Chapter 3
Myrcella stripped herself out of the woolen breeches to replace them with silken stockings. She had sown three pairs of breeches, made tight and thin like a hose when she realized her morning meditating exercises were much easier to perform in those than her undergarments. Besides, it made her feel strangely proud of herself, wearing her scandalous but comfortable clothes in the privacy of her chambers.
Said privacy soon ended when her maid came in to help her get ready. She always suspected her maids were Lord Varys's spies, so Myrcella always made sure to wear proper lady's clothes by the time anyone would come for her. The last thing Myrcella desired was for someone to find her in scandalous clothes.
Sandor was the only person who knew the full extent of her daily activities, but Myrcella trusted him more than any other person. She did since the moment he gave her a dagger to hide in her skirt and taught her how to use it. She had been too young, too protected by the walls of Casterly Rock, to understand why she would ever need such a skill. But, oh how Myrcella understood now!
She never felt the need to use the growing collection of sharp objects that Sandor kept giving her, but she could not deny she felt a sense of security in feeling the dagger in her leg or the one hidden in her boot, and even the thinner one in her forearm.
But they weren't always there.
Dinner with the king always ended with him touching parts of her body. If he wasn't the king, his blood would spill on the ground. But he was the king, and she had no desire for him to find such a weapon in her pose.
Her hands were shaking. They tended to do that when her thoughts turned to Aerys. She returned from her meetings with him with strained breaths, a pumping heart, and feeling like she was choking on air. It was usual for Sandor to find her crumbling on the ground, feeling disgusted with herself.
Myrcella learned to distance herself in those moments, think of places far away from where Aerys touch didn't make her want to scratch her skin raw.
When the door knocked, Myrcella's fingernails were almost drawing blood from her arms, but she had finished hiding her clothes.
"Come in." She asked from her reading seat by the window. She marked the page of the forgotten book with shaky hands.
"Good morning, my lady." Her maid entered, carrying a plate with her morning fast.
Lily was a Crownlander and one of the few servants she was allowed to have. A decade older than her, she was the only child of a knight in service of the crown. The King had "given" the woman to Myrcella when he sent her ladies away. And while Myrcella was pleased her companions were safe, she missed them all the same. She missed Briony's advice, Ashara's witty remarks, Melesa's sweet voice, and the way cousin Margot always made a conversation more cheerful.
There were days, more than she foresaw, when she missed Lord Tywin Lannister. No, not Lord Lannister. She missed her father above all but Tyrion. She missed the way they used to spend meals going over the loyalties of those in King's Landing, and none confused them the most (not that Lord Tywin would admit being confused about anything) than Lord Varys, the Master of Whispers. Missed how her father would speak of Small Council meetings like she imagined he once did with mother and Uncle Kevan, not remembering she was a mere girl. She missed how he would blink at her when she voiced her opinions about matters of state. Lord Tywin never once complimented or even reacted to her ideas, but he never ordered her silent as he would do when Cersei, in the rare moments he spoke of the politics of the kingdom to both of them.
But Lily was one of the few companions she had now. A tall woman of average but pretty appearance, Myrcella hadn't trusted her in the beginning. She didn't trust any of the ladies or maids appointed by Aerys, which meant Lord Varys or Grandmaster Pycelle. She had lived too long in King's Landing and had Tywin Lannister for a father, she was well aware spies existed, and they were the ones people easily ignored.
But after a year with no confidantes, she found herself speaking to Lily even against her better judgment. If the maid was a spy for the king, she wasn't doing a good job. And even if she was one of Varys birds, she was beginning to care little for it as well.
At times, Myrcella had nightmares where a Kingsguard (even Jaime) would drag her to the Throne Room, where Aerys would order her to be burned like Rickard Stark or strangled like Brandon Stark.
"I hate the king and his court, Lily. I hope Lord Baratheon comes and kills them all," she had confessed in one of her weakest moments. And since Myrcella's head was still attached to the rest of her body, Lily kept her treason to herself.
After that, Myrcella began to share some of her thoughts with her. Lily shared her own too, and her ability to be almost invisible amidst court gave her an edge to gather information. A perfect spy, this maid, but whose? Mine or Varys? And if me why? I cannot offer her any payment, nor can I protect her from anyone.
"Was I called to attend court?" Myrcella asked, watching the clothes Lily carried after placing the food on the small table.
"Not yet, my lady."
Myrcella nodded and let Lily dress her for the day. There was no need to ask who picked the clothes. The King had ordered what she would wear since the moment the war began, and her father ignored the missives that commanded him to fight on the King's behalf. Myrcella ended what little defiance she might have when she realized she could use the King's obsessive behavior towards her in favor of others.
Today, she was to wear a black gown with V-neckline that showed the satin kirtle underneath. It was the opposite of Queen Rhaella's voluminous gowns with flaring sleeves and standup collars. But that was on purpose. However, she was well aware Aerys was too mad to make such a clever political statement on his own. Someone was counseling him in dressing her up and making her look like his mistress. And, by the looks courtiers threw at her, many were beginning to believe the tale.
I hate him! I hate how he touches me! How he whispers in my ear and calls me his! I hate him! I hate his dresses and his jewels! She wanted to scream at the courtiers but never did. Only Elia and Queen Rhaella understood her, but they too never spoke a word, not in a court where one move could end your life. But their eyes and the way their hands would offer comfort said it all.
She would never be anyone's mistress, not willingly, and Aerys touches made her feel like something was crawling over her skin. She hated them as much as she hated the lustful gaze he had for her. Myrcella lived her days dreading the moment when she would be forced to pay with her body what Aerys' eyes craved. To know courtiers called her his mistress made her want to scream. (Aren't his touches enough, the bruises he likes to leave in her arms and breasts? Would they be enough?)
She never screamed. But if she lived through this, the entire wardrobe was going to be burned.
Lily offered her an apple, and Myrcella realized she had once again gotten lost in her mind. She gave Lily a forced smiled and began to eat.
Since no one seemed to need her, Myrcella changed her original plan of going to the sept to hear the morning prayer and decided to go for the evening ceremony. Septon Donnel would be presiding it, and she enjoyed his sermons the most. He was the youngest of the holy men, but unlike Septon Karlon and the High Septon, he did not corrupt his soul by visiting the prostitutes in the city nor with more worrisome sins.
He was her confessor as well, and he had proven not to be a spy. Myrcella had learned at a young age that even the holy men could be agents of someone. The Septon in Casterly Rock was quick to tell her confessions to her Lord Father after all.
Deciding to clear her mind, she broke her fast with a book in her hand. Lily, in front of her, divided the food amongst the two. She wondered what her family would say if they knew she ate her private meals with her servants.
That little defiant made her a little proud of herself as she admonished herself for being prideful of such a simple thing.
"I heard something mi'lady."
Myrcella marked the page of her book and turned to Lily. Her companion wouldn't interrupt her reading for simple courtiers' gossip.
"The old Hand," Lily stopped, wrinkling her nose.
"Lord Owen?"
Lily nodded, "Him. He died in his castle. The new lord, he be sending troops."
"Orton Merryweather. That is the new lord of Longtable," he had been one of the young men flocking about Prince Rhaegar. "He is a fool. Lord Connington just lost the Battle of the Bells. But wit was never Orton's strength."
He had invited her to some walks in the gardens, and she even attended dinners with his family. She knew they would end up in nothing, but Orton had believed himself in love with her – or with her house name more likely and spoke of how great their wedding would be as if it was an assured thing. Old Owen, however, could not possibly believe her father would agree to marry her to a minor Reach lord no matter how high his grandfather's court position was.
He wouldn't let her marry Addam, and he was the heir to Ashemark, the greatest vassal of the Westerlands and one of the most desirable young lordlings in the Seven Kingdoms.
Thinking of Addam made her sad. He had been a page and squire at Casterly Rock, like many young boys, but Addam was one of the few she liked spending time with. He and Jaime were close friends, so the three often shared lessons, and he was one of the few who seemed to favor her above Cersei.
Myrcella wasn't blind, she might not be as breathtaking as Cersei, but she was pretty and even be beautiful when she tried, but from a young age, Myrcella knew men would care much more that she was a Lannister and Lord Tywin's daughter than how beautiful a young maid she was. Not even her intelligence would matter when put against Lannister's gold and influence. Myrcella would wed however her father picked and have no say in it as many had done before her. She knew this since she was old enough to understand what marriage was.
But it still hurt when the handsome youths of the Rock followed Cersei and tried to prove themselves to her, while Myrcella had the occasional minor lord or old lords trying to win her favor.
All but Addam. He never looked towards Cersei with the same brightness he looked at her. And when he asked for Myrcella's favor, it wasn't because Cersei had denied hers or because they believed themselves too lowborn or ugly for Tywin's golden daughter. No. Addam wanted Myrcella. Not Lady Myrcella Lannister. He proved it over time. He wrote her poetry. It was bad poetry, for they were children. But she had kept those letters with her even now and at times would open to read them. It brought a smile to her face even now.
He never asked for her hand, knowing better. After the Tourney in Lannisport and Aerys refusal of either of the Lannister girls as possible wives for Prince Rhaegar, her father had still not betrothed or married her to another man. She had hoped of marrying Addam. But when she was four-and-ten, her father had called her and Cersei to court.
It had been a terrible idea. Cersei and her didn't get along, and people outside of Casterly Rock would know. And the reasoning for their travel. Myrcella had been disgusted with the idea that she should seduce the prince into marrying her. When the prince married Princess Elia, she had been beyond happy (for Elia and for herself, for Prince Rhaegar, with whom she shared a love of stories) while Cersei hoped for some tragic end to behalf Princess Elia, assured in her own vanity of her future with Prince Rhaegar.
They weren't happy years, and meals in the Lannister solar were tense affairs when Cersei was present.
Still, the library was incredible, and there were more orphans at needed care for in the King's Landing than in Lannisport.
She gained friends as well.
Her life in King's Landing had been a busy one. While Cersei refused to visit orphanages and would turn her nose away at any invitation made by Princess Elia, Myrcella did both with glee. And she even surprised her Lord Father (not that he ever said it) with how fast she adjusted to life in King's Landing. She surprised herself. King's Landing became dear to her like Lannisport was, but Casterly Rock never could. And she liked her companions much more in the capital.
Cersei had eventually left with Father, enraged that her sister would stay with "her prince" while was sent to Casterly Rock. But Myrcella had been given a spot as Queen Rhaella's lady companions, not two moons after her arrival. She loved the Queen as she had once loved her mother and never could love her Aunt Genna, and Her Grace needed her. Myrcella would not abandon her because her Lord Father was fighting with the king.
Jaime stayed too, clad in white, but he was not the boy she knew. He hadn't been for a long time.
"Mi'lady?"
"Sorry, Lily, I got distracted. What else did you hear from the kitchens?"
.
.
Myrcella had moved to Maegor's Holdfast as soon as the war broke out, but King Aerys still allowed her to visit the Tower of the Hand and her previous chamber as long as a white knight followed her to make sure there were no "improper men lurking".
Her formal room was where Briony and her ladies used to brew the medicine for colds and other children's illnesses that they gifted the orphanages. Those medicines became lesser now that only Myrcella was present.
Still, it was the only excuse she had to continue to visit the Tower of the Hand.
"There is no one on the floor." Prince Lewyn informed her as she and Lily exchanged recipes.
As the Dornish knight moved to lock the door, Lily helped strip her to her undergarments and changed to a front laced gown like those the smallfolk used.
Soon the two went about their way and into the tunnel, candles in hand. To Myrcella, it was a familiar path, but it was only Lily's third time, and the one where she found the courage to ask what she must probably wonder from the beginning.
"Why does the Hand's Tower have a tunnel to a whorehouse?" Lily asked as they walked through the tunnel with hurried steps.
"The tunnel was dug for a King's Hand," she replied vaguely, but Lily's knowing eyes said it all.
The rest of the journey was made in silence.
Myrcella had found the tunnel in her first year living in the tower. One night, unable to sleep, she decided to go for a walk around the tower. She had hoped to find Sandor awake but was distracted by the strange noises coming from her father's bedchamber. Curiosity picked, she had opened the door to see him climb off the tunnel.
She had been shocked and more than curious as to why he was doing that. Myrcella began studying the fame tunnels underneath the Red Keep with Prince Rhaegar and later Princess Elia, but there was no information about tunnels underneath the Tower of the Hand.
After observing her father two more times, Myrcella had decided to try and walk the inverse trip. And wasn't it shocking what she found.
"Cella," a childish voice ran towards her as Chataya helped climb off the wardrobe. She leaned down to take the child into her arms and kissed her forehead. As she juggled the three-year-old into a better position, she gave Chataya her leather bag.
"Hello, little Marei," she smiled at the child.
Looking around the room, she took notice of the table set with fruits and yogurts, pushed close to the canopied bed where Jayde and Cass laid clad in dressing gowns that covered much more skin than one would expect seeing in women of their occupation.
She went to sit at the bed, adjusting the child in her lap so that they were both in comfortable positions. It wasn't hard, for the bed was probably one of the most comfortable outside the Red Keep and large enough to fit at least five people in it.
"Marei, what did I tell you! You can't just run towards Cella like that? You must keep this a secret, or I won't let you see her anymore," Cass told her daughter sharply, but the girl just hid under Myrcella's hair, so like her own.
"Worry not. There is none close enough to listen. At least untrustworthy," Chataya spoke as she brought their drinks and placed them at a table. Despite the assurances, the fear was clean in Cass's eyes.
"Whores work nights and sleep during the days." a voice said in a jesting tone, trying to light up the mood, no doubt.
"Jayde, don't say words like those next to mi'lady."
"Do not stress yourself, Cass," Myrcella said, trying to hide her smile. Cass always tried to keep her sense of distance due to their status. But Myrcella had been visiting them for far too long to be shocked by such language.
Cass was one of Chataya's most beautiful prostitutes, which said a lot in the most famed brothel in the city. A woman of five-and-ten, with pale blonde hair and hazel eyes, her beauty was not all that attracted men, but also her cleverness. Cass was very likely the cleverest woman Myrcella knew, but also a woman who trusted slowly, but once she did, she revealed the bright star she was on the inside. Myrcella was pleased to be one of the women Cass trusted, even if that trust came thanks to the child on her lap, who Myrcella loved as if she were her own. Like she loved Tyrion.
In a way, she is a bit like Tyrion, she thought. It didn't take too long for Myrcella to realize whose seed Marei came from, even if she never asked.
Her eyes went to the narrow window covered by think red curtains but that she knew were made of leaded glass with a pattern of red and yellow diamonds. Were those colors chosen with Father in mind? Myrcella rather not know.
"Word on the sheets that Jon Connington was sent away." Jayde began, "We won't be missing Lord Griffin, that is for sure."
Cass huffed, "He never visited us. You cannot miss someone you don't know."
"Lord Connington had other interests," Chataya spoke with a voice that seemed to know all the world's secrets but judged none for them. That was likely true, for she never judged Myrcella. Not even when she used to see Chataya as nothing more than a sinful woman who the Seven would punish for her whoring.
Foolish girl I was, the Gods have too much to punish before they turn their judgment onto prostitution.
"Lord Lucerys Velaryon, however, is most displeased that he was not to be named for the position."
Myrcella stopped eating the grapes and turned to the woman. "Is there a name for the new Hand?"
The years visiting these women, who welcomed with her cautious but open arms, taught her that Chataya's girls probably knew as much as what went on the Red Keep as Varys. The girls' knowledge had helped Myrcella many times over.
And knowledge in King Landing was worth more than gold.
"Qarlon Chelsted. He hasn't paid us a visit in years, but the men speak unfavorably of him."
"Oh, the mace? Talla was his favorite, back when she was a fresh flower," Jayde spoke, she who was the younger of the group. "Talks about him often. He gave her that pretty pearl necklace. Said he stopped visiting when his wife died."
"Guilt. Not unusual but not that common either," Chataya offered her sage words, and Myrcella shifted in her seat. "He did favor Talla. So much she only had him in between her legs for years. It was how good he paid and wanted her. Back then, she hoped to get a babe in her belly. But never did."
"He never got one of his wife, either. His lands are likely going to revert to the Crown when he dies." Myrcella offered then tried to move from that topic at hand. "He is – or was – the Master of Coin for almost three decades. He is very good with numbers but won't be an effective war commander. His father was a great warrior, but his son has none of his prowess. The King should have picked another man." She spoke freely, something Myrcella only did in that room.
What does it say about me and my sins that I only speak this way in a famous brothel, surrounded by prostitutes?
"That's the sentiment of the men," Chataya agreed. "They wanted a stronger hand."
"They want Lord Lannister." Jayde corrected, a glass of orange juice hand, her body sprawled in the pillows.
Myrcella's eyes traveled to Jayde's neck and lower, where pale skin picked from her robe. She blinked, focusing on the issue at hand. "Well, my Lord Father won't come, rest assured. And the circle of men around the King grows smaller and cowards with each passing day."
"Is there any hope to defeat the Usurper?" Cass asked, without any malice, only curiosity. "The way men speak of this Robert Baratheon, even those who still call themselves loyalists, made him sound almost godlike."
"He is not," Myrcella replied with certainty.
"Have you met the storm lord?" Jayde asked in a tense tone.
"Once, at Harrenhall. Where this mess started."
"He's ugly? He must be." Lily asked from her seat by the table. Myrcella wasn't surprised by seeing her brewing something. But Myrcella was surprised she was talking. Lily didn't judge or say anything about Myrcella's trips and companions, but she had not yet been comfortable to share her own voice.
Myrcella remembered Robert Baratheon very well. He was a giant of a man with dark hair, a strong body, and chiseled features. The Warrior in given form, she had thought when she watched him win the melee. "He's handsome," she offered, her mind remembering how she blushed when she saw him. She hoped to have controlled it this time around, or she wouldn't be able to live it down.
"More than the prince?" Jayde asked, her blue eyes locked on hers.
Jayde was a beautiful woman, in her opinion the most attractive of Chataya's girls. Tall and shaped with curves that left men watering, her round face, dark blue eyes, and lush rosy lips gave her a feminine allure that made her stand out. Like Cass, Jayde would pass as one of the ladies of the court. But beauty and loveliness were what Chataya's brothel was known for.
Still, there was something magnetic about Jayde. One couldn't help but just be drawn into her.
"Different beauty. Like you and Cass," she gave her a slight tease.
"Who is Prince Rhaegar?" Lily asked, her eyes shining with humor.
"Cass," three voices replied at the same time, and then laughter filled the room.
Once they calmed down, Cass asked in a low and almost frightened tone, "What will happen if the Mad King loses?"
"Don't call him that!" Chataya immediately spoke.
"There is no one here to hear us. Ironically, this is one of few places we can speak our mind." Cass spoke with a sudden passion. "So here is the truth: King Aerys is mad; the rebels are going to win, and the Seven know what will happen next."
Myrcella couldn't help but nod along.
"Have you gotten word from Lord Lannister?" Chataya asked while Cass looked elsewhere but her.
"Yes. I keep contact with him," Myrcella confessed. "Not frequent, but enough. In the last letter I got from him, he spoke of Jon Connington's youth and inexperience. I guess he was right. He called the army, but he'll stay put until a likely winner comes out of this."
"I had a knight in my bed who returned from the Battle of the Bells, a Staunton, new costumer, but he called himself the heir," Jayde offered, and Myrcella tensed, "he spoke of the Battle, said the people of the town..."
"Stony Sept," Myrcella added.
"There. He said the people turned against the King's Hand and hid this Lord of Storms until the Starks and Tullys and Arryns came. He said the loyalists were doomed as long as the roses stayed put in Storm's End."
Myrcella knew little to nothing of the ways of war before coming to King's Landing, but between books and conversations with Elia, she was starting to understand some. And the picture was clear. She said as much to her friends.
"Tarly was the only one who managed to defeat Robert Baratheon, but he had two times the men. Now Lord Baratheon has half the kingdom on his side. And Tyrell and Redwyne won't move from their very comfortable position sieging Storm's End," she confessed.
"Morale is down," Chataya continued for her, "Even in the city. People know the war is almost done. Soon Robert will come for the capital. King's Landing has never seen battle."
"It came close to it with Daemon Blackfyre," Myrcella remembered, then she gave these women a piece of information of her own. "Gerold Hightower left the city to get Prince Rhaegar. And Doran Martell is sending Dornish spears to join the battlefield."
"Another battle," Cass whispered, hugging her daughter close.
The conversation turned to court gossip. Her friends told her secrets that men seemed to share with the women they bedded. Myrcella made sure to remember all the bits of information that could be of use and ignored Jayde's snarky comment at the men who picked blondes or green-eyed prostitutes with delicate features.
At least an hour was spent drinking, eating delicacies, and sharing tales. It reminded Myrcella of easier times which she now cherished. She had laughed until she had tears in her eyes, and her troubles seemed to go away for a time.
Myrcella felt young again.
Soon, Lily followed the girls into another chamber and left her alone with the blue-eyed beauty, with whom she got closer and closer over time. Once the door closed behind them, it was easy for Jayde to push Myrcella's body until she was laying down on the bed.
"This isn't why I came." Myrcella protested in a weak tone when Jayde began to kiss her exposed throat and undo her laces.
Jayde looked up and grinned before kissing her. Myrcella didn't stop her. Jayde was not the first woman she kissed – she was the second - and to this day, Myrcella doesn't know what signals gave her unnatural desires away to the prostitute, but since Jayde kissed her almost a year ago, they had never stopped it.
Myrcella wanted to move her hands and delined Jayde's lush body with them. But since Jayde climbed atop her, her arms had been locked above her head. Myrcella liked that, and Jayde knew it. She was playing dirty, she wanted to say, but her lips didn't want to part from her lover's.
As the kiss deepened, turning into a group of them, Myrcella felt the desire pouring in her womanly parts and soft moans filling the room. Wrong. Shameful. Her mind screamed with a voice that sounded a lot like her septa.
She had begged the Gods as to why they made her broken and so wrong. They never answered her. Not even her confessor in Casterly Rock seemed to have an answer when a young Myrcella had asked him if it was a great sin to kiss a girl like a maid would kiss a boy. But the next day, Aunt Genna came to her in the library and took her to see the squires and knights training and made comments that made her blush and feel improper. Her companions began to rotate more, and it became harder for her to make friends when the girls changed every few months. At some point, she had stopped trying to make friends.
Father had also, sometime later, when her moonblood came, asked if she had met any lord or heir she would wish to marry. Stupidly, she answered.
Not long after, Addam and Jaime were sent to squire at Crakehall, causing Cersei to hate her even more. Worst of it all was Father, who looked at her like she was his greatest failure. To this day, she still doesn't know what the correct answer had been, only that she failed.
A septa, Myrcella had decided when once again she felt the desire to kiss a pretty lady, she would become a septa and dedicate her life to her faith and those who needed her. It would be the best way to fight her unnatural desires.
But the same Myrcella who tried so hard to be a true maid and not give herself away to wanton desires was moaning in a luxury bed in an expensive brothel underneath a prostitute of her sex.
But Jayde's kisses were so sweet and warm. She missed feeling warm. Missed her ladies and sharing a bed with them, trading giggles before going to sleep. But most of all, she missed waking up in the middle of the night and feeling so warm. Now she awoke after nightmares of screams and green and fire, and all she felt was empty and cold. Alone.
"Stop thinking and feel," Jayde said as she ended their kiss.
Breathlessly she replied, "This is wrong Jayde."
"Many things are wrong, and we do it all the same. I bed men I have no desire in, and the septon preaches that is wrong. Must it be wrong to share my bed with those I desire as well?"
Her mind flashed to Cersei, the well and the girl screaming in the silence of the night until there was nothing but silence and Cersei's cruel smile. And Briony's words. "There is nothing you can do, my little lady. Lady Cersei is your father's daughter. And that girl is – was – a mere knight's daughter. Please, you must forget what you saw. For your own good, Myrcella, forget what you saw tonight."
"We mustn't lay with anyone who is not our husband, or we shall be punished," she repeated the words she heard so many times.
Jayde silenced her with another kiss, her experienced hands moving towards her exposed breasts, making Myrcella burn all over her. She gasped in pleasure, and for a time, lost herself in the pleasures Jayde gave her. She moaned Jayde's name as her lips left her own for her collarbone and breasts. Their legs intertwined as Myrcella began to feel Jayde's pounding heart and the swell of her breasts. Myrcella never wanted this feeling to end. But she missed Jayde's pillowy lips. Freeing one of her hands, she pulled a smirking Jayde into a passionate kiss.
Shameful. Disgusting. The voice began again.
"Please," she whispered moaned, both wanting Jayde to give her more and to end it all.
Her lover took that as a sign to enlaced her undergarments, and as Jayde's fingers traveled to her womanly place, Myrcella realized that Jayde would take this farther than usual. Kisses and sweet touches were one thing, but whatever Jayde had in mind would dirtier her beyond salvation.
"Please Jayde, this is wrong," she pleaded, feeling her eyes burning, and finally realizing both her hands were free, she pushed Jayde slightly off her.
"I should have tied you up." The woman protested then grinned. "You would like that."
"Jayde, enough!"
"Don't give me one of your septa speeches. I slept with men I'm not married to many times. A day! Most who were married to other women... Where is my punishment other than a beautiful woman denying our pleasure?" She said, adding a grin to her last words.
Jayde was always grinning. It was both beautiful and frustrating.
Myrcella shook her head, and with what it seemed went her entire body.
"How can you visit us for years, seeing what happens in here and still believe the Gods care who we share our beds with?"
Myrcella couldn't respond. She had asked herself that many times.
"Chataya's Gods are the right ones, I'll tell you."
"I can't. I told you, this is wrong. I shall be a maid forever to pay for my sinful behavior. I'll take the Septa robes as soon as I am allowed."
Jayde rolled her eyes, "You're the Great Lion's eldest daughter. You can't be a septa."
"Even princess have dedicated their lives to the service of the Gods."
"Gods! You sure talk like a septa. Cella, stop this! There is nothing wrong with wanting a woman. Or bedding anyone. Look at the examples around you. Look at Cass. She is one of the smartest people in this town. You taught her how to read in two years. And she bedded knights and great lords alike."
"And she got a bastard from one of them!" she shouted. "A girl born of sin. She is tainted with her blood to be lustful, wanton, and a to betrayal -"
Jayde pulled her back onto the bed with great strength and sat atop her abdomen. Her eyes darkened with anger. If not for her status, Myrcella would have been slapped. Perhaps she should have. "How can you say that! You held her in your arms since she was a babe. She is nothing more than an innocent child! And if one day she grows up to be something your sensibilities do not approve of, it won't be because she has tainted blood!"
Those words shamed Myrcella more than anything else since she entered the room. It all became too much, from her sleepless nights to Jayde's kisses. It was all too much. Her burning eyes turned to waterfalls, and she could no longer stop her sobs.
"Oh, Cella." Jayde pulled her into her arms. She is so warm. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you like that."
"My fault," she choked. "I tried to be good. I tried to save them, but he killed them. I can still see their heads atop the walls. And the Queen. Gods, Rhaella! She is gentle and good, but her eyes. Gods, they're lifeless. Because he – he-"
"Deep breaths, my love." Jayde encouraged while petting her hair.
"I am going to be next, Jay," she shuttered, "Soon or later, he will order me to his bed. Everyone knows it. He whispers how he'll make me his wife, but I will be no more than a whore."
"No," Jayde said gently, a long finger tracing her face, "You will be his victim."
"I don't want to be," she sobbed in her arms, "I just want this to be over. I just want to go home."
Author's Note:
Dragonlord001: Yes Myrcella is capable of influencing Aerys, but it does come at a cost to her own person. I think Robert will not be prepare for Myrcella.
GabiLime14: Myrcella is a kind soul in a dark place. Her scene with Jaime was one of my favorites to write, mostly because both of them have a point, and in which their words will come back to hurt them. I hope you like this chapter as well.
Ra.joligon: Elia will come next chapter. No smuggling is to happen in it and unfortunately, Elia's fate is not going to be a happy one.
Yochan123: Myrcella is a knight on her own right… As for Aerys. Aerys sees her as his queen-to-be, a Joanna he can marry, and wants to keep her "pure" until they marry. Unfortunately, he is unscrupulous and mad, and there are other ways of abuse he can perform on Myrcella.
Guest (1): I do use Grammarly, thank you.
Guest (2): A pious soul in a bleak world… I might steal that one for future chapters. Myrcella is a refreshing character and a type I never wrote before but I am having a great deal of fun writing. She comes more naturally to me than I would imagine. She does embody the traditional feminine role in Westeros's society, but unlike most, she does truly care about her people. But she is not a perfect little rose either.
AAALLlIII333: Jaime is a fool, but he is young and heavily influenced by Cersei. But he might begin to crack soon. His elder sister – who took on a motherly role – is after all being abused in front of him, all to protect people who he likely cares little about… He might begin to question some things about the world after all. As I showed you, Tywin did try, but Myrcella wanted to stay and her a court position that allowed her that.
Sarada: Thank you!
Sayukira: Muchas Gracias por tus amables palabras.
Lordfinn: I hope the waiting time hasn't killed you : )
Basker: Thank you so much for your comment. I am so glad you understood Myrcella's character from only two chapters. She is indeed a Lannister, just not a narcissist one like most of her family and in a way, she might be the best player of the game of thrones out of all of them. But despite all that she is still a good person. I do want to show that a good human being can play the game of thrones as well. Elbert Arryn will survive. He will be incredible in debt (and very loyal) to this bright, intelligent (and beautiful) young girl. No one should trust Aerys, the next chapters might get a bit darker (not explicit because I cannot write abusive scenes, but scenes that will allude to it). Myrcella inherited Lann the Clever's silver (or is it gold?) tongue. Sack is happening with sweet Lady Myrcella there indeed. Her reaction to it might shock someone people in Westeros (mostly Tywin).