Month I Week I Day I
I had dreams last night, horrible dreams of death, destruction, and plague. In these dreams I saw skeletons lying in shambles. Is this a sign of a power? Shadows danced at the edge of my vision, taunting me. Strange whispers assaulted my hearing, peircing me with fear. My head swam. Then I heard a scream and a skull suddenly filled my vision.
Valeska's eyes shot open in panic. Her body was coated with a cold sweat. The furs she was under felt heavy and oppressive. She threw them off, exposing her naked body to the cold air of Castle Whitestone. She walked across the room and looked out of the arrow slit that served as her window. Unlike some castles, Castle Whitestone was built purely for defense, not luxury. There was no cover over the arrow slit, and few carpets on the stone floor. Her bed was small, only big enough for herself. A constant stream of warm, summer, morning air warmed her bare chest and she sighed.
"That was the second nightmare in a week." Valeska reached beside the opening to the outside world and wrapped a deep green claok around herself. A second later, her servants opened the door to her bedroom. They started getting her armor and clothing prepared for the day. Despite the peace her country has had, she still encouraged wearing armor every day.
"Good you're awake." A tall man strode in. His long, black cloak swept around him when he stopped. His black chainmail jingled. Lord Haart was Valeska's advisor, but not entirely by choice. She looked the man over, adding together the things she disliked about him. He wore relatively good armor for every day wear, but extremely heavy plate mail when going to battle. His chainmail hung from his body like a dress, but then, it was supposed to. The hauberk was made of a blackened steel that hung down to his knees, with black dyed leather beneath it. His flowing cloak was an inky black. He wore dark brown knee high boots, covered with yet more black armor. He had black hair that looked extremely greasy, as if it hadn't been washed in years. He always smelled like metal, even if he had just washed and hadn't put his armor on in several days. It even overpowered the leather smell his clothing would sometimes give off. His teeth seemed to be worn, even though every dentist in the coty surrounding Whitestone praise his teeth. His breath was about the only thing that wasn't repulsive about him. It always smelled like peppermint, which grew by the gates of the castle. His skin had a sheen of sweat over it, even in the cold of winter. Valeska hated the man, but she needs his differing points of view. She could see how twisted his mind was through his eyes. Hate, and bloodlust resided in them, even now, she could see his eyes cloud over with desire when he saw she only had a cloak covering herself.
"I'm here to talk about your plans again, Mi'lady."
Valeska moved behind a screen that a servant unfolded and dropped the cloak, "What do you want to discuss, Lord Haart?" She pulled on some clothes and she asked a servant to assist her with her armor.
"I seriously think we should build up our army before we focus on building up the city. After all, Mi'lady, we can't protect the city without a proper defensive force." Lord Haart waited patiently while Valeska got ready for the day.
Finally, Valeska reentered Lord Haart's view, "I told you yesterday when you brought this up, we need a stronger economy before we can build up the army. We are in no present danger of attack, so I don't want a large standing army yet." Valeska strapped her sword to her leather belt. Her armor clinked as she let the sword swing freely. She enjoyed the feeling of the reassuring weight of the weapon on her belt. Her armor was heavy, but she was used to it. She wore brightly polished chainmail under an equally polished breastplate. Spaulders draped around her upper arm and vambraced adorned her forearms. She wore a series of articulated plates around her thighs with her chainmail swinging underneath it, falling sown to her knees. The final peices of armor went around her shins. Overall, she looked stunningly bright. She picked up her shield, while she silently cursed Lord Haart. She loved that shield, her teardrop. It was a lighter shield, light enough to fight on foot with, but heavy enough to joust with. It offered the ideal protection she liked and it was a symbol for her, a symbol of all of the tears she can't let fall.
"Do you wish me to prepare your horse, milady?" A servant bowed.
"Yes, I plan on traveling today." She handed the young man her shield and he exited the room.
"But Lady Valeska, if you would see reason-"
"No! You need to see reason!" Valeska stopped him, "I didn't want you around, and I never did, but my father told me to keep you as an advisor when he died, and I'll admit, you're views are useful sometimes. I will not expose my kingdom to bankruptcy because we didn't build our city before our army!" Valeska paused for breath, then she sighed, "Many other countries might think we are trying to start a war if we just build our army. Not only that, but not many countries would want to lend us the money to build our army. We cannot afford the army right now."
Lord Haart looked away from her steely gaze.
"I will meet you by the tavern in an hour."
Lord Haart's form and gaze filled with anger. He stiffly bowed and left the room.
"You shouldn't do that, milady." One of Valeska's most trusted servants scolded her, "One day he will snap, and all of the skill in the world will not be able to stop him from getting what he wants." The old servant chuckled. She was fifty years old, and she served as a wetnurse for Valeska's family since losing her firstborn child, ten years before Valeska was even born. Valeska's mother died bringing her into the world and so, the king gave the newborn princess to Rosie, the old wetnurse, to play the role of mother for Valeska.