A Betrayal of Faith ✔

TWO: The Princess

Princess Sharina Ashur Nishinaron of Minisia was bored. All day, she had sat in the carriage and all day she had done nothing. Her father had told her many stories about the people in the towns on the border between Minisia and Brenmar, but when they'd crossed earlier that morning, it had been in silence.

All her life she had heard that those on the border were rough people, unafraid to rob and kill and injure. Since the Frost, as her people called it, they had only gotten worse. It was hardly their fault. What other reaction could they possibly have to two armies lining up on the border and doing nothing more than hurling insults at one another? Even a silent war could change people, change countries.

From what she had been told by her advisors, the people of Brenmar, the Ishini, didn't have a name for the Frost. It was just an event that happened and caused other events to occur. How they didn't have a name for it, she did not know, but she supposed the Frost had not been so devastating for the Ishini.

She had only been a child back then, only nine years old. She barely remembered it, but the cold had always stuck with her. The cold and the fear on her parents' faces. Fear of what exactly, she hadn't learned until much later, but by then, things between the Ishini and the Askari had changed for the worse.

They were to blame, of course, the Ishini. They were the ones who had ignored Minisia's struggle. Retaliation should have been expected. What no one had expected was a war that never truly came into being, but had been a threat for almost ten years.

At least now, there would never be a war. King Harudan of Brenmar wanted a treaty and she would sign it in her father's place. Then, if everything went to plan, both countries would be at peace. There would be no war in Vishera and maybe the border towns could go back to the way they were. Everything could go back to the way it was.

Her advisor sat across from her in the carriage, a balding man with a habit of falling asleep the second he sat down. He was as much of a bore as the rest of her trip. She wanted to get to Ishmar, sign the treaty, and go home. The trip had taken far too long as it was.

Before she could even get to Ishmar, there would be a night spent at one of the holy lands of the Old Gods. She followed the New Gods, but her father had instructed her that making peace with the Ishini also included making peace with those who followed the Old Gods, both in Minisia and Brenmar.

The fact that after so long, people still followed the Old Gods, was astounding to her. The New Gods had come along centuries ago, proving the Old Gods false. But still, people believed, enough people for a holy land in each country. The Ishini and the Askari may have been named for the Old Gods from which they took their powers, but the Gods themselves were as unimportant to Vishera as the dirt road her carriage travelled upon.

She'd grown bored of looking out of the tiny carriage window and settled instead for closing her eyes and listening to the sounds around her. The guards outside talked quietly to each other, their conversation was barely audible over the sound of the wind and the horse's hoofs against the dirt. Her advisors snores added to the mix, distracting her and ruining her focus.

She sighed and opened her eyes as the carriage went over one of many bumps on the uncared-for road. "Five more minutes, your Highness!" one of the guards outside called. She nearly cheered in relief, grateful to be finally climbing out of the cramped carriage.

The view from the window caused her to frown. When she had been told she would be going to a holy land, she had expected something extravagant. Castles and statues and pillars. Instead, all she saw was ruins and a few wooden homes dotted between them. How little did Brenmar care for their Old Gods? At least in Minisia, they showed them respect and gave them a holy land fit to live in.