Follow Astana

With your guard placed in the quarters next to yours, only you and your guide remain. As you leave the army encampment, you find yourself hard-pressed to make small talk with Astana.

"Astana, was it?"

"Yes." She replies curtly in her rigid Northern accent.

This was most unusual to you. You were not used to this tone from others. Despite your indignation, you hold yourself and continue to try to poke for cracks in her stern demeanor.

"So, Astana, does a beautiful girl like you have anybody special waiting for them at home?"

"No. Unfortunately, my father does not want me marrying anybody beneath my social status. To that extent, the pool of candidates are limited to soft, weak men like yourselves." She replies quickly and defiantly, as if she expected you to think of her as a potential cock-sleeve. Clearly, she does not think very highly of you.