Morningstar watched as the girl was carried away, his head tilted to the side. His lips were slightly pursed as he curiously watched her. Obviously, she was taken with his dear brother, to the extent where she would offer herself. Indeed, when he had played the game of manipulate to see how far she was willing to go, when he faked beating Charon up more, she had offered almost her entire existence. When he had said to Charon that he would accept it if his brother did not stay silent, it had been only a farce. A small amusement. A single task that he would have accepted, then he would have discarded her. Had her memory wiped, maybe ... But here she now was again, offering fealty. Once again ...

But did she actually want to serve him? The answer was no, it was all for Charon's benefit. And though the offer was pleasing to Morningstar, it would never have meant she was willing. His rule was simple - nobody was ever forced to give him their fealty. Otherwise he'd have been an emperor on the mortal plane long before. Instead, it was always their choice. Even with his siblings he had kept them for as long as he could, forging deals with them, keeping them close so they could see the glory of his court and his life, until they would admit his greatness and want to serve. It had been that way with Moros, the personification of doom, who was currently in a small town called Snowburgh for Morningstar's benefit.

Charon though … Charon was an entire category of his own. He had not been from the beginning, but it had come to pass that Morningstar now knew that the future of his kingdom was so entangled into that of keeping Charon close at hand. Charon was his, he was determined, and he would make all the deals to keep Charon willing to aid him. Pausing, he twisted back to see where he kept his brother, safe and secure, when he was not around to watch. Should he tell him what the Kora girl had offered?

The prince deliberated for a moment. Nothing was set in stone, and the likeliest thing for Charon to do was to offer his own self and his own freedoms so that Kora would not be put in danger. They would react off each other until both were simple, permanent prisoners here and then where would Morningstar be?

Rolling his eyes at their ridiculousness he twisted back, and began to stride. Luckily, the guard Fallon had already cleared much of the stairs with Kora, and it allowed Morningstar an uninterrupted climb for most of the stairs. He met them as they came to the corridor that led to the staff and offices, and offered one sweeping gaze before continuing his ascent up the stairs. Taking them two at a time he gained to the top, then strode directly into the vast room of few chairs and many books Charon liked so much. But Morningstar barely glanced at them; he already had a direction, and had had one from the moment he and Charon had left the brief small council session to speak of what had happened in Fallien.

Going directly opposite, ignoring the obvious door that led to his throne room, Morningstar came to a seeming shelf of books. Instead of reaching for a book, however, he reached for a small lever set underneath a shelf and pulled that. A hidden door swung open, and he smiled, the familiarity of that trick coming back to him. A cream-coloured corridor, with panelling and a wooden floor lay before him. Faint, but mellow music came from down it.

He grinned, and stepped in, closing the door behind him. It merged with the shelf once more, seemingly nothing, never having been there.

But he - he moved down the corridor, and immediately began to shrug off his outer robe. The jangling of the keys to Charon's cell could be heard, and he removed these to shove them into a pouch around his neck. The music grew louder, and the recognisable sounds of strings could be identified. Proudly, he puffed out his chest as he strode faster. Sounds of warm female laughter began to be heard, as well as the splashing of water.

They grew louder, and his strides got lengthier. The laughter intensified, clearly all female, and the plucking of strings increased to a melody. Steadily, he worked on his cravat, as he spied thin steam.

He twisted around the corridor, coming fully into view of the room now. Six gorgeous women, most of them in the nude. They were relaxing and strutting around a warm steam bath, whilst a group of more female musicians played harps in a corner. Plush towels, a myriad of plants, other doors spread from this sauna, making it seem like a lost jungle paradise in the midst of his fine white court.

One spotted him, and gasped, her lips parting to reveal a pleased smile. Running over she slid her fingers into his. More then saw him, and they hurried over, beginning to remove his clothes, and he, quite willingly, let them.

“Beloved Morningstar,” the first one said, warmly, “we have been waiting for you all day.”

“Indeed, my lord,” another purred as she worked on the buttons of his shirt. “All day. We have been bored.”

Satisfaction flooded through the primordial, and he stood still as his six, entirely willing, members of his harem removed his clothing from his body. Each one of them, over time, had come to him, begging for him to take them as his lover. It was the way, they had said, they wanted to serve. And over that time his harem had grown. If anyone ever said that Morningstar the Great lacked for pleasures of the flesh, they were entirely wrong.

“Ah, well I can only apologise,” he purred to her in response. “But I am here now.”

“Yes you are,” a third one said, at his ear. Then she began to kiss at his neck.

Morningstar smiled broadly. At least this part of his life was as he wanted.