WAR, BLOOD AND DRAGONS

Chapter 5: Matar Hearst

The Lady Hearst could find no comfort anywhere Inside the white castle, neither nook nor crannies offered any illusions of welcome and her designated chamber albeit guarded by Hearst men felt as unwelcoming as the diamond pass, the food she found to be as bland as the people, the castle's architecture wasn't in anyway as breath taking as she'd Imagined and the bustling city stank of piss and wet surdust, more unsettling were the conversations with vassal Lords and ladies, high with praise and conceited meanings, fortive glances on occasions as she wasn't dressed as a proper Lady but in black studded leather with full sleeves and pants and a sheathed sword by her side like the Hearst infantry men, moreover, her business in the capital was borne out of the King's proposal and nobody could feign ignorance as to her more masculine disposition, surely it was to be expected of a woman who trained and fought with men on the battlefield and is even said to be one of the best of the hounds, deadly with a spear in hand, ruthless in bloodletting and what she lacked in muscle mass she compensated for in agility and tact.

Greyson had in-part expected a scar-ridden, hulking she-demon with a manly physique to whom he'd have no choice but to wed, alas, setting his gaze on her at the gardens revealed a certain beauty Lord Bent's gory book may have eluded, unlike the Caucasians, she had exotic brown skin like Leah did except less pale and having more flesh on her but the chestnut complexion and the black hair were much alike.

Matar was tall with a long face, brown eyes and long legs, she did have a few scars visible on her forearm but it took nothing from her beauty, rather a testament of her peculiar personality.

"How was your meeting with my father?" Greyson asked as they walked the garden paths together.

"It went well" She smiled, a quality she wasn't known to possess

"You must be excited for the tournament are you not?" He came again

"I must admit I'm not much of a tourney person but the dragon parade sounds very promising"

"It's such a shame my father never agreed to your request for dragons, the South should have it's own score like all the other kingdoms"

"The king seems to have very little faith in my reign as marchioness, I will admit however that my ascent was herolded by chaos but such is prevalent in the South when power is involved" The Prince was at once thrown into nervous thought as his stride slowed

"Have I troubled you my Prince?" She asked seemingly concerned as they came to a halt.

"Of course not, I'm just....um"

"You are the Prince of verynia and when we marry you will be consort to the marchioness of the south, you would also have command of the spear hounds, a force so fierce it's battlehorns divide armies, not to mention the riches of the mines, even without dragons you and I would be a force to be reckoned with" She assured

"You must forgive my mood my Lady, changes so sudden has never been easy with me nor the thought of war and the likes" he smiled nervously

"There's nothing to forgive, I also would be uneasy leaving home" She grinned as they resumed their walk but not a moment further would they be interrupted by Prince Greynor claded in royal red with a sword sheathed by his side just like his brother.

"Lady Matar Hearst, I almost didn't recognize you in all....That" Greynor chuckled alluding her irregular dressing.

"My Prince it's an honor to finally meet you" She greeted with an ingenuine smile and her hand clasped together, Greynor's eye caught the scaring on her forearm and he smirked.

"It must be difficult, being slower and weaker than the men on the battlefield" He jested and Matar's fake smile remained but if looks could kill, he wouldn't be standing.

"Is that how you came about those scars?" He continued

"That's enough brother"Greyson interjected, clearly vexed but still maintaining composure.

"Pardon my direct approach, it's just sad that nobody advised her properly, women do not belong on the battlefield, she probably looks like a map underneath her clothes" he sniggered and so Matar rolled up the sleeves on her right arm revealing a few more scars.

"I am maarchioness of the South, I shed blood and tears to attain and maintain this station, I had neither dragons nor help from the king but to the glory of my house I have never lost a battle ever since the age of 16 when I first graced the battlefield, my scars are a testament to my unyielding strength and your father, having fought in wars himself agreed to that" Greynor, on hearing this was mute with embarrassment and seeing the grin on his brother's lips didn't help, he barged his his way through them and walked away.

The princess' carriage arrived a few hours past noon just before the tourney, Leah rushed to the courtyard to recieve her but when the carriage door opened and Marilyn stepped out, Leah could tell something was off. In every occasion the princess' movement are intentionally done with dramatic coordination, from grabbing a cup of water on the table to wiping stray strands of hair on her face, how she talks and walks....every movement has a distinct flair as with most noble women but as at this moment, Marilyn was void of them all.

"Princess" Leah greeted with a nod as she made to join Nina in offloading the carriage but Marilyn held her back and pulled her aside.

"You must prepare to leave the dragonsfort at once, Zarr Caster will find you and protect you, trust nobody else but Zarr" She whispered

"What! Whose Zarr Caster?" Leah querried, confused

"That'll be all" Marilyn said and proceeded into the castle whilst Leah stood, utterly stunned and truly puzzled.