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10  YEARS LATER

    

     KING KINGSELY ALEXANDER has eyes that could cut you in half.

     Has a gaze that could crumble empires, slay even the most dangerous of beasts. At the sound of his voice, even the strongest of demons tremble in fear – cold and calculating he was destined to be.

      However, some men in Pire had said he wasn't always like this though, full of bitterness and contempt at the world – at some point of his life, he had lost someone very dear to him. Or so they say. It was a rumor, but more plausible to say the least, and it happened 10 years ago at the Winter Ball where everyone wondered,

     What really happened at the Winter Ball?

    King Kingsely Alexander was so closed-off, he didn't seemed to be capable of love. In some sense, it might be true.

    For he was the only one that had come close to capturing his heart, until he too was taken away from him.

    Since then on he had vowed to never fall in love again – because love is a thickle curse, it strikes you and kills you when you least expect it.

     On some days, when the King wasn't holed up in The Tavern half-boozed out of his mind, he would actually check upon his army of knights, sober yet half-witted. He would then take off to a place only he knew of, but it would end drastically in bittersweet memories and unshed tears.

      Notorious for his reputation, most of his days – such as now – were spent entirely caged in the musky scent of Pire's famous pub, The Tavern, listening to peasants talking and drinking everything he could find to wash off the bitter memories.
  
    He could say it worked well.

    On some nights, when his precarious state of mind became too intoxicated – The Tavern was the best place to find eager women, who would do everything on their part to give the King the time of his life. With the second floor littered with columns of rooms – lined up with beds that squeak even in the slightest of moves. On such occasions, it was easy to get his mind off things – as loudly as he can manage, so loud it drowned out the sweet voices in his mind.

     Of course, none of these women actually loved him – they were so busy bragging about having to share the same bed with the King of Pire to actually see beyond his shattered façade. The King doesn't mind this though – the less chirpier and clingy women, the better.

     Janus Klyde was The Tavern's owner – it was passed down from him since the dawn of his great grandfather. He was in his late 50's, with old graying hair and sagging skin, he rose to about 5'7 in height but was all skin and bones. He didn't know how to run a business, much less a pub that offered drinks that erases sanity and a couple of rooms for snogging and a night full of intercourse.

     He wasn't complaining anyhow, for this was the only business that had kept him alive. It had sustained his wife, Alvelyn Dorris, and his son Caleb Klyde to an extent. It had even more flourished when the King started to visit the pub asking for the strongest of drinks to keep him intoxicated.

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