Whispers Of Duty

Lady Sania of House Gareh lived a life consumed by the pursuit of perfection. Her entire world orbited around the expectation that, as a girl, her primary purpose was to secure a suitable husband capable of elevating her family's influence. To her, the concept was vastly underrated; girls often emerged as heroes, bravely entering battles to earn honor. There were tales of a southern lady just recently, whose clan succumbed to a mean and larger force. Yet, as a girl, she pivoted and reclaimed what was rightfully hers from the start. Her valor garnered respect from all corners of the realm.

Sania harbored a lifelong desire to enlist in an army, including the one her father initiated as a contingency, should the north fail to uphold the protection they had faithfully provided for the past century. Her father remained obstinate, dismissing the notion that a girl could be anything other than the lady of a House. Sania, however, constantly yearned for a different fate, often wishing she were not born into high nobility.

Despite her father's rigid expectations, Sania's spirit refused to be confined within the traditional roles expected of a high-born lady. Secretly, she immersed herself in tales of daring heroines and legendary warriors, finding solace in the notion that a girl could transcend societal norms.

The desire to join the army and contribute to the defense of her house and people burned brightly within her. She clandestinely practiced with weapons, honing her skills in the quiet corners of the estate. Yet, every attempt to express her aspirations to her father met with stern opposition, reinforcing the restrictive boundaries imposed upon her by birth.

As the weight of societal expectations pressed down on her, Sania grappled with the conflict between duty and personal conviction. The walls of privilege that surrounded her seemed insurmountable, but her heart remained steadfast in its yearning for a destiny beyond the confines of mere nobility.

A servant's voice echoed through the halls, bearing the message, "Your father requests your presence; he awaits in his study."

Sania, with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, made her way to her father's study. The heavy oak door creaked open as she entered the dimly lit room, adorned with shelves of ancient tomes and maps detailing the vast lands under House Gareh's dominion.

Her father, a stern figure seated behind a grand desk, looked up from a parchment he was studying. "Sania," he began, his gaze unwavering, "there are matters of importance that need to be discuss."

"But all of that would have to wait. For now, allow me to introduce you to Lord Khalji of House Hara, the heir to the Hara family," her father announced, gesturing toward a man standing a few paces away. He exuded regality in his northern attire, a silent proclamation of his importance.

"Lord Khalji, my daughter, Sania," her father continued, and the lord bowed in greeting, taking her hand and planting a firm kiss.

"It's an honor to meet you, my lady," he said.

"The honor is mine," she replied with a feigned, enthusiastic smile, concealing the complexities of emotions that swirled beneath the surface.

"Here you are!" Another man entered the study, adorned in the same Northern regalia, an armor adding a martial air. "Let's talk outside, Khalji."

The lord and his guard exited the study, with Khalji bowing and offering apologies.

As soon as the door closed behind them, her father dropped the bombshell. "He is your betrothal."

Sania's eyes widened in surprise as the weight of her father's words settled upon her. The revelation hung in the air, a palpable tension that enveloped the room.

"But, Father..." she began, searching for words to articulate the turmoil within her. The dreams of breaking free from traditional expectations shattered, replaced by the reality of an arranged union.

Her father, unmoved, continued, "Lord Khalji is a noble match, and this alliance will strengthen House Gareh. It is your duty to our family and our legacy."

"The North, Father, of all suitors?" she cried, a lone tear trailing down her face.

"Yes, the North. They are an influential family, holding the trade routes with the South, a region abundant in gold," her father stated, his eyes blank and empty. She had always hoped that her father would reveal a bit of emotion, but no - each time he married off a daughter, it felt as mechanical as handing over a goat.

As the reality of her impending union with Lord Khalji settled upon her, Sania couldn't shake the feeling of being a mere pawn in a strategic game of alliances. The tears that stained her cheeks were not just for her dashed dreams but for the realization that her father viewed these unions as transactions, devoid of the emotional nuances she longed for.

She wiped away the tear, summoning a strength from within. "Is there no consideration for what I desire, Father? Must I be traded like a commodity for the prosperity of House Gareh?"

Her father's expression remained stoic, unmoved by the turmoil in his daughter's voice. "The prosperity of the house is paramount, Sania. It is a duty that transcends personal wishes."

In that moment, the widening chasm between duty and desire became painfully apparent, and Sania grappled with the harsh truth that, in the realm of nobility, her aspirations and emotions were secondary to the grand tapestry of politics and power. House Gareh stood unwavering amidst the nobility of the realm, their influence anchored by vast riches and an extensive network of gold mines scattered across the region. Their influence anchored by vast riches and an extensive network of gold mines scattered across the region.

Their wealth, measured not just in gold but in the prosperity of their mines, painted House Gareh as a the richest among nobility. The glint of gold, both in the treasury and in the veins of the earth they owned, solidified their position as a linchpin in the region and the realm overall.

The richness of House Gareh wasn't merely a display of material wealth; it was a symbol of their enduring prominence in the realm's economic and political landscape. Yet, beneath the lustrous surface, Sania yearned for a wealth of a different kind - the richness of a life shaped by her own choices and aspirations.

This marriage, like countless others, unfolded as an arrangement shrouded in a mysterious agreement that eluded Sania's understanding. Her father orchestrated unions for all the girls reaching marriageable age, sending them to distant lands, stretching as far as the east. Whispers among the boys provided only fragments of insight, for the boys were as clueless as she.

Sania, the second daughter destined for the northern region, bore a simmering resentment towards the north-a land that had pilfered riches and men from the western clans. The northern territories, under the Nizar's rule, had extracted half of the west's wealth and conscripted half of its men. Lady Sania Gareh shared the collective hatred of the western clans for the north, a sentiment fueled by the plunder of their resources.

What exacerbated the bitterness was the misguided notion of northern superiority. The north, in their arrogance, believed themselves superior to the westerners, despite relying on the west for sustenance, clothing, and payment for services rendered. The irony was as glaring as the sun in the western sky, and it fueled Lady Sania's passionate disdain for the perceived superiority of the northern territories.

"Come on, Father, anyone but the north. I would marry whomever you desire, but not the north, please, Father," she pleaded earnestly.

Her father sighed, a weighty acknowledgment of the gravity of his decision. "I'll tell you something because I believe you're the only one who would understand. You're marrying Lord Khalji because I foresee a storm on the horizon-a powerful one. Yes, we are influential and noble, but that alone can't shield us from the north. You must have heard of Lady Safah Baldar of the Ta'isha clan. She is currently in the Ashraf court, discussing the possibility of an alliance-one that would unite the Ta'isha clan with the north. Remember, the south, richer in gold than any other region, sees our mines drying up. Soon, we won't be as valuable as the Ta'isha clan. We need the north; they are blessed with a formidable army," he explained, his gaze penetrating as he sought understanding in her eyes.

Lady Sania absorbed her father's words, the weight of responsibility settling upon her shoulders like an unwelcome cloak. The revelation of a looming storm and the necessity of the union with the north painted a stark picture of House Gareh's precarious position in the shifting tides of power.

"But Father," she questioned with a furrowed brow, "must our fate be entwined with the north, a region that has taken so much from us? Lady Safah's alliance could spell trouble, but is there no alternative path for House Gareh?"

Her father's gaze softened briefly, a hint of regret in his eyes. "Sania, my daughter, I wish it were different. The north, with its formidable army, provides a shield we cannot ignore. Our mines may be dwindling, but the north's strength is a necessary ally against the storm that approaches. It's a sacrifice for the survival of our house."

As the weight of duty collided with the desire for autonomy, Lady Sania grappled with the realization that her marriage to Lord Khalji was not merely a personal affair but a strategic maneuver in the broader game of survival for House Gareh.

She contemplated her house, recognizing its prominence as one of the most powerful in the entire west, second only to the ruling Nizar house. The Nizar, hailing from the Shuwa clan and belonging to House Dakir, stood as the singular force retaining a formidable army. House Dakir's principles were unwavering and deeply ingrained, rendering them the sole house in the west with the authority to command an army. Each clan in the west boasted its own Nizar, and with three prominent clans, the west theoretically had three Nizar. However, therein lay the predicament - the west was a patchwork of scattered individuals, each clan holding distinct ideologies and conceptualizations, making unity and cohesion elusive.

"What about the Dakir family? They still command an army and do whatever it takes to protect our clan," she asserted. "I would willingly marry a Dakir any day, Father."

"The Dakir are indeed doing their best, but their efforts alone won't safeguard all of us. If circumstances take a turn for the worse, they may prioritize their own survival."

She absorbed her father's somber words, a realization settling in that even the Dakir family, with their army and commitment, might not be an all-encompassing shield against the storm looming on the horizon.

"But Father," she implored, "must we yield to a fate that ties us to the north? Is there no other path, no alternative alliance that preserves our autonomy without sacrificing our principles?"

Her father's gaze softened, torn between paternal concern and the weight of the decisions he bore. "I wish there were alternatives. The north, with its formidable strength, offers a safeguard in uncertain times. We must tread carefully, for House Gareh's survival hinges on strategic choices, even if they demand difficult sacrifices."

She found herself bereft of words, realizing that every sentiment she expressed was met with a counterargument from her father. This marked the longest and most emotional conversation she had ever had with the man who held the reins of her family's destiny.

"I chose Khalji for a reason, dear," her father explained, breaking the heavy silence. "He is deeply in debt, and I can leverage that to our advantage. I plan to demand as many soldiers as I could from his house as your bridal price. In return, I will offer gold as your bridal gift."

She had often envisioned this day, but never had she imagined marrying a northerner-those as unpredictable as the griffins in the tales her nanny used to weave at bedtime. Creatures that devoured everything in their path.

"As you wish, Father," she curtsied, departing without waiting for his dismissal. The weight of his decision lingered, and as she opened the door, his voice trailed after her.

"Get ready; you will be wed before the end of the week." The realization struck Lady Sania with a sudden intensity. The whirlwind of emotions left her torn between duty and the desire for a life of her own choosing. As she retreated down the corridor, the weight of impending nuptials hung heavily over her.

In her chambers, surrounded by the opulence that bespoke the wealth of House Gareh, She grappled with the sacrifice demanded of her. The northerner, Lord Khalji, loomed in her thoughts like an enigma, a symbol of an alliance forged not in choice but in necessity.

A knock resounded, accompanied by her mother's voice-the Sheikha of House Gareh. The petite woman entered, trailed by her constant companion. Sania rose and curtsied respectfully.

"The Sheikh just informed me about Lord Khalji," her mother said, extending a warm hand. "I can't find the words to comfort you. I know you detest marrying a stranger, especially a northerner."

Tears welled up in Sania's eyes.

"Don't fret, my dear. Lord Khalji is a good man, and I know him personally. He will treat you better than you imagine. His parents are kind, and his first wife has been unwell for ages now."

The woman paused, a solemn expression crossing her features. "Poor thing, she is bewitched. His second wife died during childbirth, and the lord isn't blessed with more children. He has only one child."

On a positive note, the family dynamics appeared relatively uncomplicated-a single child, an ailing wife, and aging parents.

"The lord had four sisters, all of whom are already wed. You don't need to worry about any complexities, and you can visit anytime you wish. It's only a three-day ride from here to Saba."

She absorbed the details, finding a glimmer of reassurance in the simplicity of Lord Khalji's familial situation. Yet, the weight of leaving her home and venturing into the unknown still pressed heavily on her.

"Thank you, Mother. I appreciate your efforts to comfort me," She replied, her voice tinged with gratitude and resignation.

"I understand your apprehensions, my dear. Marriage is a profound change, especially when it comes with unfamiliar territories. But I have faith that you'll navigate this with grace." Her mother reached out, gently wiping away a tear from Sania's cheek.

"Where is Juhara? I haven't seen her for a while now," her mother inquired about Sania's maid and constant companion.

"Her father is sick; she went to visit him," Sania replied.

"Oh! And who allowed her to leave?"

"I did, Sheikha. She has been worried, so I let her go," Sania explained. She could now see why the Sheikha was concerned. In the wake of a spreading illness among commoners, the decision to let Juhara leave might have exposed her to potential risks.

A flicker of concern crossed her mother's face as she processed the information. "Sania, you should have considered the risks. With the prevailing illness among commoners, letting Juhara leave puts her at potential risk of exposure."

Sania's realization mirrored her mother's concern. "I hadn't thought about it that way. I only wanted to alleviate her worries about her father."

The Sheikha sighed, understanding the compassion behind Sania's decision. "While your heart is in the right place, my dear, we must be cautious. Illness knows no boundaries, and we must take extra precautions, especially with those close to us. Let's hope for Juhara's safety and a swift recovery for her father."

The Sheikha departed, leaving Sania alone with her thoughts. Tonight, her father would sign the marriage pact, and by the week's end, she would be wed and en route to the north. She would become one with the northerners, embodying the very existence she had always despised - becoming what she loathed the most.

As the weight of impending change settled upon her, Sania gazed out of the window, the familiar landscape of House Gareh seeming both comforting and confining. The northern winds whispered of an uncertain future, carrying with them the echoes of a life that would soon be left behind.

She contemplated the paradox of her fate - to be bound to a land she abhorred, wed to a man she barely knew, and forced into a role she had never imagined for herself. The impending union felt like a surrender to the currents of duty, a sacrifice of her identity at the altar of alliances and political maneuvering.

In the quiet of her chambers, Sania grappled with conflicting emotions, a storm raging within that mirrored the uncertainties that lay ahead. The echoes of her footsteps seemed to resonate with the ticking of the clock, each moment bringing her closer to a destiny she could neither evade nor fully embrace.

As the evening unfolded, the atmosphere in House Gareh grew somber. Servants moved with subdued efficiency, preparing for the pivotal moment when the marriage pact would be sealed. Sania, adorned in regal attire, stood at the threshold of her future, a future dictated by alliances and obligations.

The grand hall, adorned with the opulence of House Gareh, bore witness to the impending decision that would shape not only Sania's destiny but also the trajectory of her family's standing in the realm. The flickering candles cast shadows, dancing in rhythm with the tumultuous thoughts in Lady Sania's mind.

Her father, the architect of this strategic union, approached with the weight of responsibility etched on his face. The quill in his hand poised to sign the pact, sealing the fate of House Gareh.

Sania, standing at the intersection of duty and personal longing, braced herself for the inevitable. The echoes of the quill meeting parchment reverberated in the hall, marking the fin

al strokes of autonomy slipping through her fingers. The marriage pact, once a distant concept, now materialized into an irrevocable reality.