Daenerys
It took only the blink of a moment, before the sheep was devoured by Sonarys' blue flames. It was both a beautiful and terrifying sight. Dany knew how powerful dragons can become, but seeing their might with her own eyes was a different matter. Then, as quick as a snake the dragon snapped his head forward and tore a piece of meat out of the animal's body. The other two dragons followed suit, feasting on the blacked corpse as if it was the most delicious meal. This was their second sheep, but Dany had the feeling that this was only the beginning.
They will need more and more food.
"They are hungry," Jon remarked quietly, his dark eyes fixed on the dragons.
"Aye," she confirmed and rose to her feet. Jon remained seated and grasped her hand, a gentle smile playing on his lips. She was unable to pinpoint it, but there was something different about him these days. He was very quiet, more so than usual, always staring off in the distance as if his mind was somewhere else.
"Is something wrong?" she asked him and squeezed his hand.
"It is full moon," he said and pointed at the sky. A fat autumn moon hung over the dusky horizon, streaked in red and velvet.
"I can see that," she replied, a little confused by his statement. There was nothing special about it."What you trying to say?"
"I will tell you," he assured her with a smile. "But we should get going or they will close the gates before we return from our hunting adventure. "I trust that Lirla takes good care of Aemon, but I doubt you want to spend the night out in the wilderness."
Dany was both confused and amused by his secrecy.
"Then let us go," she replied and returned his smile.
Her answer seemed to please him greatly. Then he pulled her along towards his horse. They rode here together, though Dany knew by now how to properly handle her horse. Larsha took her for daily rides and Jon took her hunting whenever he had time to spare. She liked that, because out in the wilderness they could be alone. She liked Tito's family, but there was always someone there watching them. It was hard to find privacy.
Usually, it was her idea to go hunting, but today Jon asked her to join him. It warmed her heart to hear this, for she missed him every time he left to ride out with Tito's men. Especially, with the sighting of the Dothraki horde she worried for him. What Jon felt on this matter was like mystery to her. He was always courteous and helpful, but he hardly ever spoke with her about things that bother him. Reading his moods was just as difficult. He was not the kind of man who carried his feeling on his sleeves.
They rode for another hour, passing hills and plains of green and yellow pasture. Night had fallen when they arrived at a small wooden area. Dany had never dared to venture this far from the city, but Jon seemed completely at ease. Maybe it was Ghost's presence that assured him. He was now nearly as big as a horse. He could easily carry a dainty girl like her, though she doubted the wolf would appreciate it.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" he asked and climbed from the saddle. Dany was still confused, but it was true what he said. This piece of land was very beautiful. The woods were littered with rich green grass, old trees, bent and crooked, but beautiful in their own way. Especially, the red flowers strewn over the meadow gave the landscape the appearance of a colourful painting.
"Very beautiful," she agreed and felt a soft breeze touching her skin. A pair of butterflies hovered over the knee-high grass right above Ghost's head. The wolf seemed bothered by them and sniffed viciously. "But is this also a good place to hunt?
"I will show you," he told her and pulled his belongings from his saddle. He always had his sword and his hunting gear fixed on his saddle, though they hadn't even used it. First they went to feed the dragons and now they came here, but Dany saw no animals to hunt.
Quietly, he pulled her along through the grass towards the woods. The whispering of the wind could be heard as they stumbled over the underwood and foliage. The trees here looked ancient, some of their trunk as thick as a several men.
At last they stopped at some sort of a clearing. The beauty of it left her gasping for air. There was a massive tree, its bark pale like snow and its leaves painted in different colours of yellow and red. The moonlight falling through the tree tops gave the bark an appearance of ivory.
"I promised you a pretty tree, didn't I?" he asked her and smiled proudly.
Finally, she understood what he meant.
It should at least be a pretty tree, he had told her when they spoke about marriage. That was now nearly four moons ago and she thought he had forgotten about it.
I am a fool, she thought and squeezed his hand.
"You did," she confirmed and graced him with an amused smile. "Though it took you long enough."
He shrugged his shoulders and slung his arm around her shoulder.
"I kept watching out for the perfect tree and a week ago I finally found this one. This one looks a bit like a weirwood tree…the bark has a similar colour, though the leaves of a weirwood tree are much brighter. They also have a faces carved in the trunk."
"Truly?" she asked, fascinated. "Who carved the faces?"
"Old Nan used to tell us that it was the work of the Children of the Forest," he explained and beamed. He always lost his serious countenance whenever he spoke about his family and home, though it was a seldom enough that he spoke about his family. She met his brother Robb, but she couldn't bring herself to like him. She knew that he had four other siblings, but she only knew the name of his younger sister, the one that likes him. Arya she is called and she likes playing with swords. Dany asked him several times about his little sister, but whenever she did he grew sad and thus she decided to avoid it. She told herself that he would eventually tell her about it when he is comfortable enough. Thus hearing him speak about his home filled him with relief.
"That sounds interesting," she added softly and jerked her head at the tree. "But I doubt that is why you brought me here. Now that we finally found a tree…Is there some sort of ceremony?"
"There is," he confirmed and led her closer towards the tree. "Usually it is just an exchange of vows, though I don't recall the exact wording. The truth is…I have never attended a real wedding. My Lord Father never took his bastard to weddings," he explained. It was only subtle, but she heard the bitterness ringing through his facade. She hardly knew Lord Stark, but she couldn't help but to be angry on Jon's account whenever he spoke about his life as a bastard.
"Then we will do what you can remember. I don't need a ceremony or vows," she assured him and lifted his hand to her lips.
"We can make up vows if you don't recall them. Let me try…I swear before the gods and that this man is mine and I am his… from this day till the end of our days," she continued and blushed a little. "I am fond of poetry, but as you can see…I am no great poet either. What do you think of my vows?"
He chuckled and held her closer. "I like it. I swear before the gods that this woman is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of our days," he declared and leaned down to kiss her eagerly. It stirred up the familiar feeling of warmth between her legs, yet she also felt also a hint of fear.
It had been a long time that they had lain with each other, though that was her fault. She had told him that Aemon's birth made it uncomfortable for her. He accepted it, but it didn't help to ease her sense of guilt.
In truth, it was only half a lie. The first moons after her son's birth she had felt pain, but a moon ago the pain finally disappeared, but she feared having another child. Aemon was a mere babe. She wouldn't want to leave him motherless. She had few memories of her brother Viserys, but she recalled clearly how much their mother's death haunted him.
She had yet to tell Jon about Aemon's difficult birth, but she feared his reaction.
His mother died in childbirth, she recalled. I can't burden him with this guilt.
"Daenerys," he addressed her in her full name and pulled away when he noticed that she had stopped moving. He sounded serious, the smile banished from his lips and his hand resting on her cheek. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," she assured him and smiled. "I was just thinking. Is there something else we forgot?"
He frowned, but answered nonetheless.
"Usually the bride and groom kneel beneath the weirwood tree to receive the blessing of the old gods, though that wouldn't make much sense here. This tree is not dedicated to the old gods," he explained and jerked his head at the tree."But I have something else for you. A gift."
"A gift?" she asked and it relieved her to see a smile on his lips. "For me?"
"Tito said it is common among his people to give each other gifts on their wedding day," Jon explained and let go of her hand. Then he made his way back to his horse and rummaged through his hunting gear. Only when he stepped into the moonlight was she able to make out what he had searched for.
"A bow," she said and marvelled at its beauty. It was made of a pale bark…like the tree. "Is it made from the same wood?"
"Exactly," he replied and held the bow out to her. "I thought it fitting."
Dany stared at him for a moment, speechless. He carried an expectant look, but she didn't know what to say. She trembled and stared at the bow and then back at Jon.
"I don't have a gift for you," she said, close to tears, though it were happy ones.
"Gods…don't cry," he remarked and frowned. "I didn't know that this would upset you…besides you already gave me a gift."
"I have?" she asked, a little confused by his answer. "What gift did I give you?"
"Our son," he replied and smiled warmly. "I never thought I have a son of my blood, but that is not the only gift. Without you I would be at the Wall, alone and forgotten. I never thought I would have a family…at least not like this."
Dany didn't know what to say. She could only stare at him in disbelief.
"I am your family?" she asked, searching his face.
"Of course you are," he assured her and brushed his hand through her locks. "Now take your gift. I am sure you will make good use of it."
"I will," she assured him in a trembling voice and took the bow from his hand. It was a slender thing, the wood soft and smooth like a polished sword. It was a far too precious gift and she touched like as if it was a precious jewel."I will."
As if cast in a dream she made her way back to the horse and placed the bow in the bag, containing her hunting gear.
Then she turned around and pulled off her cloak. Underneath she only wore her pale wool dress and her sandals.
He smiled at her as he moved closer, his hand wandering through her hair. It was now nearly as long as her chin, though she doubted he cared about that.
She leaned closer, her face tilting into is neck. He wrapped his arms around smoothed his hand over her shoulder.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Aye," she assured him and pulled back to kiss him, slow and gentle. His grip tightened on her shoulders as he deepened the kiss. Together they stumble to the ground, the grass soft, almost like a featherbed.
His body sinks on top of her as they continued to kiss, his thigh sliding between her legs. The familiar feeling of warmth stirred inside her.
Carefully, he opened the buttons of her dress and pulled it aside. He kissed her breasts, before moving lower. His warmth breath tickled her stomach, only to move further down.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, confused by his actions. "Are you trying to find out if I am ticklish?"
He chuckled, his face half lit by the moonlight.
"Just an idea," he added and pushed up her dress. The touch of the night air felt cold on her skin.
He laughed again, his breath tickling the inside of her thighs. "Have a bit of patience."
"Patience…," she muttered, her words swallowed by gasp. The soft touch of his mouth was a foreign sensation that overwhelmed her. It made her shut her eyes close as the current of pleasure washed over her. They had thought her how to pleasure man that way, but she never knew that it could be done the other way around.
"Jon," she called out too him when it was too much and grasped his hair, pulling hard. Yet he didn't stop, or maybe he didn't hear her. Maybe her voice died in her mouth. It was almost too much, the warm sensation overwhelming, as the wave of pleasure came crushing down on her.
She was still struggling for breath when Jon lifted his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were dark, glinting like the coals in a brazier.
"Who thought you that?" she asked, both curious and stunned.
"No one," he replied, his voice lith with amusement. "I just wanted to kiss you there. Did you like it?"
It was such a silly question, she couldn't help but to laugh.
"Of course I liked it…it is just…they thought us such things in the place I grew up…it is strange having a man do it," she tried to explain her thoughts and slipped her hand downwards to touch him.
He gasped, then laughed against her cheek.
"Well, I suppose that is a compliment," he remarked slightly sardonically, though she knew it was meant in a joking manner.
"I meant it," she replied and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. He laughed and she silenced him with a kiss. He returned her kiss and he allowed her to sit on top of him.
She felt no pain as she mounted him. It felt right and she savored the sensation. Yet it was the warmth in his eyes that unraveled her. She knew then that his words were not empty talk. He meant it when he said that she is part of his family. His smile was never this soft as he sat up and held her in his arms.
Even after he had collapsed next to her she still felt his hands stroking through her hair, though he was half asleep. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but whenever she opened her mouth she was unable to find the right words. Where she came from people don't speak about their wishes or the future. They only think of the next day.
"Jon," she asked him. "Tell me about your home."
Jon lifted his head, surprise apparent on his face.
"What brought this on?"
"Nothing," she assured him quietly. "I should know about your family. Maybe we will go back there one day."
He beamed.
"You think that is possible?"
His question surprised her. He sounded almost like a little boy and she wanted to give him a happy lie, but that wouldn't serve them.
"Yes," she answered and averted her gaze. "But it would be hard to accomplish. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"
Instantly, his face changed back to its usual solemn expression.
"The dragons would never be tolerated in the North," he told her and kissed her brow."But I am not Aegon the Conqueror nor do I want to be. I don't want to drench the Seven Kingdoms in blood just to win a crown that doesn't belong to me. I would have to fight my own brother and Uncle. I can't do that."
"I never asked that of you," she replied quietly. "But the dragons will continue to grow. There will be people who will try to take them away."
"True," he agreed unhappily. "And that is why we need to learn to control them. I said I don't want to be Aegon the Conqueror, but that doesn't mean we can't fight those who want to harm us."
"Us?" she asked, his words alarming. "What do you mean?"
"I am talking about the Dothraki," he told her, his voice taking an almost icy tone. "You have not seen what they do. I will not sit idle while they rape and murder people who have shown us nothing but kindness."
"The dragons are small," she countered fearfully. "Arrows could hurt them and even I know that the Dothraki are terrifying bowmen."
"True," he said and shrugged his shoulders. "But the Dothraki are also hot-headed. We could lure them into a trap."
She frowned. She had never seen a real battle. Yet she didn't want to appear a craven.
I am the blood of the dragon.
"And you think we could really win?"
"Maybe," he answered. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Though the dragons wouldn't be enough. I would need the help of Lhazareen warriors, but Tito thinks that the tribes won' fight. Besides, why should they trust a foreigner?"
She could only nod her head in agreement. She lived it every day. The other women were kind to her, but she will always be an outsider. So much is clear.
Maybe that is why Jon longs for Winterfell.
"Jon," she said at last and intent to returned to. "Tell me about Winterfell…tell me about your home."
A brief moment of silence passed, but then he nodded his head.
"What do you want to know?"
She pondered his question and pursed her lips.
"Tell me about Arya."
...
She woke when the first sunlight fell through the slanted windows. Jon was still asleep, his warm body nestled beside her. Carefully, she rose from her bed and pulled on a robe.
Quietly, she made her way to Aemon's crib and found him still asleep. It was no surprise. He hardly ever woke before the sun had risen to the sky. It would be no problem to slip away for an hour and Jon knew how to feed him with sheep milk.
Out on the corridor she met several of Tito's relatives. She greeted them and made her way up the curling staircase.
Upon her entrance she found Tito's mother at work, squashing leaves with a pestle. She was also devoid of her usual pale robes and garbed in a green dress. The front was covered with old stains of blood and other substances she was unable to identify. It was not the first time that she came here, but her collection of books, herbs and other strange utensils never failed to fascinate her.
When Tito told her that his mother is some sort of a midwife she expected one of these women who came to Lady Meema's brothel, but it was clear to her that Tito's mother was more than a common midwife. Never once did she see a midwife keeping notes on her patients or able to mix complicated potions like this. Whoever thought her must have been a professional one, like one of the Maesters Jon told her about.
"There you are, child," she greeted her and graced her with a smile.
"I have your potion over here," she added and rose to her feet, before making her way to a small table filled with all kinds of bottles. They were marked with foreign signs of black ink.
"This one is yours," Tito's mother remarked and handed her a blue bottle. When she first came here she expected to get something bitter like moon tea, but the teas she received from Tito's mother tasted almost like common tea. She felt the urge to ask her more questions. She knew next to nothing about her body besides what other girls told her.
"Is something wrong, child?" Tito's mother asked, worry written all over her face. "You look pale. Was the last tea too strong?"
"No," she assured her quickly, trying to overplay her insecurity. Then she bit her lips, torn between baring her fears to her. She was a woman, if anyone would understand her it would be someone as kind as her. "I just wondered…you know much about childbirth, don't you?"
She gave her an amused smile.
"I brought more than thousand children into the world," she replied, though not pridefully."I think I know what I am doing, child. Do you want me to take a look at you?"
Dany didn't know why, but she felt a little embarrassed.
"Look at me?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "I assume the birth of your boy wasn't the most pleasant experience?"
Dany was stunned.
"How can you tell?"
"Your hips," she replied as if it was all too clear. "You are rather young. How old are you?"
"Nearly ten and five," she answered. "What do my hips have to do with my age?"
"You are still growing," she explained and patted on a cushioned seat on the floor. "Some bodies need longer to be prepared for the trials of childbirth, though some stubborn husbands do not understand that."
Dany settled down cushioned seat, but felt the need to defend Jon.
"He didn't force me into anything…I wanted Aemon…I just didn't know that it would be this painful," she explained honestly.
"All births are painful," Tito's mother explained. "But there is a difference between painful and deadly," she continued to explain and pulled up her dress. Gently, she spread her legs and inspected her closely. Dany tried not to wince, but soon she forgot about her discomfort.
"Did you bleed?" Tito's mother asked and lifted her head to meet her gaze.
"Aye, quite a lot," she confirmed anxiously.
"I see," she replied and patted her knee. "I am surprised you are still alive. It is as I thought. Your hips are yet too small."
"Yet?"
"Don't fret, child," Tito's mother assured her and pulled the dress back down. "You are completely healthy, but I would advise having another child in the next two years. By then you should be grown enough. And my tea has yet to fail me."
Dany nodded her head in understanding.
"How do you know all this?"
Tito's mother laughed and made her way to the hearth. She picked the pot of steaming water from the fire and filled it into two cups placed on a nearby table. Then she rose on her tiptoes and picked a handful of herbs from the bundle hanging above her head. She smashed the herbs between her hands and put them into the tea.
Then she settled down in front of Dany and handed her a cup.
The tea smelled like perfume, a mixture of lavender and something earthy.
"You are a curious child," she remarked and sipped from her tea. "No wonder Tito likes you and your husband."
"As to your question," she added and placed the cup on the ground beneath her feet."My Father was a bó shì …a doctor at court…a healer. That is how I learned."
"Court?" Dany asked. "I don't know much about Yi Ti…You have an Emperor if I am not mistaken?"
"The God-Emperor," she said. "But don't be mistaken…it is not an emtpy title. They do actually think him a god. It is a ridiculous notion…as he is mortal like any other human being. My Father used to treat his bowel problems. I doubt a god would have problems emptying his bowels."
"You don't seem to like him very much," Dany remarked and couldn't help but to chuckle. She tried to imagine a god, being planted to his pot all day long. It was a ridiculous thought and she quickly brushed it away. "And I wonder…How did you end up here if your father held such an important position?"
A bitter smile showed on her lips, but she answered nonetheless.
"My Father was not only a bó shi but also a tài jiàn …an eunuch…a man without a cock…he started out serving the God-Emperor's many wives. No man with a cock is allowed in their presence…the same goes for doctors."
"But how…," she countered, but Tito's mother was quicker.
"My mother was called Lady Sun…she was the daughter of the third Prince, but my father was a lowly court official. Both perished young and I was adopted by my Father who carried the surname Zhu. My full name is Zhu Yingtai…a silly name given to me by my sentimental father. He named me after the tragic heroine of his favorite tale, though he later claimed it was because I had a similar thirst of knowledge like her. Well, my Father was a well-respected man, but fell victim to a court intrigue. They executed him and I was sold into servitude…I rather not tell you the detail about these trials. Eventually, I escaped and came here. The people mistrusted me at first, but Tito's father was much like my son, very curious...I think you you can imagine the rest of the tale."
"I think I can," Dany replied. "I think I understand better than you know."
She gave her a sad smile.
"You are lucky you know," she added and rose back to her feet. "I didn't love Tito's father…I married him because I had to survive. He liked me and so I played along. You can choose your path. I envy you a little, though I love my family and my husband was good to me. Tito told me that you are Princess…my mother was disinherited for marrying a lowly court official."
"Jon is no commoner," she corrected her. "He is a Prince…at least that is the way I see it. He is my brother's son…who was once meant to be a King, even though he was the son of his second wife."
Understanding washed over her face.
"Don't tell that to the others…they would think it strange for relatives to be wed. It doesn't bother me, because my relatives are similar, especially the nobles. The God Emperor's head wife is his half-sister."
"I won't," she assured her and straightening her dress.
"I wonder," Tito's mother remarked. "Now that you have dragons…Will you try retaking the throne that your family lost?"
"Jon says he is no Aegon the Conqueror…he doesn't want to drench the Seven Kingdoms in blood," she recounted his words to her. "I think he just doesn't' want to use the dragons for revenge, though he thinks we should use them to fight the Dothraki."
Curiosity showed on the other woman's face.
"Fight the Dothraki?"
"Aye," she confirmed proudly. "Jon thinks we could lure the Dothraki in a trap."
"A trap," Tito's mother mused."You seem to have a lot of confidence him him, don't you?"
"I do, even if others don't," she replied confidently and picked the bottle from the table.
Then she stopped and gave her a last smile.
"I thank you, for your efforts. I will heed your advice."
…
Margaery
Maegaery didn't know how long she stood there watching over Renly's body. At times she thought he would wake up again and give her one of his charming smiles. Then he would don his crown and they would repay Stannis for his vile murder.
Granted, she had no proof that it was Stannis, but she was there when Renly was slain. Whatever dark sorcery conjured this shadow that slew her husband and King, it carried Stannis Baratheon's face.
Yet even Loras, who was grieving Renly, refused to believe her. He even wanted to execute Lady Brienne. Only Margaerys' word kept him from doing something hasty.
Poor brother. Your love for Renly was true and now you suffered the greatest loss.
Margaery was fond of Renly, but she always knew that he didn't desire her. He treated her like a sister and nothing more. Even when she offered to invite her brother in their bed did he refuse her attentions. Back then she felt insulted, but now she understood that this just showed what a good person her late husband was. He was always true to himself, even though he was sometimes behaved like a child.
They shouldn't have celebrated one tourney after another, but her husband wanted to ascend to the crown in glory.
The Knights of Summer know nothing of war, her Lady Grandmother had told her on her wedding day. It was true. Her brother Loras was a gallant and a valiant fighter, but he never saw true war. He thinks it is like in the songs, full of glory and valiant deeds. Now he had experienced the first touch of war. Maegaery did as well, though less so than her sweet brother.
"Your Grace," a shy voice snapped her out of her thoughts. It was Lady Brienne of Tarth. Not long ago she asked the Lady to become her sworn sword. Loras raged with anger, but Margaery trusted the Lady to keep her safe.
Margaery turned around and graced the Lady Knight with a sweet smile.
"Please don't call me your Grace," she corrected her kindly. "I am no longer Queen. My husband is dead and I don't carry his son."
"Your Grace…," Lady Brienne corrected, but Margaery's smile cut her off.
"What brings you here?"
"Your Lady Grandmother calls for your presence. An envoy has arrived…from King's Landing."
An envoy from King's Landing, she thought and felt a hint of apprehension washing over her. This was a surprise, but not completely unexpected. They might be traitors, but Tywin Lannister has few allies. Yet Margaery learned enough from her Lady Grandmother to know that Tywin Lannister cannot be trusted.
He intends to make use of my Lord Father's desperation, she was sure. If Stannis is allowed to ascend the throne he will depose House Tyrell and place his Florent relatives in charge of the Reach. Tywin must know this.
"Very well," Margaery replied and turned around, joining Lady Brienne at the entrance of the tent. "Let us speak to this envoy."
When she entered the tent she found her Lady Grandmother speaking to a stranger. He was garbed in a black travelling cloak, a silver mocking bird fastened at his chest.
He bowed low and smiled. It was a sly smile, not quite reaching his face.
"Your Grace," he cooed sweetly. "The tales about your beauty weren't embellished."
Empty flattery, she knew and put her mask in place.
She giggled portraying the flattered maiden.
"I thank you," she replied sweetly and lowered her head. "You have yet to state your name, my Lord?"
"I am Petyr Baelish…Master of Coin," he declared proudly. I am also here to speak in the name of the King. He wishes to make you his Queen."
Margaery was surprised by this blunt offer, though she did her best to hide it.
"I generous offer," she replied at last when she felt her Lady Grandmother's eyes burning into her back. "But I assume Lord Tywi…no the King expects something in return. We are after all traitors who questioned the King's legitimacy."
Petyr Baelish's smile betrayed nothing.
"The King 's good-will is known far and wide. He is prepared to forgive House Tyrell if you are prepared to fight his enemies, namely Stannis Baratheon."
"Very kind of him," her Lady Grandmother remarked more directly. "But isn't your gracious King pledged to wed Sansa Stark? What will her brother do once he hears about this?"
"Sansa Stark's father is a known traitor and an allegiance with the North is not comparable with an allegiance to the Reach. Sansa Stark has nothing to offer. The King intends her to find her a proper match in time. As for her brother…the King will not make his true intentions known until Stannis Baratheon is vanquished. Once Stannis is defeated Robb Stark will have no one to rally around. I doubt he will find a cause to stage another rebellion."
"And what guarantees us that your King will keep his word?" her Lady Grandmother asked, not backing down from her position.
Lord Baelish smile disappeared, his eyes taking an almost threatening glint.
"You are acting as if you are in a position to make demands, my Lady. The Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister guards the city against the approaching enemy. He will win this struggle…he has no need of the Reach to win this war. What he offers is not an allegiance, but a way to redeem yourself and show your loyalty to the true King."
True King, Margaery mused, losing herself to distracting thoughts. Who is the true King? Renly thought himself better equipped than Stannis, but often acted as if wearing a crown is a child's game. Stannis thinks himself the rightful King, because he is the older brother and because he can point back at King Robert's claim. Robert Baratheon defeated Prince Rhaegar, but in the end it was his Targaryen blood that gave him his crown.
And now a Lannister bastard occupies Iron Throne. How the game can change.
Not that it would matter to her Lord Father. She loved him with all her heart, but she always knew that his ambitions stand above her own feelings.
He would marry me to a fool in a motely if it would bring me a crown.
"Granddaughter," her Lady Grandmother called her back to the present. "We are waiting for your answer."
She wanted to curse herself for allowing her mask to slip. It seemed Renly's death rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
She brushed those thoughts away and put on her mask.
"I would be honored to be his Grace's Queen," she replied and dipped her head.
…