Power and Control
Genna watched her young good-niece as she dealt with the members of Casterly Rock's household. She smiled to herself. The gods had seen it fit to curse both Genna and Lyarra with the body of women, yet they had granted them both brilliant minds, match for any man. Perhaps that was why Genna had grown so fond of the little wolf. Lyarra Stark was so similar to how Genna was at that age – wilful, intelligent, and oh-so capable. Had it not been for their sex, they could have conquered the world.
But Genna made sure to remind herself that her nephew's wife was of an enemy house. Though she refused to treat Lyarra any differently because of her family's treachery, she was cautious of what was said around her, a trait that the rest of the household did not seem to share.
"My lady, we have received some... worrying reports," Maester Creylen said, sharing a grave look with Peckledon.
"What kind of worrying reports?" Lyarra prompted, placing her pen in the inkpot and giving the two men her full attention.
Peckledon shared another looked with the maester before letting a heavy sigh escape his lips. "As you may know, for the last decade the gold mines have been producing less and less gold. Well, we have come to the point where most of our mines are dried out."
"Except for one, my lady," Maester Creylen added. "The gold mines situated in the Golden Tooth are still relatively plentiful."
Genna looked between the two men, a scowl on her face as she glared at them both. "I must stop you both there. I mean no offense, Lyarra, but it must be said that as you hail from House Stark and you are a new member to House Lannister, you should not be privy to such sensitive information."
If Genna did not have such watchful eyes, she would not have noticed the quick flash of irritation across Lyarra's face. The two men looked between the two women anxiously. Lyarra coughed to break the silence. "Well, they've said it now. There's no use debating whether I should know something when I already do." Hesitantly, Genna nodded her agreement. Lyarra continued. "The Golden Tooth... the seat of House Lefford, I believe?"
"Very good, my lady," Maester Creylen complimented.
"Their lord is at odds with House Lannister at the moment, if I am correct. A dispute about the rate of tax." Maester Creylen and Peckledon nodded. Genna narrowed her eyes at Lyarra, wondering how the girl got so much information. "I don't believe Lord Lefford will be willing to let us increase our share in his mines. We're already taking more than we're owed."
"Which is still not enough to keep House Lannister standing," Peckledon told her. "I've studied the accounts. We need to find a new source of income, what with the long summer coming to an end."
"Indeed," Lyarra said. She was a Stark and they understood better than anyone how important it was to prepare for winter. "Perhaps we should look into repairing Castamere."
"What good would that do?" Genna asked her good-niece. Castamere had been destroyed and flooded many years ago, when she was a young girl.
"There were gold and silver mines beneath Castamere, were there not?" She looked to the maester for an answer. He nodded, watching the young lady closely as she excitedly explained her plan. "Of course, repairing Castamere would take time and investment, but we would most certainly end up with a profit."
"But the gold must be ruined. It has been soaking in water for the last four decades," Genna argued. There must be a reason as to why Tywin hadn't repaired Castamere by now.
"Water has little effect on gold, I think." Again, she looked to Maester Creylen for affirmation.
"Its worth might have decreased slightly, but the sheer amount of gold and silver beneath Castamere would make up for that, and then some!" the maester replied. He seemed to be excited by this project of Lyarra's. "I think it is an excellent idea!"
"If it is as simple as you claim," Genna spoke again, sceptical of Lyarra's plan, "then why didn't Tywin repair Castamere himself?"
"Because it wasn't necessary before," Lyarra replied. "For the last fifty years, House Lannister has been without a doubt the richest house in Westeros. This news is worrying. We have to find a way to get more gold. It may take a few years to clear the ruins of the keep and then drain the mines, perhaps a decade, but once the mines have been repaired, we will have a new source of income that may last another century."
"Or more," Maester Creylen said, his tone bright and chipper. "The Reyne's boasted about the large quantity of gold beneath their keep very often at feasts. Just before the rebellion, Lord Reyne bragged that, even though they had greatly increased productivity in their mines in the decade before, they had mined just barely a hundredth of the minerals beneath their keep."
"Tywin must have known this," Genna pointed out. "If he knew how valuable the mines were, why did he flood them? My brother is a sensible man. He would not have been so foolish."
"Lord Tywin flooded the mines of Castamere during a time when House Lannister did not have to worry about the gold mines of Casterly Rock running out. Back then, we did not have the equipment we have now. We couldn't even imagine the brilliant technology we are blessed with today!" Maester Creylen explained. For some reason, the man had always annoyed her. He thought he knew everything and, what was worse, there seemed to be nothing he wasn't knowledgeable about. "Castamere served as a brilliant reminder to all the western houses and, indeed, every house in Westeros, of the might of House Lannister. But I fear that the days when we could afford to be so senseless with riches are over now. Peck, will you make the arrangements? We must get started on this project straight away."
"Will you not write to Tywin to ask his permission?" Genna asked Lyarra.
The young Lady Lannister became pensive, biting her lip as she considered what she should do. "I don't believe that is necessary, Aunt Genna. Lord Tywin gave us leave to do whatever we thought was best for the Westerlands. As long as you are agreeable..."
Genna wasn't sure what to think. It sounded like a brilliant plan, but Genna wondered why a man like Tywin, who was so intelligent and sensible, did not think of such a great opportunity. Genna sighed, knowing that time was indeed gold when it came to resurrection of Castamere's mines. She nodded her approval. "I am agreeable. Make the arrangements as quick as possible, Peckledon. If we invest enough money, we might be able to get the mines open before winter."
"You seem unsure, Lord Peckledon," Lyarra pointed out, eyeing the steward carefully.
"I do not doubt that it is a brilliant project, my lady, but I would to raise a concern with you, if I may."
"Of course," she allowed.
"Repairing the mines of Castamere solves our long-term financial problems. If we continue to live the way we are now and make no cuts, both in our household and on wider scale, in four years time I have estimated that House Lannister will only have two hundred dragons to it's name. We need either find a quick way to improve our finances and make significant cuts to our way of living," Peck explained. "Of course, I will leave the decision to you both." He nodded towards Genna and Lyarra.
"How are the tax rates in the Westerlands?" Lyarra asked Peck.
"Quite low," Peck answered. "We haven't needed to exact much tax from the smallfolk or the nobility. I believe the general tax rate among goods and services is five percent."
"Much lower than in any of the other kingdoms," Creylen stated. Genna found herself irritated again by the mere sound of his voice.
"What would happen if we were to raise the tax rate to, say, twenty percent?" Lyarra wondered.
Peckledon considered her question for a moment before he replied. "The smallfolk would be very displeased, of course. Though I have half a mind to think that our people are the most affluent in all Seven Kingdoms. If any smallfolk in any of the kingdoms can afford to pay a high rate of tax, it is the western smallfolk. Most earn twenty-five dragons a year."
"In the North the average man earns ten," Lyarra responded. "The rate of tax is much higher too. Thirty percent. Lord Peckledon, can I trust you to speak with the tax collectors? I suppose we should impose the increase in tax slowly. Fifteen percent for the next six months before it goes to twenty. And we shouldn't tax bread. That would hit the poorest very hard."
"Very good, my lady," he agreed. "Though I do not think increasing tax will be enough to ensure House Lannister stays in good wealth."
Lyarra bit her lip, thinking hard about what else they could do. Genna watched as her eyes lit up with an idea. "It would be unfair to expect the smallfolk to bear the brunt of our declining finances. Would it make much a difference if we were to restrict the amount of goods being imported from the Free Cities? Importing fineries such as silk and linen puts our local seamstresses and cloth makers out of work. I think it would improve our economy and the amount of tax we receive."
Peckledon wrote what she said down while nodding. "I will write to our foreign trade-partners tonight to tell them that we will not be importing as much anymore."
"Thank you, my lord. If that is all..." She waited, allowing for either Peck or Creylen to speak up, before she gave them both a smile and gave them leave.
As soon as she heard the door shut and was sure the two men were out of hearing distance, Lyarra turned to Genna, a worried look on her face. "How did I do?"
Genna smiled at the young girl and took her hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze. "Excellently. I quite believe that you have impressed them both."
"I wasn't sure about Castamere," Lyarra said. "Was that a good idea? Will Lord Tywin be displeased with me?"
"Probably," Genna admitted. Her good-niece visibly shrunk because of her words, her face becoming taut with worry. "I was unsure at first, but you managed to win me over. I'm sure you'll do the same with Tywin. And if he does not see reason, he will be able to look at the accounts and see how helpful rebuilding Castamere is to our finances!"
Lyarra smiled shyly. She's just a child, in truth. Doll-faced and desperate for reassurance. Genna patted her hand. "You did well. I would tell you if you didn't, rest assured of that!"
"I hope you will," Lyarra said. "I want to be a good regent."
"And I fear you must be. This is your chance to prove yourself, Lyarra. To Tywin, to the household, to the western lords. If you do not preform well, you will not get this opportunity again." Lyarra gulped. Genna sighed and spoke more softly. "You are judged twice as harshly because of the simple fact that you're a woman. That means that you must work twice as hard as any man, my dear, to achieve the same acknowledgement as a half decent man. It's unfair, but that is how it is. Are you prepared to work twice as hard?"
"Three times, if needs be," Lyarra replied, nodding her head eagerly. "I want to prove myself."
Genna smiled at her young good-niece, seeing herself in those wide grey eyes.
"I don't know how any ruling lord does it," Lyarra complained as she and Genna made their way towards the Great Hall. Once a week, Lyarra had to sit in front of a crowd – made up of both smallfolk and nobles – and listen to their grievances. Such an event was called a 'petition.' Lyarra found the whole ordeal terribly boring. "The thought of having to listen to petitions for the rest of my life would be enough to make me wish that it would end quicker. Death would be more exciting than listening to to some entitled lordling complain about how he's been robbed out of half an acre of land."
"It is a very important duty of any ruler of any region – however large or small. Though I understand how bothersome it is." Lyarra felt Genna's watchful gaze on her again. Anything she did or said, Genna was there to comment on how well she did. At first she felt as though she needed the reassurance. Now, as she was beginning to consider herself to be a capable ruler, it was becoming irritating. Genna continued on. "Hearing petitions is what bridges the connection between lord and subject. If a ruler was to neglect that duty, the bridge would crumble."
"I understand," Lyarra assured her, trying her best to hide her irritation. The nobles and smallfolk bowed to her and Genna as they walked inside. Lyarra walked up to the head table and took her seat at the centre, which was once occupied by Lord Tywin, with Genna on her left. She felt odd in Lord Tywin's seat. It didn't help that her feet couldn't even touch the ground.
"Let us begin," Lyarra called, reciting the words Genna had drilled into her head so many weeks again. A man, dressed in the clothing of a lord, stepped forward and bowed to her. Two girls followed at his heel. They were Lyarra's age, perhaps younger. Watching the three with wary eyes, Lyarra inclined her head in greeting. "What grievance have you come to share with me?"
"A considerable one, my lady," the man began. Lyarra took a better look at the two girls. Their faces were coloured by black and blue bruises. Lyarra diverted her attention back to the man, her stomach churning with worry. "My name is Ser Willam Cregg. I live in a keep on the border between the Riverlands and Casterly Rock, though I am loyal to House Lannister. I served as Ser Kevan's squire in my youth."
"I have heard great things of you, ser, namely of your impressive skill in battle," she replied, remembering Jaime pointing out the large, buff man at her nameday feast months ago.
"I am honoured, my lady," Ser Willam said, inclining his head towards her. "It is because of my devout loyalty to House Lannister and the trust I have in your house, that I have come to Casterly Rock to ask for justice." He paused for a moment and licked his lips. "My lands were pillaged by the Mountain. My crops burnt. Ser Gregor Clegane attacked my soldiers, broke into my keep, insulted my honour by accusing me of being loyal to House Tully, and, worst of all, raped my daughters while they were in their beds!" One of the girls began to weep while the others stared at the wall, a blank expression on her face. "I have brought them before you today to show you what the brute has done to my daughters. Girls, show Lady Lannister your arms."
The girl who has weeping began to weep even louder as she and her sister showed Lyarra their bruised arms. There were cuts along them as well and marks made by rough hands. Lyarra felt sick to the stomach. Lyarra gulped and nodded to the two girls. They both pulled their shawls over their shoulders again.
"While I must express my sincerest sympathy and, quite frankly, my utmost horror at what has been done to your daughters, it is not my place to give you justice. That duty lies with your liege lord. Lord Lefford, is it not?"
Ser Willam scoffed. "The man is too craven! I presented my grievances before him and my daughters and he refused to give me justice! That is why I came to you, my lady, in the hopes that you would exact justice for the crimes done against me and my daughters. But if you will not, then I will find justice for myself."
"Lord Lefford has wronged you, ser. Maester Creylen," she spoke to the maester behind her, "send a summon to Lord Lefford. He has neglected to do his duty to his subject and must answer for it."
"Lord Lefford is here, my lady!" She heard a voice call. The fat, over-confident man she recognised to be Lord Leo Lefford walked towards the head table, standing beside Ser Willam.
"Ser Willam has accused you of neglecting to bring those who have wronged him to justice," Lyarra informed her good-father's bannermen. "That is your duty to your subjects, is it not? To ensure that they receive justice for the crimes committed against them."
"It is, my lady, but as Ser Gregor Clegane is of the same status as I am, I fear it was not my place to bring the Mountain to justice," he replied smoothly, wearing a very relaxed smirk. Lyarra gripped the edge of the table, trying her best to keep her demeanour stony. Showing emotion or getting mad would not serve her reputation well.
"The protocol for situations like this is quite simple, Lord Lefford. You should have either discussed the issue with Ser Gregor or brought Ser Willam's grievance to me immediately, as I am your acting liege lord. Yet you did not. Do you blame ignorance for your inability to perform your duties sufficiently or sheer laziness?" Lyarra felt her blood begin to boil. She knew by looking at Lord Lefford that she had greatly insulted him.
"I will not be lectured on my duties by a mere child whose boots are far too big!" Lord Lefford growled at her. Lyarra blinked at him, startled, but tried her best to look composed and dignified. Inside, however, she was terrified.
"I am your acting liege lord while Lord Tywin is away and you will show me respect," Lyarra commanded him, attempting to keep her voice steady as she raised its tone. Lord Lefford glared at her. "You have proven yourself to be dishonourable and unfit in your treatment of Ser Willam and his daughters. A lord who neglects to give his subjects justice does not deserve to have the title."
"You stand before me, your feet unable to even touch the ground below you, and dare to call me dishonourable when your own father is in a cell for committing treason? While your brother is starting an uprising against the crown? Hypocrisy!"
"It is clear to me, my lord, that you value pride more than morality," Lyarra accused. "Ser Willam will have his justice. I have half a mind to call Ser Gregor back to Casterly Rock and have you both answer for your crimes."
"Crime? I have committed no crime! I will not listen to such hypocrisy, such insults, from Jaime Lannister's child-bride!" Lord Lefford shouted at her. He spat at the ground in front of her, causing Lyarra to flinch.
Before Lyarra could respond to him, Genna leaned in to her ear and whispered, "Think about this, Lyarra. You're acting rash. We need to think about this."
Lyarra froze, her mind becoming a whirlwind as she tried to think of a solution. She turned her attention to the two men once again. "This is a matter too great to be resolved in one conversation. We will reconvene tomorrow, when everyone is hopefully a lot calmer. She gave Lord Lefford a harsh glare, which the older man returned.
"Of course, my lady," Ser Willam bowed to her while Lord Lefford swiftly spun on her heel and stormed out of the Great Hall. The knight left with his daughters and Lyarra was forced to continue hearing petitions, though her mind was still preoccupied with what to do with Ser Willam.
As soon as she and Genna were alone in Lyarra's solar, the older woman advanced on her. "What were you thinking?"
"The man's daughters were raped, his lands pillaged! He deserves justice," Lyarra insisted heatedly.
"Of course he 'deserves' justice," Genna stated, rolling her eyes. "But the world is not so simple, my dear. By giving the hedge knight justice, you are angering a powerful lord. Be smart, make amends with Lord Lefford. Retract your insults."
"I will most certainly not," Lyarra replied. She shook her head vehemently. "That man is vile and a completely useless lord! He needs to be put in his place!"
"That he does," her aunt agreed. Sighing, she sat herself in the seat opposite Lyarra and spoke to her in a much softer tone. "You have a kind heart. I admire you for that, I do. But you must be diplomatic. You cannot put a hedge knight before a loyal bannermen of House Lannister. Ser Gregor Clegane has served us well for the last two decades. Lord Lefford comes from one of the oldest and most prestigious houses in the Westerlands. We must pick our battles well, Lyarra, and this is not one of them."
"Why can't it be?" Lyarra asked, sighing. She leaned back in her chair and rested her hand on her very large stomach. "Why can't we be different?"
Genna chuckled fondly at the young girl, shaking her head in amusement. "An honourable thought. Many have thought as you have. Many have dreamt of change. The ones that survive past thirty are the ones that have been disillusioned. The ones that cling to the idea of reformation are the ones that perish first. You're a clever girl. Make the right choice. This is the decision that will show the western lords just how capable you are. If you make the wrong decision, they will view as Lord Lefford does – as a silly little girl whose feet can barely touch the ground. So what will it be?"
Lyarra found herself at a loss for ideas. She struggled to find a compromise, a way to make sure that both parties were not insulted. Eventually, she made her choice. With a sigh, she nodded her understanding.
If Father saw me now...
Cersei sipped at her wine, head whirling with thoughts as she tried to listen to her son's endless rant. Joffrey had seen it fit to behead Ned Stark, a choice that even Cersei disagreed with. He was justifying his decision to her now, though Cersei found his explanation repetitive. She forgave him for his choice already. He was young – he could be taught how to be a good ruler, they could weed out his impulsive nature. Ned Stark was a mistake. Joffrey would learn. He has to.
"What will you do with Sansa Stark?" Cersei asked him during one of his pauses, before he could start another long-winded rant.
Joffrey blinked at his mother, obviously unsure. It had been a long week. Of course he hadn't given the Stark girl any thought. That was why Cersei wanted to speak with him about her. "Well, what is there to do?" He chuckled. "Unfortunately, I am still bound to her by the gods. She will stay with me in King's Landing and we will wed once she has bled."
"I suppose we have no other choice," Cersei mused. "Though, the High Septon could be persuaded to allow you to break your betrothal. Her father was a traitor."
"No!" Joffrey raised his voice to her, his face turning red with either anger or embarrassment at his outburst. He coughed and said in a calmer voice, "No. I must keep to my word. I will not taint my honour by breaking my oath to Sansa."
You did not keep your word when you decided on a whim to execute Ned Stark. How important was your word then, my son? She pressed her lips together. Her son was the king. Her son would be a great king. It did her no good to get cross with him or question his decisions. "As you wish," she said, another, perhaps more pressing, matter popping into her head. "And what of the girl's sister?"
"The wild beast Arya?"
"No, not her. That animal is unfortunately not ours to deal with," Cersei said. The beast of a girl had run away before her father was killed. "No. I meant the other one. Lyarra. She must be dealt with as well. Her loyalty to us must be affirmed."
"Ah, Jaime's wife," Joffrey grinned, a hint of malice on his lips. Cersei was delighted by the response the mention of Lyarra got from her son. How she wished to see the insolent wolf girl be put in her place. "Yes. You're right, Mother. We cannot allow her the freedom to plot against us."
Smiling, Cersei nodded in agreement. "Good. My father has seen it fit to put a traitor's daughter in charge of Casterly Rock. Ned Stark's daughter defiles my home, your ancestor's home. I have no doubt that she is plotting treason as we speak, turning our own people against us. What will you do?"
Joffrey sat down in front of Cersei, his leg bouncing up and down like an excited child. Cersei grinned at the sight. "I suppose Sansa should like to see her sister again."
"They must not be allowed to speak with each other. The two have bad blood – traitor's blood. But yes, bringing Lyarra Stark to King's Landing is a wise idea," Cersei complimented her son. "Have her swear fealty to you before the Iron Throne, in front of all your subjects. If she does not comply, show the people what happens to those who disobey you. Make an example of her."
Her son grinned. "I will. That is a great idea, Mother. Write to her as soon as possible. I want her to be in King's Landing before she gives birth. Or better yet, lose that wretched child of hers on the way here."
Cersei blinked, surprised at the cruelty in her son's words, but nodded nonetheless. After all, she was thinking the same thing.
"Ser Willam Cregg," the herald announced. The whispers in the Great Hall died as every nobleman in attendance turned their eyes towards the door, watching the walk towards Lyarra.
The man was without his daughters today. Lyarra asked for them not to attend, mostly because she was unable to look the two girls in the eye, knowing that she was denying them their justice. Ser Willam bowed to her. "Lady Lannister."
"Ser Willam," she responded, inclining her head.
"Lord Leo of House Lefford, Lord of the Golden Tooth," the herald called next. Lord Lefford staggered into the Great Hall, an angry scowl upon his face as he approached Lyarra. He gave her a shallow bow and made no attempt at a pleasant greeting. Lyarra shared a look with Genna beside her. The herald called again, "Ser Randor Clegane, who comes to represent his nephew Ser Gregor Clegane."
Lyarra watched Ser Randor closely as he approached her. He was a ridiculously tall man with broad shoulders and a muscular body. Lyarra found him rather threatening. He eyed her before offering Lyarra a low bow. She took a deep breath before speaking to the three men.
"Ser Randor, I thank you for coming on the behalf of your nephew," she addressed him. The man inclined his head. He seemed amicable enough, but Lyarra still found his presence startling. "We have gathered to discuss the unlawful pillaging of Ser Willam Cregg's lands and the rape of his two daughters by Ser Gregor Clegane. I have given this matter much thought and consideration, and I have decided that in compensation for damages done to his lands and his family, Ser Gregor Clegane will pay a substantial fine to Ser Willam Cregg of one hundred dragons. Do you agree to this, Ser Randor?"
"I do." The man nodded his agreement, knowing that his nephew was getting off easy.
All it took was one look at Ser Willam's face and Lyarra felt disgusted with herself. Father taught me to be honourable. To always do the right thing. This is a disgrace. She took a deep breath, not daring to look at Ser Willam. She would not ask if he was agreeable as surely he would not be. One hundred dragons would barely be enough to repair his keep and lands, not to mention the fact that his daughters were now, unfortunately, unfit to be wed because of Ser Gregor's brutality. Genna convinced her that it was the right decision, but if it was, then why did Lyarra feel so disgusted with herself?
"Lord Lefford," she addressed the foul-faced lord first. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Your treatment of Ser Willam Cregg warrants disappointment, of course, but I hope that you have learned your lesson. Your duties as a lord are not to be shirked. If you show such negligence to your subjects again, you will be given due punishment. Do you understand?"
Lord Lefford's glare intensified, his brown eyes blazing with anger, though he managed to grit out through his teeth, "Yes, my lady."
Lyarra flinched at the sight of his angry face. She knew that Lord Lefford would not forget how she humiliated him in front of his peers. She had made an enemy of him. "Good," she forced her voice to remain steady. She stood up. The noblemen followed suit and rose from their seats. "I thank you for your co-operation. My lords." She inclined her head towards them one last time before leaving the Great Hall, conscious of Ser Willam's and Lord Lefford's eyes glaring daggers at the back of her head.
Genna led her to her solar. "You did well," Genna praised her, sitting her down by the fireplace. Lyarra buried her head in her hands. "Though you were too harsh with Lord Lefford."
"Ser Willam deserved justice. I denied him that. I'm no better than Lord Lefford," Lyarra lamented. Genna handed her a glass of water and sat in the seat opposite Lyarra.
"Perhaps not," Genna agreed, causing Lyarra's eyes to widen at her aunt's frankness. "But that is the life of a noble. No ruler is always virtuous. No, allow me clarify – no ruler is both virtuous and successful. You can't make everyone happy, so you must prioritise."
"The only person who ended up happy was Ser Gregor Clegane – the rapist," Lyarra stressed.
"No. The only person who ended up happy was Ser Gregor Clegane – a loyal bannerman of House Lannister. Ser Gregor is too valuable to slight. He is an asset. He inspires fear in our enemies and is a skilled knight and military commander. Tywin sees his worth and so do I, and you must as well," Genna explained. Seeing Lyarra's expression, Genna sighed and continued. "You were raised by an honourable man. Your father is good to his people. He is everything a good man and leader is supposed to be. But the North is a country with a poor economy and little significance. That's what happens when a ruler is too honourable – his country cannot flourish."
"That's not true," Lyarra argued. "There are plenty of honourable men who were good rulers."
"No," the older woman replied, her voice firm. "There are plenty of men who managed to appear honourable. It is an illusion, Lyarra. Honour. When faced with difficult decisions, leaders rightfully choose the easier, most advantageous option, even if it is not morally right. What matters is if anyone can find out."
"That's–" Lyarra was interrupted by a man knocking on the door. She shared a look with Genna before calling out, irritation sharp in her voice, "Come in."
A page boy came rushing in, a letter in his hand, and offered the letter to Lyarra. "From King's Landing, my lady."
Author's Note: I wanted to show how much Lyarra is influenced by her father in how she approaches leadership, and how that doesn't really work in the south. I also didn't want Lyarra to be a brilliant, wise leader at first because she has no training and is only fifteen. I'm hoping it seemed realistic! And what do you guys think of Genna? I really enjoy writing her! Let me know what you think!