Ruler of Angels | The Royal Legacies Series

| 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 |

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 |𝖆𝖉𝖏| 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

That night was different from the others. It surprised Felimid more than it did the king when he was able to fall asleep on the couch in the library.

When they got back from the markets, Vaeril insisted on eating and talking more in his private library. Not that Felimid minded the thought. He rather enjoyed dinner there while they talked.

It was peaceful. Almost too quiet but when they got on a topic they wouldn't shut up. Then wine came into play.

The mercenary was never one for wine, but seeing as the elf insisted, he decided to try it. For the first time in his life, he actually enjoyed it. Unlike the sweetness of other wines, this one reminded him of ale just not as strong.

More and more wine was consumed. And at one point he's unaware they even understood each other's sloppy speech.

Felimid was the first to fall asleep. Vaeril moved to grab their fourth vile of wine but came back to see the human fast asleep on the couch.

The king couldn't deny the sleep clinging at him either. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a blanket and a pillow from his room. Not that he minded giving them to him anyway.

Carefully lifting the human's head, he placed it down on the pillow. He didn't want the mercenary to wake up with a crook in his neck. Then he placed the blanket over the rest of him. He had to situate it so it covered his body.

So the king stumbled back to his room, totally not hitting into the table on his way back. He didn't even bother closing or locking the door on his way. The elf's shoes barely got off before he collapsed into the bed.

When Thronal came to check on them the next morning he was surprised to find the mercenary sprawled on the floor like a starfish. The blanket was covering his middle but nothing else. One turn later he saw the empty wine bottles on the small table.

Walking towards Felimid he looks and notices the king's room open. With a small chuckle, he walks over into the room. As he figured, the king was still laying face-first on the bed, one of his boots hanging on his foot still.

The advisor took the boot off and put them in the corner. It wasn't too late in the morning so he decided to let them sleep for a while. Morian was the next to come into the room and almost snorted at the sight before him.

Thronal was now sitting at one of the chairs, reading a book with a cup of coffee. He looked up to the prince behind his book and shrugged, "Think they had a rough night?"

The elder elf chuckles, "Your brother is in his room passed out. So I suppose it wasn't that fun of a night."

Morian moves over to Felimid and kneels down to look at his face. Just then he stirs, "Morian?"

"Morning sleepyhead. Sleep well?"

Felimid struggles to sit up but he ends up sitting on the couch, "What time is it?"

"A few hours before breakfast is served. You have time to wash before then if you wish."

The prince takes a seat at the table and gives him a smile, "Fun night?"

The mercenary stands but almost falls over in the process. Thronal looks at him and shakes his head, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Felimid cracks his back, "Ugh. I'm fine. I'll come back when I'm done. Tell Vaeril if he wakes up I had fun minus the current headache..."