She was trembling. Lyanna took a deep breath and looked towards Lady Crakehall. "Don't be afraid, Lady Baratheon," the older woman said, "the Queen is kind and she is eager to meet you."

"Thank you, my lady," Lyanna replied, offering a weak smile. She glanced down, taking a moment to admire the way light caught in the silk of her dress. She could not help but be unsettled. Lyanna couldn't rightly say if it was the fact that she would see Rhaegar again – because she was very much aware that she would see him – or because she would spend time in close company with the Queen, a woman she knew almost nothing about.

The dimly lit, small corridor seemed to close in on her. Lyanna allowed her eyes to roam over pale red bricks with thinly veiled distrust. She found herself longing for Winterfell and its warm walls. Her hand reached to touch the red brick. It was cold. Lyanna's face scrunched in disappointment. The hall flowed like a dark stream before her, never ending, always moving forward.

A sharp stab of fear embedded itself into her, trickling poison. What is the Princess was there also? A shudder shook her whole frame as the notion wormed its way inside her head. Lyanna swallowed with difficulty. Cold sweat glided against her heated skin. How would she face that woman if she saw her? What would she do? What would she say? Her heart squeezed painfully. She looked behind her, wondering if it was still possible to run far away.

It would be so very easy. She just had to stop walking, turn around and vanish. Involuntarily her hand came to rest on her abdomen, but as soon as her fingers touched the silk of her dark dress, she drew them away as if she'd been burned. The young woman glanced down, shy and somewhat out of depth.

By the time they reached the imposing door which led into the Queen's private apartments, Lyanna felt like she'd been shooting arrows for hours straight. Her lungs dragged air in with much difficulty and her body ached. It was shocking how similar fear was with physical exhaustion. But there was something different to it, something which baffled Lyanna all the time. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Lady Crakehall knocked gently on the door before opening it. She turned to give Lyanna an inviting glance, leaving the words more a ghost than anything else. She entered first, of course, and Lyanna had no recourse but to follow. It felt rather like she was walking blindly towards her death. But she had agreed to it. Well, perhaps then she couldn't rightly go with blindly.

"Your Majesty," Lady Crakehall greeted, her comically thin hand coming to red upon her rounded stomach. Lyanna followed suit but she ended her greeting with a curtsey. Lady Crakehall might have been allowed a modicum of intimacy in her address to the Queen, but Lyanna certainly hadn't.

From a beautifully woven seat a woman stood up. She was breathtakingly beautiful with long limbs and a supple frame. Her face, however, was what captured one's attention. It was such an innocent face. The Queen looked at the two women dazed. Like her son, she had dark violet eyes and a thin face. It wasn't unpleasant, but it ended somewhat surprisingly in a narrow chin. Her small mouth opened, revealing rows on teeth from beneath slight lips. There was a striking resemblance between this woman and her son.

"You must be Lady Baratheon," she spoke in a clear but albeit soft voice. Lyanna had to strain to hear her, used as she was to the loud voices of her brothers and father. "Come here," the Queen ordered, "let me look at you."

Narrowing her eyes, Lyanna took a hesitant step forward. And then another. Soon she stood before the Queen. Rhaella Targaryen gazed at her with pure interest, studying every little detail her eyes landed on. "You are very pretty." She grimaced. It seemed to displease her. "Well, well, I suppose we'll have to be careful."

"Careful?" Lyanna echoed. "Your Majesty, forgive me, but I do not understand."

"Better that you don't," the Queen assured her. "Mayhap we needn't even worry. Tell me Lady Baratheon, have you been married long?"

"Nay, Your Majesty, it has just been three moon turns." More than long enough. Lyanna expected that someday soon a raven would come.

"And your husband did not protest to your leaving him?" the woman continued, sitting back down in her chair and pulling a shawl across her shoulders despite the heat coming from the fire.

A small smile made its way upon her lips at that. It was something between irony and despair. "He can spare me, Your Majesty," she replied nonetheless.

Thoughtful, the Queen brought a hand to her cheek. She nodded her head in understanding. "I see, my lady." And she did seem to understand something. Lyanna reckoned that whatever thoughts passed in her head, they were not at all equal with the truth. "Sit," she told them abruptly. "Sit down the both of you."

Lyanna obeyed instantly, not even thinking to choose which chair she wanted. Lady Crakehall searched the room for some time before she found her preferred seat. The Queen sighed loudly. No one spoke. Lyanna glanced at the woman. She looked troubled. "Your Majesty?" she probed gently, half-wondering how her intervention would be taken.

"Ah, I've just remembered," the Queen exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. She walked swiftly to a door which Lyanna could only guess led into the bedchamber, and disappeared for a few moments. Whooshes and creaking sounds dominated for some time.

Then the Queen returned, clutching something in her hand. She drew closer to Lyanna and held the object out to her. Lyanna reached out, guided by she knew not what impulse. And then she brought the thin, embroidered material closer to her face.

Blue roses with wide petals danced on a lily-white square of cloth. "Winter roses, Your Majesty?" she asked in a small, coked voice. She hadn't expected to find anything of her home so far south. "It is very beautiful. Your Majety is too kind." Her voice was thick with emotion.

"Think nothing of it, Lady Baratheon," the Queen answered. She offered a motherly smile before sitting down once more. "You must miss your home."