Victorious, the warriors who survived the pre-wedding hunting party slammed their way into the prince's audience hall in a boisterous parade of triumph. Of the one hundred men who entered the abyss, only fourteen had returned.

Prince Relastin, as was only proper, brandished himself at the lead of the procession, his arm firmly around Kaden's shoulders. He embraced the future husband of his sister in a grip so tight that it threatened to squeeze the life from the Karo Shar.

"To our glorious victory!" Prince Relastin exclaimed as his men cheered.

Ison's sovereign snatched a goblet of mead from an awaiting servant's tray. The slaves stood, silent and neatly lined up, presenting everything from drink to food for the men. Some of the women who held nothing presented only themselves. And two of the soldiers, including General Durk, each peeled off a servant woman and opted for the pleasures of flesh rather than sustenance and drink.

Perched near the throne, Princess Lyla stood in her royal silks and perfectly presented herself without a hint she had ever been in the Abyss at any point during the previous days. "The hunt was a success?" she asked, playing coy.

Prince Relastin chugged his drink. "Eight hundred and seven Koronai lay dead," he exclaimed upon finishing, spitting out some of the liquid that did not make it down his throat.

"And the Gates?"

"We did not make the gates," the prince admitted, without a hint of sorrow at doing so. "But I have never seen the Abyss so full. Even without making the Gates, it was a glorious fight! One for the Annals."

"Father will be pleased to hear that when he arrives."

The prince's disposition turned suddenly into shock. "Our father, King Arban, Son of Xorv, is coming to your wedding?"

Quickly the other soldiers also ceased their ruckus nature and began nervously to listen to what was being imparted in the conversation between the princess and the prince.

"Yes," Princess Lyla said with as flat of tone as someone reading off mundane daily news. "We received a messenger leading an advanced contingent of soldier from Imeron the day after you entered the Abyss."

The prince's arm was off of Kaden now. "Why would he come here for something as insignificant as the wedding of a princess?" He slammed his goblet on the tray of a servant different from the one he had taken it from and hard enough to force the slave to drop his platter and spill the roasted meat upon it with a clatter.

The princess shrugged. She motioned to a man near her, lurking in off to the side and hidden in plain sight, and allowed him to explain.

He was decorated in blooming pants, and not an urk. They were orange like the morning sky, with a matching vest open in the front to display his chiseled chest. He wore a colorful red hat adorned with a large plume and a curved sword on his hip. Stepping forward, the royal messenger addressed the prince.

"King Arban, Son of Xorv may always do as he pleases." The messenger's voice boomed with a confidence that he could speak on the king's behalf without fear of reprisal from anyone.

The prince dropped to a knee before the newcomer. "King Arban's will is absolute," he said, obediently, but did not avert his eyes.

The other soldiers did the same as the prince, and Kaden, after a brief hesitancy, mimicked them.

The messenger came to within two steps of the prince and stopped. The man, whom Kaden was certain the prince could kill in mere seconds if he had wanted to, folded his arms. "I am Lar, Son of Jardis, and Voice of the King. When our sovereign is not seen, my words are as his own."

"So it is said by the King and the Decrees," The prince replied. "And so it shall be."

"Good." Lar, the king's voice, nodded. "I am glad that we are in understanding." He then turned his gaze to Kaden and eyed him up, noticing the distinct color of the former slave's urk. "This is your Karo Shar the King has heard of?" he asked.

Lar hadn't known Kaden as anything except what stood before him now. The prince rose, and Kaden did the same. But the remaining soldiers continued to kneel.

"This is my Karo Shar," Prince Relastin confirmed.

The messenger gave a moment of silence once the response came. "I heard he was scrawny boy." Hand rubbing his chin, Lar continued his thorough assessment. "Although he is smaller than I would have expected, it appears the rumors were not accurate."

Kaden was thankful that his appearance, far more impressive than in the recent past, seemed to sway the opinion of the king's messenger. But he said nothing, allowing the prince to carry on with the conversation.

"He is a great warrior," the prince boasted for him. He then waved to the men who remained. "He was the lone survivor of the men he led, and these soldiers bear witness to him continuing to slay Koronai once he rejoined us at the rendezvous point."

The men, still kneeling, cheered their approval of Kaden's prowess.

"The size of one's muscles does not always match the might of one's blade," the messenger added. "And that blade is an unusual weapon," he said, pointing to the Rohs Fang slung across Kaden's back and still covered in Koronai ichor. "I have only seen it once before. King Arban, Son of Xorv, has one in his own personal collection. I believe it is called a Rohs Fang?"

"Yes," Kaden said curtly, hoping he wasn't talking out of turn.

"I have never seen one used in battle. And I do not believe the king has either. Although he is very fascinated by it. He will want you to display your expertise with it when he arrives."

Kaden allowed the prince to once more take over the role of speaking. "A demonstration will be arranged for His Gloriousness."

"Excellent. I look forward to personally testing the Karo Shar's prowess on behalf of the King."

Prince Relastin bowed again. As did Kaden.

In a flurry of orange, the messenger departed from their presence. Dismissing them, as he dismissed himself, and without any sense of their positions. Only once the King's servant had vanished out the open doors did the others dare rise.

The princess followed him out with a regal gate.

Kaden remained silent as his sovereign fumed so brightly it was as though desert heat rose from him and rippled the air. Yet Kaden could see he pushed his anger down and turned back to his men.

"My father," he announced, "King Arban, Son of Xorv, High King of Imeron, is coming!" His men roared. "We shall show him the might of the northern tip of his glorious empire! Eat, drink, and when he arrives, we will be proud before him!"

The revelry of the men, once ended by a single man sent by the king, resumed more boisterous than before.

"You had better not disgrace me," the prince said with a heated snarl directed at Kaden as the celebration downed them out.

"My prince?"

"I will expect nothing less from you than the head of this Lar, Son of Jardis, when the two of you meet in front of my father and me."

"You—you want me to kill him? He is a messenger."

"He is a warrior," Prince Relastin corrected while the celebration of their victory in the Abyss ramped up. "Do not let his title fool you. He will fight you harder than any Koronai you have faced. In terms of ability, he is one step below the King's own Karo Shar. It is not I who wants you to kill him, but my father. It is why he was sent. The king wants to see I have selected someone worthy of being my right hand."

The tangle in Kaden's stomach spoke to his discomfort at the thought and translated all the way up to the look on his face. "There's no way out of it?"

"Never speak such treason again," the prince snapped. "I'll kill you myself if you do." The heavy and hard warning from the prince carried all the weight of a war hammer striking a foe's skull. Then, in the beat of a heart, the prince's mood shifted back to joyous celebration. He threw his arm around Kaden again and the two stood shoulder to shoulder. "For now though? Let us not overlook the celebration of what we have done!"

And with the prince's order to do so, Kaden engaged in the revelry and did not say say another word about the looming trial he would have to partake in. No matter how it worried him.