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[i]Alliances. Pacts formed by such a bond are strong indeed but Astalia will be torn apart by so many claimants that I fear for what will happen to its walls and bastions in the near future. Astalia's King will fade away soon, and from his grave shall soon rise the ambitious and the selfish while the voices of his daughters will be buried beneath the whims of men.[/i]

The third princess' thoughts were occupied by such grim ponderings that her mood soured in an instant when her father acknowledged her. Her mother jumping for joy at these developments couldn't be farther from the truth. But, the king was slowly becoming a broken man, the fragments of the benevolent ruler buried with the queen who he loved more than all the stars in the night sky. She felt sorrow for her father but the girl who had worked so hard to heal the forlorn monarch had given up on that endeavor many a winter moons ago. Sulhana had become a woman who now knew that every single one of her sisters needed to play a part to keep their land from being torn to pieces from enemies both within and beyond its borders. Her eldest sister, Annalise, was to become its face and maintain its reputation with her gentle hand in diplomacy. Loreena's role was to strengthen its might and reign with her magical awakening. Jinayah was to become its sword should the need arise, and to rally all of its people as proof that even a woman could lead when a man failed to do so.

Hers... was to become the web that would keep all the shadows together, the brighter their rule would become.

But, for now, she needed to slide between the sunbeams unnoticed. Her plan for a shared rule among her sisters would be kept hidden under the darkness of night lest the prying eyes of these suitors shatter years of her plotting. So, with a sigh, Sulhana settled down in her assigned seat with back straight and hands clasped firmly upon her lap. When her sisters started appearing within the hall, Sulhana greeted them warmly with a smile.

Her heart lightened at the sight of her better siblings, knowing that she must protect the innocence that each of them possessed from those that would do them harm. 

Her father never truly knew the price she paid to cultivate the seed of her whispers until its roots ran deep into the heart of Sahas. She bartered everything she could to obtain control over her spies: threats, promises, pleasure. All of it she sacrificed upon the altar of her father's rule. She had harmed many. Most more deserving than some, but it went without saying that the voices of those she wronged lulled her to sleep at night and greeted her at first light on the morrow. Sulhana knew that the hem of her dress dripped red with the tears of those she had harmed to realize her ambitions, and wherever she walked, the stains marred the ground in her wake. She was beyond redemption, this the third princess knew. However, just because she was adorned in the filth and muck, did not mean she would track the mud stains of her deeds to the parapets of Aeli. Her secrets, and all who would know them, would die with her, if need be.

A game of secrets. Yes, this would be the name of such a ploy. To know the secrets of each of these men who stood in front of them, all dressed in the cloths and colors of their cultures, so he could pull them by the strings and ensure that the Four Daughters of Astalia maintained their grip over the kingdom's power.

When Sulhana stood up, she beckoned to the shadows which prompted a large man to peer out until he stood in full view. The robes he wore were emblazoned with the spymaster's sigil: an ashen snake coiled around a pair of white antlers. His dark eyes were dull, cast down as if the vibrancy of life had escaped such a husk of a man. But, with a single wave of Sulhana's wrist, the man scurried off to her side as she walked down to the line of princes. The spymaster stopped a few respectable paces in front of them, and she offered a traditional curtsy as a sign of respect. Then, as she spoke, the man behind echoed her words fluently in the Prozydian Tongue. Her whispers had informed her of that the Tongue of Astalia was not so well spoken beyond the mountain ranges. It was better to come prepared to hopefully send a message that Astalia's web had latched on to the walls of their nations, and to tread carefully lest the spiders heard.

"As a member of the King's Council, allow me to also extend my greetings and my gratitude to you all for gracing our halls. We are honored to be hosts to such nobles. I am Sulhana, third princess of Astalia," Sulhana greeted them. She offered a small bow and a smile, clasping her hands in front of her waist as she looked up at them. "My lords, I am sure the journey has been hard. The sun harsh and the roads long," With a wave of her hand, the servants filed out with jugs of cooled water and golden chalices. "A little offering to relieve your thirst, should you need it."

Her eyes swept over the suitors, and she tried to study them and uncover whether the whispers were true. First, her eyes settled on the large man who easily dwarfed the spymaster of Astalia just as the woman looked up at him. The clothes he wore framed his well-toned physique. His clean-shaven appearance and his lone eye informed the princess that this man had known nothing but physical trials and manual labors his entire life. He was, in all fairness, easy on the eyes despite the telltale rag that covered one of his. His [i]scar[/i] from the whispers. His armor, worn yet polished, indicated a time well spent on the field of battle. Her gaze wandered briefly to the protective iron, seeing a semblance of his story just within the small dents and chinks in the creases of his vambrace and even the plates on his chest. He was used to a lifetime of duty, it seems. A dog in the servitude of its owner.

"You must be the Prince of Princes and the First Lord of the League, Prince Vyarin, son of Zarrir of Prozdy. The military might of your people is known to Astalia, and your sense of duty is [i]known[/i] to us, Prince Vyarin. Much like another dutiful sister of mine," She briefly glanced at Annalise with a chuckle.

Then, to the next prince, she turned to him and with a smile, the princess nodded to Alvaro. The elven people were always of fair appearance, almost enchanting and if Sulhana was any lesser woman, her eyes would shimmer with charmed endeavor. Her heart would pound with wanton desire at the sight of his fair complexion and his sharp jawline. The silvery shadows of his hair would have enmeshed her in a trance, threatening to unravel the naive princess of Astalia into a lovestruck dame. But, Sulhana was past such childishness, and such tales of love were better off locked away in a chest, never to be opened again.

"Prince Alvaro of Lorien. The elves have always proven good friends to Astalia and to all the lands that still remain defiant of the Empire, and I hope we remain allies in the futures to come."

The third prince grabbed her attention though, and it wasn't to his gruff appearance nor his towering stature that her words eluded her. No. Rather, it was with genuine curiosity that Sulhana paused before addressing the orcish prince. Orcs were not unheard of in Sahas, but they were a rare sight. They were feared for the tales of savagery they committed. But, the whispers she obtained from the land of Afdan were nothing short of interesting. They spoke tales of civilized orcish hordes intermingling with humans, dwarves, and elves. They spoke of a gentle prince of the Jalalid dynasty that ruled the kingdom. They spoke of a prince with a white mark on his right eye. They spoke of Gil. The orc in front of her proved quite different to how she initially imagined the whispers to be.

"Prince Gil, son of Dumag," Sulhana greeted him with a grin accompanied by a relieved sigh. "Your people are known to us. Your braid, my lord," Sulhana chuckled as she smiled up at him. "A comforting sight. You must command the respect of your people."

Lastly, her attention turned to the last prince. Prince Erick of Jord. A man who had fought against the Empire time and time again. He and his brothers had paid the price of such conflict. A thousand times did the Empire slam against their walls, and a thousand times they repelled them. Her heart ached in a subtle pang of empathy for she knew the sorrow they endured as whispers from Jord flooded her desk. The princess dispelled the forlorn expression on her face as she looked up at the man. Much like Vyarin, Erick's scars were a tapestry of his past. A glimpse into the tragedies that Jorda endured in retaliation of the Empire's conquests. She seemed to read melancholy from his hazel eyes, and she felt a sense of respect at how he could still wake up and look tidy in the morning. If she had lost Annalise or any of her sisters, Sulhana couldn't even imagine how her wrath would spill.

"Prince Erick, son of King Henrick of Jorda," Sulhana began as she smiled up at him. "Your people have been the bulwark that kept Astalia's enemies at bay. For years, your people have manned the walls of the north and many have paid the ultimate toll," As she took a step back, Sulhana continued. "Prince Andor was a good man. I have no doubt you will be one as well."

The spymaster stepped up on the platform before turning once more to give an announcement to the princes.

"My father and I have arranged these but you and your retinue have been provided with grand chambers to rest your head in at night. Your men are a part of you as you are of them, and I imagine that a commander's worth can only be measured by the respect he commands. Your needs will be attended to by our servants, and food shall be abundant while you are here. I promise you: your backs shall never be cold and your stomachs shall never be empty while here in Astalia," Then, Sulhana cleared her throat. "To my sisters and to the princes, after you have finished resting, I have organized a little... gathering within the Court of Flowers. The courtyard by the sea. Just a simple time for all of us to chat, away from our good father's prying eyes," She chuckled playfully in King Harold's direction. "There will be wine, tea, cakes, and a lot more delicacies I have tried to purchase from each of your lands. My handmaids will give you the invitations and will direct you to the Court when you are ready."

She walked towards her sisters then, a mischievous look of pleading dancing between her eyes.

"Oh, I do hope my sisters can come," She spoke to them quietly with hands clasped in front of her chest. "We haven't spoken much after father's announcement, and I do sorely miss our little chats."

Then, Sulhana turned again to the princes as her puppet sprang to her side in anticipation of her words. And, as soon as Sulhana ceased speaking, he would walk off into the shadows of the castle halls, waiting to be used again.

"My lords, it is indeed a pleasure to [i]finally[/i] see you with my own eyes--"

[i]And, not just with eyes I own...[/i]

"-- And, I look forward to you accepting my invitation," She turned to her father with a deep bow. "If my presence is no longer needed, father, I shall be off now and prepare the courtyard."

After all, she didn't need to be in the room to hear. King Harold knew this well. The faintest whisper would, one way or another, land on her doorstep under the cover of night. And, should her father see the smile on her face, he would know that she [i]knew[/i] as well.