That night, General Vortigern returned to his quiet estate, most of his household were already in their quarters. He preferred to fly rather than take a carriage, despite it being a display of wealth he had no interest in such things. His black wings were stretched out behind him as he entered the grand hall, his main wife greeted him with a worried expression. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her brows furrowed in concern.
"Vortigern, we need to discuss our eldest daughter," she began, her voice tinged with urgency. "She's of age now, and it would be best to find a suitable husband for her soon." She had badgered her husband about this for a year now, and her daughter was almost 19, if they waited too long it would only become harder.
Vortigern withheld a groan, he did not want to discuss this right now, he did not believe his eldest would not find anyone but he was just waiting to see a man worthy of her. "Later, my dear. I have more pressing matters to attend to tonight." He used the same excuse every time, but this time she would not let it go so easily.
His wife, however, was not willing to let it go so easily this time. "You always say that," she snapped, her voice rising. "Our daughter is of age, and still, she waits. Do you not care about her future?"
Vortigern's patience wore thin. "I care deeply about our family, but I will not rush into a decision that could affect her happiness for the rest of her life. Finding the right match takes time." That and the issue of succession was making the court a battleground. He did not feel comfortable sending any of his daughters there.
"And how much more time will it take?" she retorted, her frustration evident. "She's already turning down suitors left and right. She won't wait forever, and neither will the eligible men!"
"She turns them down because they are not worthy of her," Vortigern replied sharply. "I will not settle for less than she deserves." What was so hard to understand? Only a great man could handle a great woman. He looked at his wife, whom he saw as fickle and could only resent that he did not have the power to choose his own wife.
His wife threw her hands up in exasperation. "You are too picky! She's not getting any younger, and neither are we. You must consider the practicalities, not just your ideals."
Vortigern's eyes hardened. "Practicalities? You think I am being impractical? I am looking out for our best interests!"
"You are being narrow-minded," she accused, her voice trembling with anger. "You think you know best, but you are only delaying her happiness."
Vortigern felt his own temper flare, since when was marriage ever for happiness? "Narrow-minded? Perhaps it is you who cannot see beyond your immediate concerns. I will not compromise her future for the sake of expedience."
The argument hung in the air, heavy and unresolved. His wife stared at him, her eyes filled with frustration. To her, he was merely a man who did not understand the humiliation their daughter would go through if tongues started wagging. Without another word, she turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. Vortigern watched her go, his jaw clenched.
"Narrow-minded," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "She does not understand." He went straight to his study, unwilling to return to their chambers for the night. As he approached the door, a sense of unease washed over him. The door was slightly ajar, and a faint light flickered from within. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, and he pushed the door open cautiously.
Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single lantern on his desk. To his surprise, he saw a figure seated in his chair. Vortigern's grip on his sword tightened, and he swiftly drew it, holding the blade to the intruder's neck.
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Scroll Of Wrath [BETA] COMPLETE
Fantasy"I am the one who stands in the gap." 50 years ago, all human tribes were wiped out by the joined forces of the five great celestial clans, their very existence outlawed in a world that once belonged to them. Despite this, one of the only survivors...