Jasaca watched the sun rise. Strange to think that three years ago, she had watched another sunrise. But of course, then the view was of the sleepy farms, not broken, bloody corpses. So many had died for this war. She herself had lost a dear one. It was a peculiar, twisted train of events that had lead to this, she reflected.
The sun had not risen sufficiently high enough to warm the castle walls yet. But Jasaca loved this time, because the peace was unbroken by the hustle and bustle of the day. It also reminded her of her home. 'Twas perfect.
But of course it couldn't last. A young page hurried up to her. "Milady Jasaca?"
"The king wishes to speak with you."
"This early?" But she was already making her way back into the castle proper. As she did, another fell into step beside her.
"'Tis much too early to be hurrying about, love."
She smiled warmly at Arimine. "You're the one who is constantly awake to bid good morning to the sun."
"At least I won't expect you to join me after we're married."
"I most likely will anyway."
"True. So what is the rush?"
"The king wishes to speak with me, and I would prefer to do so before Prince Ranath comes in."
"Ah. Of course." There was no love lost between the Crown Prince and the elven ambassador. "I know why I don't like him, but what grievance do you have with his highness?"
"It's not something I can easily explain, Arimine. I just know he frightens me."
"That is not something that requires explanation, love. You'd best hurry and see what the king wants, then. I am told that the prince is becoming an earlier riser."
Jasaca gave him a quick kiss and hurried off to see what the king wanted.