Walking into Prince Manor’s room the whisky hits Panya’s nose; the room is clean, but you can smell whisky, ‘old whisky, perhaps spilled somewhere,’ she thinks, pinching her nose.
“You can have the bed,” Prince Manor says, walking over to the table where a vast filled with whisky and a few clean glasses are neatly arranged.
‘You should consummate your marriage,’ Prince Manor hears his mother in his head.
‘All in good time, mother,’ Prince Manor mind links him back, looking at Panya, undressing..
Prince Manor pours himself a glass and brings it to his lips, drinking all of it in one go.
He was about to pour another when he looked at the vast, ‘f*ck it,’ he thinks to himself before drinking straight out of the vast.
Prince Manor sways over to his bed where Panya is already laying, serv
