The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“No,” Arel shook his head negatively, “it is more ancient. It was used by priests during some holidays dedicated to fertility. I don’t remember… but I remember that my father never touched it and never drank from it just like that, only on the Harvest Festival all family members took turns taking a sip from it. I was a child, but they also let me sip from it.”

“Why does glass change color from green to purple?” Kors asked, fiddling with the gift and obviously admiring it.

Arel looked somewhat bewildered at the table, where apples and bunches of black grapes lay on a dish:

“It seems… this symbolizes the ripening of grapes…”

Kors admired his cup now:

“Thank you, Prince Arel.

“You are welcome, I’m not greedy,” Arel smiled a little condescendingly.

“And for me it is valuable,” said Kors, “as well as the fact that Nik accepted and wears my gift,” he looked at Nik and at the chain that gleamed on his cheek.

Kors thought with pleasure that no matter how angry Nik was with him, annoyed, down-hearted or offended, he still continued to wear the chain put on by Kors and didn’t take it off. He didn’t even think about doing it. Nik probably didn’t realize how important this was to Kors, and how it turned him on every minute Kors looked at his Nik and saw the chain hanging down when Nik tilted his head, or slapped him on his face with his sudden movements. Nik didn’t seem to notice these inconveniences and the fact that the chain obscured the edge of his lips. Sometimes it obviously interfered with him, and then he himself held it with his hand, slightly shifting it to the side, but he never said anything to Kors about this and didn’t take off the jewelry.

“Nik, do you like wearing my chain?”

“Here it’s starting again…” Nik drawled. “I said yes.” He pulled his cloak tighter, pulling the collar all the way up to his nose.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes. Vitor, I had a chain from the nostril to the ear before you, I often put it on, Arel will confirm it for you. I’m used to it. Everything is fine. If you want, give me a second one.”

“N-n-no…”

“You can hang it not on the other side of my face, but next to this chain. Insert the second ring into my nostril and attach the chain to the other hole in my ear. Do you want me to return the nose ring? Will you attach the chain to it?”

“Then it will be inconvenient for me to kiss you, it will interfere. Don’t say it, Nik, please don’t seduce me, don’t provoke me!”

“You can do whatever you want with my appearance,” Nik said, “I’m yours. You shouldn’t have broken your blue stone ring, I really liked it. I love being yours.”

Kors couldn’t find suitable words from the emotions that swept over him.

And Nik carefully and somehow stubbornly looked at him. Now the soft evening light from the half-open shutters fell directly on his eyes, illuminating them and making them even brighter and more transparent, gray-blue. Kors saw that his right eye, no longer covered by bangs, was not squinting to the side so strongly.

“Nik…my boy…I really appreciate your words. Should I cover the shutters? Does the light bother you?”

“No,” Nik shook his head, “I began to see better. And my eye is recovering. Thank you for your treatment, daddy-sir.”

“You have unbelievably beautiful eyes!” Kors couldn't stop staring at him, his stomach aching sweetly. “No, light eyes are still more beautiful than brown ones.”

“And I like the ones like yours,” Nik disagreed, “your eyes are more beautiful.”

Kors looked at his reflection in the mirror: his face was swollen, there was a purple bruise on his lower jaw, and under his eye, too, which made his eyes, so beautiful, according to Nik’s eyes, look squinted because of swelling:

“Yeah…” unable to resist, he sighed sadly and immediately felt Nik shrink inside. Kors looked up at him in surprise. Nik’s expression was slightly ashamed, embarrassed, he completely buried his nose in the collar.

“He is ashamed! Kors understood. “He is ashamed of himself for beating me and smashing my face!”

It cheered him up and made him a little happy. Kors turned to Prince Arel lying on the bed:

“Arel, give me your dye, please!”

“Why do you need it?” Arel asked, and at the same time there was neither surprise nor interest in his voice.

“I want to dye my face. We’re going back to the Black City, how am I going to get there with a face like that?”

“Vitor, is it because of Zagpeace?” Nik was surprised. “Are you afraid to disobey the order of true blacks?”

“Of course not! I didn’t care about their punishment! I just want to cover up the bruises. I don’t want to be seen with bruises, it’s shameful.”

And Nik cringed again.

“But you’re a master,” he remarked cautiously, “masters shouldn’t paint their faces, it’s even more shameful than bruises, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but now I am with you, along with the disgraced prince Arel, and I will paint my face as one of the prince’s people, as a sign of solidarity with him and belonging to your team.”

But Arel, who had been so relaxed before, suddenly sat up abruptly on the bed and said: