As usual, his father wore his gold circlet, and sat the magnificent throne at the center of the room. The throne was carved from ancient wood and decorated with intricate patterns of golden filigree. However, the surface depicted a scene of war; the slaughter of humans and monsters and their kinds thereof, their ancestors before them. It was not just a throne of power, but of death. The throne of death that he desired. His birthright. His throne.
It called to him.
As it should.
The throne was enchanted so it sat only the royal lines, hence the bloodlines were revered. Their ancestry is blessed by the gods and the Faeries could never rise against it. Astaria without an heir was as good as dead. Thus, in times of war, while the Fae king fought, the Faeries protected the prince, or in this case princes, with their lives. The royal line must be preserved.
