ritual99
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After years of fostering her independence with sparring lessons and wild stories of heroes and legends, her parents now seemed bent on molding her into a proper lady. Her mother’s sword, once her proudest possession, now gathered dust in the manor's attic. Her father’s evenings recounting tales of the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall over honey loaf had been replaced with terse letters and distant reassurances.
She had decided the moment they sent her away to Nevarra that she would not be turned into some marquis’s daughter, destined to marry a mediocre nobleman and spend her life as a trophy wife.
She was their daughter at the end of the day.