[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The ring certainly looked like a wonderful, generous gift from where Gjeelea stood. She could see it glint faintly from where her father held it, examining it closely. Gjeelea smirked as she wondered whether or not the ring would even fit about one of her father’s fingers. The princess and eldest child of the Pashtian rulers stood quietly in the corner of the large assemblage, watching the proceedings with intrigue and contemplation. The meeting adjourned, with great hope between the two foreign peoples for peace in the future – and with plans for a great celebration and welcoming feast that night.

Some chose to leave the assembly immediately to go and prepare for the festivities set up for that night. Others Pashtians like Gjeelea would find solace in chatting about the great hall with acquaintances, discussing the arrival of the foreign delegates.

“They certainly were handsome visitors!” Gjeelea cringed at hearing the high-pitched voice of the young noble lady Majran nearby. The princess moved from her isolated spot to join the gaggle of young women speaking of the new arrivals. The hem of her deep maroon robes lightly caressed the magnificent marble floor as she entered the circle, and nodded politely to the greetings of the women. Gjeelea smiled sagely at the gathered ladies and their petty conversations. Gjeelea could feel the women eye her from the highest braid peaking beneath the colorful gauze of her headscarf to the lowest hem of her robe. She waited patiently for an introduction into the conversation.

“We were just speaking of the men from across the desert, milady,” said one girl, chirping her own explanation. From beneath a most unbecoming beige scarf Gjeelea could see hidden tufts of dark brown hair. I knew that already, thank you…Gjeelea thought cynically, though she nodded passively and toyed with one of the tiny ebony braids of her own hair.

“Really? How do you all feel about them, then?” Gjeelea asked in a smooth, oily tone that gave away none of the her own opinions on the matter. I will see how they feel, then perhaps speak, the princess decided inwardly, waiting for a reply.

“I worry that their goal is not one of peace, lady,” spoke one girl carefully after much inner deliberation. “Why else would they bring so many men with them? It would not stand to our army, but peace should not come in armed soldiers.”

“I fear that they are unholy,” added another noblewoman. Her dark eyes darted from one lady to the next as her voice lowered, “How could they get across the desert? Such a journey is very dangerous, you know.”

After her words, the rest of the circle joined in at the same time, chattering over another to voice their fears.

“Oh, girls, girls, please! There is no reason to fret,” Gjeelea interrupted gently, lying through her teeth. “The only thing these emissaries give us is a good reason to feast, celebrate, and wear our good silks for a night.” There was a gentle, nervous laugh from around the circle. Smiling kindly, Gjeelea nodded her head to each woman in turn. “If you do not mind, friends, I fear I must leave you now. I must prepare for the festivities of tonight.”

There came a chorus of farewells and a grand rustling of skirts from bowing women as Gjeelea left the group. She meandered away from them, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the ladies disperse just as she left the hall. It was just as well that I uproot their weeds of fear, and save my opinions for later…Gjeelea thought, reflecting on her words with the women. Inwardly the princess worried, and wondered how these strangers might affect the king in matters of state…especially if somehow they might influence her father in choosing an heir. Despite these thoughts Gjeelea continued to rustle along quietly to her room, where she closed the door and dismissed her attendants to prepare in solitude for the night ahead.

Her dark, muddy hazel eyes glistened as she chose a dress; the first she decided on one of deep crimson color with pale yellow embroidery - the first of many dresses she would try on before choosing the right one for the banquet. Gjeelea's movements were passive, and her decisions unsure...her thoughts still remained on the emissary and how the foriegn entity might influence King Faroz. How did they cross the great desert? Why? That is most unusual...they would not do such a thing if it were not important. Gjeelea's thoughts starting running rampant in the silence of her bedchamber, and the princess never knew silence could be so loud.