Trophy for a Tyrant. Vol. 1. Black King
8 hrs. 43 min.
Language
Russian
Author
Alexander Werth
Author
Alexander Werth
Narrator
Yury Mironenko
Narrator
Yury Mironenko
Description
“Don’t,” Canelia groaned, realizing for real what it would all end with.
“Everything is fine, Kenley,” the queen said softly, then urged her horse and dashed at a gallop for a couple of meters before stopping. She said something to her companion and then snatched the banner from her hands, swung it, and drove the pole between the stones so that the red cloth with a black pyramid caught the first gust of wind and unfurled as a huge wing beside her shoulder.
A group of a dozen riders headed toward her. The man in gilded armor rode at the front of this group and gave an ominous smile—the grin of a well-fed fox.
“Do you want to talk to me, you crownless whore?” he asked, laughing.
“Give up. Hand over your mountains, and I’ll talk to you on your bed—like women are supposed to be talked to.”
“A lot of loud words from someone who’s afraid to take a step without protection,” Queen Astora answered calmly.
“Maybe their help is needed not only in negotiations, but also in bed?” She spoke deliberately loudly so that the echoes of the mountains would catch her voice and carry it to the warriors.
They laughed. Canelia didn’t understand why, but she couldn’t stand aside. In defiance of her mother’s order, she ran forward and froze, holding her breath.
“Everything is fine, Kenley,” the queen said softly, then urged her horse and dashed at a gallop for a couple of meters before stopping. She said something to her companion and then snatched the banner from her hands, swung it, and drove the pole between the stones so that the red cloth with a black pyramid caught the first gust of wind and unfurled as a huge wing beside her shoulder.
A group of a dozen riders headed toward her. The man in gilded armor rode at the front of this group and gave an ominous smile—the grin of a well-fed fox.
“Do you want to talk to me, you crownless whore?” he asked, laughing.
“Give up. Hand over your mountains, and I’ll talk to you on your bed—like women are supposed to be talked to.”
“A lot of loud words from someone who’s afraid to take a step without protection,” Queen Astora answered calmly.
“Maybe their help is needed not only in negotiations, but also in bed?” She spoke deliberately loudly so that the echoes of the mountains would catch her voice and carry it to the warriors.
They laughed. Canelia didn’t understand why, but she couldn’t stand aside. In defiance of her mother’s order, she ran forward and froze, holding her breath.
