Prologue
“Since when do fairytales start with a prologue?”
Royce Volkner asked back to the love of his life, while leaning back in his chair at the Draíocht Tavern, which was nestled outside on one of their historic, more than thousand-year-old Volkner Family Estate—a tower of some sort, somewhere in the deep woodlands of North Ireland. That tower looked like a spike, impaling a huge royal castle, and uprooting it from the ground. The tower is now used as one of the Caelus hotels, Volkner’s super luxury hotel for the super riches in Europe.
Maria Volkner took a swig of her beer and raised an eyebrow, “All stories need a prologue and an epilogue, and maybe a few sequels,” she said, her tone firm.
The tavern was alive with the hum of conversation from tourists and lodgers, the warm glow of lanterns casting a cozy light made Maria feel cozy and sleepy, yet she was struggling hard to keep her eyes open to pay full attention to her husband.
Seeing Maria fighting against her beauty nap, Royce shook his head with a soft, unbelievable giggle,
“This is just a fairytale, darling. Just a random, old, stupid fairytale, without any prologue.....,”
and then he winked at his wife.
Maria smirked beautifully at her husband’s childish absurdity.
And, Royce could only return a smile for a smile before he started to entertain his wife with the tale that a thousand nights old......
