Evelyn Vitalis neatly folded the last of the sheets she had washed and dried in the lower part of the castle with the rest of the maids. She felt the soft, silkiness of the clean material under her fingers and felt an ache in her heart. She wished she was back in the land of her father, sleeping on royal sheets of her own instead of working as a spy in King's Landing. Her father, King Bartram of Summerland, had died last year and her brother, Maxwell, had inherited the throne though. What everyone would denounce as "sibling rivalry" was undoubtedly a form of pure hatred between her and her old brother. He was conceited, hot-headed, and all around disagreeable. They were complete opposites and their fighting was unending, even as adults. As adults, however, he would beat her harder. She had scars left to prove that. When he became King and she turned 20, he had her sent to spy on the House of Lannister. Though unacquainted almost entirely with the seven kingdoms of Westeros, Summerland had fertile lands and a lot of gold. It was always a fear that they would be overtaken by the West and so, Maxwell had sent her here. Joffrey Lannister was oblivious of the proper way to run a kingdom and with the war he had already started, it was questionable what move he would make next. She did miss home, she thought as she lifted the sheets and began her way up the stone steps, but she did not miss the King nor his rule. She would continue happily serving her father's land, for the reason alone that it was his once.

She hummed to herself as she continued to the bedrooms to make beds for the royalty. She turned a corner with impeccable timing as a man, perhaps one of the biggest she had ever seen, angrily stormed out of a doorway to her right. His shoulder collided with her and threw her to the ground. He glanced back quickly as he continued down the hall but then stopped and turned back completely. As he did so, she knew him right away. His face was unlike any she had ever seen, half of it scarred by fire. He was The Hound. She gathered herself as he stepped towards her.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I must watch where I'm going. I was a fool to -"

She stopped her nervous mumbling as he offered her his hand. She stared for a second, scared to take it. She had heard horror stories about The Hound. He was a ruthless killer with a lust for blood and the anger of a caged dragon. She took it anyways, scared to offend him more than she probably already had. The sheets she still held in her arms, thankfully. She wouldn't have to rewash them that night. He helped her to her feet without a word and then went on his way. She stood in the now empty hall, noticing her hands were trembling, and couldn't remember that last time she had felt so frightened.