Argyle light filled the carriage as a window of rather small proportions was opened, the window itself merely a series of tiny openings within the wooden frame of the carriage. One beam of light landed blinded Lady Uthain’s left eye, her head moving slightly to avoid it.

“Apologies, my lady,” the man said, bowing his head.

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “It was becoming quite dreary in here. We could use the light.”

The man gave his thanks as he lifted his head, turning back to Large Lord Robb as he continued their previous conversations. “The traders are becoming more disgruntled every season.”

Lord Robb nodded. “The rise in taxes has come at a bad time, and with Mythel declaring war there’s little reason for them to stay.”

“Which is why we should lower the foreign trade tax for the upcoming season. The traders would flock to from Darstin at such an opportunity.” Lady Uthain looked from her uncle to the man, the Trade Minister Plebus, her gaze darting back and forth as she followed the conversation.

She enjoyed such conversations, those of politics and trade and everything else. They were meaningful, unlike so much of her life. Alas, being the second princess did not award her with a position that allowed her to become involved, and her father was more likely to see her bound to her room than to the council or the courts or whatever other organizations were needed to run a kingdom.

As her gaze settled upon her uncle once again, his time to speak having arrived, his own eyes met hers. “I received word yesterday that your father is already quite infuriated with me.” She sighed. Of course he was.

“He’ll just have to put up with it,” she said with a shrug. Lord Robb gave a warm chuckle.

“That he will. What of you, Lady Uthain? Care to join our conversation?”

“I have no stake in the matters of trade, dear uncle, but I will give my opinion if you’d like.”

“That would be a splendid idea. I’ve heard much from your uncle,” Plebus interjected, not one to be left out. “Though the old coot has led me astray before.”

“Old coot? I’m your senior by only a few months,” Robb scowled.

“Well, I can only comment on what I’ve heard, but from my understanding Mythel has only declared ownership over the fields north of Sinestolk. It’s a small claim, and I’d not expect the war to last long. The war likely won’t be large enough to affect prices substantially.” A small knot formed in her stomach as she spoke. It was not often that she gave her opinion, and doing so grinded on her nerves.

“What would you suggest, then?”

“Perhaps a more targeted tax decrease. Darstin still maintains an outdated war tax, and the sale of foodstuffs and general goods are going to become costly. If we vastly lower taxes for those specific goods, as opposed to more general tax decrease, we could offset any losses from this years harvest.”

Plebus nodded along as she spoke, and only at the end did she realize he had already thought of her plan. “It is a conservative plan. I am fond of them myself. What about you, Lord Robb?” Her uncle had been listening just as intently, a wispy smile on his face.

“I am in agreement with Lady Uthain, at least on this matter. The kingdom isn’t in the position to exacerbate the war, at least not currently.”

“You would be the one to exacerbate a war, uncle.”

“Indeed,” Plebus affirmed. Lord Robb gave a look of incredulity.

“Why I never…” he said. “I haven’t been involved in war affairs in nearly five years.”

“Uncle, need I remind you of the Solstice?” He clasped his hands together, eyes looking away from her.

“You do not,” he said simply. Lady Uthain gave a shake of her head as she smiled. Few could cause a war by bedding a neighboring king's daughter, but only her uncle could cause one by bedding his daughter and mother, on the same night no less.

The conversation entered a lull as her uncles face reddened in embarrassment, and Lady Uthain could do little but look to the outside world. They had been travelling through flat plains since the start of their journey, and she wondered if the scenery would change. It was a month long journey to Sansbrook, after all, and even now she mostly clueless as to the point of this endeavor.

“I had almost forgotten. May I ask, uncle, what this trip is for?” He was visibly surprised, either at the contents of the question or its suddenness, possibly both. He paused in thought only a moment.

“One of the more ambitious Artifs has found something of interest to me,” he said.

“That seems quite vague, uncle.”

He shook his head. “It’s a beast, Lady Uthain,” he finally came clean. “Not one we’ve seen before, at least not in a long while. The Artif has found a Beastmaster called Nalmet who has notes on it. He’s been responsible for taming the beast, but from the messages I’ve received the beast is… particular.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It likes to kill. It’ll kill anything that gets near it, and supposedly makes for quite a good show.”

“Ah, that does sound quite like you,” she said.

Lord Robb harrumphed. “I’m not so easily stereotyped, am I?” he asked Plebus. Plebus could only chuckle in response, causing Robb to grumble to himself.

“What does the beast look like?” She still hadn’t gotten an image of it, leaving her nothing to play with in her mind.

“I had the creature etched onto my door. Did you see?”

“Yes, I had noticed. Is that really what it looks like?” She could remember a few of its details, a thing half beast and half man. Something she thought to be from fairy tales.

“From what I’ve been told. I’ve not yet seen the beast, but it had better live up to the lip service the Artif has been giving it, let me tell you.”

She looked out the window once again, her imagination stirring a bit at the thought of the beast.