There was a fear within Ruha as she walked through the gates. They were made of logs strapped together with chains, rough, almost primitive if she did not know the strength that made them. They stretched from one outcrop of the mountain to another, cradling the city within them. As she passed through, leaving her guards and horse to trek to the main house, she saw how cramped it was within it. The main road barely had room for a single carriage to pass through and she imagined people walking would be at great risk along them.

For now though, it was silent. They had been ordered inside while she arrived, the Chief had wanted the first look at her.

What her purpose was to be she didn't know. She had been sent as a sacrifice, an appeasement to make the mountain tribes withdraw their troops from Ziirian borders and cease the war. Ruha was only a niece to the King, hardly important within the family life. But the King had introduced her in a letter as his own daughter, beginning her new life as a lie that would surely result in her death. A lie the tribes believed. So she was sent, her dowry of many fine sheep and much gold ahead to give her a better chance of surviving the encounter. Whether they wanted her for a jester or a Chieftess the tribes seemed loathe to tell them.

Tears made her cheeks icy and her cloak could not quite hide the chill in the air. The world seemed still, too still, though they had battled blizzards to get here.

"Hello?" She called, peering around. By Ziirian standards, she was not good looking. A short, plump girl with reddish, blonde hair that frizzed in summer heat. Her skin was pale, her mouth wide, but she had a certain charm to her. A softness and wit that showed a greater understanding of humanity then of those who mocked her.

The main house loomed before her and she was sure she spotted figures within it moving before the windows, but she could not be sure. She had been told to go straight and into the house, but she had hoped she would be greeted, ideally by a friendly face. She spared a glance over her shoulder, only to see that the gates had been shut and she could no longer see the guards escorting her to the city.

She walked up wide stone steps and to the main door, a great, arched oak piece with many fine carvings. It was half opened, and she put her shoulder to it. It opened further with no protest. The room she entered was warm bar the wind entering through the door, so she shut it quickly and hurried to the fire's side to warm herself.

She had only a few moments before there was a voice; "So this is to be the King's daughter."

She spun, face to face with the Chief himself.