My excitement at moving to a land where the Blood of Vol was openly revered has faded quickly. This is nothing like what Skaina has taught me, and I see my contempt mirrored in her eyes. These are a simple, frightened people who believe that one can defeat Death, if only one lights enough candles on holidays.
They do not know the glories of Vol Herself, Queen of Dragons and of Elves and of Death, the exile, the banished one whom nations still fear.
The do not know her power. I will have to show them.
For the meantime, my days are taken up in this cold accursed land by pretending to be the simpering lady for “Milord”. Our wedding was a cold, flaccid affair. Our wedding night was…regrettable. He commented on my birthmark, at which point any hope of romance ceased (and there was precious little). I will never love this man. In fact I loathe him already.
I spend most of my time with my dear Skaina. She is a treasure. Without her, I would be lost. She still has much to teach me, and with the appearance, at least, of worship of Vol in this land, my instruction can go much more quickly. To them, I am simply an eager convert to their national religion.
I have noticed that Kronan does not keep any Undead soldiers or guards. I will have to ask him why.