Hiimprettyawesomehowaboutyou, Nyany4: I thank you both so much for reviewing!

I fear a little bit of drama is ahead, this is ASoIaF after all^^ But I will try to include some fluffy moments!

King's Landing, 300AC, a few days later

Aliena

The imp was to die on the morrow. Cersei was overjoyed at the prospect but Aliena could not even pretend to find joy in something. Sandor had not spoken to her since. Had not even looked at her since. He evaded her and there was nothing she could do.

Varys visited her that evening, dressed in roughspun and a kitchen servant's apron.

"It seems you have lost your lapdog, my lady." he accused her softly. Aliena had known he would come but his words stung no less.

"For now." she said with an optimism she did not feel. "Let him get over his rage and he will come back to me. A dog needs a master. Or a mistress." That was wrong, though. He needed nothing but to kill his brother and Aliena had taken that from him.

Varys swayed his head. "How long might this take? You should not have discouraged him so, my lady." I meant to save him, why is that so wrong?

"Then I'd be one dog poorer." she said. "He would have either fallen to his brother, or he would have won and lost his cloak and position." And I would have lost him, once and for all. Now there was still the tiniest hint of hope, that treacherous thing.

"I hope you have not tied your fate only to the attentions of a dog?" Varys asked. Oh, not my fate, my happiness.

"I have a swan to protect me." She admitted reluctantly. "But I'd rather take the dog."

"A swan who loves his honour well." Varys replied. "But you have a whole flowerbed of roses."

"I like roses well and their thorns are sharp and have their use. But their reach is small and their roots keep them firmly in one place. A dog can run with me and his teeth are sharp wherever we go."

Varys nodded gravely. "I hope that you will achieve what you want, sweet lady." and his words sounded like farewell.

"Is it time?" she asked, suddenly filled with sadness. She had known it would come to this.

"It is. Be strong, my lady. You will hear of it all on the morrow. Be surprised."

"I shall. Farewell." she said, but he was not done yet.

"Should you need help…" he started and she finished his sentence:
"Your little birds will come to my aid. I understand."

"Forgive me, my lady, but you understand very little." A soft smile graced his plump lips. Well, thank you.

"Nothing will happen to me. They want, they need my blood and my claim." Just like you.

The spider smiled as if he knew what she was thinking.

"A spider can make no promises and old habits die hard but I will try to promise that no harm shall come to you and try to keep that promise." That was not worth more than song.

"I am not scared." she assured him, suddenly tired.

"You are more important than you know, my lady." Ah, sweet lies from a spider, how refreshing and just what I needed to hear.

"I will not marry your pretender." she said, instead, flatly.

Varys giggled like a maiden.

"I have always known that, my lady. I know you better than you think. And your importance does not lie in your hand. These times are trying but you have a duty here. Should you find that duty too dangerous and your dog far away, tell the good Lady Taena that you are longing to go home." I knew.

"She is your new spy. A finer spy than me." Somehow, it made her jealous. She had been good at that game for so long.

"Her loss will be more bearable. Lady Taena has many friends and she will see that you are brought to Pentos safely. Take a ship from the South, not from Gulltown. The Stormlands will protect you but the North and the Vale hold danger for you. Littlefinger would love your blood on his hands, or your hand in his. I am never sure." Neither am I with you. Her instincts told her never to ask Lady Taena, never to go to Pentos. Varys had been a regular visitor for near on eight years now, he had come first on her tenth nameday, but she still felt as if he was an utter stranger, and trusted him even less.

"I shall do as you say." she lied.

He giggled.

"The realm has need of you. Try not to die." He looked out of the window, the sky was turning to ash, the sun had set and only a narrow band of orange remained above the horizon.

"It is time for me to leave you, my lady." His tone was almost sad. You will leave me all alone. She would feel even worse without the spider around.

"My little birds will keep an eye on you." He touched her arm with a soft hand and then turned around. But Aliena stopped him.

"Will I see you again?" She asked and he smiled, something that looked almost genuine.

"No doubt. Sooner than we both think, I am certain. You have a way of surprising me sometimes, you know, my lady." I hope so.

"You do all this because I am an important piece." Aliena was trying to make him say more, to give away a tiny detail of his plans.

But he only smiled at her, a sad little smile.

"Why else would I, Aliena?"

He left her alone with confusion and sadness. I have lost Sandor first and now I lost him as well. The Martells are gone and all I have are the roses, whose thorny grasp can be as dangerous as a lion's claws. She had never felt so alone in her life. She shook her head. Self-pity won't help you now. You need new allies. Cersei was all but powerless now but Aliena had a feeling that Lord Tywin's rule was ended. The Tyrells were her friends and Cersei remained her staunchest supporter. She would endure. She always had.

~o~

She woke from the sound of bells after a long night's sleep. The sky was blue and the sun stood high. Aliena rang for Kenna. The Queen would have need of her.

It turned out that Tyrion had escaped from the black cells, found a secret passage to the chamber of the Hand it seemed, and he had found his father on the privy and greeted him with a crossbow. To be fair, this fine lord father had condemned him to die so Aliena was sympathetic and understanding. Cersei was not though, full of rage and irrational fear and it fell to Aliena to calm her down. Varys is gone now, but never truly. And he saved Tyrion and killed Tywin. She no longer had to fear marriage alliances. Just that now, whom did she even stay for?

A few days later

Jaime Lannister

Sandor Clegane was the only one in the White Chamber when Jaime climbed down the steep, narrow spiral staircase early the next morning. The sun peeked over the horizon and bathed the Red Keep in weak orange light but his sworn brother looked as if he had not gotten a wink of sleep yet. Jaime could hardly fault him, Ser Gregor's screams kept them all up at night but for Sandor, it must be pure torture. Not because of his brotherly love, but because of the fierce hatred these two shared for one another. It had been his only desire to end Gregor's life and now, it seemed as if someone else had done the deed for him. He could have stood as Tyrion's champion. Why didn't he? Jaime had wondered about this a dozen times or more.

Brotherly love. He mused. He had freed Tyrion and his brother had repaid the favour by murdering their father. The father that sentenced him to die and made me lie about his wife, to be sure. Perhaps Tyrion had had the balls he, Jaime, had lacked all his life. He killed my son, too. The thought came to him a moment later. Joffrey had never mattered much. Tyrion killed him. At least he said so. Jaime should be mad with rage but he wasn't.

The Hound was full of rage, though, now more than ever.

The burnt man looked up when Jaime entered and nodded curtly, then he fell back into brooding silence. Jaime had found him changed when he had come back. Twice he had caught him smiling for no apparent reason, although his face had taken its usual scowl again once he had noticed that the Lord Commander was watching him. It must have been a woman. Few things could make a man smile, and even fewer things the Hound. It was not glory or victory he longed for, nor was it a keep and grandchildren. Something had changed him, though, or someone ...but now that person was gone. Jaime found himself wondering what kind of woman it took to make the Hound smile. As far as he knew, Sandor did not even frequent the same whore more than once, as other men did. Whoever she was, clearly she is no longer there. If it was only Gregor's impending death, Sandor would be full of fury, he would be angry, ill-tempered, loud. But he was quiet in his rage, brooding, morose. Only in the yard, with his sword in hand, did he let it show. He had almost hacked off a squire's arm the other day, broken more limbs and noses over the past few days than Jaime cared to count. There was more to the Hound's sullenness than his brother's certain death, Jaime was convinced, but they were not on the level of intimacy that would allow him such questions and he knew for sure that Sandor would tell him to mind his own bloody business if he asked as Lord Commander. And rightly so. His life is none of my business. Only his loyalty is, and there is no questioning that. Sandor had fought even in the Battle on the Blackwater, amidst sprawling green flames. His loyalty is so that I might even ask him to practise with me, under the cover of darkness. The Hound was dutiful and close-mouthed by nature and he was not the kind of man whose tongue was loosened by wine. I shall give it a thought. Jaime shot him a quick scrutinising glance. Sandor was taller than him almost by a head and far broader, too. In his olden days, Jaime had been quicker, though, his blows more precise, albeit less forceful. Now, though...I have better chances fighting him with my fist and feet than with a sword in my left. Still, it might give him a chance to see what he could do, to improve...only that no one could ever know.

Sandor got up and left him to the silence and first golden rays of sunlight with only a few mumbled words. He was off to guard the king that was scared of him.

His eyes were dark grey and shadowed, his face grim and sullen and the scars looked even worse in the bright morning light as he grabbed his helmet and sword belt. He looks worse than he did when he had to stay up all night to guard that Swann girl Cersei is so protective of. Indeed, he had not looked weary those days at all, had not appeared tired. Something changed, and it is not only his monster of a brother. Jaime thought of Cersei, with her fine golden curls, her bright green eyes, the smooth skin that had begun to soften since the last time he had had her. 'She's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleback and Moon Boy for all I know.' Women. If it was indeed a woman that made Sandor so sullen and brooding, he had Jaime's heartfelt sympathy. Women were a strange breed, and especially his sister was as much torture as she was joy. Suddenly, Jaime found himself thinking of a freckled, broad, homely face with huge blue eyes. Angrily, he shook his head. She's not even a proper woman. But now that he had thought about her, he could not unthink it and the wench stayed at the back of his mind until Ser Balon walked in and bid him a good morrow.

"My lord." The younger man swallowed. "Do I have your leave to escort my cousin today? She wishes to take a walk in the city." The Others take your cousin, Jaime almost said. He did not exactly dislike the girl that took so much of Cersei's attention and affection but he always felt strangely uncomfortable around her. By now it was not a well guarded secret though that she was, after Stannis, Robert's closest living relative and thereby his heir should Stannis and his grey-scaled daughter die, which seemed likely. Women were not fought with swords though, their hands and cunts were sold and that was what his father had wanted to do as well. Her royal blood for the Lannisters. Jamie knew that he had wanted to marry her to Tommen before Joff's death and later, he had planned to keep her at court, unmarried until she was of use to House Lannister. Cersei planned to keep her close, though whether for the same reasons, Jaime could not say. He and his sister had somehow grown apart during his time in the Riverlands and he found himself longing for the past far more than for his sister. I had two hands then, and one lover. Now, it seemed, he had left one of each behind.

"As you will." Jaime said. "We cannot have Lady Aliena run around alone in the city, can we?" Jaime asked. "Where does she want to go?"

Balon swallowed. "To Flea Bottom, my lord. And then to the sept." As pious as a septa, as pretty as the Maiden. She was not what Jaime liked but many others fell for her sweetness, the man in front of him included.

"Tell her that praying won't bring him back." Jaime told Balon and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. No. His stump.

He had always wondered about the girl's feelings for Joff. The boy had been cruel to her, and he did not believe her tears for a moment. I have lied to you a thousand times. Why had he never seen it before? In this damned city, he was surrounded by liars, and his sister was the worst of them. It stung, worse than his phantom hand did hurt. How proudly Cersei had told him that he had fallen for her lies so often. How much he had longed for her warmth only to find her distant and cold. That must be said of the wench, she's too stupid and too stubborn to lie. Jaime took his sword belt, not that it was of much use to him now, and walked down the short flight of stairs to the ground level. Cersei would be up now, he hoped, or else he'd wake her. He needed something only she could give him.

The Day of the Wedding of Tommen I and Margaery

Aliena

Kenna looked at her with worry in her eyes. "Are you alright, my lady? You look...sad."
Sad. Yeah, that's exactly what I need to hear. Cersei had seen it, too, but she had thought it was because of Tywin's death and Tyrion's escape. Varys had seen it, too. Then surely, he saw it as well. He just didn't care anymore.
"The past few days were quite tough and strenuous." She forced herself to smile. "I'll be fine."
Her handmaiden didn't say anything but her face spoke volumes of her doubts.
She helped Aliena into her dress. As she smoothed down the skirt, Kenna asked, shily:
"Does it have something to do with the Hound?"
Aliena swallowed. There were things even Kenna was not allowed to know.
"No, sweetling, why would it? He is the king's guard, not mine." That was the truth.
"I just...he spent so much time with you. And..." She hesitated. "He used to look at
you in a certain way and he doesn't no more."
Again, it was proven that words could cut deeper than swords. Kenna couldn't have hurt her more if she had twisted a knife in her belly. He does not look at me anymore at all. She had told Varys that time would heal his wounds, that time would gentle his rage, but her hope was fading. Ser Gregor had been brought to the black cells and Aliena knew that Qyburn experimented on him...but she had little hope that the chainless maester could bring the dead back to life. He will hate me forever, and rightly so. But it hurt...
Kenna was still looking at her and Aliena caught herself before the tears came.
"One foot at sea and one ashore, to one thing constant never." Aliena smiled. "Men
often look at me in a certain way and then forget my existence mere weeks later. I don't
take it to heart, Kenna." No, my heart is currently so bruised and bloody that I wish it didn't
exist.

Her maid shook her head. "You are unhappy, my lady, and I wish I could help you."

"Much has gone wrong, there have been so many deaths...Gods, I fear I will never get out of my mourning gowns."

Now that Lord Tywin is about to return home, you do not have to wear it for much longer, my lady."

It was true. The last service for Lord Tywin had been a grotesque ceremony, the corspe had stunk, the king had retched up his breakfast and lost his crown. Literally.

But now, it would all go back to normal. Cersei would rule and spread chaos, fear and unrest. She had already chosen Harry Swift, her uncle's good-father, as Hand, a man without talents but of utter devotion to his Queen. A puppet who will speak the words she tells him to speak. Apart from him, she had made a bastard Lord Admiral, as the former Master of Ships was called now, and Aurane Waters might look as handsome as Rhaegar once had but he was far from being as noble and upright as the dead Prince of Dragonstone. The rest of the small council was similar to Harry Swift, men with little talent or opinion. The only exception was the old Pycelle and Cersei's master of whisperers, Qyburn. Aliena did not trust the man in his soiled robes, but she could not deny that he had some wits about him.

"You look beautiful, my lady. Although black for a wedding…" She wrinkled her nose.

"The Queen will wear black, and so shall I."

Her black velvet mourning gown was embroidered with stags and roses in thread of gold and had sleeves of golden lamé, though, and she wore a necklace Willas Tyrell had sent her from Highgarden. Supposedly. It was beautiful though, so she did not question it's giver. It was a necklace of twining golden roses, the delicate leaves set with emeralds. It was a necklace that needed space, so she had settled on a low cut dress.

Kenna admired the piece.

"Perhaps you should go to Highgarden, my lady." she suggested. Aliena's mouth grew thin.

"I will not marry. Do you know what you are suggesting?"

"Your mother would not have wanted you to sacrifice everything for a castle, my lady." Kenna said softly but Aliena was angry anyway.

"I do not know what my mother would have wanted. She is dead. But I am not, and it is not only the castle I want." Aliena was not angry with the woman, no, it was only herself she had to be angry with and that was truly hard. It was unfair of her to serve her maidservant the dish she had to eat herself.

Kenna brushed out her hair softly and said nothing about Highgarden anymore but Aliena apologised for her harshness and got a smile in reply.

The second royal wedding in the first moon of 300AC was a sorry affair compared to the splendid feast Joffrey's wedding had been. The young queen wore the same gown she had worn for her first wedding. Cersei was pale in her mourning but the Tyrells wore green and gold and yellow, some of them with a hint of black lace or taffeta, for decency's sake. Six knights of the Kingsguard were in attendance, though, and the aging Ser Boros, who was now Tommen's food tester. Ser Jaime, with his stump, Ser Loras, Ser Balon who had accompanied her so often over the last days, Ser Osmund, all wide smiles and grins, Ser Meryn with a bored expression on his uncomely face, and him. Trant looked bored but he looked angry. He did not follow the ceremony and his eyes never once left a spot on the opposite wall, no matter how openly she stared at him. Aliena half expected the wall to break under his gaze, so forceful was his stare, so angry were his eyes, so grim the line of his mouth.

Margaery knelt in front of her short, plump husband to receive his kiss. If anything, widowhood had made her only more beautiful, and Ser Osmund seemed to think the same, judging by the look he gave the blushing bride.

The king and his bride led the procession to the Small Hall where the reception took place. This feast had been organised by Lady Alerie and it bore the Tyrell signature. The decorations were tasteful and elegant but not as overpowering as they had been in the Throne Room. There were seven courses to be served and only one singer and two fools. Moon Boy and Butterbumps entertained them before the first course, a white, creamy soup of mushrooms. The seating order was not strictly divided as it had been for the first wedding and Aliena found that she had been seated next to the old queen, a place of high honour and peace and quiet. She was not sure whether she could bear Olenna's japes and pointed remarks before a few spoons of soup and a cup of wine. She would have to talk to the Tyrells later though, Cersei would want her to. The queen was as absent as she was, rejected her brother rudely and drank more than she should. Apart from a few remarks about the bride's unseemly happiness, she remained silent. Aliena did not point out that there was no one who mourned for Joffrey apart from them. Indeed, no one else wore black but Ser Kevan who was brooding and sullen on Aliena's other side and barely managed to reply courteously when she spoke to him. After the main course, Aliena walked over to the other side of the high table with Cersei's permission and left an empty seat between the old queen and her uncle.
"Aliena, sweetling, come here." By chance, there was an empty seat between Lady Olenna and Ser Garlan who was talking to his wife, a pretty, dainty lady with blonde straight hair and bright, light blue eyes.

"You look better now." The Queen of Thorns said. "You looked dreadfully pale over the last days but you are almost your pretty old self now."

"How kind of you to say so." Aliena remarked drily.

"The sun in the South will become you, I am sure. I will leave on the morrow but for you that is too early, I heard. The Queen Dowager has need of you, Ser Kevan said, but you shall come to Highgarden before the first snow falls." Before the end of the year.

"Ser Kevan said so?" Aliena smiled. "Why, he must know when I can leave, where I can go."

Aliena was sick of men deciding her fate.

Olenna countered her sharp remark with a smile. "You do have the temper of a stormlander although they trained you well here. I must say I part gladly from this place but I shall be looking forward to your arrival."

Her hand was soft and freckled with age spots.

"It is kind of you to say so." There was no way Aliena would go to Highgarden but everyone believed she would. Everyone but Cersei.

Olenna was about to say something when behind Aliena, Tommen started to cough. Aliena wheeled around in her seat with shock but the boy had stopped coughing already.
"Only a little wine that went down the wrong way." Margaery assured Cersei who had pushed a serving girl aside to reach her son. Shock, anger, pain were plain on the older queen's face as she turned around and fled into a narrow passageway behind Ser Meryn, but Aliena had seen the tears as much as Margaery and Olenna.

"I did not want to scare her." Tommen said and Margaery reassured him in a soft sweet voice. Aliena saw the Myrish woman, one of Margaery's ladies and Varys' spy, go after Cersei. She herself knew better than to follow the queen in her tears. Cersei did like to be alone with weakness. Casually, Aliena rose from her chair with a promise to come back later and walked back to her seat. She would be glad when Olenna was gone. Margaery had a little of her grandmother in her but was far sweeter and not so forceful. Willas is the best option I have.

Indeed, going East all by herself was no longer an appealing plan since Sandor would not accompany her and there was no one else with whom she could or wanted to make the long, dangerous journey. Balon would accompany me but I would surely regret taking him with me. As much as she liked him for his honesty and loyalty, Balon would never make her love him and that would be his price. He would not ask for it but she would have to pay it all the same. I could wait in Highgarden and pass my time. I do not have to marry him right away. But she knew that once she left Cersei's reach, she would be utterly at the mercy of the roses and they proved no more merciful than the queen. No, as soon as I am there, I will be wed. They would not risk losing her. It was maddening. The Dornish would have been her second best option but Oberyn's reckless fight had ruined that as well. My happiness and my security, both. Sandor had not looked at her once and a tiny, nagging voice in her head kept wondering whether he was back to frequenting whores. It hurt her to even think about it so she let her thoughts wander back to her depressing situation. It all looked so bright, and now there is nowhere I can turn. She missed Varys, too, his knowing giggles and hidden meanings, his reassuring presence.

Cersei returned to the hall and took the seat next to Aliena.

"Lady Taena brought me very interesting news." she whispered into Aliena's ear. "Maid Margaery apparently pays my maid to spy on me." That did not surprise her much although she doubted it was the young queen herself who gave her the gold. The Tyrells were a close-knit family and father and grandmother wanted to keep their darling safe.

"An outrage." she whispered back. "But good of the Myrish Lady to tell you."

"Very good indeed. She is an ambitious one, mind my words. She will bring more before the moon turns."

Aliena did not doubt that. Clearly, Lady Taena had been given the same task. Sow mistrust.

The sweets and nuts and cheese were served and Aliena helped herself to a few raspberry tarts and a lemon cake. The cake reminded her of Sansa though and Sansa reminded her of him, and the sweet freshness turned to bile in her mouth. Sansa was safe with Littlefinger, at least. He used her as he used everyone, but he would protect her. Something that went well, after all. She should not lose hope. There was a way out for her, too. She would not go down with Cersei, she would not marry. Varys knew that it was Queen Daenerys she wanted to seek out and he would help her. Trust a eunuch and you can start digging your grave. That was well-known. Whereever I turn, I see no way out I like. He was the only one, and I ruined it.

After the sweets came the dance. Aliena did not feel much like dancing but then she remembered something.

It had been a dance that had made him so jealous that he had broken his silence to talk to her. Perhaps it would work this time, too. If it doesn't, I need to give up. It was a bitter thought but a true one. He did not want her anymore and there was no use in chasing after him. He would not like her more for it, that much was certain.

Aliena danced every dance, the first with Ser Garlan, but he was no good for he loved his wife deeply. She danced with Ser Tallard but found him lacking both grace and wits. The Bastard of Driftmark was different, older, perhaps two and twenty, with a narrow face and the silver gold hair of the Targaryens. Yes, they made a beautiful couple. He was as graceful as he was witty, although he was also respectless and Aliena could smell selfishness and ambition. Many bastards who had been in the second row all their lives longed for a place in the light, Aliena knew, and this one was one of those. He whirled her around until she was breathless and laughing, then he took her into his arms, pulled her closer than appropriated. She did not risk a sideway glance but hoped that he was looking.

She moved rfom the bastard of Driftmark's arms to Ser Osney's, allowed him to whirl her around like a peasant and ignored it when he stepped on her feet. He was utterly common, that much was plain, but tall and broad and dark haired….He looks as if I am looking for a bad substitute. Hells, he even has scars. Three long ones down his cheek. Ser Osney had the irritating habit of staring at her neckline and breathing at her as he spoke. A cloud of sour wine breath hit her face everytime he made a jape and she found it hard to laugh. She was almost ready to take her seat again but Balon stepped in.

"You look beautiful, Aliena."

The times that he had escorted her down to the city had made them more familiar again, something she liked not much, for it was cruel to let him hope. She knew that much now. But she had to go. The city was overflowing with sparrows, lowborn peasants and brothers of the Faith and their numbers were growing. Cersei dismissed them as powerless rabble but Aliena knew well that it was also the smallfolk that decided where power resided. She met some of the sparrows, prayed with them, gave alms and bread, and ruined more and more dresses in the dirty streets around the Sept. She still went to Flea Bottom where things were going better now. No one had commented on the fact that it was now a different man that accompanied her.

"I thank you, Balon." she smiled as she danced with him. He was not a spirited dancer but he never stepped on her feet and his hands stayed where they were supposed to be. He was kind and entertaining but Aliena could not say that she was sorry when the dance was over. Balon was satisfactory, kind, honest, honourable. But there was nothing about him that made her heartbeat quicken. He took his place amongst his brothers again but she noticed that his eyes, at least, never left her. Sandor had still not looked at her once as far as she could tell. All she wanted was to lie on her soft cushions and feel sorry for herself but she could not afford the luxury of self-pity.

"M'lady", a voice said behind her, dark and low, and for the fracture of a moment, she thought the Gods had heard her silent prayers when she glimpsed dark hair and a tall figure. But it was only Osmund Kettleback. He stood shorter than Sandor and was less powerful but he had a sly, brazen gallantry Sandor lacked. Of course, he would never ask me to dance. She had liked that about him too. I liked too much about him. This is what happens if I allow myself to be distracted. Cersei called love a sweet poison and Aliena knew that she was right. She had relished its sweetness but now it hurt more than anything.

"Ser Osmund?" She forced herself to be pleasant. Liar, fraud, braggart.

"I need your help and advise. I have seen a lady dance with two of my brothers now, but never with me. I wonder, how can that be?"

She was just about to tell him that she was too tired for foolish games when she saw his eyes dart over to them for the tiniest of moments. I cannot go back to my seat now. He will think I stopped dancing because I caught him looking.

"Perhaps this lady has waited to be asked by you, good Ser, but has been too shy to ask herself. Perhaps she has danced with your brothers to make you notice her." she replied, keeping her eyes on Sandor behind Ser Osmund.

"Is this what women do?" he asked, perplexed. You have no idea how far women go for the attention of the man they love.

Aliena cast her eyes down demurely, then looked up at him from under her lashes. "You surely do not want to force me to reveal the secrets of my sex?"

He laughed. "Oh, sweet lady, I am sure I do not want to know." You wouldn't understand anyway.

He took her hand. His hands were hard and cold. Sandor's had always been warm.

"So this lady, she wanted me to notice her?" Osmund asked, his eyes for once fixed on hers.

"I do not know about that lady. I can only speak for myself." Aliena replied.

"And what if I told her that I have noticed her? That I have been thinking 'bout no other woman as much as about her?" Aliena withdrew her hand.

"Then I would tell you that the queen would not like that."

Osmund's eyes darted over to Cersei who drank a cup of hippocras and was engaged in a conversation with Aurane Waters. Of course. He must look much like Rhaegar.

"You talk about a woman's secrets, I will share a male one with you: We have room for more than one woman in our heart, sweet lady." Ah, now I am truly shocked. Sandor did not seem to have room for one. Or perhaps he does, but it is not you, a nasty voice whispered. Aliena tried to ignore it.

"So you tell me that this lady is just one of many?" Aliena turned half-away from him. Somehow, she enjoyed toying with him. Gods forbid, have I turned into Cersei? She thought for a moment. No, I do not intend to let him fuck me. Thank the Gods, I have not taken leave of my wits.

Ser Osmund had clearly not awaited this reaction.

"No, sweetest. This lady is the first amongst many, the crowning jewel of womanhood." No doubt he had heard that in some song, sung by a drunkard in a winesink. I find it hard to keep my dinner down.

"This lady must be a happy woman then, Ser. Do not waste your time on me and ask her for a dance." Aliena said, in a snappy voice and Osmund took her hand again.

"My lady, will you give me this dance and make me a happy man?"

"Oh, Ser Osmund. You have played me like a fiddle." She could feel the red warm on her cheeks but it was embarrassment for how low she had sunken.

"I meant no harm, my lady. Will you dance with me?"

"With the greatest pleasure."

Not much good could be said of his dancing skills and she hoped for Tommen that his knight was better with his swordhand than with his feet. He does dance better than his brother, but that is not much of a compliment. Compliments, she heard many. Her eyes were as beautiful as the stars, her smile as sweet as a rose. She had skin as flawless as ivory and her hair was a waterfall of beauty. They were as vague and hazy as fog and Alilena did not doubt that a hundred serving wenches had heard the exact same ones before. Sandor never told me that I was beautiful. He said I was pretty once. He liked me not for my looks but for who I am. Tears crept up again and Aliena knew that this would not do. No one could stand up to him in her view so she should not compare.

She did her best to blush at Ser Osmund's nondescript compliments and laughed at his dull japes and ignored his wandering hands. They should call this one squid. His hands were everywhere. Aliena risked another look but Sandor's eyes were fixed on a spot on the whitewashed wall and did not dart over to her for a moment. This is useless. The song was not yet over when Aliena removed the man's hands from her skirt and bodice.

"I am very tired, Ser. You will forgive me." Ser Osmund followed her, asking questions but she took her seat at the Queen's side and he did not dare to pursue her in the presence of Cersei. He found a few empty compliments for Her Grace before he went back to his brothers. He, too, stared at her from time to time, just like Balon, but the grey eyes looked at everything but her. She went to bed feeling dirty and empty. This was the last time. she told herself, again. The last time I have tried to get his attention. Almost a fortnight had passed now and he had not even looked at her once, except for the tiny moment today. He was angry and he cared not a fig for her, that was plain. I have to stop caring, too.

Kenna helped her out of her gown and into her nightgown. She did not wear the bedrobe anymore she had worn with him, the one whose belt she had loosened so often to tease him, whose sleeve she had allowed to slip down her shoulder from time to time. He had touched the collar, pushed it down her arms and she still shuddered pleasantly when she remembered ...No! This was no good. It was over, it seemed, and she would have to focus on other things.