She was young.
She wore a cloak about her body and head as she rode sidesaddle on her way to meet her destiny. She rode a petite white mare that was going at a quick walking step for her. A sheer veil covered her face, hiding much of her features from the world.
A soft breeze blew and made the cloth above her whip a little and she sighed. It was real. All real.
She was seventeen and soon would be the bride of Crown Prince Balinor Buckhannah to unify the Westerlands and the great land of Callahorn. He was handsome, but twenty years her senior. He was a seasoned warrior, but was kind to her.
Her father Eventine had wanted a good match for his child. He was young at 30 to have lost his young beautiful wife. He wanted very much to keep his child near him, but she was independent like her mother and he could not keep her with him forever. When Ruhl was looking for a match for his elder son, Eventine was quick to suggest his lovely daughter. The marriage made sence to both countries and so it was. The lovely young Princess to the elves who was not yet a woman was to become the bride of a much older man to insure peace.
They were approaching Trysis. The huge city started as a dot on the horizon and soon became large and imposing. She was used to her heavily wooded Westerland and so much stone made her nervous. She looked for trees and found little about the city that had never fallen. She wanted to start gardens. The dark guarded city of men needed life.
She looked up as people started to pour petals from the battlements. They caught the wind and she could smell the delicate scent as the townsfolk made ready to welcome their princess.
