The Mist and the Lightning. Part 18. Ви Корс
with everyone! Even with Leonardo, who was initially very loyal and sympathetic to him. Yes, your father was a rare kind of shit…”
“I killed him,” Arel said calmly.
At these words, Valentine froze and shrank even tighter.
“Yes, now the owner will kill me too. Exactly.”
“You killed him?” Kors was surprised. “After all, it was an accident, a fatal coincidence: Chester burned down in a fire in your ancestral chapel, when he offered prayers to the Gods.”
“It was already afterwards,” said Arel, “first I killed him, and then he burned down in the chapel, because I set it on fire.”
“But! Arel! How did you deal with him? After all, you were at that time… mmm… no more than sixteen years old, and he was such a healthy and tall, experienced warrior.”
“He was on his knees and prayed, kept whining and complaining to the Gods about injustice and his unhappy fate, as usual. I just quietly approached from behind and cut his throat, then stuck a knife in his back, up to the handle, and then again and again… He didn’t expect this: he wheezed, grabbed his neck with his hands, tried to stop the blood. He considered me a weakling and didn’t take me into account,” Arel smiled bitterly. “He didn’t have time to do anything. And I hit him from the back. It wasn’t fair.”
“I don’t blame you,” Kors stretched out his hand and gently stroked Arel’s head, slightly burying his fingers in thick, parted strands, admiring how the gold rings on his hand glittered beautifully in the prince’s dark hair. “Your father really was the true shit and deserved to die like that. I am sorry for you, sorry that you were forced to do this, to take on this burden, to do this wrong act in order to save your life. He is to blame, he forced you to get dirty in this filth, dragged you along with him into hatred.”
Arel smiled sadly and unconsciously tilted his head a little tighter, pressing it to Kors’ stroking hand. He looked at him with sincere love and fatherly tenderness.
“I felt such relief then,” continued Arel, “it was one of the best moments of my life: happiness, and a little fear that I was the owner of a huge Castle and would not be able to cope with all matters. But everything turned out to be not as difficult as I feared. I could live without flinching at his voice, without jumping into a corner at the sound of his footsteps along the corridor; I could talk loudly and say whatever came into my head, laugh, sleep as much as I wanted, order the servants to set the table at the time I wanted, and eat and drink what I wanted. Actually, I was finally able to have my time! And invite my friends to visit. I didn’t need to hide everything from that freak all the time…”
Kors, in a fit of feelings, pressed Arel’s head to his chest, pressing on the back of his head in the same way as he often did with Nik, and said with the same passion:
“My poor boy, you didn’t tell me anything during the interrogation, you didn’t confess.”
“You weren’t particularly interested in him.”
“Yes. Everyone believed that he burned down in this chapel. Nobody thought of you. But what about Valentine, Arel?” Kors returned to the beginning of their conversation. “Let me see, maybe he doesn’t look so much like Chester?”
Arel, and Kors noticed this with pleasure, with some regret pulled away from his hand and, taking out the key from his pocket, looked at his frozen slave.
“On your knees! Crawl over here!” He ordered, and Valentine immediately collapsed to the floor.
The helmet completely covered his head and wrapped around his neck, it was tightly laced up and additionally closed at the back with a lock so that Valentine could under no circumstances take it off on his own. However, Valentine would never have dared to do this even without these tricks. Moreover, on his throat an iron slave collar was put, very similar to the one that Nik once wore. Wide and heavy, tied tightly, it covered his neck, resting the upper edge against the chin, not allowing Valentine to fully turn his head.
To remove the helmet from Valentine’s head, Arel first had to loosen the lacing a little. After unbuttoning the lock, he finally pulled the edges of the helmet out from under the collar with some effort.
“Lift your face and look at sir Kors,” he ordered, opening his slave.
Valentine’s face was dirty, because on the campaign Verniy had no time to take care of the boy properly. And Arel rarely gave him the key. But despite the dirt, deep streaks of scars on his cheeks and the absence of one eye, poor Valentine’s clear resemblance to Chester was evident, and no injury could hide it.
Kors shook his head in disappointment.
“Yeah… Arel, it looks like you were right. Damn it! He is practically his copy!”
Arel was silent.
“Maybe we should dye his face with black paint?” Kors suggested thoughtfully, meticulously examining Valentine, who was grimy and pale with fear. “Rub in the dye the way Nurhg does with her slaves? You can ask the unclean ones for paint, for sure they have not only blue, but also black one. Rub it with black paint and hmmm… cut off his nose,” Kors smiled cheerfully at his idea, imagining disfigured Valentine. “With a black face and no nose, he will cease to be like Chester. No, nevertheless an artist died in me, I have this talent, and I passed it on to my son, not Iness,” he laughed smugly.
Arel said nothing, just rolling his eyes slightly. He had heard these endless self-praises of Kors so many times in his life that he had long been accustomed to letting them pass by.
“I’m just kidding, just kidding,” Kors continued as if nothing had happened. “What’s the point in cutting off his nose? You can’t hide his height, but he will be taller than you, and maybe then me. Arel, he has absorbed the best features of true blacks! You look like a mother, you are all like her. And he… This is unacceptable! Wouldn’t it have been easier to get rid of him immediately and quickly and painlessly, since Chester didn’t have time to do this?”
“Yes, he didn’t have time, and I… I just didn’t know about it. When I arrived at the Estate, Valentine was small, sweet and smart. I became fond to him, and then in the Limit, Verniy began to feed him, heal him, and now…”
“In the Limit, he became what he always was,” said Kors thoughtfully. “That which slept in him, in the Demon’s Limit woke up, came to life and actively developed.”
“Yes,” Arel agreed, “this cursed blood immediately manifested in him.
“Do it now. Get rid of him.”
“No, I can’t, I love him.”
“What?! You knocked out his eyes!” Kors didn’t seem to believe his ears.
“So what? I still love him very much,” Arel pulled Valentine to him. “Do you hear, you moron? I cannot kill you.”
“M-master, I’m n… not worthy of your love, I upset y-you and look like the d-damned, kill me!” As always, from being worried, Valentine began to stutter badly.
“No!”
Kors was stunned.
“Arel, this is so unlike you. I thought it was easy for you to kill slaves.” There was overt surprise in his voice. “How many of them did you kill in your Castle, Arel? My slave, the white half-blood that I gave you, did you kill her?”
“No,” Arel shook his head. “I really loved your gift – Mina – and took care of her. I didn’t give it to anyone. She saved Nik’s life.”
“How?”
“Nik needed Black Water, he lost consciousness and fell into a coma. The doctor transfused him with the blood of the white half-breed Mina, and Nik didn’t die. And Mina also survived, I took care of her. I didn’t let anyone touch her, neither Lis nor Enriki.”
“Arel!” Kors was touched. “I love you, Arel, I love you very much!”
He hugged him again.
“You are like a son to me too. Do you