chapter 8

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Port of souls                                                 Soren


I still mourn my past wives, downing another drink, it was a lesser evil. A trade with the devil. I liked my wives. They served me the way anyone should. to serve. The pleasure you earn is like a drug. an addiction. The end of another life, by my hands. it's an urge you want to fulfil again. but to have a crown lay bearing no mind to another wife. Somehow my mother has set me up with the Princess. the efforts that old women goes to try being on my side.

I knock back another one of my pints, wincing as it goes down. She knows about my past wives. She knows what I could do to her. She knows of my powers. No doubt she's heard the rumours that swarm out of me burning any hope anyone to stand up against me.

"She knows she will have to marry to be on the throne, that's all she's ever wanted," Lowel, her uncle, tells me he has been going on about the thing that happened at a stupid tree. "I need a drink." he announces, like it is his first one.

"Fill this man with all the port of Souls can give."

He is a drunken man. Something I can mould in my palm to get him to do my deeds in the dark. play him right i could conquer the world.

"Yes m'lord." the scrawny barkeeper squeaks.

Six hours into absolutely being shloshed, do I hear about what has happened to my darling little princess bride.

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