Zafiria read for a while, her book slowly lowering closer to her lap and her nose following closely behind. She smiled as the wind tugged at the pages playfully. It wasn't long until the chapter bored her and the posture she had sunk into became uncomfortable. Zafiria closed the book and looked down on the town. It was good to see that the people were able to move freely despite the uproar Frost caused. 

There was a somewhat large copper-roofed building close to the western gates of the town which was Zafiria's favourite building. It was a library that in their prosperity she had initiated the building of. It used to be a brothel mansion that was converted and a new roof put on the older, broken one. Though the building retained most of the same materials it was originally built with, Zafiria had gotten permission from her father to use the royal masons to craft gorgeous, smooth, stone pillars to decorate the place. It meant a lot to her to be able to provide a place of learning for all education levels. It meant that their community could better themselves as long as they could read and produce better items which would eventually filter into the kingdom's economy. Being the capital, this had a somewhat significant impact. She was proud of it, and she could always find it from her aloof perch. 

The town was not without a house of pleasures, but they had long since moved to a smaller location. This had made Zafiria happy since she found the whole notion of mistresses to be immoral but she couldn't deny the economic asset that having such an establishment in the town was. On top of that, though she may have been a mage gifted with the ability to connect with the wind and supposedly the key to opening the gate of Nemesis, one day she would simply be a king's daughter in need of a spouse. Mistresses were rampant in high society since many married for political gain and not attraction, not love. Chances are, her future husband wouldn't be entirely faithful to her and it was a potential reality that hurt. 

A particularly playful gust rushed past Zafiria, swirling around the desk where spellbooks lay open before dissipating. The good thing about being so close with the wind is that it almost felt like a friend, distracting her from some more of the harsher realities of her pedigree. She got up and walked to the desk, abandoning her current book on the edge of the mess of spell books. The largest one always rested in the middle and often it was that book the wind used to teach her. As much as she had a tutor, who was late, she found the wind to be much better at teaching spells. This one was fairly simple, using an incantation and some masonry dust to cause a local dust storm. The book suggested it as a tool to get away, similar to that of the smoke bombs Ninjas used. Zafiria loomed over the book after pulling it closer to the edge and began to practice the incantation, knowing that without the dust nothing would happen.