Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part 17

“She's wearing a veil, and I can't see her face, maybe she's ugly.”

“Invite her to dance and see.”

“Let her write notes to Arel, he is a handsome prince, and I am already old for this. I'm not interested in flirting.”

“Dad, don’t sell yourself short, well, what the talks of being old?! If she is so disposed to you, I think that business may not be limited to flirting.”

“So that her relatives would force me to marry her later? Well, no,” Kors laughed.

He brought the note to the candle, burning it:

“Let her look for someone else.”

But in his heart he was very pleased that this girl singled out him, and not young and beautiful Arel sitting next to him.

24

Blood ties

And the holiday went on.

Vitor Kors, Nikto and Arel left the main banquet hall for a while and went to the room that the reds called the hookah lounge, and for the blacks the hookah was a curiosity.

Vitor Kors was sitting on a soft sofa, buried in brocade pillows. In his life, he had already tried this fun of the reds, and he liked it. Therefore, he enjoyed the moment and, at the same time, with his arm bent at the elbow, he relaxed hugged his Nik, who sat next to him, around the neck. Kors pressed his head to his chest, kissing the bright top of his head every minute. Nikto didn’t resist at all and allowed Kors to hug him and press him to himself as he wanted. With his free hand, Kors stroked his bangs. Nikto’s ponytail had long been disheveled, but Kors didn’t care now. He didn’t brush his hair anymore, he didn’t alter his tail, he just stroked and fiddled gently through his hair, ran over the bangs that obscured Nik’s face and his eyes, without removing it or opening his face, stroking him like a beloved pet – a cat or a dog.

Only sometimes, between puffs, he nevertheless slightly shifted his white hair aside, leaning towards the face of Nikto and kissing him gently on the forehead or eyes:

“I love you, I love you, let me kiss you on your such beautiful long eyelashes…”

Lis’ father entered the hookah lounge, he winced, trying not to inhale the smoke, Igmer clearly intended to disturb their bliss, and Kors looked a little questioningly and arrogantly at him, not caring at all about his reputation and what Igmer might think, did not change his posture and didn’t let Nikto go.

“Vitor Kors, we need to talk,” said Igmer. But Kors only smiled smugly, continuing to hug his Nik, he didn’t make a single movement towards Igmer. He stood in front of him, and Kors continued to sit imposingly lounging on the pillows.

Igmer hesitated, and seeing that Kors was not going to get up and somehow show his respect, he continued:

“Can we go out and talk?”

“About what? I have no secrets from my Nik and Prince Arel. Tell me now, what do you need?” Kors took a deep drag and blew fragrant smoke from his mouth towards Igmer.

“Well, well…” It was noticeable that Igmer barely restrained himself, and Kors saw it. “Well… Kors… I noticed that you advise my son a lot, did you write a new set of rules and laws?”

“Yes,” answered Kors, “so what?”

“My son listens to your opinion…”

“Listens?” Kors chuckled. “He follows him. Because it is correct.”

“The code of laws that you wrote and which he began to follow is wrong.”

“WHAT?!”

“It is wrong,” Igmer repeated with pressure, and it was evident with what difficulty this conversation was given to him, “wrong. There are too many restrictions and unreasonably cruel punishments for the slightest offense. The endless curfew and access system paralyzed the city. Residents of Ore town are free townspeople, they are not used to this. You literally locked them home!”

“Yes? Well, let them get used to it!”

“Vitor Kors, I repeat, your rules are too strict and need to be revised.”

“You are not the head of this town, the head of the town is Li… Sigmer, and he agrees with my vision of the situation.”

Kors looked at Igmer with a grin, continuing to carelessly stroke the matted bangs of his Nik, who, pressed by his hand, couldn’t turn his head. And Kors tightly pressed his unscarred left half of his face to his chest, and Nik’s right eye, covered with bangs, could not see, and therefore Nik didn’t look at Igmer, without moving in Kors’ hands, and he himself leaned towards him, slightly removing his head from his chest, and, moving his bangs, kissed the slanting and almost blind eye, again pressing it to him. With a grin, he looked at Lis’ father:

“My laws are correct. And I'll put things in order here. Your son does as I say, because, unlike you, he understands that I am absolutely right. I helped him and I brought him here, not you! Don’t ask for indulgence for the reds, it will not be. The town has a new law. Where were you before? Your son has accomplished everything without you. He came to Ore town without you! You initially accepted him only when you saw him in the battle of Komra, he fought bravely and you liked him. And now you accepted him when he won. Where were you, Igmer, before that? You know, just like you, I had a woman of a different race, but, unlike you, I fell in love with her, married her, and my children are legitimate! And you just fucked this little black girl and threw her away with the baby! Is not it? What can you tell me about cruelty?!”

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