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    Summary

    It slipped out recklessly, without meaning from drunken lips that hadn't even realised just what they had done. "I mean how could he not be insane?" A hiccuping giggle came from Daeron, head resting heavily against his palm as he tilted his cup back, letting the last of his wine quench the inescapable thirst. "Father will never let him actually marry. He can be a Prince of something, I'm sure, but -" Whatever he had been about to say made Daeron snort before a look of pity crossed his face. "Well, he'll never have heirs. Be the talk of whatever place he goes as the prince who could not even bring a bastard into the world."

    A thousand different thoughts ran through Valarr's mind. First and foremost; what the hell could his cousin possibly mean?

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