew up in the Temple of the Three. He was indeed in poor health at first, a poor boy, but he grew up and became Klenias the Brave. In our veins, in the blood of the house of Acalante, the blood of bipeds flows, Alestar. The human blood of Prince Ausdrang, murderer and traitor.

“Impossible,” Alestar whispered, looking at the happy smile of the long-dead princess. - No, father... Blood... of these creatures?

- Yes. Their blood. Now do you understand why I forbade you to have two-legged concubines? You cannot be imprinted with any of our kind living in the kingdom. Only with someone else. And you know this very well, so you will not lie with anyone except those who are of the same blood with you - the blood of Acalante. I'm calm here. But bipeds...

– Imprinting with a biped? – Alestar whispered in horror. - How?

– Just as it happened three hundred years ago with Israel. And there was no bipedal blood in her - just evil fate... One possibility out of countless. It’s like catching a drop dissolved in the whole sea on your tongue. If something like this happens, it’s much more difficult for you to avoid being imprinted. That’s why there are no two-legged concubines in the palace, Alestar. And in general there are no two-legged girls in the entire kingdom.

“No...” Alestar whispered, feeling the heat engulf his body. - I would never... father!

“I hope so,” came my father’s voice from somewhere far away. “But our magicians calculated that you won’t be able to imprint with a purebred Irenaze.” Blood calls for blood, in order for all the elements to come together correctly, your couple must also have at least a particle of bipedal blood. And this, you yourself understand...

“I understand,” Alestar tried to smile so as not to arouse suspicion. – In royal houses, the blood of two-legged people is rare.

- Exactly. And Princess Maritel is one-sixteenth of a person. A little, but it’s enough for us... Alestar? Alestar! Are you not feeling well?

“No, nothing,” Alestar smiled diligently again. – It’s not every day that you learn about this... Will I swim, father?

He still had enough strength to wait for the nod, to turn away from the worried look, doing his best to pretend to be simply upset. The water around flowed not with the usual coolness and warmth, but with unbearable heat. Fever, chills, fever again... Alestar floated along the corridor, and the Irenazes on the frescoes moved, angrily shaking their tridents, leaning worriedly towards each other, watching him with either indignant or sympathetic glances. Imprint! What a fool he is! Not to recognize, not to understand... Although how can he know what he has never experienced? Imprinting with a couple is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And he... Really...

Alestar felt nauseous, as soon as he remembered the pleasure with which he pounded into the biped’s body, and then looked into the eyes filled with furious rage. Mad and completely helpless. Oh yes, it was the most delightful thing: knowing that this beautiful sweet creature wouldn’t dare do anything to him, wouldn’t even raise her hand. And how she moved under Alestar, working off her master’s ring... Fool! The territory near the Pillar is independent. If anywhere a biped could seem safe in the sea, it would be there, in a place where heralds and messengers had long met. But how could she know this? She believed Alestar and obediently lay down on the sand. And then... oh, how good and right everything was! To humiliate, trample her pride, hit her harder... Alestar was within his right! They destroyed his great-grandmother, tortured her, mocked her... And Cassia! The poison that caused Cassia's salta to tear her mistress to pieces was manufactured upstairs - that's all the guards and magicians managed to find out.

The corridor around was swaying from side to side. Streams of multi-colored water floated, burning his skin, like the rays of a star to which he had risen a long time ago, when he was still small. Gritting his teeth, Alestar swam, not paying attention to the occasional servants who came across him, looking at him with surprise and concern. He needed to go to a very specific place. If they don’t help there either... It can’t be true! He couldn't imprint with the damned biped!

In Sanliya’s chambers, where he almost knocked out the door, breaking in with all his might, it was, as always, quiet and completely deserted. Sanlia, who had threaded pearls into long threads, raised her head from her needlework, threw back the black curtain of loose hair that had fallen on her face, and smiled at Alestar. And then she flapped her tail, hastily swimming closer. She took him, powerlessly sank to the floor, into her arms and looked anxiously into his face.

- My lord, are you feeling bad? Healers?

“No,” Alestar whispered, feeling how the cool hands of his beloved concubine seemed to dissolve the heat that engulfed his body. - Sanliya, answer me. Don't ask anything, do you hear? Just answer. Can the imprint be undone? Fix it somehow...

“No, my lord,” Sanlia responded calmly, placing a deliciously cold hand on his forehead. “Once it’s happened, there’s no turning back.”

- And if you kill the one with whom...

– Even if you survive her, it is no longer possible to capture someone else. – Sanlia looked at him worriedly, peering at something invisible to Alestar. - My lord, you...

“Be quiet,” Alestar said through clenched teeth. - No... yet... Why... why is it so... bad... The body is burning. Don't you dare call the healers! Why so bad…

“Lord, you are imprinted,” Sanlia whispered, and even the green of her eyes, always serenely calm, darkened with horror, like the sky before a storm. - Who is she? You need to see her immediately. You cannot break the connection after imprinting. Or you both could die.

“That’s... unlikely,” Alestar laughed, feeling how the laughter turned into a sob. - That is, I am, yes. But she... I don’t think so. Bipeds... don't die... from this.

Already plunging into the hot dark abyss, he managed to think that this abyss was like something. That's right - these are the eyes of that biped...

Chapter 4
Honor and word of the Ausdrangs

“No, Gee, don’t…” Torvald gently pulled away from her embrace and stepped back towards the table. He sat down on it, ruffling his damp hair after the bath. In order for Torvald to go to bed without washing off the day’s dust and sweat, it is necessary to once again drag away the royal ring along with the crown, Giad thought with a grin.

- Why? – she asked out loud, confused. -What's wrong, my prince?

“I’m tired, G,” Torvald smiled embarrassedly, straightening the dying candle in a heavy bronze candlestick next to him with tongs. – I’ve been rushing about all day like a warlock’s demon...

He really looked pale and exhausted, so Jiad felt a pang of conscience. Her prince... no, her king has been on his feet day and night for the second week. Negotiates with the lords of the Royal Council, listens to petitions from merchants and craftsmen guilds, deals with temple complaints and lawsuits of ordinary subjects. Everyone seems to have gone crazy, saddled with the troubles that have accumulated during the year of anarchy on the young king, and he cannot be shown weakness with a word or a look. The vultures will eat you!

“I’m sorry,” she asked quietly, looking into her beloved cloudy gray eyes. - I'm so stupid. Well, of course, you have no time for that. Go to bed, my happiness, I’ll knead your shoulders.

– You’re tired yourself, G...

Torvald pulled his thin linen shirt over his head, barely loosened the lacing at the neck, and lay down on the bed, throwing back the blanket. Giad sat down next to her and looked for a familiar bottle.

“On the table,” Torvald suggested, putting his hands under his chin.

Indeed, the potion that she herself had infused with herbs was found on the tabletop, covered with a pile of thin parchment scrolls.

Returning, Giad sat down on the high edge of the bed and poured fragrant oil into her palm to warm it up. Torvald, relaxed, waited, and Giad admired the youthfully soft skin and slender body, which had not yet gained true masculine power, but already promised it, just as an initially flexible oak tree promises to grow into a majestic tree. The tight muscles gradually gave in to skillful rubbing, but Giad waited until Torvald’s breathing became completely even and slow, only then talking about what had been tormenting her since the morning.

“You know, your castellan said that new chambers are being prepared for me.” In the guard wing, like all bodyguards. And in my current room there will be your dressing room.

- And what? – Torvald responded slightly surprised. “He knows better where to store all these royal rags, since there are more of them.” Gee, you spend half the nights with me anyway, what difference does it make to you where you sleep the other half? And there’s already a lot of unnecessary talk about us.

He was right, of course. What one of the heirs got away with is not permissible for the king. Gone are the days when they lay in the same bed until the morning, kissing and hugging, caressing each other to their heart's content... Giad sighed. But it’s true, since the very day of the coronation they have never shared a bed, making do with hasty, furtive kisses. So that's it?

It seems that she whispered the last words out loud, otherwise why would Torvald, already softened under her diligent hands, tense up and ask again in surprise:

- What all?

“Between us,” Jiad calmly clarified, although everything inside was twisted with resentment. “Is it over, my king?”

- Lost her mind!

Turning over with a jerk, Torvald sat up on the bed, put his hands on Giad’s shoulders, looking into her face. He often became indignant, raising his eyebrows in a funny way, making him look very young and incredibly cute.

- What are you talking about, G! After everything you've done? Do you think I can forget this? Wait a bit! Just wait, okay? Everything will calm down, they will stop watching me, and it will be the same. I will give you the title of Baroness, and no one will dare say a word. Giad, I will never forget your help! I promise there will be both a title and lands...

“No need,” Jiad asked, burying her face in Torvald’s shoulder and kissing the fair skin. “No need for a title, my king.” And everything else too. I just want to be close. Your bodyguard, maid, whatever you want. Promise me this - and you don’t need any other rewards.

“I promise,” Torvald said firmly, holding her in his arms for several long sweet moments and again pulling away with a sigh. – Word of honor of the Ausdrangs. You will always be with me, my love. Okay, have you calmed down?

Smiling clearly, he fell onto the bed, clasped his hands behind his head, ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, knowing full well how it worked, and whispered:

- You know, I changed my mind. Come here.

- Exactly? – asked Jiad, not believing her happiness. - You're tired...

“It’s okay, I’ll rest,” Torvald snorted, pulling off his tight pants with undisguised relief. “Tomorrow I’ll send everyone away with their business and rest... Come here, I say.” This is a royal order after all!

“I listen and obey,” Jiad grinned, placing her palms on the king’s knees, where his trouser legs were stuck. - Let me help Your Majesty...

Pulling off the patterned dark satin, she sent the pants, following the shirt, onto the chair by the bed, then gently ran her palms from below, from the very ankles, up to the slender hips, turning white in the semi-darkness. Leaning over, she kissed her smooth, warm belly.

“I want you,” Torvald whispered, leaning forward. - Come on, G. I miss you so much... Caress me as best you can.

– Is this also an order? – Giad teased him, catching his male pride with her lips. - I can’t help but obey...

“Oh yes,” Torvald breathed, gripping the sheets with his fingers and spreading his knees wider. - Let's! G-i-i...

It was worth everything, Giad realized with hot, languid tenderness, listening to the ragged breathing and quiet intermittent moans. Jumping into the sea, pain, shame... Having dropped his heavy, hot palms onto her shoulders, Torvald demanded to meet her, whispered something incoherently, and when Giad pulled away, breathing heavily, he looked pleadingly and drunkenly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Jiad smiled, finding herself on the bed next to the king’s prone body in one flexible movement. “You won’t get rid of me so quickly.”

Smiling in response, Torvald opened his arms towards him and said quietly:

- My Giad. Queen of my heart...

Instantly flushed with embarrassment, Giad kissed the sweetest lips in the world, completely forgetting that she herself still had the taste of Torvald’s male flesh on her lips, and covered her neck and collarbones, the roundness of her shoulders and the hollow of her chest with hasty, greedy kisses. She touched the pink nipples with her mouth and fingers, circling the creamy aureole around them with her tongue. Then, without ceasing to caress, she whispered:

- Say it again...

-About the queen? – Torvald asked hoarsely, pulling her towards him, helping her sit on top.

- About the heart! – Giad exhaled, sinking onto his hips with one long slow push and screaming from the crazy happiness filling her entire being.

Resting her palms on Torvald's chest, bending over him, she slid up and down, giving as always generously and shamelessly, openly enjoying the hot rigidity of men's palms on her hips, every touch and push inside. And the well-deserved bliss intertwined and twisted them together, turning them into a single whole, one trembling and shuddering lump of sweet hot spasms.

“It’s so good...” Torvald exhaled with a groan, leaning back on the pillows. - Ji-i-i...

“Yes,” Giad whispered. - Yes I love. My... Torvald...

She would never show disrespect in public, and she didn’t allow herself too much in private, but now, wet with sweat and shamelessly naked, she was thrilled in the arms of not King Ausdrang, but simply Torvald. Her beloved...

“You’re wonderful,” Torvald responded, closing his eyes blissfully. - What a pity. We will never be understood...

“It doesn’t matter,” Jiad said sincerely. - If only you...

She didn’t finish, suddenly ashamed that she was whining too often anyway. Torvald has already promised - what else? She wrapped her arms around the supple, hot body, kissed her temple, removing the damp light strands from it.

“I’ll leave now,” she said quietly, as if apologizing. - Nobody will see.

Torvald lay next to him, relaxed, quiet, smelling deliciously of passion and her, Giad. Then he turned slightly and stood up on his elbow.

- Mmm? – Jiad responded.

-Will you do something for me? There is one assignment, I can’t trust it to anyone else, and it’s urgent...

– So urgent? – she clarified, sighing a little on display.

“Very,” Torvald responded guiltily. “I was going to send you, but... I couldn’t resist.”

Turning to him, Jiad extended her hand and stroked his cheek.

“Speak,” she said simply. - I'll do everything.

- You are a miracle, G! – Torvald breathed out with such admiration that Giad involuntarily smiled. - There's a package on the table. He needs to be taken to the Three Goldfish Tavern and asked for Mr. Karras. Just so that no one sees. The package contains a very important agreement!

“Politics...” Dzhiad drawled, getting up and hastily putting on her pants and shirt, although her body was begging, if not to stay in Torvald’s bed, then at least to get to her own and get enough sleep. - Well, I’ll do it faster, I’ll get the reward faster, right? My king…

Leaning over, she playfully kissed Torvald on the tip of his slightly snub nose and, without looking back, walked out, fastening her belt with blades.

The palace had long been silent, only the guards moved their halberds at the exit, but, recognizing the royal bodyguard, they opened the crossed shafts and hastily saluted. The two big men who froze at the high door, bound in metal, were familiar to Giad, and she was worried whether Torvald’s order “so that no one should see” applied to them as well. But there’s nothing you can do about it; the guards in the palace are vigilant. And who knows what kind of business the lady sword master might have in the city? A date, maybe!

The last thought even made Jiad smile. Can anyone compare to Torvald? It was stupid for her, a rootless foundling, a pupil of the temple, to fall in love with the northern prince to whom the temple sold her blade, but that’s what happened. From the first glance at the young, pure face of the heir to the northern king, who came with the treaty to Aruba, Giad realized that she would consider it happiness to serve him. Yes, stupid and arrogant. But Torvald responded to her love - and this became the second greatest miracle and happiness in Giad’s life. The first was that she ended up in the temple of Malkavis.

Turning off the main road to the palace, she walked through the park and turned into the backyard. We didn't sleep here. The windows of the bakeries glowed yellow, where they kneaded the dough for buns and bread for the courtiers' breakfast, so that they could be served hot in the morning. The forge furnace glowed with red reflections, dormant, but not extinguished: the master always kept it ready in case of some urgent repairs, but, of course, no one would allow him to ring his hammer at night. A lantern at the door of the stable threw a yellow circle of light onto the ground—that’s where Giad turned, taking the lantern off the hook to illuminate her way. She went to her stallion's stall and took the harness off the wall. Don't wake up the grooms over such a trifle. Something stirred in the heap of hay in the corner, and a sleepy, freckled face appeared from the grass, blurring into a desperate yawn.

- Go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o...

“Sleep,” Jiad said quietly, recognizing her acquaintance. - I'll sit down myself.

“Yeah...” the boy agreed, yawning sweetly again. - Then I’ll... sleep some more...

- Why are you spending the night here? – asked Jiad, the saddle horse. - The hay is split.

“But no one fights,” the stable boy answered judiciously. - Otherwise, Mr. Chief Groom gets angry if the horses are unattended... Now, if they gave blankets, then that would be fine...

“Well, well...” Jiad responded, leading the horse out of the spacious stall. “Go to sleep, and I’ll talk to the groom tomorrow.”

Not listening to the boy sleepily muttering something as he crawled back into the warm hay, she led the displeasedly snoring stallion into the yard. I thought with sympathy that life is the same everywhere: the elders drive the younger ones around, forcing them to do their work. Surely the senior groom sent one of the adults to the stable, but the freckled saffron milk cap turned out to be the last one. I’ll have to talk to the groom, but in such a way that the boy doesn’t get hurt. He's a great guy: how shiny his cleaned wool is.

The horseshoes clicked loudly, first across the yard, then along the path to the gate, where Giad was again saluted by the guards, and only then along the pavement of the sleepy city, illuminated only by half of the buttery yellow moon. The air breathed with the freshness of the night, and the city was drowned in inky dark shadows, only here and there a few windows shone, and even then they were covered with shutters.

But in the Three Goldfish tavern, conveniently located almost right next to the pier, people had not yet slept or even gathered. Giad had neither the time nor the desire to party in taverns, but she heard from the guards that the beer in the “Herrings”, as the tavern’s regulars called it, is fresh, the wine is made according to conscience, and the snacks are no more expensive than an honest person can afford sailor or soldier. That's why the owner prospers. Looking at the cozy golden windows of the tavern and inhaling the delicious smells of fried meat and fish from the half-closed door, it was easy to believe.

Stepping onto the low porch - so that no one would fall down drunk - Giad walked into the hall, thoroughly saturated with the special spirit of such establishments: a mixture of the smells of food, beer, men's sweat, tanned leather and fresh fish. She approached the counter, where the owner, wearing an apron stained with grease stains, but surprisingly clean and good-quality clothes, was laying out fried sausages on a platter. The next portion was already sizzling in the cast-iron frying pan behind him, and Giad felt her mouth fill with saliva. I immediately remembered that she missed dinner, changing guards in place of the sick captain, and then there was no chance to go into the kitchen or send someone for food, because Torvald called... Okay, that will wait. You need to give the package back, and you can have a snack on the way back.

“I’m looking for Karras,” she told the owner, leaning on the counter so that she could see the tavern and the door behind her, “just out of habit.”

“There is one,” the owner responded, looking indifferently: in Ausdrang, fortunately, no one was particularly surprised at women in men’s clothing and with weapons; there were plenty of mercenaries here. “He’s waiting for someone in the back room.” Will you order dinner to be served?

“Later,” Giad smiled. “I won’t be long, and then I’ll have dinner in the common room.” Or I’ll even take it with me.

The owner, nodding, called a boy scurrying around the hall, a little older than the red-haired stable boy, muttered to him about the back room where the mistress should be taken. Giad obediently walked through the door on the side of the counter and further along the dark corridor - the tavern turned out to be unexpectedly rather large. Poking his finger at the right door, the waiter disappeared before Giad fished a coin out of her pocket. Well, his business... Behind the heavy, unlocked door was a room lit by a couple of candles and a tall man in a leather jacket, trousers and hunting boots, standing with his back to the window. Giad, crossing the threshold, did not have time to see anything else, because as soon as she took another breath, dazzling sparks flashed in her eyes, and then it became dark.

Slowly, very slowly, the world around appeared in the darkness that enveloped Giad. First - sounds. The creaking of the oar against the rowlock, the rustling of the sea waves... She listened to the sounds filling the night around her and did not understand how it happened that she was clearly in a boat. Then the memory returned: Torvald’s errand, the tavern, the room... Without giving the appearance of waking up, Giad tried to comprehend what was happening. She was lying on her side with her hands tied behind her, her legs were also tied at the ankles with something, but someone had taken care to make her comfortable. Below, under her, there was something soft, her eyes were not blindfolded, and the belts on her legs and arms were tight, but did not press... The blades that she had not parted with in recent years, of course, were not there. Her swords! Cold rage surged from within. Who dared? And either she moved, or someone was watching carefully, but then a soft voice came from the darkness:

“Are you awake, lady sword master?” Come on, open your eyes...

Giad forced her eyelashes open, involuntarily wincing from the aching pain in her temples and the back of her head. This turned out to be of little use. There was a lantern at the stern of the boat, but only three dark figures were visible: two rowers in front and a man next to him.

“The headache will pass soon,” this third said apologetically. – Black dope powder is an unpleasant thing, but still much lighter than a bag of sand, for example. Are you thirsty? Or help you sit up? If you feel nauseous, speak up, don’t be shy.

- What you need? – Jiad said gloomily, again covering her eyes from the flash of pain.

“Actually, it’s nothing to us,” her interlocutor responded easily and cheerfully. “Someone else needs you, and we just agreed to deliver you.” Are you sure you don't want water?

Mercenaries, that is. And they take her in a boat... This is what I didn’t like the most. Lately she couldn’t even think about the sea except with disgust, although she used to love to swim, dive, and simply soak up the hot sand in her rare free hours. Well, it’s unlikely they’ll tell her anything...

“Give me some water,” she agreed obediently. - How far is it still to swim?

“Not really,” the man said indifferently, taking a small flask from his belt. - Let me help you sit down. Like this…

Having seated Jiad on the bench next to him, he waited patiently, holding a flask to her lips, which actually contained clean water - a strange choice for a mercenary. But for a person stunned by black dope, this is what you need. It looks like they really were going to treat her well...

– Who sent you, can you tell me? – Giad asked to clear her conscience. - And for what merit are you being so kind to me now, if you started with this rubbish?

“No need to say,” his interlocutor grinned. - We'll be there soon.

Now that Giad’s eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, she could clearly distinguish the subtle features of a native Alahatian, a resident of places famous for their hired swordsmen, archers and other combat masters. The Alahasans considered it beneath their dignity to become ordinary soldiers, but they made excellent lone mercenaries and were fully worth their considerable price. It was this man that Giad saw in “Herrings.”

“You, madam, have been ordered to be delivered with all possible care,” the Alahatian explained with a slight smile. “And if we had pulled out your blades in the tavern, there would have been no way to save them.” So it turned out as it happened.

Leaning against the side, Giad peered into the night.

Where are they taking her? If this is a ship, then why are there no signal lights on the mast? The port is almost empty now. Ausdrang has not traded with other countries for a long time due to the Irenazes sinking ships in coastal waters. What's the point of taking it on a fishing boat?

One of the oarsmen, working steadily with their oars and never turning back to Giad, left the oar, hitting the rowlock. The second followed his example. Taking the lantern from the stern, the rower waved it in the air, and almost immediately a splash responded to him, as if an oar had splashed nearby. Or a big fish. Very large... Or not a fish at all...

“Quiet,” the Alahatian said softly, holding the rushing Giad by the shoulders. - No need to twitch. We put the amulet on you a long time ago, there’s no way to remove the chain. You yourself know how to breathe under water, it seems like this is not the first time for you.

“I’ll kill,” Jiad whispered in helpless despair, realizing who ordered her to be kidnapped. - I’ll come back and kill you.

“Your sacred right, if possible,” agreed the Alahatian. - Goodbye, madam.

Pulling with all his might the struggling Giad by the shoulders, he easily picked her up in his arms and threw her into the impenetrable darkness. Having fallen into the water, Giad floundered in involuntary horror, spitting and squirming, but her tied hands did not allow her to do anything - nothing at all! And then they pulled her by the legs, dragging her into the depths, she struggled for some time, trying not to breathe, but the air ran out, and the already familiar sharp pain from the water pouring into her lungs covered her completely, flooded her - and retreated much faster than before .

The water around was seething, accelerated by the blows of heavy, powerful tails. Jiad could not see anything in the darkness, but she guessed that not only the damned Irenazes were nearby, but also their riding fish beasts. Her ears were blocked - she was immediately pulled in quite deeply - but it was more uncomfortable than painful, and her captors were silent, not deigning to say a word to her. Jiad felt rather than saw that there were two of them nearby. One grabbed her more comfortably by the shoulders, pressing her to him, the second, who had previously been pulling her down, let go of her legs and disappeared somewhere. The water continued to beat in tight splashes and waves, then Jiad was simply unceremoniously thrown, like a pack, over the back of the fish beast, and a belt lashed from above. She still had time to think that she never had time to give the package, and Torvald would never know what happened to her. And that there was something wrong with the bag, but it’s not clear what, because her head still hurts... Then nausea overtook her, the water seemed hot, red and generally looked like blood - and Giad lost consciousness again.

The second awakening turned out to be even more painful than the first. Coming to her senses, Giad barely restrained herself from groaning and was glad that she had not had time to eat. The stomach was trying to crawl out through the throat, the insides were cramping with painful spasms, and a blacksmith’s hammer was beating in my head, unerringly hitting the sore spot. Stubbornly opening her eyes, she peered into the swaying mud, not understanding whether there was real water around her or whether she was just imagining it. Alas, heavy breathing, and the green-blue world around, shrunk to the confines of a small room - everything said that one could not count on sleep or delirium. Water. There was water all around...