“I am Marquis Tiernen, Your Highness.” The balloon fizzled out. “Edward Michel Tiernen.”
That guy had my mother’s name!
Rene barely reigned in a sneer. Right. Bullying and killing a backwater noble was one thing. But a prince?
“Death doesn’t care for names,” I was still smiling. The ring that helped me control myself and stay in human shape was getting hotter and hotter, almost scorching my finger. Stay down, Alex. Soon you’ll kill them both, and everything will be all right. I bit down on my forked tongue, making sure it wouldn’t reveal itself at the wrong time.
Having calmed myself, I slowly pulled out my sword from its sheath, unclasped it, and laid it on the ground next to me. Ronald threw his sheath right in my face, but my reflexes were quick, and I slashed forward, cutting the once grand decoration in half. And it was a decoration—calling it a weapon would be a mockery.
His sheath, and the sword, as well, had so much gilding and gems that a magpie would be envious. Even the blade had a gold engraving, while the pommel could have been easily worn by a court lady as a brooch.
My sword was plain. It had no adornments at all—just dull grey metal with shark skin on the grip. Still, it could easily pierce chainmail and remain just as sharp, almost without any chips.
The duel itself lasted for only twenty seconds. Rene, Ralf, and Leonid formed a triangle, with me and Ronald in the center. Ronald lunged at me, but it was clear by his stance that he had been taught in a fancy Kirnean fencing school, where elegance had always been more important than utility.
I had been taught by Henry—and he had trained me to kill. I didn’t parry his strike. I didn’t have any reason to.
I simply stepped aside and rapidly moved forward, slashing at the opponent’s neck with the very tip of my sword and assuming a low stance. Afterward, I stepped back—I had no desire to ruin my favorite doublet. The wound was...dirty. Blood poured out for several seconds, and Ronald was still trying to press his palms against his throat.
It didn’t help. The instant he died, I knew. A gift of my power.
The plump one turned pale with fright, yet he couldn’t refuse to fight—or I got the right to kill him right where he stood, or the seconds would. Edward Michel Tiernen knew that well. After unfastening his sheath, he pulled out his sword and carefully put the sheath on the stone ground. He was so desperate and afraid that I felt disgusted. To kill this would be tantamount to clearing dung with a sword.
Still, someone had to do it. And that dung would be cleared by me. The fatty didn’t attack first. I stepped forward, slowly, warily.
“Remember, Alex. Cowardly beasts have the most dangerous venom.”
If not for Henry, I would have missed his lightning-fast double attack. With his right hand, he lunged at me with a sword, and with his left, he simply tried to graze me—just a little bit, just a graze... There was a reason why there was only one huge ring on his left hand.
Half-demons had sharp noses. I smelled the poison the second a spike slid out of his ring. So, that was his plan—poison me and kill me after I lost my strength.
What a sleazebag!
I quickly dodged another clumsy blow. Hmm, he had good teachers. He was deliberately acting awkward, trying to look like he was using his left hand to balance himself while waving it in the air helplessly.
It wouldn’t help him anyway.
I caught him at his latest swing, a sidelong cut aimed at my legs. Leaping in the air, I thrust my sword forward and cut off his left hand. A feral scream followed, and Edward sank onto the stone pavement.
I nodded to Viscount Morinar.
“Rene, could you take a look on that intriguing bauble on the viscount’s hand?”
“Which one?”
“That ring. Just cover your hands with something, it’s poisoned.”
Rene carefully pulled the ring off the finger, examined it, and showed it to the other seconds. Thankfully, all of them seemed to be disgusted. Nobody would want to get poisoned simply for being the better fencer—and really, who liked poisoners, other than an executioner?
“Yuck! But Alex, how did you—”
“I’ve read about such toys,” I grumbled.
“We have to tell His Majesty.”
“I assume the other seconds will take it upon themselves,” I said, giving them a pointed look. Their expressions darkened. Of course, it was a stain, a family disgrace. “As for you, Rene, I invite you to have a drink and celebrate our victory...but I don’t know where.”
“With your permission, I will show you the place, Your Highness.”
Rene looked at me. He seemed honest, smiling, offering me his friendship, presumably, sincerely. We turned back and left the dueling ground.
A tavern called Green Rabbit, where he had invited me, turned out to be beyond all praise. The wine wasn’t watered down, the meat was roasted thoroughly, and the service was top quality.
We drank one glass, then another, got into a conversation, and I remembered why the Morinar name had seemed so familiar.
My grandfather had had a treasurer from that family, famous nation-wide for never ever stealing. What would be the point for a gifted count to pilfer money? Stealing was something only hacks did. He had reduced taxes in one area, raised fees a bit in another place, found money to repair the roads, revitalized the trade routes, used merchants’ money to hire guards and clear the bandits—one reform had led to another, a string of successes. Naturally, when Rudolph came to power, that treasurer was quickly fired in disgrace, by popular demand of Abigail’s relatives. He didn’t let them steal, the bastard!
“I’ve heard about your grandfather.”
“Really?”
“My grandfather held him in high esteem. I hope he’s in good health?”
“Unfortunately, Grandpa died a year ago.”
“My heartfelt condolences.” I sounded sincere because I was. I would have loved to get my hands on such a treasurer!
Rene scrutinized me for a bit but seemed to be pleased. He believed me.
“Alas, Your Highness, our family has fallen out of the king’s favor.”
“My Highness lacks his favor as well,” I shrugged casually.
“That is so...sad...”
“Then let us drink and cry,” I grinned.
Rene grinned back. I think we could be friends. As much as half-demons can be friends with humans, at least.
I returned to the palace three hours later, somewhat inebriated, and having been invited by Rene to a Sunday dinner. That would give him enough time to inform his family and get ready—after all, I was a prince and had to be treated in accordance with my status. I didn’t really want that, all those formalities, but...
“Alex, in the beginning, etiquette is your salvation. If you don’t know how to behave, behave as you’re supposed to. Later, you’ll sort it out and find the right way.
Thank you, Rick.
***
In the palace, I was greeted my Tom ripping me a new one for putting my life in danger—and my uncle doing the same for another reason.
Dealing with the first one was simple. I just snorted and said that I wasn’t worth a dump if two gilded parrots could defeat me. Or would cockroaches stomp me to death with their tiny feet, too?
The second one was harder. Uncle was majestic and imposing...and somehow reminded me of a gaudy fool in a village fair. Abigail was pressing her lips together with such force that I could see her teeth—a rat was a rat.
“Alex, how could you do that!”
I fluttered my eyelashes as convincingly as I could. What else would I do? I don’t know anything; I haven’t seen anything; I haven’t killed anyone!
“Two dead bodies in one morning! Viscount Muerlath! Marquis Tiernen! By the way, Duke Tiernen is Her Majesty’s second cousin!”
Oh hell, the rat had some nerve. Making her second cousin a duke? I had to get an execution list, pronto. And the executioners.
I didn’t deign to defend myself
or make excuses. Instead of that, I attacked.
“And here I thought that the queen’s relatives would never say anything like that about their king! In my county, for such an offense, we’d beat a man blind without any niceties!”
Backwards innocence and proper indignation!
Rudolph looked like he had just hit a wall. “For what exactly?!”
“Uncle, with my aunt present...that would be awkward.”
My blush was a persuasive argument. Nobody would ever prove it was caused by spite.
“That is not a problem. I believe that my honor would not be harmed,” the rat said, sneering.
I shrugged. As you wish. I loudly whispered to my uncle, “Uncle, they said that you prefer...men to Her Majesty’s charms!”
Long live demons and half-demons, the best actors in the world!
Rudolph’s face turned red, then white, then crimson. He choked, coughed, and lashed out with such a string of curses that my innocent phrase seemed like a quote from the Bright Saint’s Testament next to it. How could they! To suspect the first knight of the kingdom of such acts! That was something they could never atone for even with their blood! The worst sin of all! Thralls of the Bright Saint burn such people along with the heretics!
Abigail’s colors changed right along with his, as I demonstrated my righteous anger. Eventually, Rudolph calmed down, and I continued to slay.
“Actually, right when they started, I asked them if I understood them correctly, and then challenged them both to a duel! I didn’t want to kill them, but Marquis Tiernen tried to poison me with his spiked ring.”
“A poisoned ring?”
“We found it in the presence of our seconds. I’m sure they will confirm my words.”
“I’ll make sure to do that. Who are they?”
“Viscount Morinar, Baron Lirrio, and Marquis Leclair.”
“Who of them was yours?”
“Viscount Morinar volunteered to be my second. Uncle, I am sorry for all that happened, but such implications...”
“It doesn’t look like you feel any remorse for ending those two young lives,” Aunt was practically hissing. “Young Tiernen was his father’s only heir—”
“Your Majesty, but he was planning to kill himself anyway!” I feigned even more indignation. “You must realize that a true knight and an honorable man could only ever poison himself—he’d never do that to someone else! Especially since it’s not like he could poison anyone else at the royal court...” Abigail coughed. Rudolph, meanwhile, clearly started to ponder who could be poisoned in the palace, and the list was long. “So it’s better for his parents that their son died in a duel. After all, suicide is a grave sin. The Bright Saint would never forgive him!”
That almost shut her up, but the rat waved her tail.
“And Viscount Muerlath?”
“Your Majesty...how could I leave such words about the king unanswered? And I didn’t even demand a duel to the death!”
“I will question the seconds,” Rudolph interrupted us. He rang a bell-pull and nodded to a servant. “Get Baron Lirrio and Marquis Leclaire here. Alex, I won’t delay you anymore. I expect to see you at dinner.”
“Yes, Uncle. Auntie, my compliments...”
I bowed before Abigail and ran away, allowing myself to laugh out loud only in my chambers, in front of Tom, as I recalled the expression on my aunt’s face.
The rat had known she had been cornered. And the case was airtight!
“So, what should we expect?” Tom asked me.
“The same as before. Trouble, and lots of it. And a Sunday dinner at the Morinars’.”
***
The next three days were quiet. I introduced Tom to Rene, and they seemed to get on well, even if, from the sidelines, they somewhat reminded me of two huge cats, sniffing and observing each other.
They hit it off and dragged me for a stroll—to a temple. Where else would three young, healthy guys go to have a taste of life in the capital? Only to the abode of the Bright Saint!
Yet fate, apparently, was against showing our devotion. Along the way, we stumbled upon a brothel called Mistress Eliza’s, and Rene courteously invited us to have a look at that landmark.
And there was a lot to look at there. As luck would have it, that part of my education had been mostly theoretical. It’s not like I could even think about intimacy while I was wearing my true face—very few women considered a tail and scales attractive. And when I learned to change shape, it was too late, as we got Rudolph’s letter...
The only thing left to do was to pick up experience along the way. I did know the theory, however—the most important rules. Never fall in love with just anyone. The list of “anyones” included prostitutes, even those from high society, overly religious girls, liars, hypocrites, gold-diggers, et cetera. Don’t catch a foul sickness—with the list of sicknesses and their symptoms provided—or your happiness would be short-lived.
Don’t trust a woman without having to, unless my life or the lives of my family depended on that trust. Henry’s story was a good cautionary tale. Never underestimate women’s brains—Martha, Mother, Cassandra... All of them were far from stupid; they just hadn’t always shown it so as not to damage the fragile self-esteem of their men.
If I followed these rules, I could find my way out of any situation without leaving my tail in a mousetrap, which, incidentally, was especially relevant to me.
For Tom, everything was easier. He had always been popular with the girls, and I even had felt jealous of him...twice? Or had it been three times? No matter. Such friends were second to none!
Inside, the brothel was noisy, crowded, and filled with smoke, but at the same time, sparkling with glitter and mirrors. There was also lots of female flesh. The girls were all but naked, dressed in semi-transparent patches of cloth and beads and long translucent skirts with such slits that I even started to think they were simply wrapped in fabric. Naturally, underwear was not a part of such outfits.
The eponymous Mistress Eliza came out to meet us. She was a buxom woman in her fifties who wore a dumb expression on her painted face. Just a mask, I thought. You would have to be pretty remarkable to rise from the ranks of prostitutes to a brothel owner. I saw that in her sharp eyes, the quick movement of her eyebrows, the quiet tone she used to order the servants around.
With us, she acted in a completely different way.
“Viscount...”
“Mistress Eliza. Glad to see you.”
Rene was suave as hell. I had to hold back laughter after he kissed the madam’s hand. A court toady would kiss the hand of a princess, or even Abigail herself, with the same exact face.
“Viscount! And here I thought that you had forgotten us! Louise has bawled her eyes out...”
“Forget your home, mistress? Never!”
“And who are the handsome gentlemen with you?”
“Mistress Eliza, let me introduce you...Alexander Leonard Radenor.”
I bowed before the elderly madam and touched her hand with my lips just like Rene had. Why not? Was she any worse than Auntie? She just hadn’t been lucky enough to sell herself to the king.
“Mistress, meeting you is an honor.”
Eliza clearly knew who I was. She laughed, and for a second, her mask slipped.
“Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”
“But not like His Highness Andre?” I flashed a mischievous smile.
“How could you think so ill of us? We’re equally excited to see all princes du sang.” There it was, that remarkable intelligence of hers. I liked it that she wasn’t hiding from us. We weren’t considered potential enemies anymore.
“What about their friends? Mistress, this is Thomas Arnes.”
Tommy bowed just as elegantly as I had, all manners and charm, clearly making an impression on Eliza.
Now, if we wanted to laugh at her and set her up, we could easily have done that. But I knew that she was respected by Rene, which meant we had to pay close at
tention to her.
“Welcome, sirs, and feel yourselves at home...”
It didn’t feel like home, but I obediently sat down on one of the couches, made myself comfortable, and put an arm around a red-headed cutie who sat next to me. My hands slid down her curves, and I felt arousal.
So soft...
I ordered some sweets for the girl, listened to her chirping about something, and became more and more aroused...until I sensed scales starting to form on my spine.
I breathed in, breathed out, pulled myself together and calmed down.
The scales disappeared. I put my hand back on the red-haired girl’s lap, moved up...what, again?!
That time, I realized that I was losing control of my tongue, and my fangs suddenly didn’t quite fit in my mouth.
What should I do?
When I relaxed, I returned to my human form, but any excitement made me look like what I actually was.
The girl wasn’t supposed to see my demon shape, or I would have to kill her—and that would have been too much for my first experience.
My friends had already gone upstairs with the girls they had chosen, while I was still sitting there and thinking. Will I have to remain a virgin for the rest of my life? I didn’t really like that prospect.
The red-haired girl was looking at me with a puzzled expression, and all I could do was mull over potential escape routes. My face was saved by Mistress Eliza, who tsked at the girl and sat right next to me.
“Your Highness?”
“Everything’s all right, Mistress,” I replied to her unspoken question. “It’s just—”
“It’s just not your thing. I get it.”
“Mistress?”
“You’re so unlike your uncle. But your grandfather...”
“Did he..?”
Her smile turned sad.
“He came here...sometimes. I was so much younger back then...”
“Could you tell me about him? Please?”
I didn’t have to persuade her much. Mistress Eliza was eager to remember her youth, and I was quite interested in learning more about my grandfather and mother and what they had looked like to others—especially to such unexpected people.
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