Simply enjoying each other's company.

Knocking on the door to Jana's chambers, you are ushered inside.

The prince and his Warmistress lover are seated around the fire, with them is a young boy, four at the most, a nursemaid and of course, Donald's ever present elven companion.

It's obvious at a glance the lad is Donald's progeny. His hair, shaggy and unkempt as it is, is that same fiery shade as Donald's and Kara's.

"Edward!" Donald roars. "Good to see you again. Was just catching up with my son."

Hoisting the boy onto his knee, Donald gives him a hug.

"Edward, this is Harris." Donald introduces you. "Harris, this is Edward. Edward's King of a land called Itheria, to the south. King like you'll be one day, eh?"

Donald's heir stares at you in an unnerving manner. You'd... never been one for children.

"Why's your hand so weird, mister? Were you in a fight?" Harris asks, pointing shamelessly at your infirm arm. "My Ma fights sometimes, only she don't end up like that."

Donald coughs, Jana leans forward to reprimand her son.

"Harris, watch what you say!" She scolds, though you sense an underlying pride at her boy speaking of her martial prowess.

"Tell you what, why don't you, your nurse and Aunt Daena go off and do some lessons, eh?" Donald says, standing Harris up. "Edward and I have much to discuss..."

Harris sulks, but is eventually placated with promises of more time with his father, before being sent off with the human girl and the she-elf.

-

"I... wasn't aware you had a son. Any children, really." you admit, once it's just you, Donald and Jana.

"Best drunken mistake I ever made!" Donald jokes, pulling the Warmistress close to him. "And believe you me Edward, I've made a heap."

"And he lives here?" you ask.

"These caves are one of the safest places in Beatha." Jana informs you. "And besides, I'd say having a hundred mothers makes up for one wayward father."

"I'm hardly wayward." Donald smiles. "I've just got responsibilities. Duties..."

"Aye, a duty to raid and plunder down south. A duty to plow that elven whore every night." Jana adds, a note of playfulness lacing her words.

"Hey, you can't blame me if I can't stay away. Not my fault your quim can't measure up to an elven one, is it?" Donald asks.

Bizarrely, this cruel and personal insult draws an oddly aroused gasp from the Warmistress, rather than the scowl you would expect.

Catching you staring, Jana comports herself and rises from Donald's lap.

"Your Majesty." she addresses you. "May I get you anything? Food, another drink?"

"No more ale for me, thank you." You say.

"It wasn't ale I had in mind." the blonde assures you. "I have finer things than that. Delicacies from the south, the east, things even a man of your refinement may not have partaken of."

"I'd recommend it." Donald says with a wink. "You may find supping with us very enjoyable..."