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[color=a2d39c]Green Text[/color] - Sulhana speaks in Formal Prozdy[/center]
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It was a comforting sight, to say at the very least. The last hope for a Sahas free from the Empire's tyrannical grasp. Although the last piece was yet missing, it went without saying that the fate of all of their lands were now interwoven within this small court hidden behind a wall of fading flowers. And, at the crucible of it all were two sisters who possibly bore the most diplomatic influence out of all of them. There was Annalise whose title alone as the crown-princess drew much attention to her back. It was no secret that the princes would vie for her attention, most notably those who also bore the burden of inheritance in their own respective lands. Vyarin and Erick would obviously try and squeeze their way into her sister's good graces in an attempt to entice her to choose them once the time came for the engagements to be decided. But, if Sulhana had anything to say about such plans, she much preferred the Prince of Jorda to be closer to the Light of Astalia. The First Lord of the League was indeed a worthy suitor but... well, he was impaired in more ways than one.

Not only did Jorda share more similarities to Astalia's culture, but it would seem that one prince was more educated than the other in statecraft. Prozdyian culture was much too foreign due to the distance between their lands. Their religions even differed in a number of ways. Sulhana could see traces of shamanistic paganism and the old ways still embedded in the League and in their prince of princes. Meanwhile, Astalia and Jorda at least shared the same pantheon in Aldask. Their values also varied greatly with one putting more emphasis on martial prowess whilst the other preferred a more holistic foundation. So much differences could only result in misery, and Sulhana would be damned if she allowed Annalise to suffer and with her, Astalia. Thus, it was a necessity for her to keep Vyarin at arm's length from her eldest sister.

It was then that Loreena's voice cut through her thoughts, and her gaze turned towards her mage-sister who beamed at her as if she was as kind and as gentle as the princess she ought to be. The chalice floating in midair before it hovered to its mistress plucked an awed grin from Sulhana's lips. Such displays of actual arcanery always pricked at her heart in secret envy. Mages were far and few across Sahas. They were revered as prized individuals whose strength could amplify a nation's power and influence. Loreena was no exception. The man who trained her sister was proof of such. Uriah was a fickle fellow. Prickly. A thorn-like attitude that disdained the world and its idiocies. And, yet, he was loyal to the second princess, not to the throne. Loreena may not know it but she wielded an influence of her own. On the last council meeting before the idea of arranged marriages were finalized, there were whispers of Loreena being internally married instead to one of the vassals in hopes of keeping Astalia's magical bloodline within its walls.

But, her sister was a bird who did not deserved to be locked in a cage. It was evident that she despised intrigue and statecraft, telltale of signs of a woman who longed to be free of her golden chains. Loreena was thirsty for knowledge and freedom, only one of which could be provided within Astalia's domain. Sulhana needed to find someone who could let quench her sister's flame and let her see the land for what it truly was, not just how it was portrayed in her endless sanctum of books.

"These flowers would not be possible without you, Lore," Sulhana said as she grinned at her mage-sister. "You know these plants," The princess continued. "They only bloom when in the presence of one who carries the arcane. You have made our gathering brighter. Literally."

The spymistress lifted her chalice to the crowd in an invitation to eat, and with it, her eyes darted to the dark skies above, still shrouded by a thick roll of clouds that haloed against the dim moon. It was nearly time, but first...

"Prince Alvaro," Sulhana greeted her last guest with a curtsy as she approached the elven prince. "I am overjoyed that you could make it," She eyed his appearance. His tunic was beautiful, waves of red forming around his toned figure as if he was swathed in the very flames of a phoenix. The violet gem upon his neck radiated an alluring whisper, as if it knew the very secrets Sulhana etched upon every inch of skin on her body. The earrings he wore could definitely fetch a hefty sum but before she could start to appraise his entire ensemble, Sulhana chuckled as she beckoned for the prince to join them. "You look handsome, my lord," She tilted her head, green eyes assessing the elf. "Come, we were just about to dine together and we have a drinking game going on. Maybe you'd also like to partake," She said as she walked near Prince Gil's seat. "And, save me from Prince Gil who is really not holding back against a fragile woman like me?" Sulhana laughed, playfully slapping the large orc's shoulder with the back of her hand.

Now, the pieces were complete. The last nations still free now gathered together, searching for security and strength in one another. Their father may have become a mere shadow of his former glory, but he knew how to think of politics. And, this last alliance may actually be the answer to the Empire's growing might. Like ships to a lighthouse, they had all been drawn to Astalia from the storm and it was only a matter of time before the actual game would begin. This gathering was but a prelude. A taster of the disdainful politics that would soon try to coil at all of their throats.

Speaking of guests, there was one who was still estranged and while this had been her plan to distance Vyarin from the crown-princess, Sulhana did not have it in her to be so heartless. He seemed like a pup lost in the rain. A spider caught in its own web. So lost in this small game that he himself joined without preparation. Most of all, though, she knew he was trying his best and maybe that was enough for now.

So, with her guests busy, the third princess made her way around the table and took the vacant seat beside the Prozdy prince. They had interacted quite little. Most of her words had been said from the tongue of a person who spoke the prince's language. And, it was not to pride nor inability to speak that Sulhana decided to leave the Prozdyian to a medium. No, it was to her understanding that while she could fluently converse in Prozdy, her knowledge of his language was far too formal to be natural. Better suited to speaking as a diplomat. Not one who would sit with him on equal grounds. But, she supposed it was better than to keep hauling her servants to talk to him.

"[i][color=a2d39c]The crown-heirs and noble-borne converse in jest, dro Vyarin,[/color][/i]" Sulhana said in formal Prozdy as she filled his empty cup with the same drink that she noticed he had been eyeing before. "[i][color=a2d39c]They speak with child's delight regarding a contest of who intakes the most Rotted Grape Essence[/color],[/i]" Then, Sulhana slowly translated into Astalian. "[i][color=a2d39c]Rotted Grape Essence[/color][/i], 'Wine' [color=a2d39c][i]in Astalian tongue[/i][/color]," She offered the cup to Vyarin as she smiled up at him. "[i][color=a2d39c]The Crown-Heir of Astalia has challenged the one from Jorda, and they wagered on who might triumph, and I believe they are respectfully enquiring whether you could be the...[/color][/i] judge," She paused for a while to recollect her knowledge of Prozdy from her spies. "Judge... [i][color=a2d39c]One who decides who is the victor[/color][/i]."

Sulhana breathed out then, observing the battle-hardened prince after being this close to him for the first time. After she took a spoonful of soup between her lips, Sulhana drank from her cup before turning to Vyarin once more. She glanced at the wraps at his head, just covering his left eye. She had heard of what had happened, and to an extent, her heart stung at the thought of such barbarism. How could a father send away his son to find a bride as the price for returning home? He was injured and unprepared for such court intricacies. Did this man ever feel warmth in his entire life?

[i]"[color=a2d39c]Many voices have spoken into my ears in praise of your strength, dro,[/color][/i]" The princess began after she wiped a fleck of soup from the corner of her mouth. "[color=a2d39c][i]However, I ask for your forgiveness if I am to display rudeness to you, Vyarin, but I am consumed with query,[/i][/color]" She said with a tilt of her head as she faced him. "[color=a2d39c][i]The eye on your left,[/i][/color]" She said. "[color=a2d39c][i]Does hurt still torment it from within after all this time? Pain?[/i][/color]"