Medieval Insults Novels & Stories

I rebuked pointedly and the man lifted his head to laugh boisterously. ‘Arrogant pompous pig.’ I snorted angrily. ‘Pig? Far from it, my dear Becca. If you really want to insult the man, then you can do better by using a truer word. Don’t stoop low by using cheap words that don’t qualify in describing the man.’ My conscience jeered with a snort and I felt ashamed. I can’t believe I failed at even mere insults.

He even patted me on the shoulder. I can't hold it anymore longer. An amused smile escaped from my lips but I quickly hid it by shooting daggers at them with a stare. “Tu futueo et caballum tuum.” [Screw you and the horse you rode it on.] I did not mean to say that to their horse but I want to earn a good reaction from these two. And I wasn't wrong, their reactions to my vulgar profanity earned a hearty laugh from me. Arturo almost choked on his drink and Dominic literally dropped his jaw.

My hand instinctively tightened on the dagger strapped to my thigh, hidden beneath my tunic. “What is a slut like you doing among such noble men?” His voice, a low, venomous hiss, sliced through the quiet air around me. It was barely above a whisper, meant only for my ears, cutting me deeper than any shouted insult could have. The word, 'slut,' hung in the air, a vile, sticky thing that clung to me. My blood ran cold, then boiled. How dare he? All the exhaustion, all the pain of the mission, was forgotten in a sudden surge of pure, unadulterated rage.

Conrad whispered as we rounded the corner to an area where far too many courtiers had gathered. They were gossiping, their hateful, malicious hisses directed glares toward me as I heard “Whore, changeling slut.” and any new manner of insult they could come up with. It didn’t feel like they were threatened by me. It felt like they all knew very well that I was here to destroy the king. Maybe they were right.

“That brainless, two-faced, lying, backstabbing, good-for-nothing piece of trash! He will surely be punished by God and he will be rejected Wherever he goes.” I choked on my cookie and blurted out. What were these insults that I just heard? “Mom!” But, she wasn’t done. “That miserable thing! That cockroach in human skin! The day he was born, the heavens must have sighed in regret! Look at him, walking around in expensive suits, thinking he is important. Oh, he has no idea what has befallen him.” I covered my face as the insults rang in my ears. “Oh my God,” I screamed and My phone rang again.

It was rare in this world to spit such insults out in public, let alone in a peaceful cafe, and the fact that it came from a noble-- a duchess-- makes it even more bizarre. Throwing straightforward insults out in the public is common among the commoners, nobles-- including the royal family, used to throw insults in the implicit way. And I'm not used to that. I would rather let them hear it so there’s no misunderstanding or getting lost in translation. Besides, I could say that it is my forte. ‘There’s no sugar-coating in the world of journalism.’

Her words dripped with venom, each syllable laced with spite. The other girls closed in, their gazes sharp and unforgiving. "You're nothing, Elara. Just a pathetic little wannabe trying to fit in where you don't belong," one of them spat, her words like daggers aimed at my heart. The onslaught of insults continued, each more cutting than the last - ugly, undeserving, unworthy of Asher's attention.

It could have been the mafia in there for all I knew. I had been this close to death. This close. Banging on the hood of the car three times, I went psycho, "If I could have freaking died, you stupid son of hairless baboon! I swear I would have come back and haunted you! You demented fish! Over grown Bastard!!" I knew I sucked at insults partly because I never cared to curse and partly because I really didn't have a very bright insulting vocabulary...

I struggled weakly, rage burning inside me, but my body couldn't do anything to stop this shitheads. “You’ll never wear a sentinel’s armour,” the first one said, shoving me hard against the wall again. “That title doesn’t belong to filth like you.” Another punch landed on my temple, I staggered, my knees giving out, and I hit the ground hard. I could barely hear them now, but I knew they were still insulting me. “You should’ve remained a slave boy,” the last voice sneered, his cold and full of venom. “Now everyone around you is going to suffer.”

Don't think I'm ignorant about it! Edwin froze in shock for a moment, before he became furious. "How dare you speak so carelessly of the Queen Mother and the Princess..." Lydia kept going. "All you medieval relics do is use your status to crush others. So what if I speak without care? The prince said that no matter what I do in the capital, he'll protect me. Go talk to him if you have the nerve to! "For a rejected woman to come here to provoke me… Was I supposed to wait until you shamelessly got into the prince's bed before I regretted it?"