A beautiful young girl dressed in flowing gowns stands on a castle balcony watching young soldiers train. The clanging of swords echoes off the stone walls. Bodies strain with each new lesson. Her heart races as the maneuvers are executed, wishing to be with them.
As the training comes to an end, she returns to her room. To her everything seems bland. The tapestries that used to entertain her with their stories have lost their mysteries. If only she could be a soldier like her brother. Just to train alongside him would be welcomed by her. To train to be anything besides a "young lady" would be cherished.
A grey tabby cat rubs lovingly around her feet. Bending down to pick up the persistent cat, Varisha notices a small lock pick lying on the wooden floor. Gently, almost tenderly, she retrieves the misplaced tool.
"Now, who could have left this behind?" she whispers to her cat. Glancing around, Varisha could see no evidence of the intruder.
A knock resounded off her walls. "Who is it?" Varisha questions.
"I was sent to inform you it is time for you to come down to the dining room, Miss," answers one of the serving maids. Dropping the pick in her pocket, Varisha exits her room and follows the servant down the tower stairs. Their feet make a soft padding sound as they descend.
