Peace Treaty

The borders of Solyria loomed ahead, just north of the majestic Nurian Woods, where Noori's army had made camp. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the snow-covered landscape, Noori, resplendent in her ornate armor adorned with the emblem of Nuria, mounted her steed with grace and authority.

Addressing her troops with a commanding presence, Noori's voice rang out like a clarion call, carrying across the assembled soldiers with unwavering conviction. Her words, imbued with the wisdom of a seasoned leader and the fervor of unwavering loyalty, stirred the hearts of her men.

"As per the decree of the Great Emperor of Nuria, we march through the borders of Solyria," she proclaimed, her voice echoing through the forest with a commanding clarity. Each word, delivered with the weight of responsibility and the fire of determination, instilled confidence in the hearts of her soldiers.

Mounted atop her noble steed, Noori radiated an aura of strength and resilience, her armor gleaming in the dappled sunlight as she surveyed her troops with pride. With each movement, she exuded the poise and grace of a born leader, her every gesture infused with purpose and resolve.

"I am certain that my father, the Emperor, has carefully considered his actions," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the faces of her soldiers, each one a testament to their unwavering loyalty. "We must trust in him and obey his commands," she declared, her voice unwavering in its conviction.

As the soldiers echoed their allegiance with fervent cries of "All hail the Emperor!" Noori's eyes shone with pride, her unwavering resolve reflected in the steel of her gaze. With a nod of approval, she spurred her horse forward,the men that were being left behind, 

 the troops remaining at the foot of the camp, Noori's voice softened, yet retained its commanding authority. "Do not lose heart, my brothers," she reassured them, her words a balm to their spirits. "I have not abandoned you," she declared, her voice carrying across the clearing with the strength of a mighty river.

"It is the Emperor's decree that I take only a few of you along," she explained, her tone filled with understanding and compassion. "But in times of need, you will be the first I call upon," she promised, her words a beacon of hope in the face of uncertainty.

As the troops responded with resounding cheers of "Long live the General!" Noori's heart swelled with pride, her every action a testament to her unwavering commitment to her people and her nation. With a final nod of assurance, she spurred her horse forward, leading her troops with unwavering resolve towards their destiny.

The Osaris Palace bustled with unusual activity as servants scurried about, diligently preparing for the arrival of the new bride. Under Azorius's strict orders, the grand halls were scrubbed clean, their stony floors gleaming with a newfound luster. In the gardens, servants wielded their elemental powers with finesse, sculpting intricate snow sculptures that adorned the palace grounds with ethereal beauty.

Amidst the flurry of activity, two maids whispered amongst themselves as they carried fresh linens to the prince's chamber.

"Is it true that the Queen agreed to this marriage?" one maid murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"I'm not entirely certain, but the maids from the main Palace did mention that the queen refused to meet with the king," the other maid replied, her tone hushed with secrecy. "It seems she is not pleased with the match. And can you blame her? An unknown Nurian bride, and a commoner at that? Is it fitting for someone like her to marry our crown prince?" Bree spoke. 

The first maid Suli sighed, her expression conflicted. "I suppose you're right, but... considering the state of the Crown Prince, does it truly matter who the bride is? It's a shame that she's being married off to a prince who lies in a vegetative state."

Her companion frowned, her disapproval evident. "Hush, you fool! If anyone were to hear such words, your tongue would surely be ripped out!" she scolded, though it was clear her admonishments fell on deaf ears. The first maid's sentiments remained unchanged, a testament to the lingering doubts and unease surrounding the impending marriage.

Bree and Suli moved with practised ease through Dastan's room, their movements as light as whispers to avoid disturbing Dastan even though he wasn't going to wake up. With gentle precision, they arranged thick sheets and towels on a nearby chair, their actions a seamless ballet of efficiency.

As they approached the door leading to the personal bath, Suli glanced at the water-filled tub, its surface adorned with delicate floral petals. "Do you think the water is warm enough? Should we summon the bathing maids?" she inquired, her brow furrowed with uncertainty.

Bree considered for a moment before nodding. "I believe it's ready. We only need to light the candles," she replied, her voice calm and assured.

"What about the other bath? The bride will be arriving soon. I heard they crossed the Solyrian border yesterday, so they may not be far behind," Suli remarked, her curiosity piqued.

Bree's response was tinged with indifference. "Why should we concern ourselves with that? Let her attendants handle her," she remarked dismissively, her focus solely on the task at hand.

Suli's eyes sparkled with fascination. "I wish I were assigned to attend to the bride. I've heard tales of the beauty of Nurian women from my mother. It would be a sight to behold," she mused dreamily, her voice filled with longing.

Bree's expression hardened at Suli's words. "You must be the only Solyrian who speaks with such admiration. Have you forgotten the atrocities they've committed against our country?" she chided, her tone laced with disapproval.

Suli's enthusiasm deflated at Bree's rebuke, her shoulders slumping dejectedly. With a resigned sigh, she muttered under her breath, "What does that have to do with the bride? You're all such haters," before turning away, to leave. 

As the caravan bearing Noori and her troops approached the city gates, a palpable sense of dread hung in the air, casting a shadow over the once bustling streets. The sight of soldiers clad in silver and red armour, the colours of their sworn enemy, sent a shiver down the spines of the city's inhabitants.

Led by the infamous Noori Azar Solana, known throughout the land as the bloodthirsty monster of Nuria, their arrival was met with apprehension and fear. This was not the welcome anyone had anticipated for the bride from the Nurian empire.

The gates creaked open reluctantly upon their arrival, a begrudging acknowledgment of their presence. Noori's steely gaze swept over the archers stationed on the tower, their disdain evident in their piercing stares. It was a reflection of how they viewed her and her people – with contempt and scorn.

Every eye in the city seemed to be upon her as she rode through the streets, the shops closing their doors in silent protest. The troops followed behind her, their banners held high in defiance, exuding an air of confidence and authority.

Despite the hateful looks directed her way, Noori remained undaunted. With a disdainful click of her tongue, she uttered a scornful remark. "Low lives," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt for those who dared to judge her.