Princess Juliana of Parsamore relaxed in her seat inside the carriage. She breathed out a sigh as it continued its way through the forest. No one was inside with her, as per her father's orders as she had found out. So she had no one to keep her company and occupied on the long trip, accompanied by twenty of the finest warriors of Parsamore for protection, the driver, and the footmen. She knew a few of the soldiers that rode alongside her carriage, and when they were setting up camp, at least they then deemed it alright to talk with her.
She adjusted her position on the seat, huddling under the thick blanket to keep the chill out. She even had her thick cloak of wool, the color of a sunrise, orange and red. Her hood was drawn up, making the color of her hair indeterminable. Her eyes though, were plainly seen, and they were the same amber that wolves have, unfortunately, one was slightly swollen and had bruising around it, it looked about two weeks old so it was yellow around the edges, and darkened as it grew closer to her eye, to a bluish color, otherwise her skin was flawless and the color of cream, something that certainly bruised easily, and most likely soft to the touch, 'tis how it appeared, though her cheeks and the tip of her small nose were reddened by the cold.
She closed her eyes and wrapped herself tighter in her cloak and blanket, bringing her dainty feet up onto the seat with and tucked them under her. She was attempting to bring in as much body heat to herself as possible. Juliana felt the carriage pull to a stop and she straightened in her seat and was about to look out the window, thinking of the trip to Mondera.
She'd been there because her father and the king of Mondera, had set up a betrothal between herself, and Alaric, the crown prince of Mondera, the reasoning being to gain an ally in Parsamore's war with Skarlath.
As it turned out, she found out upon her visit to get to know Alaric, he was a brute. She caught him having sex with a female servant, to which she found out he had been forcing himself onto the poor woman, and he ended up throwing his fist to Juliana's left eye when she stated she would be sure that the betrothal was called off. That sort of happening, to her knowledge, was unspeakable in Parsamore, surely her father wouldn't force his daughter to go through a marriage with someone who would force and beat her?
Juliana breathed in deep as she pulled her hood farther over her head, and the blankets up more. She hadn't been properly warmed since she left Parsamorian borders, and hoped that they could reach it sooner than the allotted three weeks. She shook her head as she heard the warriors around her preparing camp for the night. She hadn't noticed how it was growing dark.