A beam of sunlight shone lazily between the heavy velvet curtains of the empty drawing room, now pulled apart to expose the tall windows. A figure sat by one of them, her face barely illuminated and her flushed, delicate fingers methodically working a needle back and forth through a silken cloth. Already dressed for travel, she waited. It wasn't long before a door opened. There were several seconds of uncertain silence, to which Mjarre did not react, and a small "um"... [color=ed145b]"Eloquent, Your Highness, but perhaps using words will serve you better?" [/color]Mjarre did not look up from her work but a playful smirk tugged at her lips. Her younger brother scoffed, but then straightened his back and held his chin a little too high. "Mother calls for you. We shall be leaving shortly." he said stiffly, his still childlike voice comically formal. The princess stood up and joined him in the doorway, not a twitch in her face betraying the suppressed giggle. Merin - named after the soon retiring king of their neighbours in honour of his generosity to Geriang - had just turned twelve and their parents were beginning to insist upon him behaving more like a prince than a young boy. He would be accompanying her on the visit to Handon, "to hone his courtly manners" as Eressi had put it when she proposed the idea. Mjarre knew for sure that he was even more nervous than she was about the journey. She found it hilarious. [color=ed145b]"Lighten up, Merin, you're not the one getting married off!" [/color] The boy glared at her and this time she did not stifle her chuckle. He'd inherited their mother's soft golden eyes that made it impossible for him to look intimidating. The stone halls, richly decorated with paintings and tapestries, but hardly anything else that could get in the way, were much more difficult to navigate today. The castle was bustling with activity as the last of the preparations for their departure were made. The two of them, however, did not hurry on the way to their mother's private library, savouring each step on the soft, dull red carpet that they wouldn't see again till their return. The queen could wait. She was a patient woman. She was waving a newly written letter in the air as they entered, attempting to speed up the drying of the ink. Her imposing walnut desk was consumed by a scattering of parchments, documents, crumpled paper and quills. She liked to be Involved. [color=ed145b]"You called for me, mother?" [/color] The queen seemed startled but she smiled warmly. "Ah, my dear, just on time!" she neatly folded up the parchment, tucked it into an envelope and sealed it, stamping her ring into the wax. She turned to Mjarre once again and handed it to her, "This is to announce your arrival to our generous host. Be a dear and send a bird to Gor Ithios, I'm sure the Lord Arch-Magus would prefer to be informed in advance." Mjarre nodded a small bow and tucked the envelope away. She watched the tendrils of her mother's hair delicately unfurl as she stood from the ornate chair and walked over to her cabinet. The queen carefully took out a small lacquered box, beautifully carved with an intricate floral pattern. "And this, you will deliver personally. It would be unbefitting of a royal guest to arrive empty-handed." The princess held the box gingerly and bowed once again. Her mother smiled affectionately and placed a warm hand on her cheek. "Good luck, sweetling. I am sure you will bring great honour to Geriang and our house...Take care of Merin." With this, they parted. Soon the procession accompanying them set out on the long journey to Handon. A large, brightly coloured parrot flew overhead. [center]---[/center] [i]"To Lord Arceus Kallidus Kyros, Arch-Magus of Cathal Lord Kyros, I hope this letter finds you in good health. Please accept my congratulations for your inheritance of your noble father's title - I understand it was hard-earned. As we both know, I presume, His Majesty King Merin of Handon has generously invited us to participate in the events surrounding his impending retirement. I recently received a letter from him to inform me that it is your noble house that would be hosting the delegation from Geriang. I hope my daughter - Princess Mjarre, and my son - Prince Merin, can count on your hospitality, and that you will find their company agreeable. I do pray we are not causing too much of a disturbance to your affairs. You have my gratitude. Warm Regards, Shakti of House Dionaea, Queen of Geriang"[/i] [center]---[/center] Clouds piled overhead as the delegation neared the city. It would rain soon. Despite the gloomy weather Mjarre found the view quite breathtaking - she'd never been to this part of Handon, only the capital once or twice. She and Merin sat in the ornate carriage, deep red and bearing the royal crest. Her hands were yet again preoccupied with embroidery - a flock of birds that created a strange twisting pattern - though her eyes often wandered outside. The carriage was flanked by rattlers - large lumbering beasts with shiny nut-like carapaces on their heads that twitched and chittered constantly. Their arms ended in long sharp claws. Mjarre imagined they must look even more fierce to the handonians, who weren't used to the sight of them. Other creatures trailed behind and up front. She hoped they wouldn't upset the locals too much before they reached their destination...