Brienne lay still, listening for movement over the sound of the waves against the little row boat. She was only just small enough to fit lying down – it wouldn't be long until she wouldn't fit anymore. And it wasn't actually that small a boat.
"Lady Brienne! You must come at once, or you won't have time to get ready!"
Her handmaiden knew her hiding spots well by this point – she'd been hiding by Evenfall's main dock for at least 5 years. But Brienne was clever – there were at least a dozen small row boats along the main dock, and another half dozen larger boats. She chose a different hiding spot every time, but usually preferred the smaller boats.
Though I won't fit here for much longer, she thought miserably.
There was shuffling near her, and a pair of large hands seized her.
"Brienne enough of this. I cannot host a feast for my liege lord without my own daughter in attendance!". Brienne was freakishly tall, both for her sex and her age, but Lord Selwyn was a brute of a man who towered over her.
"But father...I...I cannot."
They'll know. They'll all know. And they'll laugh...
Lord Selwyn's stern face softened slightly. He looked down at his daughter with an expression akin to affection. He opened his mouth to speak, but first dismissed the handmaiden, assuring her that Lady Brienne would be up to her room shortly.
"Brienne, you're not still upset are you? About Ser Ronnet?"
Brienne stared down at her boots, not daring to look at her father. She was still upset about Ser Ronnet, but that wasn't all. Ser Ronnet was just one among many who had belittled her for being ugly. Going to the feast meant hearing the sniggers as she walked past. It meant sitting up on the dais waiting to dance, but never being asked. Not that she particularly wanted to dance, but it would've been nice to have someone approach her for once. Her father never understood.
"Father...they'll know about the rose...they'll laugh at me..."
"Brienne, you are stronger than that. I have seen you fight men grown without a hint of fear. This is the same."
"No...it's..."
"Enough. You are to go to your room immediately, where you will bathe and dress in time for us to both welcome Lord Renly. I will not ask again." Lord Selwyn had resumed his harsh expression, staring coldly down at his daughter, and only heir.
Brienne trudged back to the castle fearfully, clenching her fists and holding back tears. She lumbered up the endless flights of stairs to her bedroom, frostily greeting the poor handmaiden whose job it was to make her beautiful.
It would take a miracle to make me beautiful.
Brienne begrudgingly removed her tattered boots and breeches, and settled into the warm bath. She scrubbed herself clean, and the handmaiden did her best to comb her hair. I'm going to chop it all off one day, Brienne thought. Far too much hassle – always gets in the way.
Brienne tried to focus on the mind-numbing task of cleaning and dressing, but all she could think about was the coming feast. Lord Renly Baratheon had come of age, and was touring the storm lands to charm the local lords, and prove that a boy of 16 was up to the task.
Perhaps if I hide when she next turns away, no one will look for me, and I won't have to go to the feast...
"Time to get dressed m'lady!", the handmaiden faked a smile.
A cold shiver rocked through Brienne as she stood up from the warm bath. She grabbed a towel as quickly as possible to cover herself, although the handmaiden had respectfully looked away, on the pretence of laying out Brienne's clothes.
The handmaiden did her best. It was never easy to fit Brienne into a dress – she was large in all of the wrong places. The dressmakers tried hard to sew dresses that simultaneously fit and gave her a womanly figure, but they inevitably failed. She was too thick of shoulder and waist, and had no breasts to speak of, even though she was a woman flowered.
Ser Ronnet was probably right to give me only a rose – I am hardly marriage material.
She had been betrothed to Ser Ronnet, only months before. She was the same height as him, though he was a man grown, and she only just flowered. The bright red peach fuzz on his chin was all she could see when he approached with the rose. She'd practiced her courteous words, but they would not come out. Ser Ronnet had stood looking at her with curiosity as she quickly fell into a panic, before handing the rose. "This is all you will have of me...my lady."
Her father was extremely disappointed, and Brienne just felt ashamed. Not only was she ugly, but she was stupid too.
All she was good at was fighting. Swords weren't scary, nor were the men who wielded them. In her wildest dreams, Brienne never saw herself marrying some rich lord and bearing his children...she saw herself as a knight – the bravest, most fearsome knight of the land, serving her King and protecting the realm.
A foolish dream if there ever was one. No King would want her protecting him. Men were too easily wounded by such things.
"There you go! You look beautiful – your father will be very pleased." The dress fell awkwardly as always, and the handmaiden faked another smile.
Perhaps if I jump out of my window, everyone will forget about me, and I won't have to go to the feast.