"Tesoro, when are you going to grow up?"

"I'm trying, Robert Baratheon! Nan says it takes time."

"Try harder."

"Don't rush me or I'll do it wrong then. I'm already 10, have patience."


According to common belief, and myself included in the followers, it is said that growing up is the most difficult process a person has to endure. It is a double edged sword. A gamble, which can either ensure bliss or can leave the oblivious heart traumatized. It's devastating, exhilarating, confusing and inevitable. The days when castles dissolve into boulders, mighty swords become filthy sticks, veils shape into pillow covers and childhood companions are...lost.

Yes, very hard indeed. It's hard to shed a veneer of childish dreams and imagination and step into the real world with only an anticipation that it shall be a new adventure.

Funny, how we grow up with a childish thought.

I too had to let go of many layers which constituted my childhood. I remember one day fretting about my non existent breasts only at the age of 13. I was trying on a new dress that Elia brought for me.

Pulling away the hanging bodice, I peered at the shrunken nubs and glowered at them. I looked up where Elia stood in front of the mirror, a snug bodice pushed up her soft, and visible bosom, fluffed up skirts which accentuated her slim hips. She was admiring her own gown in which she looked absolutely gorgeous, like my dream-self. I again frowned at my chest.

"Say, Lia?"

She turned to face me and smiled, "Yes, Lia?"

"At what age did you grow your breasts?"

"I... I don't really remember. They just popped out one day, so to speak." She frowned in thought.

It was going to be her 6th season that year. She told me that she wasn't particularly dubbed the diamond of the first water but she was sought after for: her dowry, her brother being a rich tycoon with a prosperous shipping business, for being the beloved neice of the Marques of Winterfell and her family's close affiliation with the duchess of Westeros. She was a great catch in my opinion. Not because of the aforementioned affair, but because she was an intelligent young woman who wouldn't shy away from working if need be, but mainly because she has a heart of gold. Despite her being Oberyn's sister I could never find any fault in my cousin. Yet people made an issue of her frail health and hips being not suitable to birth heirs.

"So are you saying that if i...let's say, stuff my bodice with handkerchiefs today, no one would notice?" I inquired with equal parts anticipation and amusement.

She clapped her hands once, "What a capital idea!" She exclaimed, "Then you can offer your services to any sniffling nose! Be warned though, it is a bit chilly today." She giggled preetily while making me groan in distress.

One layer: shed. Resentment for my womanhood. If you ask me to point out the exact time or day I started appreciating and accepting myself as a woman, it would be impossible. Some things just happen without any conscious thought.

Another, and a crucial one, was peeled away from me at the exact same year. Elia was visiting, and for the first time Father didn't make her leave before the boys came, that was because we were celebrating Ned's success as a young inventor. Hardly out of the university, he invented a special type of a printing press which required lesser ink and made minimum mess.

It was a huge hit. It took the market by storm. Many publication houses pleaded for the design and many investors suggested for him to open his own publications. He decided to stay on the middle ground as a shrewd businessman that he was and allowed the investors to build his printing houses and gave the design to those businesses which were willing to share their profits with a hefty percentage.

He was a genius with money making. I was happy for him because now he shined in his own right and didn't live under Bran's shadow. Also because couple of years prior, he helped me cross the gorge our relationship had only managed to deepen. He was still not very talkative and never showed affection but he would ask me about myself and also if I wanted anything, whenever he went to the city. I once asked for a 4 color water paint set. He brought me a 12 color set. Another time I requested for a writing tray. He brought one, along with a delicately designed desk, complete with a comfortable chair. He was in a way like Papa, with his function oriented life-style. You see, he never would have given me a box full of pretty shoes had I asked for one pretty pair. But he would have given me a more comfortable and durable sort of footwear - and would be damned pleased with his choice. It would be unfair not to mention that the pair would have still been meant for girls and somewhat appealing.

So I was beaming at Ned too, along with others while Papa made his toasts before we resumed dinner. Bran had been watchful of me since that morning and was still stealing glances at me surreptitiously while frowning. I opted to ignore him but he was persistent.

"Saw you playing at the creek , brat. Who were you with?"

"Myself." I answered without looking up.

"You were talking." My cheeks started to burn. I was playing with Howlland.

"Perhaps I was thinking aloud."

He smirked, "For a 13 year old, who talks to herself, you have a lot of smart things to say."

I didn't look up from my plate even though my throat was constricted. So I just pushed myself away from the plate.

"Bran. Don't tease her. Let her eat"

His laughter sounded like a donkey's braying, "You should have seen her," he addressed the whole table, "Looked absolutely ridiculous. But so believable, I almost marched up to demand who she was speaking with."

Now my ears were ringing. I wasn't exactly mentally challenged as not to realize that even after all the years... Howlland remained the same. Same height. Same age. Even the same clothes. He was a manifestation of my longing for companionship and made into the image of the stories I used to hear from Mr. Reed about his son. Whom he had to leave at his parent's house when he joined the army after the death of his wife. He remained with his grandparents even after Reed's retirement because they needed him.

Bran was right, I was getting older.

I bit my lip so as to stop myself from crying. From in front of me I heard Elia say, "'Tis hardly ridiculous, my lord. Our mind is our playground and children are known to have such active imagination." She held my eyes while saying that. They held a wealth of sadness and apology but also a plea for acceptance and to embrace the change of adulthood by letting go.

I did. After that night when I cried at my loneliness. I wished him away.


"Mia Lia, when are you going to grow up?"

"When it's time."

"When is that?"

"After some time, I imagine."

"How long is some time?"

"Longer than anytime."


It was the 14th summer of my mortal life and the boys were yet again visiting, when I shed many of my final layers, but I never anticipated it to be traumatizing and my metamorphosis to happen in one day. I remember there was to be a garden party the Dayne family was hosting. As expected, all of Winterfell was invited, especially it's lord and his family. I thought to make an excuse and save myself from the drudgery that was to accompany while socializing with the Dayne sisters.

Nan, of course as always figured out my intentions and had my father intervene. She, with hands on her ample hips glared at me while apprising my father the benefits socializing could engender.

"Talk some sense into her, my lord. She wishes to stay hidden with those books of hers and is planning' to live her whole life in seclusion! She needs to go out and befriend girls of her age. She scarcely can hold a conversation. She needs to learn that too!"

I glared back, "Really Nan, no need to embellish. I just didn't want to go to a Dayne garden party."

Father tiredly ran his hand through his hair, "And why not?"

"I have my reasons." I shrugged.

"You see, my lord? It's like she lives in a world of her own making with rules made by her! Let me tell you, Lyanna Elizabeth Stark, 'tis considered blasphemy."

Laughter unwittingly sputtered from my mouth, "Honestly Nan. Your dramatics know no bounds."

She just stood there and scowled at me.

"Lyanna listen to Nan and I bid you to accompany me. I did not raise a petulantly petty young lady. And she's right, you need to mingle with people of your age. Form some conversational skills."

We both held a staring contest. He didn't even twitch and used his no nonsense face. I had to cry defeat and nod.

Nan clapped her hands once in triumph and left while mumbling, "I know the perfect dress for you, lamb..." as I started dragging my feet behind her.

Father looked at the clock in his library, "And before you leave please knock for the boys too?"

I nodded and dashed upstairs. I immediately went straight for Robert's rooms. Last week he secretly bought a bonnet for me. It had beautiful pink flowers on it and is now the most precious thing in my wardrobe. I decided if I was going, I shall wear that. I smiled at the thought. As I was about to knock, the door softly opened and one of the younger maids, Mary, stepped out. She looked flushed and disheveled with her shift barely holding on to her buxom chest while she hugged her uniform tightly to her body. The uniform was in her hands not on her body.

She started when she saw my smile die and got replaced with a frown. I looked over her shoulder at Robert's muscled back. He was naked with only a sheet tied around his hips and was splashing his face and chest with water.

"Mi...mi'lady?"

He froze and quickly turned around at that. His blue eyes widened in recognition when they spied me.

"Umm yes. Father just wanted me wake everyone up and remind you all that we have a garden party to attend." I glanced at the maid, my brows were still pinched in confusion. "Mary, could you please wake my brothers as well?" She squeaked a "yes".

I nodded and turned to walk away.

" Lyanna! Wait." I stopped and faced his silk robed chest which rumbled with, "Leave" for Mary. I looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to talk. His face held no regret and his eyes, no embarrassment. He just stared as if waiting.

I don't know what I felt that day. It was a peculiar mixture of disappointment and confusion. I didn't know what to make of his whoring and believe me I did know, even though I had no knowledge of the basic workings. I didn't know what to make of his swollen lips that were red and bruised. They have looked like that before. Right before he had kissed me all over. When I asked how they got so puffy he had lied about Ned punching him. I realized he lied while staring at those lips then.

I didn't know what to make of his shaggy hair which was disheveled too, like the maid's. That too I have seen before and not after a nap.

"Yes?" I still had a frown on my face.

He bit his lip while thinking and ran a hand down his face and then smiled charmingly. He didn't say anything nor do I think he had anything to say. We did not have a relationship. But then why did he kiss me so much? I actually winced in my persitent confusion. He reached for my shoulders which I knew was to pull me against himself and then kiss me. There's that damned act again. It was ricocheting in my head. He kissed his whores. He kissed me too. And he was going to kiss me again.

Then...what does that make me?

I stepped away quickly and shook my head to clear it.

"Tesoro" he voice sounded gruff with slight annoyance.

"I can't think. ... Please, just don't touch me right now." I wrung my hands. "What did you want to say?"

He just kept on staring at me. His eyes flashed with something at my words but he hid it. They became watchful, "Do you?" He asked like his normal self now.

I shook my head, "If there's nothing then..." I stepped away slowly, then turned around and ran to my room. He didn't call me back nor did I want him to.

When I reached my room, Nan had a pink dress ready for me with that pink bonnet in her hands.

"I pick this one because it'll match your new bonnet..."

"Nan I don't want to wear this color. Please take out the new blue one that Elia sent."

"But..."

"Nan." I looked into her eyes and gruelingly said, "Please."

I didn't see that bonnet again in my wardrobe after that day.

I dressed up or rather sat demurely while Nan fussed with me, with not much interest. I also didn't even make a sound.

"Lamb, yer hair's too thick and long for the pins to hold." My father never allowed my hair to be cut. It has been growing long ever since my early years.

I ran my fingers through it and felt the softness, "Let it fall freely then."

"I could trim it a bit..." She curled a lock around her finger and measured how much is her "a bit".

" No, Nan. My hair is probably my best feature and I happen to like it long." That was true especially since it acquired a light streaking from too much exposure to the sun. It looked like sun-kissed brown silk.

She tied the upper half of my hair in an elaborate fashion which made me look different, somehow grown up, or was it just my grim face? I kept on staring at my reflection for a while and felt an oily sensation of Robert's hands on my skin. I flinched in disgust and quickly came away from the mirror.

"There is promise in there I tell you." Nan beamed.

I couldn't help but snort without humor at that, "Yes. A promise of a lifetime of spinsterhood with maybe a chance to see the whole world and study their cultures. I'll take both of them anytime."

"It's those books talking. Filling that head with hay."

"Books are fodder for mind, Nan. They help expand your mind." I gave her a bland look. My tone seemed hard too.

She stared with that assessing look. I stared back and challenging her to ask me and despair.

She just sighed, "Aye well, no one's gonna want to marry a gel with an expanded head." Then widened her eyes in mock horror. "Imagine a veil covering that head. Like a handkerchief hiding a watermelon."

I genuinely laughed out loud at that.

We arrived on time in one carriage. The ride seemed a bit awkward because I couldn't look at Robert and his eyes never strayed from me except when he was being observed. When we stopped I jumped down immediately and stuck to Papa throughout. My favorite book in my reticule felt like a pulsing source of encouragement and support. If worse comes to worst I can always hide somewhere and read peacefully. After smiling and greeting so many faces my cheeks started to strain. There was the Dayne son who was knighted recently for something. A Duke's son who was visiting Arthur Dayne and apparently he was the honored guest.

I absently smiled when introduced but my eyes strayed far to a nice and shadowed clearing of trees with a small pond beyond. Finally I excused myself and went in the house to freshen up. Which was a ruse really to slip into a quiet room. Ideally a library. That was exactly where the Dayne sisters found me.

"What? What is it? I was just starting to flirt with the Earl."

"Oh hang it all. Eddard Stark is here!"

I rolled my eyes from behind the chair on which I was hidden from their view.

"So? I thought you wanted to snag Brandon?"

"I saw him mauling a serving wench once. He is handsome but a serving wench? I heard those trollops have clap."

They both giggled. "Hush, 'Shara. Oh you're so wicked. We're not suppose to know such things."

"And Eddard has grown so wickedly handsome I could eat him. And he has been a perfect gentleman. I think he even blushed adorably when I batted my eyes at him." She sighed in pleasure.

My poked my head out from the back of the chair and exclaimed, "What?"

They both squeaked in unison. "Lyanna."

"So now you've sharpened your talons for Ned? You, Ashara Dayne are a fickle creature."

"I... Well..." She stuttered.

"Think of what he'll have to say after I tell him all that I've heard?" I shook my head sagely, "He'll just swear-off ever seeing such a wicked girl again."

"No!" Ashara came towards me. "Please, don't."

I nodded in sympathy. Then, "Sit." I ordered.

They both sat.

"On one condition."

"Anything." Ashara cried.

I wet my lips nervously, "What does " mauling" a wench entail?"

They stared at me for a moment in stunned silence but then started to giggle.

"Oh you're such an innocent little dear."

"I'm not surprised. Your father keeps you hidden and away from the world's prying eyes."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, "Just... Just answer the question for me." I stuttered at their laughter but I quickly recovered, "As Socrates once said, 'There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance'."

They both leaned towards me with sparkly eyes. Like I think how the serpent might have looked when he had Eve's attention.

"Do you know what happens between a gentleman and a lady?"

"Marriage?"

They giggled again.

"No. When they're alone?"

"They converse like civilized people and abreast each other of their lives."

They smiled big which slowly died when they realized that I wasn't joking.

I made a frustrated gesture, "I don't know, play hopscotch. I would not be asking had I known, now would I?"

"Lyanna, do you even know about kissing?" Allyria asked reluctantly.

My cheeks burned when all the memories of Robert's kisses rushed forward. There wasn't a place where he didn't kiss. Even on my flat chest. And petting. He liked to touch me and make me touch him. I remember the day he showed me what a cock really means. He groaned everytime I asked if I was doing alright while pushing and stroking him on the crotch of his trousers. He pinned me to the ground after sometime and rubbed himself against me. The abrupt action scared me too much. I pushed against his weight, until I started crying. He let me go after he groaned loudly and slumped over me, not before. I ran away from him and never touched him again like that, no matter how prettily he asked. Thank heavens I didn't touch him without his clothes.

"Of course" I mumbled.

"Good. Alright, well, 'mauling' means when a gentleman is very...vigorous with his kisses and caresses. It's usually done to pursue a reluctant woman and arouse her ardor to make love with her. 'That' is when a man and woman join bodies." she quickly explained the latter when she saw my grimace.

My first thought was that Robert had always been mauling me. Second, did he maul everyone else?

Third, I was not an innocent anymore.

"Of course gentlemen do not treat ladies of quality like that. They don't kiss one unless she wants to and don't force them to return their affections." She continued.

"Allie, ladies of good birth don't let any man touch them unless he's your future husband or is already one." Ashara stated her opinion, "It's not what a gentleman wants but its all about the lady's character. Gentlemen can seduce women like that." Ashara snapped her fingers, "Only morally loose women give away their favors easily. And a lady's kiss is her highest favor, short to her virtue."

Not only just mauling me but like I was a common serving wench which has clap.

My ears began to ring. "And if a lady is touched like that?"

"She's a scarlet woman. You know, a harlot, whore."

Self-disgust started to creep in my veins as I mustered my courage to ask the question which had plagued my mind ever since that summer when I was 6.

"Do friends do that?"

Allyria frowned, "Like what? Maul each other? Make love?" I nodded silently.

"I don't think its proper for friends to do that. Unless the man is taking advantage of his friend. "

"Advantage?"

"Yes." Allyria rolled her eyes, "Men take advantage of women all the time. Because a woman would be happy to remain friends or acquaintances as we are trusting like that." She shrugged superiorly." But a man would use her to slake his lusts."

"But Allie! I don't think a gentleman could do that to all his lady friends. Their families could kill him."

"Yes well, only to those he doesn't respect and then perhaps keeps her on the side. Like a mistress."

I paled, "But doesn't a mistress get paid for her body?" I remember Elia telling me that.

Allie looked shrewdly at her and smiled, "Oh? You do know a bit huh? Yes she does but it all begins with friendship. You know, meeting, talking etc, all without being seen. He tries to soften her and wins her over."

"And if he's seen?"

"With a mistress, then people pretend they didn't see him. With a lady, its called courtship and usually results in marriage."

"Why wouldn't he marry the mistress?" I inquired.

"Who would want to have an immoral woman as a wife and mother his children?"

"But doesn't he have affection for her?"

Ashara cocked her head while thinking, "No. Not usually. Men do not feel that way. They don't get their affections involved. A man can get physical with a woman without feeling one whit for her."

"Then why do they do it?"

"Why else? Simply because they think they can."


I don't remember much of the conversation afterwards. Just that they apologized for all those years ago and hoped I would visit them more often. They also volunteered to enlighten me how a friend of theirs shares these stories when they meet again in their boarding school, after vacations. And promised to share everything with me next time. I mutely nodded when expected and answered in monosyllables. I felt numb. Completely devoid of emotion as the past years played in my head over and over again. I know it wasn't the exact reason which made Robert groom me into something made for his entertainment. He had his reasons. But right then I only thought of myself as a kept woman. Heaven knows I wasn't even a woman back then.

In that same state of trance I went to seek refuge in the same clearing which I saw before. I leaned on a tree and just stared ahead. I imagined I could read to divert my mind but it laid forgotten in my lap. I didn't see him coming nor when he quietly sat beside me. So I started when he asked the same question, without the customary poke to my hardly noticeable chest - but in a different way.

"Why aren't you growing up?"

I still didn't face him, but pretended to resume reading, "Why are you growing too much?"

"Because" he drawled and I heard the smile in his voice, "I'm a man and I must grow bigger in order to protect you."

'Then who will protect me from you?' Was my immediate thought. I trumped down any urge to confront him. He didn't deserve even my anger. But it was unnecessary. I was already left bereft of any emotion for him. I could only offer my indifference.

I turned a new page. Both in my book then and of my life, "And I am a realist who knows she shall grow up when her biological clock deems to allow it."

"Has 'she' always been this smart?"

I didn't answer for a long time then murmured, "No. Not really. But now I shall endeavor to be."

He ignored my tone which I know was deliberate. Something he inherited from his sire, "You're actually reducing. Practically vanishing before my eyes!"

There was a reason for that. Ever since I found my love for reading I considerably decreased the amount of my food consumption. I didn't find any time to eat. The time when I wasn't reading or being educated I spent it playing with Howwie. So the physical activity and lessened eating lead to my weight loss. I was still a bit soft without any knobby elbows and knees. I didn't notice but I started to feel more ease with my new shape. I could curl up more comfortably in a chair while reading, I didn't get breathless faster and Nan didn't have to alter my frocks to loosen them. Quite the opposite.

"Can't you make your clock go faster?"

"I'll add that extra prayer from now on." I sighed like I was enduring his presence.

He chuckled, "You sometimes act and sound like a duchess. All haughty and wise."

"Really." I asked without interest.

"Yes." He chuckled again, soflty, "Funnily, you remind me of my mother. You have her same coloring."

"That is funny, Robert Baratheon, and disturbing beyond measure."

He stiffened beside me. Probably noticed at last the sudden difference in my tone and demeanor. "Don't subject me to your non existent superior airs. And don't take that tone with me, Lyanna."

"I wouldn't dare, my lord."

He cursed under his breath and sat facing towards me. I turned to the next page. I felt his stare itching my scalpwhen he finally said, "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm listening."

"Are you going to keep on acting disrespectful and stay emerged in that God damned book?"

"My apologies, my lord." Not even moving a finger to close my book. How dare he talk to me like he owned me?

"Merda!" He muttered loudly then he clamped his large hand and pulled my arm to turn me. He brought us closer and spoke through clenched teeth, "I do not like these walls you've erected for us."

"My lord, I'm bearing with your presence because I do not to wish to cause a scene for my family." I jerked free of his hold, "But I will no longer tolerate your behavior."

'I am not an immoral female.'

'I am not an immoral female.'

'I will never let him touch me again.'

I dismissed him by shuffling further away from him and returning to my book.

He stood with an angry huff and snatched my book from my hands. "You do not ignore me!" He growled loudly. "You will not dismiss me like I am nothing!"

My eyes were only on my book, "Give it back Robert Baratheon."

"That is so fucking like you! You always called me that! Never by my Christian name! I adore you and that is how you repay?" He noticed me reaching for my book. "And stop looking at this bloody book and Look. At. Me." He shouted at my face and then flung my book in the pond.

"No!" I ran till edge and watch it break the water's surface with a splash. "No. No. No!"

I now had angry tears in my eyes when I turned to him, "Why did you do that!? What is wrong with you?"

"You cry and blaze for a book and didn't fucking care when you saw another girl come out of my room?" He yelled at me.

"I didn't because I don't care! I didn't feel a thing about it! And I never will after today!" I whirled around from him in a jerk, with my long hair flying behind me. That gave him ample opportunity to snag his fingers in it and pull. I cried out with pain and came closer to him to ease it.

He cruelly tilted my head up. "You don't care?" He breathed on my face and slowly walked forward making me move back, until my back hit a tree. He angled my head with my hair again and ran his lips along my jaw leaving a wet trail. "You are the only one who is supposed to care, Lia." His lips crushed mine in a brutal onslaught. They sucked, tugged and nipped at mine.

Before breaking away he bit hard on my lower lip enough to make me whimper. "I patiently nurtured your affections for me for all these years, tesoro." Once an endearment then seemed so ugly. I just held his atrociously possessive stare while my tears ran freely down my cheeks. "You do not get to walk away now. All I ever wanted was to be your world. And you WILL keep on thinking me as such."

I turned my head when his head came down for my lips again, "I'll tell my family how you've been treating me. My Papa will kill you."

He laughed against the skin of my neck and pulled down the neck of my dress. He inhaled to take a deep a breath, "mmm heather. Just how i like you." He kissed a trail downwards and bit down on the skin- sucking it in his mouth. "Then," he talked slowly between kisses, " I'll just have to show " Papa" all your letters, Mia Lia. How do you think he's going to react when I tell him his daughter has been acting like a little wanton with her brother's friend?"

One of his hands was roaming my body, touching my chest, stomach and between my legs. I shied away from his touch and buried myself further against the tree. "I never liked your touching me." I said helplessly.

"You crave my touch. Every inch of you. Mine to do with as I please. Leave you, touch you, or hurt you. Anything." He breathed hard next to my ear, "And what's more, you will allow it happily." He bit my earlobe. "I am your world, Lyanna, accept it."

I struggled to free myself, huffing, scratching and pushing. He laughed at my attempt and easily held my arms tight at my sides. "Look at you! You're like a snarling, spitting little kitten." He nipped on my burning cheek. "I understand your anger for now, but you shall come to your senses later, if you know what's good for you."

I vowed at that moment to never let myself feel that helpless again. I never wanted to feel at someone's mercy. My heart hardened at his words. I resented my family for letting him stay under our roof, my brother for befriending him and myself for being so stupid.

Even with my chest heaving I managed a whisper, "I'll scream, Dragaestone. Let go."

He smirked but eventually stepped away. I didnt look at him while I put some distance between us. I tidied my dress silently then wiped my cheeks. From the periphery i saw he was leaning negligently against the same tree. I stared at the place where he threw my book and recalled why it was important. The reason it was my favorite was because it was my first book, and it was a present from Elia. I could purchase a new one no doubt but that worn, dogeared book was irreplaceable. It had a note at the end from Elia along with papa's signature for which I harassed him incessantly. I also made , Luwin, Ben and Nan to sign it. Ben because even though he hated spending any time with a girl I loved him in spite of that. Elder siblings are supposed to love and not be cruel to you. I know he felt like an adult when I asked him. Also special, because I still remember his smile. He wrote or rather scribbled barely legibly and kissed my cheek afterwards. See? That book held so many memories and sentimental value that it really was irreplaceable.

"I was going to forget how you treated me. How you manipulated my affections and innocence. I wanted to forgive you for even treating me like one of your whores. I was young and impressionable and you betrayed my trust." He came away from his lazy pose and straightened to his full height at my words. "I will never look at you the same Robert Baratheon. I didn't feel anything before and now..." I seared him with my eyes and let him see everything that I thought of him and with jerky motions wiped my eyes with my sleeve, "...now I loathe you with all my being and wish to never see your face again."

I ran away from him. Minding to avoid the crowds, I escaped without discovery into the library once again. I was still a young girl, my mind was a flurry of confusion but my fear of Papa and losing his regard presided over everything else. I flopped head-first on the couch and bawled my eyes out. My crying had subsided somewhat, when I heard the door open again. For such a big mansion there was no place to hide in privacy. I didn't raise my head but kept it buried in the cushions. I heard footsteps and thanked God they were moving to the other side of the room.

'Maybe a lord came for a stronger spirit.'

Instead of hearing clinking of glasses I heard the creaking noise of someone raising the old piano's fall board.

And then ...magic happened.

It was escaping from the piano and filling the room. It danced along the lines of melancholy and jubilance. But in the end melancholy won and wailed her woes at me. Whispered in my ears, her sympathies about mine. Told me that loneliness is a formidable companion. Urged me to unburden my heart with her lament.

Unbidden tears came to my eyes and I started sobbing a bit loudly. The person missed a note and immediately stopped. I burried my head further in refusing to see pity or disgust at my outburst. This time I heard hesitant footsteps which stopped at my head side. I turned my head away towards the back of the couch. The person waited in silence until finally my tears stopped and I only hiccupped.

"Who hurt you?" His deep voice resonated in the room. I was expecting a "Pardon to intrude..." or even "Why are you crying?" in sympathy. His question seemed so familiar and matter-of-fact as if he would really do something about my problems. But I was beyond any sympathy, politeness or even concern.

"Myself."

He sighed and sat in a nearby chair and after a minute or two he said, "Sometimes I hurt myself too."

"Men don't suffer from hurt but inflict it."

He chuckled softly, "Oh? So young yet so experienced?"

"Shut up." My voice was muffled but my meaning clear. He was silent then he softly asked,

"Who broke you, dove?"

I let out a cynical snort, "I let myself be broken." Then sniffled softly, "What does that say about me? What is wrong with me? Why can't I be..." I stopped and started sobbing again.

When he didn't reply and just sat in silence, I thought he was just a drunk trying to make jolly in his inebriation. I sighed in frustration, "Please just leave. I request you."

I was almost willing to leave myself, but then he rose from his chair and walked behind the sofa. I could feel his eyes behind on my back. He lifted a long lock of my hair and softly murmured, "'Not to unlearn what you have learned is the most necessary kind of learning.' "

He stuffed a soft fabric in my closed fist and left.

I never saw Robert after that day. I did not leave my room for the entire length of his stay in fear of ever bumping into him. The next 2 years I went to spend my months with Elia if I ever heard that Ned was coming with his friends. Ned himself seemed a bit watchful too, because after some time his stopped bringing his friends altogether. He never confronted me, but I had a feeling he knew something.

For me, it was like Robert Baratheon never existed, and he probably never did. Not for me. His presence didn't extract the air out of my body or made my blood hum. He never made me so at ease that I'd feel like floating in the air. I was never in love with him. He just stopped existing for me.

I have a secret to tell. Well, one of many, I suppose. I still have that handkerchief and nobody knows about it. I like the feel of it on my skin and love to run a finger on the embroidered initials on the corner and think whenever I grow a little everyday, 'What would he say about me now?'.

'R. B. T.'


"Cara, when are you going to grow up?"

"I already did."