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"You do not have to go through with this, Reahlain, just because your father and the council think it wise," Queen Xolani murmured, her voice gentle but firm.
She sat astride her drake, Perthanimus, her hands gripping the reins with a mix of strength and grace. Beside her, her eldest daughter mirrored her position, though her knuckles were white with tension. Perthanimus moved with a regal stride, his obsidian scales shimmering under the harsh sunlight, each step a testament to his formidable power and the queen's command.
Princess Reahlain urged her mount forward, closing the gap until her drake was neck and neck with her mother's. She tightened her thighs around the beast, feeling its powerful muscles ripple beneath her, then allowed herself a moment to relax.
"I do not worry for myself, Mother. Father is a wise man—perhaps not as wise as you, but intelligent nonetheless. It is my duty and honor as your eldest daughter to marry into a powerful family and secure peace not only for Varo, but for our neighboring lands as well."
The queen arched her brow, her gaze locking onto her child's. Reahlain, well-versed in the silent language of her mother's expressions, chuckled softly. Together, they advanced from the serene grasslands of the valley into the bustling heart of Keinia. The city's cacophony grew louder as they approached, a boisterous crowd eagerly awaiting their arrival.
As they entered the city, their people chanted in unison, voices rising to the heavens amidst the brass-topped splendor of Keinia. Women cast flower petals into the air, filling it with sweet aromas, while the enticing scents of freshly baked bread and roasting meat soon followed. Queen Xolani surveyed the crowd, taking in the proud, adoring faces.
"I harbor significant reservations about your union with a das'veyan man. Their understanding of our culture is profoundly limited, and violence mars their history, not only against their own women but also toward those of other nationalities and races."
Reahlain leaned to her right, accepting a bundle of flowers from a young mother and her child. She smiled warmly, pressing several golden coins into their hands as a token of gratitude. In Varo, they rewarded kindness, and they made sure no commoner went hungry or without necessities. Centering herself, Reahlain responded.
"I am well aware of their reputation, mother; you taught me thoroughly. I grew up hearing tales of your victories against them from before my birth. I understand your hesitance, but I also know that times have changed."
"Time does not always shift so swiftly, Reahlain. Change, particularly of such magnitude, often unfolds at a glacial pace, imperceptible to those who do not scrutinize its subtle currents."
"I cannot believe that father would put me in danger only to exploit me as a spy against those who have yet to be declared our enemies."
"Your father, like most men, is consumed by thoughts of glory and legacy, often neglecting the consequences and costs associated with such pursuits. This betrothal ceremony will reveal their true nature. After all, even a fangless snake will strike."
The Kingdom of Varo loomed before them, a breathtaking testament to ancient engineering and artistic mastery. At its heart stood a humongous castle, flanked by towering pyramids of stone and copper that gleamed in the sunlight. The castle itself, crafted from sandstone with a brass roof, radiated a regal aura. Encircling the fortress was a moat reminiscent of the legendary rivers of old, its waters teeming with life.
Tall trees, known as solara palms, dotted the landscape, their boughs heavy with ripe, golden fruits. Workers busily harvested the caundae fruits, while children ran and played along the pathways.
As their mounts strode forward, the crowd bowed and parted reverently. Step by step, their path cleared, guiding them to the majestic entrance of Varo, its grandeur stretching for miles, a symbol of power and legacy.
"I am genuinely excited to meet my future husband. I pray he is both handsome and kind. Given the laws surrounding our marriage, I am confident he has done his utmost to prepare for the trials ahead."
Xolani urged her drake forward with a firm kick. "There is more to tembela, my dear, than looks and kindness. Truly, I pray he and his family can endure the heat and relentless sun of our land. The das'veyan people were not meant for the Sun Lands any more than we are meant for the frozen wastes of Aga'nasta."
"I am sure they will manage. After all, they have lived in the southern Sun Lands for over five generations. According to the messages father has shown me, they are very eager to visit and witness our tembela. I do not believe they would dare lie, especially to the rulers of Varo. Your name is known far and wide, Mother, so much so that father's often crouches in its shadow."
Xolani smirked. "The same will be said of you and your husband when the time comes for you to finally be called wife and queen. There is no man in this world who could ever outshine a Melinaisian woman."
"How can you be so sure, momma? I may be the princess of Varo, but my betrothed hails from a lineage of people who forged their own path against all odds. They built a life here when everyone was against them."
"Because you are my daughter and a Dos'Soma. There is nothing they have forged that we have not already accomplished. Always remember, Reahlain, no matter what happens, the blood that runs through your veins is that of starlight and cosmic power."
"I swear."
The queen and her daughter halted before the grand staircase of the castle, which led to the imposing double doors of its grand hall. With regal grace, they dismounted their steeds. Locking arms and sharing eager smiles, they ascended the stairs, their presence exuding an aura of power and destiny as they approached the heart of their kingdom.
At the top of the grand staircase stood King Vulferam Dos'Soma and Princess Nyjalee, both resplendent in their matching robes. The king was a vision of regal authority, draped in golden armor over rich black and purple garments that flowed around him like a shadow kissed by sunlight. His smile stretched from ear to ear, a beacon of pride and joy that lit up his weathered face.
Beside him, Princess Nyjalee cut an equally striking figure. She wore the feminine counterpart of her father's attire, the golden armor accentuating her lithe form while the dark fabric of her robes contrasted beautifully against her tan complexion. Her full thighs, revealed by the artful slits in her gown, added a touch of elegance and strength to her appearance.
Yet, despite her beauty, Nyjalee's expression was one of barely concealed displeasure. A veil of scowling marred her otherwise flawless features, a stark contrast to her father's unabashed happiness. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving, surveyed the scene below with a mixture of disdain and resignation, hinting at the burdens she bore and the battles yet to be fought.
Ever eager to see her father, Reahlain slipped away from her mother's side and threw herself into his arms. He embraced her warmly, his eyes shining with affection. Nearby, Xolani reached out to pinch the cheek of her youngest daughter, a playful smile on her lips.
"Did you enjoy riding with your mother, my dearest?" Vulferam asked, his voice brimming with pride.
"Of course, Papa, but the real excitement begins now," Reahlain said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She glanced over at Princess Nyjalee, who managed to churn up a polite smile, though her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. Reahlain's heart went out to her little sister, understanding the weight of expectations that rested on them. Reahlain passed the flowers she had been given to her sister.
"Nyjalee, I know you have always had a fondness for flowers. I would like you to have these." Reahlain offered the bouquet with a gentle smile.
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Princess Nyjalee accepted them with delicate hands, murmured a faint, "Thank you, sister." She then turned and followed their parents down the corridor, her steps echoing softly against the stone walls.
As the royal family made their way into the grand hall, the air buzzed with a blend of nervous energy and festivity. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting Varo's storied history and intricate carvings illustrating the tales of its people. The fragrance of exotic spices lingered in the air, enhancing the sense of grandeur that enveloped the space.
Servants bustled about, completing the final preparations for the ceremony that would take place the next day. One servant, poised and ready to assist, stepped forward to pull the king's seat from under the table. However, King Vulferam waved him away, choosing instead to pull out his wife's chair himself. Once Xolani had settled into her seat, he did the same for his two daughters before taking his own place at the table.
"Now that you and your mother have had your time to prepare, let us discuss what will take place in the coming days," King Vulferam said softly.
"To be frank, my love, I harbor considerable hesitation regarding Reahlain's union with that Das'veyan prince. Such a marriage presents significant dangers."
The king and his daughters sighed in unison, a familiar weariness settling over them. This was an argument they had witnessed countless times before.
"I am well aware of the dangers," King Vulferam began, his tone firm yet measured, "but the benefits to the realm outweigh the risks. Reahlain is more than capable of handling herself in marriage. She was raised by us both and trained directly under your gaze. There is little in this world that could challenge her, let alone a minor house such as the Paraxious clan."
"The benefits to the realm cannot surpass the safety and happiness of our daughter. I must err on the side of caution in this matter, husband. I do not believe her betrothed will even pass the trials of marriage, let alone prove a suitable husband and potential father to her children."
Nyjalee squirmed in her seat, her eyes flitting between her father and mother. She usually relished their debates, but this one struck too close to home. In her mind, she should be the one getting married, not her sister. Despite her fondness for her father, she understood the gravity of her mother's concerns. Unable to remain silent, she interjected.
"Mother, is it his race that makes you so hesitant? Or is it because your favorite daughter is marrying a das'veyan that you're so skeptical?" Nyjalee's voice dripped with defiance, her eyes flashing with barely concealed irritation.
"Partly, I will admit, daughter. However, as you well know, I do not have favorites among my children. Such thoughts should leave your mind at once. I have never shown favoritism, and it pains me to think you believe otherwise. To address your concern further, the das'veyan people have always harbored violent intent; I have witnessed it firsthand. My primary concern is your sister's safety and the well-being of our realm, which your father and I have spent decades building."
Vulferam rose his hand into the air to silence the conversation. His brow arched at Nyjalee before his features relaxed to address his wife and queen.
"I am well aware of their history of violence. However, the Paraxious clan has shown no aggression toward us or our allies. They seek only to integrate into our culture and nothing more."
"They seek to infiltrate our midst and ascend a ladder of power never intended for them. To make matters worse, they aim to achieve this using the life and legacy of our daughter."
"And what about what I think?" Reahlain interjected, her voice cutting through the tension. "I am actually excited to be creating a joining outside our race. This union offers both sides an opportunity to mend a bridge that has been broken for thousands of years. Do you understand how powerful that makes me? How powerful it would make my tembela, that my future husband and I could end a war between two races for good?" Her eyes blazed with conviction as she spoke, daring anyone to challenged her resolve.
Nyjalee scowled and turned her face away from her family for a moment. Rising to her feet, her nails dug into her palms, their sharpened edges biting into her skin.
"Please excuse me. I am not feeling well and must take my leave," she said, her voice taut with restrained emotion.
Vulferam and Xolani exchanged a knowing glance and nodded, recognizing that the conversation had become too overwhelming for their youngest child. Once Nyjalee had departed, they resumed their discussion.
"Reah," Xolani began, her tone measured and thoughtful. "Do you truly view it this way? Are you willing to marry a man you scarcely know, and immerse yourself in a culture unfamiliar to you, merely to mend issues you did not create? Would you undertake such a significant sacrifice for the greater good of both our people and theirs?"
Both the king and queen waited with baited breath as their daughter hung her head momentarily.
"I would, because it is my duty and my honor to do so. I am Reahlain Dos'Soma, Princess of the Kingdom of Varo, and I shall ensure my marriage is one sung through the centuries. My legacy will be carried forward by the children born of this union, and I will rejoice that the gods chose my body and spirit to guide those lost in the valleys of hatred. I am your daughter, and mama, I will be fine."
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