[insert spiffy title here ]
an excerpt

․PROLOGUE․
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An icy wind blew through the night. The curtains of the pavilion fluttered restlessly. Eldra hugged her knees tightly, chilled. It was so cold. Another gust of wind filled the curtain with air, and then it died. She felt something cool brush against her cheek. Lifting her hand to her face, she flicked aside a twig that had blown in with the air. Shuddering, Eldra pulled the thin covers tightly around her body; not that they helped much. Even they were cool.

Her eyes wandered around the tent; there was her maid lying near her feet, soundly asleep. Moonlight shone through the tossing drapes, which her attendants had purposely left free to allow in the soothing air. The girl's lips twisted into a wry smile. Perhaps it wasn't really as cold as she believed. Maybe it was her own thoughts that were sending shivers down her spine. And no wonder. Everything and everybody about this adventure was simply beautiful--graceful, solemn steeds marching in a single endless rank, noble warriors and ladies riding them, banners, even a litter--everything except her.

Not as though any of those accompanying Eldra realized it. The princess masked her inner turmoil with near perfection. What would happen to her if her show failed now? No, she couldn't let down her guard. She would never be able to join Ervendi's prince in marriage if she did. "Reveal our true intention and you will bring death upon us all," someone had warned her. Who was it? Her mind, now straining to stay in reality, struggled to remember. Ah, yes, it had been her father, the King.

The King. Dear King. She felt mixed feelings for him. Why was he sending her off to Ervendi? She wasn't ready to leave home yet. I'm only just barely eighteen. And a childish eighteen-year-old at that, people had often criticized her. (Foolish of them, as if I would even listen to such petty insults.) It felt as though she was a mere tool, being used by her country. Used by the people as one of the few methods--or perhaps the only somewhat effective way--to keep two nations from warring: forcing a marriage between two people living in completely different worlds. It was a desperate attempt, and it irked her that all those who she had once considered loyal relations would use her so out of panicked, cowardly fear. All that her father and her family had said about God seemed hypocritical. She was grateful to have been smart enough to keep her distance from such religion.

Strangely, the marriage proposal had succeeded. Ervendi, though a greater nation than her home Aexiin and capable of wiping her country off the face of the earth, had answered positively. Everyone had congratulated her incessantly with joyful, beaming faces. Perhaps they were all shocked with relief. All had assured her, reminding her how many valiant deeds Prince Valde of Ervendi had committed (supposedly). Even then, she could not bring herself to appreciate the idea of marrying him. But no one ever asked her if she wanted to go; no, the land was far too scared that Eldra might express negative feelings. And what then? Aexiin couldn’t risk it; they had to offer the best they could to Ervendi--and that included a smiling bride. Thus, she, the eldest of the King's daughters, had been sent on the journey to Ervendi, to be given in marriage. The girl dozed for what seemed like a moment; then consciousness returned, along with her thoughts.

Perhaps—just maybe—Ervendi was the majestic and beautiful place it merchants boasted it to be; hopefully, the prince was all that her ladies-in-waiting had reported to her. But what would she do if it were not so? Eldra, already half asleep, twisted over, burying her face in the thick pillow. Tomorrow would be a new day. She vaguely noticed the warmth spreading over her body. A soft breeze swirled her hair, sending it to rest gently on her face. How strange—I was cold a few moments earlier. Or—how long have I been awake?

Anxious thoughts clouding, she finally sank into oblivion.