1. The Trials of Valeriya: Back in Bonds; Chapter 3/15


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    believed—he had the necessary number of noble houses backing him up to make the king consider the motion very seriously. Of course, the Cincumen liked the idea of losing their sovereignty not one bit. But their kingdom was the weakest among the nine Riverine Kingdoms—many people still refer it as eight kingdoms—by a fair margin, whereas Laski was the strongest, and wealthiest to boot. No wonder Durriken had given way to scheming and hiring killers. And it also explains why Danior couldn’t hire assassins from Dolne or Stece. “So it’s about coin, then,” the king said. “No offense, but I do have my doubts about your expertise, and experience. But we do not have time to go looking for a new assassin anymore. If it’s more coin you seek, you shall have it. Name your price.” Durriken waved a chubby hand in front of her, as if in bestowing benevolence. Valeriya deliberated for a while. Laski was a dangerous place for a woman, especially a young and beautiful foreign woman. Laski was the only riverine kingdom where slavery was still openly practiced, encouraged even. Anyone who wasn’t a taxpaying Laski citizen or a registered visitor, could be captured and enslaved, and traded—as she had learnt firsthand at a very young age. Valeriya would have to plan this very carefully. Never had she embarked upon an endeavor this outrageous. It was quite a challenge, in fact. Valeriya liked challenges. And she genuinely wanted to help. “100 dragons,” she announced at length. “What!” Durriken ...
    sat up straight on his miniature throne of a chair. He was interviewing her in his private audience chamber. “But that’s preposterous! This is how much a master assassin would charge, for the assassination of a king no less!” Besides Marsh-King Durriken, his son Prince Danior and Valeriya herself, there was only a very old and frail-looking aide present inside the chamber. And by the look of him, he was either dead, or fast asleep. “I’ll give you … 31 dragons and 25 harts,” he said with finality. “And a good fishing boat,” he added. Valeriya sighed. So this is how it is going to be. “75 dragons and I’ll—” she was going to say ‘suck your dick’, but thought better of it. However weak, Durriken was still a king, and he had been nice enough to her—a commoner!—so far. “75 dragons,” she repeated more firmly. Valeriya and Danior had reached Tanacu in the evening, the day after she’d let the Cincu princeling fuck her. As soon as they had reached the gates of the marsh-king’s wooden palace, the bowing little guardsmen betrayed Danior’s identity. Valeriya was pissed, to say the least. Why the cloak-and-dagger? He was the son—a son, not even the heir!—of the poorest king among the nine, not a long-lost Ilimniri princess! He could’ve at least told her after she had given him the privilege of climbing between her legs! After much screaming and apologizing—the screaming from the femme fatale and the apologizing from the little prince—in front of the apprehensive little guards, Danior had ...
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