Flickering candles illuminate the Virewyn keep, the boy king amusing himself on the eve of a feast to celebrate his men's return from conquest. "Leave me, Erik-" He orders a nearby guard. "I'm drunk but more than capable of caring for myself, and your old-ness is ruining my partying mood." He sneers.

As the guards takes his leave, Queen Isolda in her glory enters, a smile on her face masking a manipulative nature. "My boy," she smiles. "Another successful conquest, I'm very proud. You know-"

"Mother, I am trying to relax after the banquet-" he grumbles, rolling over on the velvet chaise to look at her.

"I know, but I've a gift for you, from the conquested men." She chides. This catches his attention, he perks up.

"A gift?" He asks. "Go on then, mother. Don't be cruel and tease me." He frowns, eagerly awaiting his prize.