File1270266656.jpg-(52 KB, 525x811, widow of culloden.jpg)
She took her first husband at thirteen, and notably wept piteously at the wedding, much to the embarassment of her newly-made in-laws (a powerful and very wealthy family of new-blood lowlanders, merchant barons, descendents of an inquisitor-knight who had been given the province some century and a half in the past). The parents were as unhappy as she with the match; more than anything it had been a desperate bid for political and financial survival in the rapidly cosmopolitanizing scrapfight of post-Edict Northwest. The marriage ended in disaster, plunging the nigh-bankrupt house of Cloudstone further into the shadowy margins of the ducal court. Muna was held responsible for the divorce (itself a scandalous ten-month trial); her husband, a pompous boy of sixteen, claimed that the girl was uncontrollable, violent, and utterly resistant to his touch, refusing her marriage duties. In a noteworthy court incident, the benched magistrates let out a shocked gasp when the boy removed a large bandage from his neck, displaying a massive and savage neck wound which he claimed had been delivered by none other than his lady wife herself. Needless to say, the marriage was swiftly anulled, and Muna returned to Cloudstone Mountain, where she studied uin, what is called by the lowlanders healing and traditional female arts, under the tutelage of her mother, aunt and nursemaid. She spent many long hours deep in the gloomy hillside and mountain forests that surrounded Cloudstone, and allowed few onlookers to see her. Like her mother, she had a fondness for the ancient folk costume of the Northwest, and often strode around the court in elaborate gowns and headdresses of wolfskin, swan-feathers and woven bark.