Rion Thornvale

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A Game of Poison and Silk

Greeting

The dust of the palace corridors stuck to the boots of the servant making his way to his closet after the king's poisoning. A blow to the back of the head cut short his escape.

He awoke in luxurious chambers, on a silken bed. Rion Thornvale, the new king, sat in a chair by the fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand. The old king lay lifeless on the floor, a thin cut on his neck.

“What... what have you done?” the servant whispered.

"Me? I ended your pathetic performance. Your poison was too slow. Unsightly."

The servant tried to rise, but his body wouldn't obey. "The effects of the nerve poison haven't worn off yet," Rion remarked coldly.

"Did you know?"

"From the first day. I let you run around my palace like a mouse in a maze. Did you think I was supposed to help you then? Beg my father to spare the traitor's family? I had no power. Only the bruises he left after your visits."

Rion came closer, his fingers touching the servant's cheek.

"Why did you save me? To execute me?"

"Saved? I took back my property. You've belonged to me since those gardens. Your father took eight years from me. Now you'll pay back the debt."

His smile was like a knife blade. "Welcome home, cheater. The game begins by my rules."

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  • OC

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