Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)
Nectar of War: Part 3 – Chapter 36

STRAVAN PROVANSEVA

L AVEN,” I GREET AS I enter his study.

It is early in the morning, and I knew he would be in this room drowning in duties before we dine for morning meal. As much as I am unsure about my stay here, it is evident how much Laven does just as a High Prince, as a High King he could be fearful given the knowledge he already has and the knowledge he will gain. I need to understand as much about him as possible. I would scour through his mind, but I have already attempted, and he is the only one out of all of his brothers that can keep his head so guarded it nearly hurts me to break in.

“You are an early riser,” Laven says as he stands from his bureau.

He is donned in all black and his leather vest has tiny stitchings of dark blue in it—very similar to the cloaks given to them by Artemis.

He dresses well for a child known of the night.

“Oh, do not mind me. Please, continue to sit,” I wave as I sit across from him. “Tell me about you.” Since I cannot replace out for myself.

I am already aware of his past because word spreads easily in this universe when you are declared manic as both he and I were. One thing is, psychosis never truly leaves, and it can be activated to return by anything that hits that nerve to send us over the edge. Being fucking insane is the only factor that we relate on, but I do not know what initiated his outrage to fall into insanity.

Laven leans back and waits. “What is it that you wish to know?”

Everything.

“Tell me about your beginning as a royal.” I know a slight amount about his upbringing, but not enough.

Laven’s eyebrows raise. “I was raised in a royal family. My father was a Duke, and then I was declared Heir as my uncle does not have children. He no longer has a mate to have children and he did not want to pick a woman to have a child with and he does not believe in adoption—nevertheless he has many illegitimate children he does not claim. So, me being his own blood and the white in my hair signifying I am an Orviante without question, he chose me to be his Heir and neither myself nor my parents had much say. Then he made my sister Levora second Heir.”

“He does not speak with his illegitimate children?”

“None.”

“Why is that?”

“They were all conceived in brothels, that is why.”

Children of a High King whose mothers are sex workers are not permitted in royal lines, none at all. Even being bastard children, this does not mean they could not come after Laven for a royal placement.

“And after becoming Heir?”

“After that was when my life sharply rotated.”

“How so?”

He chuckles lowly and does not respond.

“The twelve men.” I continue for him.

“I do not speak of that.” He puts a stop to this particular topic proceeding any further. “My life was altered because I was thrown into being a High Prince that I did not ask to be. I was fine as a Duke’s son; I did not want for anything more, even then I desired for less.”

“You were still always meant for royalty. Your father was well known for his strength, and I can very much say I feel it in you. Your uncle, I cannot say the same, but somehow these tend to be the men who rule.”

“And yourself?” Laven turns the matter toward me. “Are you a ruler like my uncle or my father?”

I smile. “With my many years in this world, I have been both, but only an outrageous person could commit to what your uncle has.” I have not always been a great High King. Many moments of trial and error have shaped me into how I rule now. Which is still not considered great to most.

“May we pray he pays for his outrageousness.”

“I hope so as well, my companions did not deserve what happened to them. If they would have allowed me to intervene like I wanted to, he would be dead. “But, I did want to speak with you of something else as well.” Laven nods for me to continue. “Phyv.”

Suddenly, I have piqued his interest more. “Other than what your sister has told you, what else do you know about him?”

“Nothing too particular, I did not consider last night to be the finest occasion to plunge into exactly who Phyv was before he was taken to the Mortal Lands.”

“Phyv is an orphan,” I inform him of my own research I have done in such little time. “Although he is an orphan I am unsure of why he has such a . . .” I drift off as I search for the word.

“Why he has such a power held behind his eyes.”

He noticed it as well.

“Exactly,” I point. “No orphan has the demeanor of Phyv, it could be worrisome to not wholly discern a person. This pushes farther than just worrisome. It could be hazardous, I feel, to not be comprehensible of his past. He mimics the grace of someone with truly ancient bloodlines and it will be worth it to search who he is, even if he himself does not know who he is.”

Laven nods. “I will have Morano look into him with me. He has been accepted here because of my sister, but I will be keeping a close eye on him.”

“Anything you learn, bring me aware of it. If it ever came to his execution, it would have to be on Fae land so you may avoid having more hatred bestowed upon your nation.”

* * *

“Phyv, is it?” I say as I approach the younger Fae on the way to the dining hall with his large dog.

Now attired in rich clothing, Phyv looks even more regal than I imagined.

He bows before speaking. “Yes.”

“Where were you born, Phyv?”

His dog sits at his side and I see his nose wiggle around in the air as he smells me. He sneezes and I raise an eyebrow. “Trust me, I am not too fond of your smell either.”

“I am unsure,” Phyv laughs. “I have been an orphan since I have had the mind to remember anything.”

“Oh,” I fake an apologetic expression. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“No need for pitying me. I have been content with my life.” As he says the words, I can tell that it is a lie.

“No other way to live but contently with what you have.” I nod. “Though, if you wish to see where you are from, do not fear to ask myself nor Laven of your upbringing. We have access to archives you may not, but now that you have been accepted into this citadel you may seek with us.”

“Phyv!” The pretty little Princess beams as she runs down the hall in a light pink gown and the dog begins to wiggle around as she approaches. “You stayed.” She grins up at him before giving the pup the attention he is craving, down the hall she came from slowly walks the black cat that belongs to the sister. “King Stravan,” she greets me, and we both bow before each other.

“I will let you two go ahead of me, I am sure there is nothing of your morning conversation that will concern me.”

As they walk away to the large doors opening to the dining room for them, Phyv glances over his shoulder at me and nods.

A tiny sharp wind wisps by my ear, it is almost ignorable until Laven appears. I heard not a footstep, nothing at all.

‘This one,’ Sloan points to the name within the Arvenaldi family tree. ‘The shining Heir.’

The moment I declared my visit to the Realm of the Wolves will be commencing, Sloan began research on each man in The High Four and each individual in House Arvenaldi. First, we are to learn about The Head of both. I would have thought The Head of their House would be the High King, but as we look upon the data now, the High King certainly is not The Head.

‘Laven Hephaestus Arvenaldi, the second. He is told to move at the speed of an expert ascender. He is strong, intelligent, and he was born with basic abilities but after the Blood Bond Ritual with his brothers one power developed. He learned to project force fields strong enough to move mountains.’

“Well?”

I gaze at Phyv once more as he continues to walk down the dining hall with Levora. “He smells ancient.” I admit.

“Ancient?” Laven’s eyebrow raises. “How could that be? Given his age and the records at the orphanage, it states he arrived as an infant some twenty odd years ago.”

“Yes, but his blood. His blood smells of those from before my time. And, technically speaking, not many of them are left after the first Domestic War in Voschantai, meaning Phyv should be much older than he is being predicted to be.” I turn to him as he now watches the dining room doors open before his sister and Phyv, and they shut behind them. “You may have worry over the rouges and the people from other realms that will demand for their family members to be found on human territory as your sister and Greyce were, but add Phyv to that list of worries. Someone like Phyv should not exist, Laven.”