If Isalynne had known about this particular ritual leading to her taking on new duties as princess, perhaps she would have reconsidered.
The stone floor was unforgiving against her bare knees, chilling her to the bone. No object of comfort or ease was allowed. It was meant to be a test of her resilience, to show her faith and devotion to the gods; to make sure that as a ruler, she would do what was right by both them and her people. The vigil would last the whole night. Never in her life had she felt a need for thick furs or garments to cover her, but she was beginning to understand the desire. Biting winds could not be entirely blocked from the shrine, and blew around her body as if deliberately tormenting her.