An excerpt from Devil's Daughter

     The Sins of Reem is the first book in a new series I've told you about. Here's a small excerpt, a part that will serve as a prologue of sorts for this story set in the LSC expanded universe and more specifically the King of Blades and Dark Jester's timeline.   

996 AD

[Somewhere in the

port-city of Sidon]

      The small corridor led to a bigger room, its walls covered with cheap tapestry, a large table on a corner with an oil lamp on it, a couple of plain wooden chairs, one of them occupied. The woman had her head lowered, chin touching her chest, straight black hair adorning a well-proportioned face, a thin nose and full lips. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping. She had an aura of exotic beauty about her but nothing extraordinary. Still she could turn a man's head and the rare woman's in the market. Her clothes were fine-tailored, rather expensive, a stark contrast to the fairly modest one-storied house. Then again she spent very little of her time here, he thought. The Dux wanted her close at all times that is until his wife found out. Then he had to make a decision, keep the title and the coin or give it all up for the sake of pleasure? well, it didn't take that long for him to decide.
     

     Pleasure is nice.

    Coin 'n status even better.

   Only thing left was how to make his… little transgression disappear. The blond man sighed, not an easy thing making people disappear. Not as difficult as common folk may believe but still, one has to plan, ask around, and find the better way. Sometimes he may have to ask a person with the right connections or inclinations to help him out. This individual will ask for monetary compensation most of the times to do the foul deed.

  

   Others he may require something else. Land or a title and rarely nothing at all that is except the promise from this well-positioned person to help in turn when he's asked. Sometime into the future. What kind of help you may ask? Well anything really but in this particular instance a single vote.

  

   Simple, he thought.

  

   The woman sighed softly and opened her eyes.

   This was unexpected.

  

   Her stare stayed on him, eyes unfocused the poison already in her blood and for a moment it was as if she didn't recognize him. But then she did.

  "You."

   He gave a slight nod with his head.

  "Why?" She asked.

  What to say at such a query? Perhaps he shouldn't say anything at all, just wait for her to wither away, let the hemlock-based poison Dastan had injected her do its job. Ah, he thought, but where was that fool?

    He puffed hard. Who am I… he asked himself.

   I'm the Devil.

  "Don't hurt her." The woman managed to say, a shiver running through her, dark red spots appearing on her neck and face. "Please."

    He stared at the wooden door leading to the small bedroom. Dastan had walked inside five minutes earlier. Ten at the most. The man with the blond hair smacked his lips, not liking feeling guilty for what was about to happen. It wasn't his damn fault after all! He actually liked the woman.

     And he harbored absolutely no ill feelings for her baby daughter.

    He wasn't a monster.

   "She's four." The woman breathed slowly, barely heard now, almost gone.

    Bandi's cock.

    

      He'd walked towards the half-opened door unwittingly. Paused before stepping inside, cast another glance on the silent woman and then with a grimace of distaste pushed the door open.

    The lithe man wearing the leather vambraces, a knife sheathed on each one, dark tunic and hood covering his face didn't turn his way. He kept watching the small girl sleeping peacefully on the large bed, red nighty contrasting her creamy skin.

     

     A younger, better and sin-free version of her mother. The man with the hood pulled a knife out and flipped it expertly in his hand, the light coming from a small oil-lamp secured on the opposite wall catching its blade. The gleam forcing him to speak.

     "Don't."

     The man turned gave him a questioning look. He answered with a nod.

    "You sure?" The hood asked.

    "We'll take her with us."

    "Chief—" The man tried to say but he stopped him raising his hand. His voice came low, minding not to wake the child.

      "I can make it work."

       Such is the foolishness of youth one thinks nothing he ever does will come back to haunt him. But nothing compares to the foolhardiness of those believing a single act of mercy will wash away the sins of a lifetime.