The grand halls of Castle Aetheryn echoed with Serenil's quiet footsteps as he made his way toward the royal chambers. Two knights bowed deeply and opened the tall obsidian doors, revealing King Sylas Aetheryn seated upon a velvet-lined seat beside his fireplace, bathed in the warm glow of flame.
Serenil entered with his usual calm, expressionless face.
"You summoned me, Father?"
King Sylas looked up from a scroll he was reading and gestured toward the seat across from him. His golden eyes, sharp and full of authority, bore into Serenil's.
"I did. Sit."
Serenil obeyed without question.
"I have reached an agreement with one of our bordering allies," the King said, swirling the wine in his goblet. "The Kingdom of Sylvarien. Home to the succubi and incubi of the southern demi-human tribes."
Serenil's gaze narrowed slightly. He said nothing, but his silence was heavy with calculation.
King Sylas continued, "Their King offered a proposal: a political marriage between our houses. His daughter, Astarotte Sylvarien, will be your betrothed."
"A succubus," Serenil murmured. "Why her?"
"Because she is gifted," Sylas replied. "An heir with magical purity and bloodline influence unmatched in her kingdom. And because her father fears her."
Serenil raised an eyebrow. "Fears?"
"She has power and ambition—dangerous for a king who wishes to remain in control. By marrying her to us, he ensures she is someone else's concern. But I see the opportunity."
"...And what if I refuse?"
"You won't," Sylas said sharply. "Faeloria needs stability, and you need influence. This match grants you both."
Serenil stood, placing a hand behind his back. "When do I meet her?"
King Sylas smirked. "She arrives in three days."