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Princess Valencia has had terrible luck with names. To start with, she was born Princess Valencia Velenosa, and to be a noblewoman of House Velenosa should have meant by virtue of her name she could enjoy a idle lifestyle being ridiculously wealthy (which she was), sleekly fashionable (of this there was no doubt), spoiled (absolutely), and without demands placed upon her (this is where it failed). In her opinion, it is not in the least bit her fault that when she was asked to meet with different vassals of House Velenosa as a diplomat and to strengthen bonds to the family that she might have taken some small steps to make the exceedingly boring duties a bit more entertaining. Valencia was, of course, completely blameless in the sordid affair involving a certain count dueling a certain marquis over the right to court her, and the tragic death that resulted was certainly unfortunate, but it was grossly unfair that her aunt the Archduchess Carlotta Velenosa seemed to hold her accountable. After a few more minor incidents, aunt Carlotta made it clear that Valencia was going to be married off to get her away from Lenosia and to keep her out of trouble. Without even having met the man, Valencia was betrothed to a nephew of the high lord, Prince Sherrod Redrain- just because her name reminded them of 'Valeria', one of the great heroes of Redrain history. Valencia was a bit offended; she had many wonderful qualities. She was gorgeous, cunning, had the admirable ability to get others to do what she wanted, always (very) fashionable, and never dull. And it was just her name that had her married off to this Prince Angus Redrain and sent to the cold and barbaric northlands. To her considerable surprise, she rather enjoyed the north. It wasn't the least bit stuffy and they were as charmingly uninhibited as the Lyceum even if some of them were hopeless at social graces, and quite a few of the men were endearing(ly easy to manipulate). She even found herself genuinely liking Angus, the delightfully boorish oaf, since what Lyceum man would have killed a bear with his own hands for her? Certainly not one of the counts that had dueled for her affection. Tragically, marital bliss was short lived. Angus was acting as sworn shield to his uncle Sherrod at the time of the King's Rest and killed by... whatever it is that killed all of them. Valencia even sincerely mourned him, even as she was faced with the unfortunate circumstances of being a foreign now-widowed princess in a family that was not her own. But all's not lost. Her cousin-in-law Darren, the new high lord, doesn't seem like a man with much patience for political intrigue, and she can help her new family, House Redrain at court for her own political power. And maybe get the better of her cousins in House Velenosa. They did marry her off, after all, and if the best revenge is living well, spiteful success is surely a close second. More recently in September of 1006 AR, Valencia decided to return home to the Lyceum.

"The Southern Star in cold North Rises." So spoke the immortal Redrain bard of Princess Valencia Redrain nee Velanosa. In a world of flaming redheads, fair skin, ice and snow, her dark skin and jet black hair makes her stand out, even before the inspirational beauty that sends hearts a flutter. A sweet shaped face, framed by her thick ebon locks always seems alight with joy, mischief, ferocity, intrigue, and any combination of these. Her lush lips curl into gentle expressions, toying with the mind and heart. Her frame is all ample curves and sultry swagger, moving with a grace that accentuates just what she needs to and when. Her voice is often husk mixed with melody, a pleasant sound to the ear that somehow makes the brain disengage from its rightfully necessary defenses against her charm.

Valencia -loves-. She loves intrigue like a midnight lover, starting it, or finding it wherever she goes. She loves beauty, especially when it enhances her own beauty, and loves her vanity even more. She loves the North, surprisingly enough, viewing it as a blank canvas upon which to paint her mark. She loves people, their potential, and what they can do for her, and even more, what she can make them do. She loves love, finding the game of it an irresistible delight to engage in, and even more the game of remaining blemishless to the courtiers of any land. She loves vengeance, petty cruelties, and the satisfaction of a defeat that can never be traced back to her. She loves the glory of charity and looking after the less fortunate, because let's face it, who else -could- she look after? She is an intense woman of loves and passions, eager to invent her next game, and maybe even best her homeland of origin, showing the South what -real- strength is about.