The massive obsidian doors to King Sylas Aetheryn's chambers groaned open.
Serenil stepped inside with silent, graceful movements. His expression was blank as usual, his silver eyes locking onto the tall, imposing form of his father seated upon a high-backed throne-like chair near a glowing hearth.
"Come closer, Serenil," the king said, setting down a scroll.
Serenil approached and bowed faintly. "You summoned me, Father."
"Yes." King Sylas leaned forward, folding his hands. "You've already met Astarotte, your first fiancée. However, as part of our continued alliance-building, I've accepted another marriage proposal."
Serenil blinked once. "Another?"
"To the Mariglen Orc Tribe," the king continued. "Their princess, Piglette Mariglen, will arrive within a fortnight."
Serenil said nothing at first. Then: "The name… Piglette?"
King Sylas gave a low chuckle. "Unusual, yes. But don't let it fool you. The girl is a refined, bright gem among her kind. Unlike the brutish reputation of her tribe, she's known for wisdom, kindness, and beauty."
Serenil remained silent, gaze lowering to the fire.
"She's your age," the king added. "A quiet soul. And she's been educated in diplomacy and healing magic. The Mariglen tribe holds the northern mountain pass—we need their allegiance."
"And what of Astarotte?" Serenil asked.
King Sylas leaned back. "That's your business. Keep them both satisfied. You are a prince—and one day, perhaps more."
A long silence settled between them.
Then Serenil finally responded: "I'll receive her… and I'll decide if she's worth wielding."
King Sylas nodded approvingly. "Good. Dismissed."