Why is it that when diplomats start coming, they come in droves? It’s not just one kingdom that sets out, but half of Beqanna. The only new throne was in the Dale, so Straia isn’t surprised that one of their diplomats ends up on their border. The ravens had been tracking the flying horse. Horse, because this one didn’t have wings, and the ravens were endlessly confused as to how one can fly without wings. Straia was sort of amused at this ruckus over this newfound trait. But mostly, she didn’t feel like playing diplomat.
But needs must, and all that. The ravens had told her the Dale was slightly less dead than it had been before. Not much, but slightly.
She makes her way through the pine forests toward the diplomat. She could fly, of course, but flying when your kingdom was surrounded by pine forests was actually quite useless. Besides, Straia preferred to walk here. She loved the feel of the pine branches as they caresses her skin, loved to brush against the bark as she moved. She could imagine no other life than this, one in service to the pine forests that have given her so much.
Engelsfors was already there, greeting the newcomer politely enough. Straia slides in next to the golden diplomat with a nod of her head. “I’m Straia, Queen of the Chamber,” she offers. In diplomatic meetings, she never beats around the bush with titles. It’s useful to know who the hell you are talking to. “What can we do for you?”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber