The Mystery of Gelmina

Vrasha hated coach journeys.

The young princess did not like the long roads, the boredom of sitting around, the juddering of the cabin back and forth as you went. Many noble ladies spent much of their time travelling in the most well adorned coaches but Vrasha had never much liked it. She much preferred to be riding herself, with her armour and her weapons at her side. A shield strapped to her back and feeling the wind rushing through her hair. She preferred to be leading, riding, fighting, doing _something _rather than just sitting around.

But it would not do for the royal princess of a great kingdom to come riding into the capital of her ally like some common soldier. So it was coaches. Coaches and escorts. Her armour was all the way back home and her weapons safely stowed away. Glumly, she looked down at the dress that she was wearing. It was long and silky and a sickeningly blue colour that she despised.

"I was a soldier," Vrasha muttered. "What the hell happened?"

But she knew what had happened. She had won. For two years the civil war had raged. Ever since the of her father and mother. Vrasha's brother - a man called Kanor - had probably been behind it though she would never know for sure. Kanor had been the eldest and the next in line, but he had seen, correctly, that their father had become old and set in his ways. Greedy to the last, the old king had wanted to conquer and enslave the surrounding lands. Plundering them for riches and resources to build an empire.

Kanor had moved against the old king and for a while it had seemed that he had done so for good reasons. But the army continued to expand, and soon enough more lands begin to fall under attack. Kanor, it seemed, did not disagree with his father's overall plans. He simply disagreed that his father was capable of accomplishing them.

So war had erupted between eldest son and eldest daughter and Vrasha had taught herself to fight, to lead and to win. For two long, bloody years they'd battled one another, locked in combat. Neither able to quite defeat their sibling. Then only a month ago, Vrasha had achieved a crushing victory with the help of the city-state of Gelmina. Kanor was dead or missing, his forces scattered and Vrasha was soon to take the crown.

Everything was good in the world and the people were happy to see the end of the war. But there was one thing that Vrasha had failed to account for.

After two years of hard fighting she did not know how to be a princess anymore. She was a soldier, a fighter, a leader. She didn't do what a princess was supposed to do. She argued with her advisers, she had her own opinions and would voice them openly. She was an active participant in local politics. In short, having fought and bled for her kingdom, Vrasha was not able to meekly fade into the background and accept that her role now was to marry a king and produce an heir.

They called her Vrasha the Windblade. Vrasha, the Mage-Killer. On the battlefield, she'd earned praise form allies and terror from foes. She'd known exactly what she was doing but now she felt as though she'd been pitched into a whole new world but it was worse than just that. She still remembered when it had been all she had ever known. That meek princess who was content to sit in the background had existed once, but she had drowned in blood and sorrow and pain.

Now she was the Windblade. Now she was the Princess of the Battlefield.

She was Vrasha and she refused to allow another terror like the reign of her father or brother to befall her people again.

But she was also the ruler of a burned, broken kingdom which had suffered war and was surrounded by other kingdoms who did not have many reasons to like them. Vrasha was very well aware that there was every chance worse was to come if she made even a single mistake.

That was why she had undertaken the hated coach journey, and why she was now making her way to the very city which had helped to decide the civil war. The city of Gelmina. A place which Vrasha had little reason to like. A home to slavers and slaves, and yet which had also been the salvation of her people. it was strong and wealthy, and could be a valuable - perhaps vital - partner in allowing her own kingdom to begin to recover.

Gelmina had invited her for a state visit and Vrasha had decided to take them up on it. It would be a good chance to get a read on the people and on the city. Vrasha had no tolerance for slavery but it was said that Gelmina was different. She would see. She would watch and learn and decide whether she could trust them or use them. And all the while she knew they would be doing the same to her.

After all, it was just politics.