The Kingdom of Vanora

Gaerwn

30 Rigel of the year 12984(218 years since Korbin's birth)

Korbin's Pov

I pry open my heavy eyelids and staring back at me are two dark blue eyes. I lash out and try not to scream. My limbs make contact with something squishy. I don't want to know what that was.

Holy fuck.

Wyn.

Wyn groans and clutches his groin. I am not sorry for that. He deserves what he got.

Wyn grimaces. He holds up a hand. I sit back and wait. He mutters a small spell through the pain. When done he mutters another one. Then he looks up. "We need to talk,"

"No shit,"

Wyn straightens. He looks at the small couch across from the bed. I sigh. I know he wants to sit there. He always wants the couch. Personally, I don't care where I sit. I just want this to end so I can take Vanora.

Wyn takes a seat on the couch and I sit on the end of the bed. He smiles and whisks a cup of wine into his hand. He offers me the cup.

I shake my head.

"You wanted to talk so talk,"

Wyn takes his time sipping his wine. He eyes me as if deciding if I'm prey or predator. He lowers his cup from his mouth. "In a few day's time, you are to execute your aunt and uncle. But not before taking the bond of Gaerwn from your aunt,"

"If I do that I won't get Vanora,"

"That is why we have picked a wife for you. She is young and able to have children. When you have an heir and he is old enough you will pass the bond to him,"

"Killing my aunt and uncle is step one to Vanora. A wife and child are the second. What is the third," Sounds easy enough. At least the first two steps. The third could prove to be challenging.

"Your siblings will wage war on you. All you have to do is use your army of sentients to defeat them. Then Vanora will be an easy feat,"

I click my tongue. "Who is this female?"

Wyn grins.

"Her name is Tressa," Quaint. Interesting. I wonder if she's from Delsaran or Gaerwn.

'Delsaran,'

'Stop reading my thoughts,' I growl at my friend.

Wyn smiles and sips his wine.

Outside my rooms, a guard bangs on the door and hollers at me to wake up. "Queen Tegwen requests your presence at tea."

Again? This is the third time in three days.

I smile at Wyn. "I best get going."

The lord of Delsaran grins. "Yes, you should."
_____

After dressing and shoving Wyn into the bathroom High Mage Jemma enters. I'm chained and escorted to my aunt's drawing-room. The room is quaint and small. Nothing like the ones in Vanora. This is different. It feels different.

I don't like it.

"Take a seat nephew,"

I do as Aunt Tegwen requests and sit across from her. She pours me tea and hands me the cup.

Quietly, I blow on the hot beverage. Steam wafts into my face. I sniff. The same type of tea as yesterday. And the day before. Does she ever change it?

Aunt Tegwen watches as I tentatively sip the hot tea. Why do I feel scrutinized? She likely is scrutinizing me.

"I've been here for three days," I lower my cup to my lap. "What is this about?"