Chapter 6
3 days earlier
Jon took a sip out of his wine goblet, eyeing the table in the small dining hall. Everything was ready for dinner, Tyrion and Lady Helena should arrive soon. This had felt like a proper place for the first meeting with his soon-to-be bride, but now Jon hesitated. Was he honestly planning to propose to a stranger?
Of course he understood the sacrifices all kings had to make, but this… He couldn't believe he had actually agreed to this. Tyrion had assured him that he was doing the right thing and deep down Jon knew that too. Right thing for the kingdom. What was right for him personally didn't matter. He needed a wife and as much as he would have wanted to postpone the decision, he had understood that he really couldn't do that.
Many lords, merchants and other wealthy and powerful men had already approached him, offering their daughters, sisters or nieces to him as wives or mistresses. Even couple of servant girls had offered themselves to him, hoping to earn a place as his mistress. The whole thing made Jon uncomfortable and that was one of the reasons why he had decided to wed Lady Helena.
The marriage would be useful and he wouldn't have to deal with these ambitious men and women anymore. Of course he needed the lady's consent first, even though Tyrion had assured him that she would say yes. Jon had caught a glimpse of her in the garden two days ago when she had been taking a walk with her uncle. Neither of them had noticed Jon, he had been standing in the balcony, observing Lady Helena.
Jon couldn't deny that he wouldn't have been able to make his decision, if he wouldn't have seen her first. As Tyrion had said, she was a pretty young woman who had round face, long dark brown hair and green eyes. She was quite short, but he had noticed that she had a womanly body. There was nothing wrong with her appearance and he believed that he would be able to share a bed with her. Hopefully she would feel the same way about him.
"Your Grace," a servant stated, cutting off Jon's thoughts. "Lord Tyrion and Lady Helena are here."
"Good," Jon murmured and rose up from his seat. "Good. Send them in."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Instinctively Jon touched his hair and cleared his throat. He hadn't really paid much attention to his appearance after becoming the King, but tonight he had tried to make himself look presentable. His personal servant Jareth had shaved him and combed his hair after he had taken a much needed bath.
His tunic was dark blue; the tailors had made it especially for him. Tyrion had arranged him a brand new wardrobe, fit for a king. That was another thing Jon wouldn't have paid attention to, he hadn't had to think about his clothes before. Of course he had to now; he couldn't wear anything when he met nobles.
"Your Grace," Tyrion greeted Jon as he and Lady Helena entered the room. "May I present my niece, Lady Helena Baratheon."
She kept her eyes on the floor as she curtsied.
"Your Grace," she said quietly. Most of her long hair was down and she was wearing a light purple gown that complimented her curves, especially her bosom. A pretty girl indeed.
Jon walked over to her and touched her small hand briefly with his lips.
"My lady. I'm glad to finally meet you."
"I am honored to meet you, Your Grace," she replied. She still wasn't looking at him, he could sense her nervousness. Well, most women would probably be nervous in a situation like this.
"Please," he said and gestured towards the table.
"Thank you," she said as he pulled out a chair for her.
Jon's place was at the end of the table, hers next to him. Tyrion sat on Jon's other side and thanked a servant who poured him wine.
"What a day," he sighed. "Helena and I went to the orphanage today."
"Oh," Jon murmured.
"Yes, poor little things. I was thinking that Helena could start aiding them on my behalf; I have so much work to do. Someone needs to organize the food deliveries and other things."
"Sure, that sounds good," Jon replied and looked at Lady Helena. "Is that what you want, my lady?"
"Yes, Your Grace," she said quietly. Her eyes were on her wine goblet, she seemed tense.
Tyrion continued chatting as the dinner was being served. Clearly Lady Helena wasn't very talkative. She had changed a lot since Jon had met her in Winterfell. Of course she had, she had been a prisoner for years.
"Are you satisfied with your chambers, my lady?" Jon asked when Tyrion stopped talking for a brief moment.
"Yes, Your Grace, I am very grateful for your hospitality."
"This is your home, my lady; that haven't changed."
"Thank you, you are very kind."
"Oh no," Tyrion gasped and quickly stood up. "I forgot there's something I must do, please excuse me. I will be right back."
Jon almost rolled his eyes when Tyrion left the room. How subtle.
"The stew is wonderful," Lady Helena said after a moment of silence.
"Aye. The southern food isn't so bad."
"What is the northern food like, Your Grace?"
"Simpler," Jon replied."Many things in the north are simpler than here."
"I see. You have a heavy burden to bear."
"As we all."
They were both quiet for a long while until Jon finally continued.
"I trust your uncle told you why I invited you here."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Jon bit his bottom lip and looked at her.
"My lady… I want you to know that I wouldn't force you into anything, please speak freely. Is marrying me something you would be willing to consider?"
"Yes, Your Grace," she murmured, keeping her eyes on the table.
"Could you please look at me?"
Slowly she looked up and met his gaze.
"Is this marriage what you want?" he asked.
She blinked and nodded.
"It is, Your Grace."
"Alright." He paused and took a deep breath. "We don't know one another yet, but I believe we can do this together."
"I believe so too, Your Grace."
"You may call me Jon if we are to be married."
"Thank you… Jon."
Just like that it was done. This woman would be his wife. Jon emptied his goblet and tried his best to give his bride a polite smile. She smiled as well, but her smile was just as forced as his.
