[b]"It is as I said, he is not as strong as he seems."[/b] 

Lady Cheldarine sighed and let the curtain she had been holding fall back into place. As she turned back towards Princess Elise a shadow pasted over her face. A look of pain, of sorrow. The look of person remembering something they would much rather forget. 

[b]"This war, it has destroyed almost everything it touches, and that is true of both your county and mine. But Eorzia is larger and richer, and the land here... well you must have seen it on your journey to the capital. Every Formori fighting is another one taken from the fields. Every fighter that falls in battle needs to be replaced."[/b] 

That expression lingered there across her features once again. From the sleeve of her dress, she drew out a small square of white silk and used it to dab the corner of her amber eyes. She did not fully loose her composure, but it was clear enough that something was clearly affecting her.

[b]"My own husband... well, it is common enough story for citizens of both our lands." [/b] The handkerchief disappeared once more into whatever secret pocket it had been drawn from. That pained look too disappeared, but away into the other secret pocket all people possess, the one in which they hide the contents of their heart. 

[b]"But the point is that there are fewer and fewer to work the land, and the land was poor to begin with. Three of our last five harvests have been marred by Ashfall. Without a proper harvest this year, Morganyth will starve. If there is peace then the soldiers can home, they can work the fields, they can get the harvest in."[/b] 

On the journey from Eorzia they had indeed past innumerable empty and barren fields, left fallow once they had entered Morganyth territory. There had been fewer signs of this poverty and privation in the palace where Elise had been staying, but the feast she had attend had indeed been meaner than those in Eorzia. There was often a lack of common foods, such as soft fruits or fresh vegetables. Even the portions of the Formori were mostly smaller than those of the Eorzians.  

[b]"So you see the dilemma that faces the King? He must have peace before the harvest. Either he risks everything, on one last desperate assault against your family and your Kingdom in order to crush you completely before the autumn, or he negotiates. Now my cousin can be a fool at times, but he is not completely reckless."[/b]

She walked back towards the Princess and seated herself back down upon the cushions there once more. Her face was grave, she was deadly seriously. 

[b]"He needs you. He needs the lands and the peace your marriage brings in order to rebuild his country, in order to salvage something from this mess of a war. It is either that or risk defeat and ruination on scale he has thus far avoided. I tell you this not for the love of my country or my people or for the sake of my cousin. I tell you this because I need you to make this marriage work too. I need you to save my sons from this war, because it is they who will be fighting it next if this peace does not work."[/b]

There was now a desperate edge to her voice. 

[b]"And it may not seem this way to you now, not after what he has done you. But now you are in Morganyth, you need him. You need Ozragad. My cousin can behave like a monster at times. But he is nothing compared to some of the men who once followed him and oppose the peace now. Men like Zakylwe Ahoraa."[/b]