Seeing that Vyarin was back in sone assemblage of sorts, she withdrew a little. He had gotten the message, and seemed inclined to no further conversation with her, so she left him to his founderings. A soft sigh escaped her lips and as she saw Alvaro enter, she arranged her face in a smile and moved to intercept. A hand on her arm stilled her and she saw Uriah standing there. "You need not fuss over every single person here, child. It is not your duty."

Loreena pressed her lips in a thin line. "I'm being obvious, aren't I?"

"Excessively..." Uriah replied without preamble, ignoring the look of consternation from his charge. "Come, enjoy a meal." He offered his arm, beckoning Alvaro to have a seat and be served while he led Lore to a seat as well. The flowers Suly had planted glowed and shimmered like stars as they passed and the jewel on her neck glowed brightly a moment. A few murmured words had a golden chalice of wine lift from the tray held by a servant on the other side of the table and move steadily over the heads of the seated guests to her hand where she plucked it from the air and took a sip. Uriah smirked. "That's the Loreena I was waiting to see," he said quietly.

Helping her to her seat, he withdrew some and sat nearby, as Sulhana made her grand speech. Lore lifted her chalice in a toast to Suly's words and to the assembled guests. "Hear hear, Sulhana! This morning we were strangers. Now we dine as friends. And may the days soon to come see us all as family!"

The subtleties of court were unlike anything else, Erick found it less than enjoyable but he knew it was necessary nonetheless, weighing up his adversaries however, he believed he could be in with a fair chance of securing the first daughter of Astalia as he’d been instructed.

Although, he did loath to consider the arrangement in such a way, but how should this be different than any other campaign to secure Jörda’s future and protect its people?

Annalise initially seemed distracted when Erick spoke with her, he heard her stomach growl and he wondered perhaps if she was famished.. stressed and overwhelmed? He did always anticipate these daughters to be of a.. finer disposition. He observed as Annalise purposefully took a seat opposing him, harder work than he’d thought, he smiled gently as she teased him, and scanned her eyes deeply when she directed her gaze to him - her eyes were glass, with a colour like the waters of a lagoon. The Jörda prince nodded agreeably as she explained the simple premise of their contest, “that sounds like a fair and I think you will find, interesting prize” he agreed before musing for a moment on his own reward, “and if I win” he paused and stood to grasp a flagon of the Afdan wine which he tipped to fill each of their glasses, “you will take a ride with me tomorrow morning, with my horse”, Erick fully expected to win, of course, so it seemed like the ideal opportunity to ensure they’d spend a little more time together.

Erick’s eyes moved to the Elven prince whom had finally appeared in the courtyard, it was difficult to say if this suitor was yet to pose a challenge for him, although by appearances he was tall and fair and bred for battle, the Elven people had some of the finest manufacture of garments and weapons, magic was woven into their kind and an allure seemed to surround them. Annalise turned her attention to welcome him for a few moments, and Erick couldn’t help but let his gaze slip searching for Loreena, where he’d found her taking a seat - he’d missed her trick with the chalice, but listened as she made her brief address, “Hear hear!” he concurred raising his own vessel.

(Double post)

---

It was a comforting sight, to say at the very least. The last hope for a Sahas free from the Empire's tyrannical grasp. Although the last piece was yet missing, it went without saying that the fate of all of their lands were now interwoven within this small court hidden behind a wall of fading flowers. And, at the crucible of it all were two sisters who possibly bore the most diplomatic influence out of all of them. There was Annalise whose title alone as the crown-princess drew much attention to her back. It was no secret that the princes would vie for her attention, most notably those who also bore the burden of inheritance in their own respective lands. Vyarin and Erick would obviously try and squeeze their way into her sister's good graces in an attempt to entice her to choose them once the time came for the engagements to be decided. But, if Sulhana had anything to say about such plans, she much preferred the Prince of Jorda to be closer to the Light of Astalia. The First Lord of the League was indeed a worthy suitor but... well, he was impaired in more ways than one.

Not only did Jorda share more similarities to Astalia's culture, but it would seem that one prince was more educated than the other in statecraft. Prozdyian culture was much too foreign due to the distance between their lands. Their religions even differed in a number of ways. Sulhana could see traces of shamanistic paganism and the old ways still embedded in the League and in their prince of princes. Meanwhile, Astalia and Jorda at least shared the same pantheon in Aldask. Their values also varied greatly with one putting more emphasis on martial prowess whilst the other preferred a more holistic foundation. So much differences could only result in misery, and Sulhana would be damned if she allowed Annalise to suffer and with her, Astalia. Thus, it was a necessity for her to keep Vyarin at arm's length from her eldest sister.

It was then that Loreena's voice cut through her thoughts, and her gaze turned towards her mage-sister who beamed at her as if she was as kind and as gentle as the princess she ought to be. The chalice floating in midair before it hovered to its mistress plucked an awed grin from Sulhana's lips. Such displays of actual arcanery always pricked at her heart in secret envy. Mages were far and few across Sahas. They were revered as prized individuals whose strength could amplify a nation's power and influence. Loreena was no exception. The man who trained her sister was proof of such. Uriah was a fickle fellow. Prickly. A thorn-like attitude that disdained the world and its idiocies. And, yet, he was loyal to the second princess, not to the throne. Loreena may not know it but she wielded an influence of her own. On the last council meeting before the idea of arranged marriages were finalized, there were whispers of Loreena being internally married instead to one of the vassals in hopes of keeping Astalia's magical bloodline within its walls.

But, her sister was a bird who did not deserved to be locked in a cage. It was evident that she despised intrigue and statecraft, telltale of signs of a woman who longed to be free of her golden chains. Loreena was thirsty for knowledge and freedom, only one of which could be provided within Astalia's domain. Sulhana needed to find someone who could let quench her sister's flame and let her see the land for what it truly was, not just how it was portrayed in her endless sanctum of books.

"These flowers would not be possible without you, Lore," Sulhana said as she grinned at her mage-sister. "You know these plants," The princess continued. "They only bloom when in the presence of one who carries the arcane. You have made our gathering brighter. Literally."

The spymistress lifted her chalice to the crowd in an invitation to eat, and with it, her eyes darted to the dark skies above, still shrouded by a thick roll of clouds that haloed against the dim moon. It was nearly time, but first...

"Prince Alvaro," Sulhana greeted her last guest with a curtsy as she approached the elven prince. "I am overjoyed that you could make it," She eyed his appearance. His tunic was beautiful, waves of red forming around his toned figure as if he was swathed in the very flames of a phoenix. The violet gem upon his neck radiated an alluring whisper, as if it knew the very secrets Sulhana etched upon every inch of skin on her body. The earrings he wore could definitely fetch a hefty sum but before she could start to appraise his entire ensemble, Sulhana chuckled as she beckoned for the prince to join them. "You look handsome, my lord," She tilted her head, green eyes assessing the elf. "Come, we were just about to dine together and we have a drinking game going on. Maybe you'd also like to partake," She said as she walked near Prince Gil's seat. "And, save me from Prince Gil who is really not holding back against a fragile woman like me?" Sulhana laughed, playfully slapping the large orc's shoulder with the back of her hand.

Now, the pieces were complete. The last nations still free now gathered together, searching for security and strength in one another. Their father may have become a mere shadow of his former glory, but he knew how to think of politics. And, this last alliance may actually be the answer to the Empire's growing might. Like ships to a lighthouse, they had all been drawn to Astalia from the storm and it was only a matter of time before the actual game would begin. This gathering was but a prelude. A taster of the disdainful politics that would soon try to coil at all of their throats.

Speaking of guests, there was one who was still estranged and while this had been her plan to distance Vyarin from the crown-princess, Sulhana did not have it in her to be so heartless. He seemed like a pup lost in the rain. A spider caught in its own web. So lost in this small game that he himself joined without preparation. Most of all, though, she knew he was trying his best and maybe that was enough for now.

So, with her guests busy, the third princess made her way around the table and took the vacant seat beside the Prozdy prince. They had interacted quite little. Most of her words had been said from the tongue of a person who spoke the prince's language. And, it was not to pride nor inability to speak that Sulhana decided to leave the Prozdyian to a medium. No, it was to her understanding that while she could fluently converse in Prozdy, her knowledge of his language was far too formal to be natural. Better suited to speaking as a diplomat. Not one who would sit with him on equal grounds. But, she supposed it was better than to keep hauling her servants to talk to him.

"The crown-heirs and noble-borne converse in jest, dro Vyarin," Sulhana said in formal Prozdy as she filled his empty cup with the same drink that she noticed he had been eyeing before. "They speak with child's delight regarding a contest of who intakes the most Rotted Grape Essence," Then, Sulhana slowly translated into Astalian. "Rotted Grape Essence, 'Wine' in Astalian tongue," She offered the cup to Vyarin as she smiled up at him. "The Crown-Heir of Astalia has challenged the one from Jorda, and they wagered on who might triumph, and I believe they are respectfully enquiring whether you could be the... judge," She paused for a while to recollect her knowledge of Prozdy from her spies. "Judge... One who decides who is the victor."

Sulhana breathed out then, observing the battle-hardened prince after being this close to him for the first time. After she took a spoonful of soup between her lips, Sulhana drank from her cup before turning to Vyarin once more. She glanced at the wraps at his head, just covering his left eye. She had heard of what had happened, and to an extent, her heart stung at the thought of such barbarism. How could a father send away his son to find a bride as the price for returning home? He was injured and unprepared for such court intricacies. Did this man ever feel warmth in his entire life?

"Many voices have spoken into my ears in praise of your strength, dro," The princess began after she wiped a fleck of soup from the corner of her mouth. "However, I ask for your forgiveness if I am to display rudeness to you, Vyarin, but I am consumed with query," She said with a tilt of her head as she faced him. "The eye on your left," She said. "Does hurt still torment it from within after all this time? Pain?"

"I understand now," Vyarin said, nodding his head. This one had a wit about her, he thought, that she could tell what he needed to know even without him having to ask. Perhaps she was the eldest? Were it so, he would have to get into her good graces now. Continue to nod along now, and be agreeable. Although, now that he considered it, perhaps it said more of his habit than hers. Although he appeared to stroke his chin, it was more like he was touching his face. He was an open book, no doubt about it. She could read his thoughts like a malevolent forest witch from the bard's tales. Though perhaps if he took her to wife, she could teach him how it is done? How delightful it would be to tell one's thoughts from their visage alone! Yet, all was not well, he considered. It was the battle instinct that tugged at the back of his eye in a sharp report. This woman had no interest in his benefit. Yet, he wondered, once the alliance is formed, did that truly matter so much?

So lost in thought was he that he barely caught the tail end of her question. She had a way of speaking, they all did here in Astalia. Bard's speech, it was known at home. It was well of them to accommodate for his language, true, but their perception of Prozdy was simply woefully out of date. He paused, searching his mind. Yes, the question. He remembered now. The truth was, he had grown strangely quickly to adapt. The ebb and flow of the pain was unpredictable, almost as the flow of a conversation. However, he was not about to reveal his suspicions to her.

". . . It is mostly gone," he answered, looking anywhere but in her eyes. "I feel as healthy as before I lost it."

Over time, the revelry wound down. Many cups of rotted grape were eagerly devoured by the seven strangers, so much so that nobody particularly cared to decide between them a 'winner'. Vyarin suspected that was the point. They enjoy it so that any excuse may be made to imbibe. What a peculiar habit of these far-easterners, that what in one hand paralyzes the living mind of a warrior is on the other to their delight. Excuses were made in the late night, and Vyarin was eventually escorted under watchful eye of the castle guardsmen to a chamber set aside for him. His own men were nowhere to be seen, which worried him greatly. Should they not have objected to their prince of princes being escorted by any other than them? His mind instantly went to the worst possibilities. There had to be trouble afoot, he was certain of it. His men knew better than to quarrel; perhaps it was the fault of a local? He wondered this, as his shaman meekly entered his room bearing another missive from his father. He accepted it without a word, and she disappeared as she came. Vyarin set the letter aside; he could just as easily read it tomorrow. Today, there was work to be done. Serious work.

From his satchel, he pulled his phrasebook of all the known realms of Sahas. He had thought he had studied it thoroughly when he had left home. Frustrated, he flipped through the book, sullenly repeating the lines again and again.

"I know this!" he groaned, finding only familiar pages. "I know this for certain!" Tired, he set the book down, and stumbled into the bed, peeling back the old bandages and tossing them on the ground. He dare not think what lie beneath it, as he wrapped a fresh coat of linen about his head. At last, done with the day as far as he was concerned, he lay back and dreamed dreams in Astalian.

The night went smoothly for the eight nobles gathered in the court of flowers. They drank and talked and made marry into the early hours of the evening when, eventually it was advised that they all return to their quarters. The day ahead of them was to be an important one. Many of the members of the court would be joining them in the evening for the ball the king had planned. The eight nobles would be watched with varying opinions. The ball was not set until after sundown, so they had until then to prepare themselves or do anything else they wished to do, however none were permitted to leave the castle grounds without at least one Astalian guard escorting them, mostly to ensure that they do not get lost and also that they return to the castle in a timely manner to attend the ball.

---

King Harold spent the night of the gathering polishing up the last of the details for the ball. All seemed fine, however when he awoke a messenger was waiting to deliver a message that he had been worried was coming. A rolled parchment with the seal of the Gilthan Empire was placed in his hand almost as soon as he opened the door to his chambers. Harold blinked at the scroll for several seconds before looking at the individual who handed it to him. Before he could speak the man spoke. “The Court Wizards checked it for any sign of magic before I was permitted to bring it to you.” The King nodded and waved the man off. It seemed the messenger was waiting for the queue as he turned on his heel and rushed back down the hallway.

The old King broke the seal of the scroll carefully, as if a snake would jump out at him as soon as he was done breaking it, or if he broke it the wrong way, despite being sure his Mages were more than capable of detecting any magical traps.

I greet you King Harold of Astalia

It has come to my attention that Astalia, and the remaining “free” countries have decided it was time to join together in holy matrimony in an attempt to band together and defeat the growing Empire. The King with no Heir. The fallen Sun and the broken Moon. You think this move will save you from the might of The Sovereign, but you have only gathered all the heirs into one location. How will your countries hold if they lose the next rulers? How fast will the other countries turn on Astalia if their heirs perish under Astalian protection? Call off this foolish attempt to make a stand.

You have been warned.

The King handed the letter to the nearest guard. “Burn this. The Empire is trying to scare us. The attempt of a faceless ruler who knows what the remaining counties united will result in their downfall.” The guard nodded and the letter was placed into the closest source of fire as Harold walked into the dinning hall where breakfast was prepared for the royal family as well as the visiting suitors at their convenience. He took his place at the end of the table before anyone entered and began eating in silence.

Whooshing.

What was that whooshing? Faint crashing something beat against rock with a rumble not unlike thunder, it reverberated throughout the walls, and his bones. Erick’s mind ever on the battlefield conjured images of what it could be, the rhythmic clash of weapons and armour surging as one? Was it catapults hurling balls of stone engulfed in raging fire to crumble bricks and mortar? But, where was he?

Erick’s thoughts were at once panicked - had he fallen asleep on night watch? His stomach dropped and he felt instantly intensely nauseous as he was ripped abruptly from his sleep. He awoke startled and panting heavily, the world around him spun fiercely; he wondered for a moment if he’d been knocked unconscious, but he soon recollected most of the details of the previous day. Erick began to catch his breath and he tried to swallow with an unbearably dry mouth.

He felt awful.

That damned Orcish wine.. so much for playing this cautiously.. He did remember as much as Vyarin leaving the gathering, his recollections became somewhat hazy after this event - he also remembered visiting Sinir at some point so, he must have still honoured his personal pledge to check on him later in the evening.. although Erick wondered if that rather looked like sometime earlier this morning..

What time was it anyway? Some of his company will have awoken him if he’d slept to an unreasonable hour, he was sure. A cheerful light seemed to be peering from between the exquisite fabrics guarding the window, although he had little desire to face it. Erick stirred his body with a groan, it felt heavy and he did not quite want to make it arise from the bed where he’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, dressed still in his finery.. to be fair, at least he’d retained enough sense in his inebriation to not simply slumber in the stable with Sinir - but he noted that his clothes were flecked with straw and he once again smelled of the horses which suggested he’d perhaps considered it.

Eventually with great effort, the Jörda prince hauled himself from his prone position - the spinning was worse, but, he’d done this before. After calling an attendant to deliver him water, he made to refresh and prepare himself to meet with his advisors, which he hoped would not involve some kind of scolding for his.. miscalculated activities, he’d then likely make an attendance of some sort to breakfast; the thought of food making him feel simultaneously ravenous yet unwell.. this was going to be a tough morning.

Jin awoke in the morning with a mild groan. The morning sunlight was warming her skin, but it was also in her eyes. That light made her head start to throb, and she buried her head in her soft pillow for another moment more.

“Ugh.” Her mouth was dry and papery. While she had not participated in last night’s drinking contest, she was unused to the regular wine. She’d been drinking from the silver cups all her life up until yesterday, so the real stuff was both a pain and a pleasure.

After rising up and washing her face with the warm water the maids had provided, she did her usual stretches and pushups. It was important to keep the body limber. Sir Arnold was always fond of stating that ‘danger could strike at any moment’, to keep his knights on their toes. Jinayah always had this advice in the back of her head. Even though today was a different kind of battle, it would be good to keep it in mind.

Once she was done exercising, she rang for a bath and clothing. The maids showed up promptly, with steaming, perfumed hot water, and a selection of gowns. Jin frowned, and sighed. Sulhana’s words from yesterday were still ringing in her ears.

“Ladies, please send my armor off to be buffed and shined. I will be wearing it this morning.”

A silence settled in the room. The eldest maid spoke up. She was in charge of all the others who assisted Jin in the mornings. “My lady, are you sure about that? You will be expected to dress for the occasion, and-”

“Bianca.” Jin interrupted with a word.

“Yes, my lady?”

Jin smiled warmly. “I will be wearing the armor. It’s time to be me, instead of what other people think I should be.”

“But-”

The smile dropped. Jin’s eyes and voice went sharp, and she squared her shoulders. “I believe I issued an order, not a request.” Her royal bearing shone through, and ‘no’ was no longer a possibility.

“...y-yes, my lady! Right away!”

The maids went back into action, and Jin relaxed again. She hated to pull rank like that, but sometimes it was necessary to get her point across.

Hours later saw Jin bathed, brushed, and headed down the halls toward breakfast. The armor glittered in the morning sun, and fit like a dream. She stifled a yawn into her glove and wondered just what the reactions would be.

---

---

Princess Annalise spent the remainder of the night floating from one person to the next attempting to converse with each of the visiting nobles at least once before she became too drunk to have a decent conversation. Speaking with Erick was easy enough though she did end up losing their game. It seemed as though the Prince from the North was used to drinking a much heartier amount then she was. She supposed battle would do that to someone, he seemed to handle his drink much better than any of the nobles she had had the displeasure of sharing drinks with while attending court. Alvaro seemed nice if not distracted but his conversation was pleasant. Lastly, Vyarin was much more difficult to speak with, she had a grasp on his language, she had been studying the languages of the continent since she could, however her formal speech and his casual usage was hard to navigate at times, not to mention the lack of words in his language for some of there common items. But they seemed to manage well enough in the short time they conversed, she did her best to make him comfortable as she was sure her sisters also had. Annalise was aware that the Prozdy culture was vastly different from their own so with him being in a strange environment she had no doubt that he would take some time to adjust.

Though she had fun during the gathering and tried to avoid anything that would bring down the jovial mood she did still have to consider the options for herself and her country. Something she was far too inebriated to do afterward, instead she made her way to her room, significantly less gracefully than she normally would have, changed into her sleeping attire, and slept soundly on her bed. Awaking the next morning to light peeking through her curtains which she had failed to fully close the night before. She rolled over in her bed, covering her face with her pillow groaning into it as she felt a light headache forming. She had tried too hard to beat Erick only to still fail. She groaned again when she realized that meant she would have to honor his prize of her taking a ride with him. She hated riding if she were to be honest. Dresses and horses did not go well together and whereas she knew how to ride side saddle she still despised it, it was, after all, horribly uncomfortable. Maybe she would take a page out of Jin’s book and opt for pants.

Shaking her head she got up from her bed after a couple more minutes of sulking and readied herself for the day. Choosing some more casual attire for now, as she would be expected to dress up later in the night for the ball. Though the clothing was still impressive to the common folk, Annalise didn’t have a single outfit that didn’t make her stand out from a crowd, a fact she hated sometimes. Dressed and somewhat ready for the day, Annalise exited her room and headed to the dinning hall, where she knew breakfast would be laid out for the royal family and the visiting suitors. She had to adjust herself as she exited her room. She had an appearance to keep, after all, “The Light of Astalia” couldn’t be seen as anything but the level headed, confident presence she had adopted over the years. She couldn’t show the Court or the Servants any signs of weakness or doubt, especially now, when they were so close to securing the alliances they needed. So with a deep inhale she headed toward the dining hall. Arriving to see her father at the end of the table, eyebrows furrowed as he ate in relative silence. Meals were about the only time advisers and other members of the Court left him alone. She walked toward him, kissing him on the cheek before taking a seat a little ways away from him, eating her own breakfast. The two often sat in a comfortable silence before the rest of the family gathered. Though today the silence was filled with tension from both sides. Something neither would voice aloud. Annalise silently hoped one of her sisters, or even one of the suitors would arrive soon to alleviate some of the tension.

It was inevitable. The effects of intoxication and the threat of the Empire, both.

It was a risk that they had considered the moment that the Council decided on forging alliances through matrimony. The last of the free nations had sent their noble-borne to Astalia, the greatest bastion that stood tall amidst the forests of subjugation in Sahas. And, it was always an irrefutable truth that being the tallest tree carried the risk that it would be upon its very bark that the axe would strike first. The whispers of a Gilthian emissary had reached her ears, and as Sulhana wiped away the last dregs of exhaustion and inebriation from her eyes, she knew that even the most foolish of them all would understand that the emissary heralded the Empire's threats. After all, why else would Gilthian communicate with them now after weeks of silence ever since the king's bold defiance. The ringing in her ears soon abated, and the woman cursed herself at the folly that just because she procured a mixture of herbs that stymied the immediate effects of the reds she poured for herself last night. All things considered, the orcish prince did win the competition. Yes, she did cheat which was why she only used the same two cups. No, he did not need to know such a fact. Once the celebration had ended, she had already felt the effects of the wine and wished not to appear like an inebriated fool in front of her guests. So, she formally ended the meeting and wished all the participants a wonderful night before heading to her chambers.

"Speak nothing of this, and tell the guards that are aware of the emissary's arrival to keep their tongues tied," The princess commanded to her handmaiden who nodded in response.

Sulhana strode over to her desk, her night dress fluttering behind her as she took a seat. She opened a ledger and after dipping her quill in ink, she recorded her thoughts upon the worn book. The scratching of the quill filled her chambers, and it was only when her ink had dried that she looked up at the window to notice that the morning sun had fully dangled from the sky. Its radiant beams of light filtered through the glass, illuminating the parchments and books that lined the floors and shelves. Her room was more of a hermitage than the abode of a princess with all the papyrus that hung from her walls, connected by linen strings to other pieces of parchments that reminded the princess of why she needed to keep working.

"My father is waiting in the banquet hall, isn't he?" Sulhana mused as she leaned back and tucked the stray strands of her hair behind her left ear. With a sigh, she closed her book and stored it inside her desk before standing up. "It would be impolite to keep the Sun of Astalia waiting. Would you draw me a bath, please?" She turned to the handmaiden with a grin.

---

Now dressed in a light-blue tunic with a kirtle of a darker shade of blue worn on top, Sulhana stood before the mirror as she braided her raven hair. Her green eyes gazed absently at her reflection, thoughts consumed to the idea of the suitors and how their father would bind his daughters to them in order to forge an alliance. King Harold had grown weak through the years, and she could remember only a few times wherein their father had truly tried to get to know his own children. Did he know of Annalise's bold personality during the night before? Did he know of Loreena's growing talent for magic or was he still illusioned with the idea that his daughter was still stuck with levitating sticks? Did he know of Jinayah's armor and how much the knights adored her for them to forge her one?

Perhaps, not a chance.

Once finished with her hair, Sulhana draped her light-gold mantle around her shoulders and let the thin cloth drape down to the back of her knees as she tightened the cord on her waist. With her ensemble finished, the princess strode out of her chambers before heading towards the dining hall to meet with her family. Silently, she walked on deft steps through the corridors, and though she was still lost in thought, her attention was soon caught when she heard the clinking steps of armor. The woman looked around her suddenly, noting that this was area was nearest to a certain princess' chambers, and then, a smiled formed on her lips. As the steps echoed nearer, Sulhana turned the corner just in time to see her youngest sister.

"Ask not the rose why it wears thorns as you would not ask the bull why it has horns," Sulhana said as she approached Jinayah. "For it is simply who they are," She smiled at the armored princess, her eyes examining the mesh of steel plates that hid the toned figure beneath. "I knew you would look good in it, Jin," Sulhana said, the sincerity in her voice lacing her words. "Father will throw a fit, but no secret will ever stay hidden. Best they find out now in our abode than later in foreign halls."

The girl steadied herself for a while, feeling the effects of the drink still clouding her mind. She cleared her throat then before motioning for her sister to walk with her towards the dining hall. When they neared to the large doors, Sulhana turned to Jin then.

"Men are strange creatures. Telling us what to do and what to wear, building all these rules whose origins are lost to the sands of time," Sulhana continued as she walked. "You look gorgeous in those plates, Jin," She nodded. "The knights loved you so much that they would spend a fortune to forge you a personalized set. If that is not worthy of honor-- if those princes do not deem you beautiful, I will pluck their eyes out."

Once she entered, the princess planned to quickly offer her greetings to the king first before taking a seat. She was far too tired to put up with pleasantries today. The king had deemed it a secret from her that a letter from the Empire had arrived. How foolish. It wasn't as if his own daughter was the spymaster in his own council. No secret would ever remain buried, at least not from her.

Dawn broke, and Vyarin lay awake watching the square of sun descend upon his wall. His eye darted about, catching the corners of the chamber, and in his mind he took stock of the matters ahead of him. Yes, the letter from his father. He had just about forgotten, addled as he was by the early morning. Vyarin scrambled to his feet, and winced as he struck the bedside table with his foot. Would the noise have woken anyone? He can apologize to them later. Carefully, he cracked the seal and unfolded the message. It read as follows.

"War threatens to return to the League," the message begins, without introduction or address. "Vyatka Prince of Vadai holds in his dungeon three spies resistant to torture. Suspicions say they come from Gilthan. Grazodon Prince of Perozord also reports raids coming from bandits of particular discipline and equipment. Your marriage has become more important than even before, as our retaliation would require an overwhelming force we do not possess. The heir to Astalia is Annalise of the clan Altera, distinct in her pale face and hair." By sun and moon, what a fool Vyarin had been! He nearly crushed the letter in his hand how frustrated with himself he was. She was the one princess he could not recall conversing with, not through the course of the entire night previous. He read on.

"To ensure our will is made known, I have sent your uncle Tellos Prince of Logon in command of his entire retinue to follow in your travelling path. I trust him to arrange everything goes to our favour. He will arrive in three days." Oh no. This was bad. Vyarin threw the letter on the table and sat down on the bed to think. Though Prozdy held the power, there was no denying Logon's near-comparable might. The two worked closely in their youth, his father and his uncle, expanding the sphere of the clan Kremazov; violently and remorselessly until near half the principalities in the League had some tie of blood to that name. If Tellos was being sent to Astalia, it could only mean that his father meant to declare an ultimatum. Few paths forward now will not end in blood. Quickly, Vyarin had to destroy the message! He crumpled up the letter and stuffed it in a pocket. There must be one firepit in this palace somewhere. Truly, this has become a predicament, having to keep this secret from a host who has thus far been nothing but generous. Vyarin stood up, before awkwardly sitting back down and opening up his phrasebook to review his studies. He can't be making a mistake that could cost Prozdy with his tongue.

Eventually, he made it out of the room and through the labyrinthine halls to arrive in the dining hall, where platters had been laid out for the morning. The princesses were present, as was their father, but he was the first of the suitors. He gave each of them a nod.

"I-Is good day," he said, in thickly accented Astalian. "Is my pleasure . . . to join in this morning."

Erick’s foolishly hopeful vision of slipping to breakfast without harassment was instantly shattered when he opened the door of his chamber - Grìmur, his council, was waiting for him with folded arms leaning back against the opposing wall of the corridor. “I am joyous the second son of Henrick lives” the robust man, certainly three times Erick’s elder, whom was muscularly heavy-set and evidently battle-worn had an edge about the statement, perhaps which also reflected the prince’s own notion that he was not the most preferable suitor. “It is regrettable that I am indeed alive and well” Erick responded in kind, flashing his eyebrows upwards - Grìmur knew how the prince felt about the arrangement which would render him little more than a figurehead to an alliance and certainly, the powers of Astalia would not see any of their daughters recklessly widowed, Erick knew he was to be pulled from the battlefield indefinitely and with that, any prospect to match his brother’s prepotency. Grìmur huffed, shaking his head only a small fraction before he looked away, and back to the prince, “the first daughter seemed cordial with you I am led to believe, but you must not drink so much, a crown-prince who sleeps in next to his horse is embarrassing, Erick” he scolded with a low tone, the prince expressed a sharp outward breath but resisted rolling his eyes before he began making his way along the corridor, Grìmur proceeded to escort him, “son of Henrick, this is not optional for you, your behaviour must be in the interests of obtaining the best contract for Jörda”, Erick’s council continued to berate him, although, he was not wrong to do so - Erick really did get very drunk.. oh indeed if he ever came to learn of the dried sap he invariably did not travel without.. Erick dared not consider what his criticisms may be then..

The older man stopped Erick in his tracks for a few moments as he grasped his shoulder, persuading the young prince to turn to speak with him, Grìmur let out a deep sigh through his nose as he examined his face - Erick was already clearly rankled and wore a sullen expression. He’d be hung-over, too.. perhaps this was too much for the morning? “You make your sacrifice differently Erick” he began, seemingly softening he gripped at the arm of the young man and met his eyes, “but it too is for Jörda”, Erick nodded lightly but looked away - he appreciated Grìmur’s lie but it would never be the same, he knew. He turned to continue on his way to attend breakfast, and his council gave him a hefty pat of encouragement across the back of his shoulder, they then proceeded to make light-hearted albeit mundane conversation regarding their observations of Astalia’s great city en route. Grìmur parted company with the prince shortly before he arrived at the hall, and the attending guards ushered Erick into the spacious room. There was a large table quite clearly suitable for hosting an extensive number of noble guests, however only one section was prepared and occupied by Astalia’s royal family and the first suitor in attendance - the Prozdy prince, although curiously, there was one person wearing a glorious suit of armour, perhaps a specialised royal guard? As the Jörda prince drew closer to the table, he began to recognise the features of the youngest princess whom the previous night had been dusted with dirt. A shield-maiden, perhaps? Did she too lead her father’s armies? He was both impressed and perplexed by the display.

“Good morning” he finally exclaimed boldly, as he wasn’t sure if he’d already lingered too long in silence distracted by the spectacle of Jinayah’s armour. “Your Grace” he added with a bow of his head to King Harold before taking up a position at the table, at once remembering how particularly tender he felt - a light meal of fruit and dry bread ought to be safe. Erick sat opposite Vyarin’s expansive figure, he met his eyes upon the man briefly to acknowledge him.

Jinayah was very pleased to meet Sulhana on the way to breakfast, before everyone else. Sulhana did not always tell the truth, but Jin would have known if the armor was a mistake by how smoothly she reacted to it.

“Oh yes, Father is going to have a royal conniption. I’m ready for it. I’m very tired of hiding myself.” She said with a prideful grin.

They fell into step together, heading toward the dining hall. When Hana said she’d pluck the princes’ eyes out for not finding her beautiful, she chuckled and shook her head. “It’s not about the beauty, Hana. It’s about the respect. Always has been.”

Then they entered, and she bowed to her father. “Good morning.” She did her best to keep a smirk from her face as she locked eyes with the man. There was a battle of emotions behind his eyes, at least the ones she could read. Surprise as he took in the armor. Confusion as this was not her usual male clothing. A sudden flash of anger as he realized where it would have come from. She almost saw his mouth make to open, but by the end, it did not. Perhaps if they hadn’t had guests, there would be an interrogation. Instead, there was a look of wan acceptance, and then distraction, as Jin finally settled at the table with a polite clanking of metal.

Sulhana had given her pointers on how to read people’s faces years ago. She said that those were the unspoken words, and that they often mattered more than what left the mouth. Jinayah had found this true. No one would outright say that she couldn’t do these things. But their expressions certainly hinted at it. It was worst around the older nobles. Most of the time, new courtiers were confused. Shocked. Scandalized, even. Funnier, some of the younger nobles seemed amused, or even pleased. Especially the daughters. She was used to all of it, but she wondered just what level of reaction proper armor was going to get her.

The princes were beginning to filter in now. She greeted Prince Vyarin with a little smile and nod. It seemed his Astalian had improved. Perhaps he’d studied even after the party? If so, good on him. Prince Erick was another story. She’d stopped him in his tracks – that, or the sun had. He did have quite a lot of wine last night. But she tilted her head in a very proud way as he too, sat.

Now all they needed was Prince Alvaro, who she had yet to really meet besides the polite introduction.

---

---

As the others began to file into the dinning hall the tension seemed to shift and disperse a little bit, though Annalise could still tell there was something on her father’s mind. Whatever it is weighed heavy on him but he hadn’t uttered a word of it to her while they were alone. She figured she could get some information from Hana later. Her younger sister had to know something, she always did. It was as she was thinking this that Hana and Jin entered the hall together. Jin, wearing a well crafted suit of armor. Anna briefly remembered overhearing some of the guards talking about it but she wasn’t aware they had gone through with it, or that it had already been gifted. A gentle smile rested on her lips as she admired her youngest sister. She knew their father was liable to have a conniption over this, having never fully approved of Jin’s “boyish mannerisms”, but it seemed the presence of other guests and whatever else was on his mind rendered him silent, his facial expression being the key in determining his opinion. Anna knew that, if their mother was still alive, she would be proud of Jin for standing up for herself in this manner, and just knowing that made the eldest sibling smile.


“You look quite striking in that armor sister, it suits you.” She complimented her sister as she took her seat. She also nodded a greeting to Hana as she too seated herself. She could feel their father’s eyes on her, seemingly boring holes into the side of her head for daring to enable Jin’s behavior. It was a small win but one she would take nonetheless. He has raised her to be the perfect leader, it was only right that at least one of his daughters deviate from what he had planned for them, if only just a little bit. Though if she really thought about it. It was only herself that had stuck to his plan. Jin decided to learn to fight and Hana had taken it upon herself to become the spymaster she is now. Annalise was the only one who was still fully on the path her father intended, but what was she to do? The fate of the kingdom, her people, lay squarely on her shoulders after her father’s. At least until she was married to one of the Princes here. It wasn’t until now that she realized how much she truly despised this plan. She would not give up control of her kingdom so easily. Whoever married her had three options. Fight tooth and nail for control from Annalise, surrender control to her, or find a way to negotiate to make them equals. It was time to start weighing her options, even though her head was still throbbing from the night before.

Sometime during her thoughts the others had also entered the dining hall. She gave them all a polite nod but ate in silence. That was until her father began to speak.

---

The King watched as one by one his daughters and the suitors entered. His biggest focus being on Jin when she entered however Annalise quickly complimented her sister which resulted in the man staring at his eldest child wondering if she had supported Jin in this endeavor all along. His daughters never really truly spoke to him. Not as one would think a daughter would to a father.

As he ate silently most of the pieces of his puzzle had gathered, they were missing the Elven prince, something King Harold noticed was a trend. The Elven prince seemed to be avoiding interaction with his daughters and he couldn’t quite figure out why? Custom maybe? He couldn’t tell. Regardless he eventually cleared his throat to speak waving his hand for a man to stand beside him. This man was to translate his words to Prozdy as he had noticed the forign prince had a hard time keeping up the day before.

“Tonight is the Ball. Everyone’s attendance is required. It will be the first time the common folk see any of you together so please make sure to make a good impression. In the meantime you are free to do as you please, however I ask that you remain on the castle grounds. Should you leave you are to take a few members of the Astalian Guard with you, regardless of how many of your own men may be milling about.” After finishing his statement he stands from his seat and exits the hall, only stopping if someone wishes to speak with him before he leaves. Leaving the rest of the group to continue eating or leave as well if that is what they desired.

Awkward, that was a way to describe it.

There was something of a rift between the King Harold and his daughters. Erick had not noticed at first, but after he’d settled into his place he could sense the armour with which the youngest princess was equipped had been deliberate - not only to impress or antagonise the suitors, but to antagonise the King himself.

Erick was no stranger to a disappointed father and he found himself glancing at Jinayah as he tried to scan her expression in these brief glimpses; he did not want to make his observations too obvious. She was brave to challenge the King in such a manner, or at least this was how Erick considered it.. pushing boundaries could bring great benefit or punishment, really you had to be prepared for the latter. Erick did wonder if the control King Harold exerted over his daughters was waning, becoming threadbare - did the marriages serve an additional purpose for him?

The Jörda prince ripped pieces of dry, fluffy bread and consumed them slowly with the occasional drink of water. He was sure he couldn’t face the butter - the soft yellow velvet, fatty and ordinarily palatable was currently unappealing, he was sure anything dairy based would instantly curdle in his gut.. he tried not to think about it and continued to mull the bread slowly around his mouth - Grìmur would say he resembled his horse.. Erick swallowed reluctantly given this thought and sipped at water. His palms felt sweaty, however he was concealing his delicate condition remarkably well, for now.

Just don’t think about being sick.

No don’t think about it Erick.

He was sure some colour was draining from his face and he felt warm, he swallowed hard and breathed deeply.. to his relief the King interrupted the cascade of thoughts and he used every sense to focus on the address of the King.

’so please make sure to make a good impression’

Erick’s eyes slipped away, he scanned the Astalian daughters.. it was a generic remark, surely? The prince was at once both slightly self conscious and yet offended by the request of the Astalian King - the common folk? Erick had little to no regard for the common folk of Astalia, he’d be returning to Jörda, but sure, he’d play this game, he’d win the best contract for his homeland. The last comment from the King was not without its undertones, there was a concern in his voice and the prince considered if something was amiss - he was certain the gathering of the suitors was no longer a secret only too long ago, in spite of this any kind of assault on the capital or to infiltrate her walls would be brazen but.. not impossible.

Erick stood to bow as the King made his leave, and once again was seated.. slowly of course, as to not disturb the meagre contents of his fragile stomach.

The morning came to greet his fellow heirs as they entered the dining hall in the minutes following. Vyarin watched them, warily, having realized with his father's most recent letter an unfortunate truth. No matter how amiable their spirits, these other princes were to a certain understanding his enemies. They shared a goal with himself, no doubt at the behest of their own fathers. His visit here has become a game he was in no position to win, where the winner was the most articulate, the most charming, the most able to mask their anger and animosity under a veil of smiles and dancing steps. Vyarin was hardly a shaman; he would no nothing about divination of the future via those esoteric methods, of scattering dust in the air or cutting the guts from livestock. Yet, in his future he could see a very real possibility of returning home in disappointment, of suffering a judgement from his father as cruel as those the elder prince-of-princes was known to inflict upon those who failed him sorely. Vyarin was not ready to lose his other eye.

A sigh, his own, broke him out of his thoughts. How irrational he was sometimes. His own father carving out his eye? It boggles the mind. He is scaring himself with mere stories. Relieved, he broke open the bread laid before him and shoved a sizeable portion of it in his mouth. There seemed to be a lack of meats on the table today. Perhaps the people of this land didn't take meat in the mornings. His eyes met those of the man he suddenly realized was sitting before him. Vyarin gave him a nod in kind, but then felt it was insufficient. He should at least speak a little; if nothing else, than for practice.

"Was much joyous, in the night," he said, low and quiet so as not to disturb the rest of the table. "You was great champion, I think. Many cups to drink." He gave the other prince a nervous smile, perhaps a few molars too wide. "A hunter also? I cannot to drink the . . . the grape-water. Err- the 'wine'. Animal I can defeat many. Animal you have in your homeland? Penguin, bear, coatl also?" Alas, Vyarin only knew the Prozdy names for the creatures of the earth.

---

---

King Harold exited the dining hall with little resistance from the others. Annalise continued to eat, listening to the rest speak. It wasn’t until Prince Vyarin started talking about animals that the promise she made to ride with Prince Erick surfaced once more. If anyone was paying enough attention to her, they would see her expression shift from her normal calm expression to one of annoyance, or maybe even dread, for a split second before she corrected herself and cleared her throat.

“I apologize for interrupting your conversation Prince Vyarin, Prince Erick, but the subject of animals has made me remember the wager I made last night, that of course I lost. Normally I wouldn’t do this but I am afraid I must postpone your winnings Prince Erick, with such an important event happening tonight I must make sure the proper preparations are in order.” This was a lie, her sisters would be able to call her out on it from a mile away, though she hoped they did not. In truth she had a pounding headache and would rather spend the time before the ball in the library reading or even soaking in a very long bath. Her handmaidens would have a fit if she sat in the water that long so the quiet of the library seemed the best option.

She also hoped she would be able to catch either of the other two suitors before the ball. She had occupied most of her time with Prince Erick the night before and she hadn’t really had the opportunity to converse with the others. Jorda was the closest thing to an ally even before the alliance by marriage was proposed. The country had been Astalia’s shield for ages. She seemed to have gravitated toward her usual diplomatic approach even without realizing it. She felt it was unfair to the others to have done this, and even though they would have the option to speak during the ball she still wanted to speak to the others without the prying eyes of the Court and the Citizens. After all, they only had a little more than a day to make a decision on who they would wish to marry. Now was time for strategizing, weighing the pros and cons of each suitor.

She stood from her seat, signaling she was finished with her meal. “If anyone needs me I have some research to complete, to ensure the preparations are correct. I will be located in the library for a while.” She gave the group a curtsy and headed out the same door her father had exited before her. Should she catch up to him and see what was troubling him? No, he would only tell her everything was fine. She would ask Sulhana later if she knew anything.

Jinayah watched quietly as her father and sister made their exits. Anna was lying; for what reason she did not know. She knew Sulhana would see through it just as fast, but hopefully the princes would not. It was just a touch rude for the crown princess to break a promise so easily. Maybe Anna wasn’t feeling well. Or maybe she just wanted some peace and quiet before the ball.

While part of her wanted to join her eldest sister in the library, away from prying eyes, Jin felt that she had to do something to appease what could be an awkward situation. “Prince Erick. I was actually planning on doing some riding myself, this afternoon. Since you may be unoccupied, I would be honored if you would join me.” Her new armor needed some breaking in, and her horse would need some time to get used to the new weight. Plus, she had caught the prince peeking out of the corner of her eye. He might be brave enough to ask questions instead of just talk behind her back.

She sipped at her fruit juice, addressing the rest of the table. “I hope everyone had a restful night, after my dear sister’s party?”

Just as Erick once again took his seat, his eyes flicked to the sizeable Prozdy prince before him and much to his surprise, he began to address him in thickly accented, broken Astalian. Erick responded with a shrug, nod and an uneasy smirk at what he supposed was a fairly fun remark regarding the previous evening, the conversation then moved on and Erick strained to understand some of the words which Vyarin was himself in the process of translating, “uhhh, bear..yes, very large” he expressed grinning with enthusiasm, given Vyarin’s particular choice of words, Erick wondered if their methods of hunting greatly differed.. at this point the eldest princess, Annalise spoke up breaking through their conversation.

The Jörda prince was somehow both agitated and relieved as she declined her attendance for the morning horse ride - it would have been a good opportunity to make a further impression, but.. he did feel quite unwell, perhaps a blessing in disguise? Erick blinked as she arose, almost lost in his thoughts he hastily stood as she began to make her leave, “Of course, Princess” he acknowledged and returned to his seat once she had vacated. The company was dwindling.. two suitors and two princesses, but the Prince Gil was yet to make an appearance. There was a short silence and Erick considered if returning to his conversation with Vyarin or engaging the princesses was the wisest option, but the youngest princess, Jinayah spoke up to break the stifling quiet; his eyebrows flicked upwards with her suggestion, “it will be my pleasure” he replied with a smile, before she then turned her attention to the table collectively.

Erick wasn‘t sure if Jinayah’s question was mostly rhetorical, and the Jörda prince considered to himself with some regret he’d spent a portion of it in the stables.. he wondered if they were aware, hopefully not.. he cleared his throat, “yes, indeed” he expressed with a guttural voice, he scanned the others only briefly and continued to eat, picking at his dry bread and a small handful of black grapes.

---

The next morning Gil was woken by Sioban. The Prince groaned and sat up not wanting to be awake just yet. “Wake up sleepy Prince, we got things we need to do today.” The upbeat voice of the shaman rang out as Gil rolled his eyes and stood up to stretch the sleep from his limbs. This seemed to please the Shaman who left Gil to prepare for the day. He dressed himself in his most casual outfit. His clothes were nothing special. If one didn’t know better he could easily be mistaken for a common member of society. Only those who knew of the significance of his braids, beads, and threads would be able to pick out that he was royalty. He doubted many of the Astalians would notice though.

After getting dressed for the day he left his room and found both Sioban and Aldar waiting for him outside his room. “The King has ordered that we remain within the castle grounds without an Astalian guard’s company. Something has changed and he clearly wishes to keep it out of the ears of the public for now. I will accompany you for the day.” Aldar said bluntly as Gil walked past the two and headed toward the dining hall.

It seemed his entourage had other plans as Sioban pulled Gil toward the direction of one of the gardens. “Before you partake in a morning meal, Aldar thinks it is a good idea we take the time to grant you blessings for today. It will only take a moment.” Sioban explained as he led the Prince into the garden and toward the small creek that babbled through the back of it. There Gil kneeled beside the water and Sioban began speaking in orcish, requesting that the gods of nature as well as the ancestors look after Gil in his activities for the day.

The ceremony was brief but it was long enough that Gil arrived to the dining hall after the eldest Princess had already made her exit and the others seemed close to finishing as well. He gave them all a polite nod and a morning greeting in Orcish as he took a place at the table and took in the options he had to eat. Aldar took a post on the wall behind the Prince but it seemed the Shaman had wandered off to do whatever it was Sioban had found to entertain himself with which didn’t surprise the Prince one bit, the Shaman had always been one to do his own thing.

“Big day today yea? The Ball and all?” He questioned just to see if he could start some idol chatter while he casually piled his plate high with all the food that could fit. He wouldn’t be offended if nobody answered him after all they seemed to be in their own conversations already.