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The tip of her needle dug into the cloth, dragging the emerald thread beneath before it raised up again to cross over the initial strand. Over and over again, her fingers guided the needle as it stitched against the fabric and soon, the pattern of the spymaster's serpent shone against the gray antlers. Sulhana breathed out as she cut and tied the threads to keep the embroidery together. Her smooth hands caressed her work just as she looked up to return her attention to one of her handmaidens giving her the current pieces of news around Astalia. Rising food prices as scrupulous merchants started hoarding due to whispers of incoming war and growing unrest at the idea of the Empire treading their greaves over Astalian soil were commonplace within the recent weeks. The princess bit her lip in frustration then, leaning back against the mahogany seat. In front of her, as she sat just by the stone rails of the Court of Flowers where the seas crashed against the great seawalls of Astalia, the golden sun streaked red now against the azure sky in preparation for the incoming blanket of night.

"The Ivalan Duchy has been conquered a few days ago," Sulhana mumbled as her handmaidens continued on embroidering their fabrics. "The Ivalani duke has bent his knee to the Empire, and with it, the Gilthanians have secured themselves a noteworthy port town," She gritted her teeth then in anger. She had tried to lend aid to the Ivalani but their prideful nature and corrupt ways had all spelled their doom. The strings she pulled to eliminate their corrupt officials had amounted to nothing. Like the mythical Eternal Serpents, cutting the head of one only meant that the stump grew three more. And, by poisoning the decrepit Lord of the Treasury, his own sons inherited the duchy's finances and spent it all whoring and drinking until the duke could no longer pay the very guards that kept vigil over his walls.

There was no resistance left in Ivalan by the time the Empire's host laid siege to it.

"A rat indulges in the food inside a small jar, and eats until it bloats. And, by the time the hand returns to the jar, the vermin has found itself too fat to escape," She continued, turning her emerald gaze to the setting sun. "The Ivalani had made their decision, and I have no intention in following them to the grave. This is why, I must do what I must to ensure that these... men do not stab Astalia in the back when we least expect them."

"Do you think they will come, master?" The handmaiden inquired, knowing full well her mistress' preference to be called by such a title.

"I am unsure, but," The princess smirked as she stood up from her chair. "If they choose to attend or not to will allow me to know them a little bit more. As I always say, the worth of a man is in his first actions. Come, we have much to prepare for. Regardless, they should have received the invitations and instructions by now."

Sulhana turned to the final preparations to the courtyard. The most prominent feature of the court was a large half-ring, held up by pillars of marble, that spanned the entire courtyard. The mouth of the semi-circle faced the crystalline seas of Astalia, letting the setting sun reflect against the marbled pillars that towered over the long table stacked with various food and wine. Thick green vines hung from the half-ring, seemingly shrouding the inner circle in nature's veil as flowers of a myriad of colors bloomed around them. Torches were placed in various areas, letting the warm light radiate around the courtyard. Above, the stars of the sky began peeking into view, and soon, when the moon fully hung from the heavens, such starlight would display its full magnificence. The Constellation of the Stag floated directly above the Court of Flowers, and its cosmic radiance never ceased to amaze.

The seas pounding against the seawall was also a calming sound for the princess. The various birds sang their song as they passed above the court and into their homes in the trees. And, Sulhana wished that this could remain the same. But, war was marching on their walls and, unfortunately, this was the most plausible way to avoid it: marrying themselves off.

"Whisper into the ears of the peasantry and the knights," Sulhana instructed. "The Daughters of Astalia meeting their potential suitors beneath a starry, starry night in the Court of Flowers. The light of sun, star, and moon bore witness to these nobilities, and with them, an alliance against the Empire," She said. "Rumors, especially those that involve the monarchy, are often good distractors against the threat of war. People will be more likely to go early into their workshops to gossip regarding the possibility of royal marriages. Taverns will be much livelier with such whispers floating about," The princess turned to her group of handmaidens. "Rather than them talking about the fear of war, let their minds be occupied with the idea of four alliances and their naive princesses meeting their fated ones," Sulhana rolled her eyes then, her flesh prickling as she hugged herself tight. "I shudder at the thought, but tales of childish romance often inspire the blood to pound a heartly pyre. People will be more productive and all shall prosper."

"As you wish, master." With that, the handmaidens slipped into the darkness of the halls with a raise of Sulhana's hand.

With the bards she hired still absent, Sulhana tucked her hands behind her back as she sauntered over to the elevated platform in the middle of the courtyard where the instruments laid neatly in rows. There were flutes, lyres, and many more prepared for the musicians. And, she couldn't help but relieve her childhood memory of learning to play such instruments. It would be a tragedy though, that her first performance would be to play at her mother's yearly remembrance of her passing. She had died shortly after Jinayah's birth, and Sulhana wept at the idea that perhaps her youngest sister might have blamed herself for Tiana's passing. Sulhana had not exactly treated Jin well in their earlier days, but the third princess had learned to move beyond such tragic childishness. 

No one was to blame but the cruel hand of destiny that sewed their mother's death into the tapestry of Astalia's fabric.

She sat down on a chair just in front of an ornate zither, and her hands fell against the strings. Memories flooded her eyes then, and each twitch of sadness ran down her mind to her arm, and into her fingers which moved in melancholy against the strings. For everything that she had gained, for everything that she had lost, and for everything that she had left...

[center][i]Upon your lap I did find peace, mother.
A warm hearth against the storm of winter.
Your touch reminds men of the gentle years
Before you parted, in sadness and tears.

She came in Spring, the dew of soft morning.
Warm it was upon her lips, and chilling.
Gentle her touches upon stream and stone.
When my mother woke and walked still alone.

She stayed in Summer, the sun fierce and red,
Danced with a king, and doom fell on her head.
Full she became, and as round as the sun.
A daughter then, and joy she thought she won.[/i][/center]

Her lips sang the olden song in the ancient Astalian tongue: a story of a daughter's lament for the death of her mother. A melody sang in the olden days of the ancient mounts and when the Astalian seas still ravaged the land. And, yet, Sulhana wondered how a woman could sacrifice her body to a man. To throw one's life upon the breach, all in the name of raising a beloved. Maybe love did make people do stupid things, and she feared for the lives of her sisters. Loreena came to mind. It was no secret that she was the most amiable to this whole affair. But, perhaps, she should be more worried for Annalise. Any capable ruler would know that marrying the eldest ensured the greatest claim to the throne, and it would not be a surprise if all those men had set their sights on the crown-princess. Eager to force her to produce heirs in the name of succession.

The sudden spike of fury throbbed through her fingers, and the strings wobbled in their wake as she plucked at the zither.

[center][i]Then, autumn, the falling leaves a warning
Pale grew her cheek, and cold. Her life waning.
Bitter her kiss in sorrow grew, like myrrh
Their dance a mistake, and fatal to her.

Upon your lap, I feel so cold, mother.
Winter's bite has come, and leave did father.
Opal eyes closed be my regrets and fears,
When you parted from us in frozen tears.[/i][/center]

Sulhana looked up to the dimming horizon on the seas as the torches enflamed brighter at the coming darkness of the evening. The warm winds brushed softly against her and the princess sighed again, knowing well that those same waters might soon be filled with Gilthian sails. Alliances needed to be made, so perhaps, the only thing she could do now is wait for the right time to set a possible plan in action.

Her ledger dripped with the filth she undertook in the name of securing control and power. What was one more, if it meant ensuring her sisters' happiness?