Disclaimer-- Will likely contain themes of dub-con, incest, and mpreg of a magical nature. Rothan Sovele was not noted for his generosity. In his time as King, few would have expected him to raise the child of a proclaimed enemy. The community had waited with held breath, expecting a public execution to demonstrate power, or at the very least a way to flush out those that were loyal to the boy's lineage. Perhaps that was on the King's mind, but no such events occurred. The only child of his late-half brother Maes was raised as one of the King's own. The child growing up wanted for nothing, and was provided an education based upon the studies Rothan deemed most important for a boy of his status. Most of this education was based on their social and political construct. Learning the way of the world would have no benefit, at least in the King's eyes. As the boy grew to a more understanding age, rumors spread that would need to be addressed. Sovele did not hide where he came from, but made sure he understood that his true father had been trying to destroy all that he'd built up. He was lucky Sovele had taken him, because his world would be nothing like he'd known it if he'd left him behind. The community surrounding the boy was a luxurious one. Growing up he resided in the royal mansion, kept close by the King as he was groomed into a proper Prince. As he came into his teenage years he was allowed into the city with chaperon, but never outside of the solid city walls. They had paved streets and clean water thanks to the generosity of their King, and their homes were constructed of stone. No easy feat, but all made possible by magical means. Events were hosted often to keep the occupants of the main city from boredom. If one looked past the privilege, one might take note of the guards meant to keep outsiders out. To most, they blended with the scenery, just a silent precaution they hardly paid any attention to. Behind the main city, but still equally protected was the royal farmland, where the best food supplies came from. The towns that surrounded the area were able to take advantage of the prosperity, but only because Sovele allowed them to do so. In return, even if they were 'low content' as they were called, they were loyal to their King. Those possessing no magical ability were often exiled on a whim, to make room for those coming in from the waste that tested in desirably. Rothan would always make room for good blood, but he saw no reason to sustain more than he needed. He didn't need a large army of commoners for defense. He not only controlled one of the most precious commodities of the world, but he'd proven that his power could be used to wipe cities off the map rather than aid in it's prosperity. To those outside of the area controlled by Sovele, he was known as a tyrant. To those inside, he was their saving grace. A servant had been called upon to tell his charge that he wasn't permitted to venture into the city this evening, and that Sovele was requesting him for dinner. It wasn't uncommon that the King showered the stolen Prince with attention, among other things. It was typical whatever was asked, the Prince received, be it an exotic pet or land to cultivate as he saw fit on the royal estate. Gifts were commonly given as well, and it would appear that Sovele did not show any malice towards the Prince for his origin. That could not be said for all that resided with the King. Even among Sovele's own children, the stolen Prince appeared to be the King's favorite. That was rumored to stem from distaste for his wife, the Queen. She had three children by the King, but that had been no easy task for her given the state of her health. She'd never been well, and the children he had by her were delicate, prone to the same sort of frailness their mother was plagued by. They were still royal blood of the highest content, and treated as such, but Sovele doted primarily on the healthy child of his half brother. Many thought Sovele would pair one of his children with the child of his half-brother, but nothing so far had been mentioned of suitors for his favorite. Beside the table was a gift for the young man covered in a pristine sheet. He thought if he provided all that he might desire, he would never want for more, and so when the boy that had grown into a young man arrived, his eyes took on that pleasantness that always did when he was presenting his favorite charge with a gift. Really, he was simply awaiting gratitude. A servant uncovered it. It was a marble statue depicting the fall of Maes, the boy's father. His body was twisted, a hand clutching his chest, his face partially obstructed in a way that was thinly veiled disrespect. Most would consider it a beautiful piece, but more than that, it was a reminder of the young Prince's origins. “I honor my brother by bringing such artistry to his memory,” Sovele spoke, motioning for the Prince to sit with him. “I hope you like it. I thought you could put it into your gardens.” Food had been laid out for them, plentiful and vast in their options. They were wasteful in the large city, and they overindulgence was a common theme among the elite.