Feuer’s bedroom was far larger than any commoner would have. Even compared to the entirety of most homes it would have been decent size. Though, it was still far smaller than her sisters or her parents. Which made sense to her, all things considered after all she wasn’t really important. It wasn't like she needed or wanted much in the first place. A knight should live a Spartan life, ready to move on a moment's notice. The space was also on the 3rd floor of the keep, a floor reserved for distinguished guests of, modest importance. Unlike the 2nd floor where only other high-ranking nobles would be allowed to stay. Still, at least the 3rd floor had running water, the 4th certainly didn’t. That floor was reserved for all other… guests. People who needed to appear important, but in truth weren't.

Her room was fairly empty, it wasn't that she had been forgotten about it, it was just how she liked it. She'd use the word 'Spartan' to describe it all, an old word that sounded simple, and strong, like she envisioned herself. A large circular rug sat in the center of the otherwise stone space. A fireplace, that was a tad too small for the room, stood against the wall with windows. Her bed was larger than most in the world, but for a noble was still a bit small. A bookshelf stood not far from the bed, like the room it was also fairly empty, with only a small handful of well-read books. She had two dressers; one she used often with every day common wear. The other was much larger and contained most of her formal wear that she hated putting on it. It was also the one currently in use.

Standing around her was her father Beeson, her sister Lueismar and strangely her grandmother, Fuhen. Feuer was not expecting to see in her modest quarters. In fact, it might have been the first time she had ever visited her room. Normally she was too busy at this time of day to do anything but be in court. It was clear she must have thought this was important. Fuhen was the matriarch of the family, second in line was her father, and then her older sister, Virume who was not here. She was probably too busy learning and running some part of the family’s business today.

It was Just how the births turned out, the eldest was always the one slated to run the family, unless they abdicated, like her older brother had. He left to go become a knight. A fact that made Feuer quite envious.

Her grandmother didn't look particularly pleased to be there, but then again, she always had that look on her face. The old matriarch knew her time was nearing and didn't want to deal with the trivialities around her life any more anymore. She was older, about 72 now her once luxurious brown hair had turn mostly gray and was even more fragile than Feuer's. The wrinkles across her face showed a long life of stress caused by running the Vallhorn family and businesses, but those deep brown eyes still showed a strong spark of life and intellect. Her body may have slowed but her mind certainly had not.

A few servants moved between the taller dresser and Feuer, as they attempted to put her in a dress that was far too large and poufy for her taste. Overseeing them all was the rather odd human tailor the family employed who went by the name of Abstent. A so-called Ice Skin human from the north, he was very pale with silver hair that he kept swept back and ice blue eyes. He was occasionally known to wear makeup and color his hair, it always seemed odd to Feuer that someone would spend so much time on something frivolous. But, she could admit it wasn't like he was ever dressed badly. Some might have even seen him as handsome, not Feuer though. At least, not that she would admit.

They had insisted on wiping her down in her room, rather than allowing her to attend to the baths. It was embarrassing to say the least. Perhaps they were afraid she’d escape from one of the windows or something. That was the kind of thing a rat would do, not a fine and noble knight like she thought herself. Besides, she already knew those windows were too small for that, unlike the one in her room. At least her father wasn't present for the wipe down.

The worse part of it all was her hair. It wasn't that she didn't wash it, but she never really paid too much attention to it. Without any added oils it tended to dry out and get frizzy, as well as being fragile. Their solution was to soak her hair in some kind of sweet-smelling oil, that made her feel like a cheap dessert from the lower markets.

“Why doesn’t Lueismar have to get married, why does it have to be me.” Feuer’s voice was between a pout and snarl.

Her grandmother quickly rebuked her, “Your sister is currently second in line to lead the family. You would have been third, but to be blunt about it, one of your cousins will likely see the throne before you.” She was rough and direct. It was one of the things Feuer like about her, you never had to worry about where you stood with her. She’d let you know. That said, it wasn’t like Feuer even wanted to be head of the family. Still actually hearing it come from her grandmother, kind of hurt somehow. Like there was some amount disappointment behind it.

She shook it off and returned to her question, "But why? Why do we have to go through this at all? We’re already powerful."

Beeson tried to keep his composure, but his daughter was starting to pull at his last threads. "Feuer. You're the daughter of a lord, that means something. You have-"

Fuhen put her hand up, interrupted her son, "It is the goal of this family to one day move from minor nobility and lords to become actual barons and rulers. To do that we need connections and allies. Feuer, your marriage will cement an important connection with…” Fhuen took a large breath, as if she didn’t want to say it, “The Toosanaci. Who have several modest but successful farms, and a large number of soldiers under them."

Feuer had to back down a bit, she trusted Fuhen too much to fight her. But, this was her life, why couldn't she have had some say in it?

An errant pin prick caused her to wince and nearly growl at the staff putting her into this monstrosity of a dress. The dress was almost entirely white, but with amber frilling along the arms, and a green frill near the upper part of her chest. The colors were important, seeing how they were the house colors. That green part would have been much more noticeable had they forced her into that demonic trapping they called a corset.

“It will push everything up!” The tailor tried to explain, but unlike her sisters, there wasn’t anything to push up. It was just uncomfortable and made it hard for her to breathe. Again, a problem her sisters and mother didn’t seem to have while wearing one. She was thankful her father stepped in and said it was unnecessary. Since they clearly weren’t going to listen to her.

Despite the work and shear cost of the ball dress, she couldn’t stand the way it looked. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have liked any dress. They were all so confined, and she hated them with a passion. Pants were what people who used a sword would wear, that’s what she wanted to wear too. Occasionally, a short dress would be acceptable, but this gaudy and gargantuan bell felt like a prison of cloth and unnecessary fluff. She doubted if she could even sit in this thing.

"It's the first time I even heard of the Toosanaci. Are they really that powerful?" Like a wolf pup against the pack leader, the anger in Feuer’s voice was tempered with a slight whimper of surrender and compliance.

"They are the most powerful option available. You haven't made it easy Feuer. Your grandfather…” Fuhen closed her eyes and shook her head, “Worked hard to arrange this. Sadly, we can no longer ask his wisdom on this." There was something between sadness and relief in her voice. Feuer never had much of a chance to interact with her grandfather, he tended to disappear on what he called 'quests' and never had much time for her. But from what she could remember he was always bumbling about. Nice and kind, in his own way, but clearly a part of his mind had deteriorated even when she was born eleven years ago. He had passed this past winter from some illness. The family’s mages and healers couldn’t save him. All things considered; it was probably for the best.

From what she would later gather he had gone around all of them to arrange this, and without telling them. Why, only he would have known for sure.

"I know you're not happy about this, sister. But, I would truly love to be in your place.” Lueismar’s eyes glimmered with tears of both happiness and sorrow as she both empathized and envied her younger sister.

“I’m happy to trade places with Lueismar, I’m sure she would make-“ Feuer wasn’t able to finish.

“No.” Her grandmother’s voice was flat, but still loud. Even as a joke, she wasn’t about to let Feuer entertain these thoughts.

Her grandmother continued, "Now, Feuer. You will not hit this boy. You will not speak ill of this boy. You will attend court today, and you will attend the official engagement celebration in two weeks. These are not optional. Do you know what will happen if you don't?"

“Yes, I know.” Feuer didn't know for sure. But, she could guess, a mixture of the dungeon and being kept from sword training for a few days.

Shaking her head, her grandmother couldn’t sigh at her spirited granddaughter. “Well, what ever you’re thinking right now, I promise it will be worse this time.”

Despite the subtle smile on Fuhen’s face, the Matriarch was not joking. She might have liked her younger granddaughter, she very well might have even been her favorite, though she’d never say that. But, there were lines she couldn’t cross for any of her family. The truth was, Feuer had been a constant stream of problems for the family, even if some of them weren’t intentional, and even if she might have a point for others.

"I think we're done!" The human tailor clapped his hands and looked over his work in pride.

Lueismar smile broadly at her sister. “I think it looks lovely.” Again, her sweet voice stuck to Feuer and made it feel as if the fabric itself was now sticking to her. Probably because it was in someplace. There was just so much, the whole dress had to weigh double what her training armor did, and that had weighted sand bags in it.

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“There’s enough fabric on me to cloth half the city. Consider the orphans we could have given new cloths and blankets too.” Feuer snarked.

Her joke fell flat with the room, who all began to leave after the spectacle of dressing her was now done.

“Come along Feuer.” Her father called out as she stood in place.

There was a problem with that though, “I can’t even move…” She complained, as her legs felt trapped and tangled.

“Stop being silly, sister come along.” Lueismar smiled and waved her sister forward.

“I’m not kidding Lueismar, how the hell do you walk in these things? This is worse than the dress you made me wear for my birthday.”

“But it was so pretty on you! I like this one.” Lueismar stood behind her sister as she gently pushed her forward.

Each step Feuer moved, felt more like a pivot from foot to foot. As Feuer waddled down the hallway, the subtle stares and mummers added to the weight of the dress she wore. Feuer’s face grew red, a mixture of both embarrassment and anger. Mostly anger.

By far the stairs were the hardest part of it all. The large open bell made everyone of her steps feel indecent. This was absolutely ridiculous. All show, and form no utility and if anything, negative function. The only thing more absurd was the actual room they were about to enter.

The throne room was heavily covered in pale twilight, which seemed all the thicker today, like her own clothing. A stream of bright light hit the throne, along some nearby seats next to it and a small section of carpet. Not done with magic, rather they were lit with carefully placed mirrors and windows. It was all very showy. Feuer hated being in this room. It was all so pointless, a show of force and intimidation. All appearance, and no real function. Sure, there might be value in the soft power which was projected. But that was boring, and she didn’t care.

Feuer’s family put themselves to either side of the throne. Their placements were purposeful. Her mother, Sneacta, was already sitting in the space to the left of the throne. With her grandmother and father indisposed with her dress, running the court was likely left to her mother. Which was unusual, but not unheard of. From the few times she had talked about it, her mother did enjoy the process, but she found most of her time was spent behind the scenes.

Despite being of house Vallhorn through marriage, many would still see her as part of her birth family, the Navforins. It was thought unwise to have her sit on the throne if there were other choices, even though she had never done anything to warrant such suspicion.

Feuer’s eldest sister Virume wasn’t present here either. But, that was common enough anymore. Despite being next in line to lead the family, after their father, Virume was often out of the castle keep. Both her grandmother and father tasked the future matriarch with learning to run the larger family business, like their father had.

Despite running the city of Trillonia, they were also owners of the silver mines just outside the city walls. Along with some larger shipping lines between this city and the neighboring ones, and various other smaller and even some larger, ventures. Technically, most of the farms or at least their land outside the city were owned by the family as well, but for reasons Feuer didn’t understand, the family declined to collect taxes from them. Something about loyalty and the pittance not worth the cost of collecting. Again, something Virume was learning all this and would probably understand.

Feuer was just seen as, too dumb to even try and explain it. She often wondered if they were right.

A light head nod and neutral smile was all her mother would give her as Feuer approached the right side of the throne. It wasn’t that she hated her daughter, Feuer knew that. Or, at least she thought she knew it. It was just the way nobles and aristocrats did things. Barren like the desert outside, only instead of the heat, there was cold.

Her body twitched, and the laces in her back dress felt a little too tight. Then there were her legs which felt caught in the lose fabric of the dress. A paradoxical feeling like they would just fall off while also strangling her. She hated dresses and formal attire. It was the other reason she hated this space; they wouldn't let her in it unless she wore nonsense like this, and occasionally they didn't give her a choice not to show up. Like today.

Perhaps sensing her daughter’s discomfort her mother gave Feuer a rare bit of encouragement, “You look quite lovely Feuer, now stand proud and stop fidgeting.”

It wasn’t what she was looking to hear. But it was nice to be acknowledged by her mother regardless. Feuer had a complicated relationship with her mother. When she was much younger, her mother was frequently ill. She knew even back then that her birth had done something to her mother, hurting her in some way. People would occasionally say to Sneacta that it was a miracle they survived such a challenging birth.

Of course no one said that to Feuer’s face, but the whispers behind Feuer’s back and to her mother’s face, she still heard them from time to time. One of the first things Feuer had done in life, was to hurt her own mother. Even if her mother tried to suppress it, there was always this feeling in the back of Feuer’s mind that, maybe it would have been better to just never have been born. It was hard not to see that feeling in her mother’s actions towards her, even if she tried to hide it.

Even now, her mother said nothing more. Barely looking in her direction. Some of it might have just been pretense, a show for the various petitioners and foreign visitors. But still, it was hard not to feel cold being around her, even in the desert heat Feuer wanted to grab her arms for warmth.

The few moments of silence with her mother ended once the rest of her family entered. Her father and sister both moved quickly, each taking a position on the right side of the throne.

Fuhen on the other hand, walked with a slow plodding pace towards the throne. It was hard to tell if her slow pace was one of those power games nobles would play with each other, or if it was just due to her age. As the old matriarch finally took her seat, she nodded to someone standing in the darkness. The dark elf, barely visible in the shadows bowed and moved with speed out of the throne room.

A moment later, he returned moving with a similar pace as he had a moment ago. On the bright lit carpet between the twilight, the dark elf Hippall walked quickly in front of a man towards the larger lit section of the carpet. The spot was one where petitioners might stand when addressing the court. If one was generous about the man, they might have called him young, but he was certainly no child. His outfit was, puffy, it was hard to tell if that was because of his weight, which was clearly significant, or an equally poor garment choice like her own dress. Oddest of his garments though was the dark and oversized cape that dragged behind him. While a cape might have made sense in cooler or inclement weather, in the desert, it made little sense, just adding to the extra heat and layers.

Hippall stopped in the larger square of light, waiting for the overweight and slower man to make his lumbering way forward. It was clear this man wasn’t used to moving so quickly.

"Announcing the arrival of Biadh Toosanaci of house Toosanaci." With that, Hippall faded away back into the shadows.

Feuer was finally able to get a good look at Biadh Toosanaci. She knew he was older than her, but he was almost 10 years older maybe 20 or 21. He was also overweight, but not so fat that he couldn't walk at least. Pudgy might be the best word. His blond hair and blue eyes might have seemed regal on anyone else. On him though, the wide open and sky blue color just made his head look empty, and his blond hair more like poor quality gold leaf on top of cheaper clay. There was something undeniably disgusting about him.

"Come, come. You don't have to stand down there." Fuhen encourage the young man to come closer to the court. It was unusual, but common enough for equals or at least near equals.

Feuer struggled to smile as he walked up to her. His smile felt fake, even more than the one she was faking.

“I believe you are my betrothed, Feuer?” He asked.

Feuer looked between her family for help and guidance, but all they did was nod to her. Her grandmother in particular seemed to have an exacerbated look, she wanted this to be done. This wasn’t the first time she had met a suiter, but things were different this time.

With an uncomfortable smile, Feuer attempted to introduce herself, "Good afternoon, sir Biadh Toosanaci. I am-" She took a breath and dropped the smile; it was too much work. "I'm Feuer, I hope we can get along well."

"I'm sure we will, my beloved." He reached his hand out, as if expecting hers in return.

It took all the effort she could muster to genteelly hold her hand out, and not just ball it into a fist. When his lips touched the skin of her hand she couldn't help but feel how chapped and moist they were. It was one of the most disgusting sensations she ever felt. A slight breeze whiffed something unpleasant from under his cape and she had to force down what was left of her breakfast. Pulling her hand away, she tried desperately to wipe the dampness on the back of her hand, but it seemed to stick and linger.

Sensing things might quickly turn as sour as the man’s smell, Fuhen clapped her hands and smiled. “Well, introductions out of the way. I’m sure Biadh would like to shower and change before dinner tonight. Hippel will be happy to show you to your room.”

As the man turned and left with his entourage, the family collectively deflated with a sigh of relief. Well, except for Feuer who found herself still holding her breath. Only to let it out with an exacerbated huff.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Fuhen chided her from the throne.

Feuer’s cheek’s warmed as her head dropped in embarrassment. “You barely smelled him.” She whispered under her breath.

The family quickly disbursed, leaving Fuhen to stay on the throne and manage the remaining petitioners for the day. Feuer was forced to waddle from the throne room, each swizzle of her legs causing a further build up of redness in her face. She wanted out of this cloth cage, every step drove her further towards just ripping it off. All that work for less than five minutes of show.

But, it was her struggles with the steps that caused her to scream. The fabric caught in her legs as the bindings kept her legs from moving quickly enough. Slipping on the fabric she cursed, just added insult to the injury she was about to feel as she fell face first straight towards the hard wooden steps.

A firm hand and strong arm caught her mid fall.

“Miss, do you need some help?” The man was one of the many guards in the castle. She didn’t know his name, even if she had seen him before.

Her cheeks grew blushed with warmth as she steadied herself on that top step.

“No, I'm fine.” She brushed the fabric, trying to do something with it. “Thank you.” She whispered as an afterthought as she continued her way to her room.

As soon as the heavy door to her room closed she began to pull off the garment. It took less than a minute to rip the dress off that took nearly an hour to put on. Glaring at the pile of cloth on her floor, she kicked at the fabric, making a point to stamp on it for good measure.

A subtle knock at her door, for a moment she both feared and wanted someone to barge in. Feared because she wasn’t decent. Wanted, because it would have been an excuse to punch someone and let out some of this anger she felt.

The knocker was wise enough not to enter, speaking though the door instead. It sounded like Hippall. “Feuer, I do hope you haven’t damaged that dress. Your Grandmother and Father have requested you wear it to dinner.”

A sudden click at the door, made her anger fade as fear rose up. “No, no, no!” She pleaded and ran to the door to pull at it.

“I hope you understand, young miss, your family doesn’t want you running off. I’ll be back up in a few hours to let you out for dinner.” With another scream, she kicked at the door.

“Please don’t break the door again. A guard will be posted if you need anything and the cells are an option if needed.” From her side of the door, she could hear Hippall walk away down the hallway outside. His already quite steps fading to nothing. For good measure, she kicked at the door once more.

Like most of her life, she found herself back in her own gilded cage. What was she supposed to do? Looking around, a calm thought crossed her otherwise rage filled mind as she stared at the window. She knew it was a bad idea; this was the 3rd floor. “The rat manages to do it.” She whispered to herself.

Opening the window Feuer looked down at the ground that was a good 15 meters down. This was a horrible idea. She was going to do it anyway. She just needed to get dressed in something more proper. For her at least.