"She'll realize soon enough," Myrcella said, running a brush through her hair.

Cate glared at her from across the room. "She's a thirteen year old who only knows about the romances she's read in her stories."

Myrcella laughed, the sound sharp. "And are you any different, Lady Dragonknight?"

"No, it -" Cate rushed to explain herself. "It's different, at least I know romance isn't like the stories!"

"You're three years older. She'll realize life isn't some song, and she'll adjust accordingly." Myrcella was now braiding back the gold strands. "She's already adapted pretty well to King's Landing. You and I will be there to teach and lead her."

You and I. There was something nice about the casual way in which she said that. Cate, reclined on the bed, leaned her chin on her palm. "You think she'll listen to us?"

"I'm the princess," Myrcella flipped her braid over her shoulder and padded to the bed, "and you're her older sister. She'll have no choice. I'll lock her in the Maidenvault if she refuses to listen."

Cate snickered as Myrcella flopped onto the bed next to her. Not long after Joffrey and Sansa's betrothal was agreed on, Myrcella leveraged it to make Cate, Sansa, and Arya her official companions in a quicker time than it usually took. Sansa and Cate would wait on Myrcella during the day and Arya was invited when she wasn't busy with her dancing lessons, but Cate was needed in the morning to help Myrcella dress. To shorten the time it would've taken to get from the Tower to the princess' chambers, it was decided that Cate would share her bed at night.

Neither girl was tired yet, and Myrcella suggested they play a game to pass the time. "Two Truths and a Lie," she said, "You say three things, one of which is false, and I have to guess which one it is."

"Sounds boring," Cate said.

"Then we'll fall asleep faster."

Cate giggled. "Alright."

Myrcella loved embroidery, but hated singing. "I can't hum a tune to save my life," she confessed.

"Oh, I love singing!" Cate said. "Sansa and I used to sing together in the evenings."

Myrcella discovered Cate had more of a green thumb than she let on, and tended to her own winter roses back in Winterfell.

Cate was horrible at figures, but Myrcella loved bookkeeping. "I like things to be organized and neat," she explained. "Figures are a lot easier to manage than brothers and queens."

"I couldn't imagine what I'd do if I had brothers like Joffrey," Cate said. "I love them so much. Even Theon. I miss them."

"I wish I had older brothers like yours," Myrcella said. "I watched you all when we were in Winterfell - it was hard to believe that a brother and a sister could be so close like that and be happy. Even with your half-brother and foster-brother, they all were so protective of you."

Cate laughed at that. "Hardly! One time, Robb and Theon sheep-shifted my bed."

"Sheep-shifted?"

"They cut a hole in my mattress, dumped sheep dung inside, and got Arya to patch it back up so that my entire room smelled like a barn!"

The two giggled. "That's harmless, though," Myrcella said once they'd settled down.

"It's diabolical!" Cate exclaimed. "But I got them back for it. I took an entire pail of spoiled milk and balanced it over Robb's door, so when he pushed it open -"

The two of them shrieked, laughing. "Mother made me embroider handkerchiefs for a month afterward, she was so mad!"

"Well no wonder - you're cruel!" Myrcella teased. "I could never do that to Tommen!"

Cate scoffed. "Tommen does what, play with cats all day? He's too sweet. I wouldn't even put salt in his tea, I don't think I could stand to see him cry."

"We're getting off track," Myrcella said. "It's my turn!"

Myrcella loved spicy food - the hotter the better - especially eggs cooked with Dornish peppers. "They set my whole mouth on fire," she said gleefully. Cate was horrified, if a bit impressed. She didn't have a food preference - "No wonder, Northern food is so bland," Myrcella said, setting Cate into a defensive outburst - but if she had to pick one thing to live off of, it would be blackberry tarts.

("We don't have as many ports as the South, so we don't have access to spices," Cate argued.

"Would it hurt to experiment with foods besides mutton and barley?"

"Pardon me for not living up to the standards of a princess!"

"I love simple food! I love a good slice of bread and fresh butter as much as the next person, but for the love of the Mother, a drizzle of honey and a few slices of dragon pepper never hurt anyone!"

"... There's an entire song about why eating honey is a bad idea."

Myrcella threw a pillow at Cate's face for that, and after another fit of giggles it was Cate's turn.)

If Cate could learn anything that her mother would approve of, it would be the high harp so she could compose songs of her own - songs about the women who fought, like Jonquil Darke, Alysanne Blackwood, Nymeria, Visenya, and Elissa Farman.

"And if your mother didn't need to approve?" Myrcella asked. "What would you learn then?"

"How to fight with a sword. And to fight on horseback," Cate added. "That would make me more useful on a battlefield."

Myrcella learned how to play cyvasse from a Dornish envoy when she was eight, begged her Septa to ask her Mother to give her a set when she was nine, became an expert on the rules at ten, and by eleven had beaten her Uncle Tyrion in a match.

"The Imp?" Cate asked, unimpressed.

"He's more than his nickname," Myrcella quickly jumped to her Uncle's defense. "He's fiendishly clever, enough to rival his own father. If he weren't a Lannister, he'd be the greatest threat to our house."

Cate flipped over on her side. "You say that like you admire him for it."

A flush crept up Myrcella's neck. "Maybe I do," She said. "Everything Robb and Jon and Theon are to you - that's who Uncle Tyrion is to me. He taught me how to protect myself against … you know, using words instead of blades or fists. Not just so I could protect myself, but so that I could shield Tommen from the worst of it. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to Tommen," Myrcella confessed to Cate. "And Uncle Tyrion's not just my defender, or my teacher, but he's … I miss him so much when he goes back home. I never feel more alone in this huge castle than when he leaves."

Cate, though she barely knew Tyrion Lannister, found herself nodding. "I understand," she said truthfully. "I completely understand. The trust you share -"

"Yes!" Myrcella exclaimed. "That's exactly it, trust! He's the only one I can trust in this gods forsaken city, and when he's gone I have no one, not until …" she trailed off then.

Cate's heart was thundering in her ears. Say something, anything, she thought, ask her 'until what', but nothing came out.

"He arranges all my lessons and tutors, you know. Tells me what subjects I should study and helps me find the best available across Westeros and Essos. I asked him to." Worry flashed across her face. "Mother doesn't know that, either."

"She'll never find out," Cate promised.

Myrcella's head turned to look squarely at Cate, emerald eyes searching her own grey ones. Cate watched her back, breathing in the orange and ginger scent of the sheets. A slow, sweet grin spread across her face, and Cate felt the corners of her own mouth turn up in response. "Thank you, Cate. You …" her head turned, eyes looking to the ceiling. "You have no idea what it means to me, to have someone to trust here."

"I've never had friends before," Cate confessed.

Myrcella grinned again. "Are we still playing? Because that definitely sounds like a lie."

Cate laughed. "No, no, it's true. I'm not playing. I was never like Sansa, all courtesy and elegance and drawing in girls like flies with honey. Not that there were a lot of ladies my age in Winterfell. Sansa and Arya were the closest thing I could count as friendship, but siblings don't really count."

"They really don't," Myrcella quipped.

Both snickered before Cate continued. "But I'm glad we're friends now, Myrcella. If I can call you that."

"Absolutely! In fact, I hereby forbid you from addressing me by my title when we're together."

Cate giggled. "I am at my princess' command."

The grin on Myrcella' face turned sly. "Oh, forgive me, Lady Dragonknight, I didn't realize I had to pardon you as well."

"Never!" Cate, her voice dropping several octaves, exclaimed dramatically as she captured Myrcella's hand. "You, my princess, are too worthy of the title. I refuse to address you as anything else!"

"Hmm, very well, I grant your request. Anything more you should like to ask for, my lady?"

"Nothing." When had they gotten so close to each other? The distance between them before now was only an inch, and Cate could see the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of Myrcella's nose. Her long lashes, blonde at the tips, fluttered delicately over her green eyes.

Myrcella leaned just a hair closer. "Are you sure?"

It slammed into her then - the realization that she wanted to close that gap, the empty space between them, and fill it completely.

Cate froze.

This was wrong.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way.

Not about any lady. Least of all the princess.

Didn't the Faith preach against this? Didn't the Seven-Pointed Star say she could go to hell for this?

This was so wrong.

(Yet why did the idea of kissing her sound so perfectly, utterly right?)

She leaned away, and something imperceptible flickered in Myrcella's eyes.

"Wasn't this game supposed to make us fall asleep?" Cate asked, not really expecting an answer. "It's past midnight. We should try to sleep."

She quickly shoved herself away and turned over on her other side. It didn't stop her from hearing the hurt and confusion in Myrcella's voice as she said, "alright."

It didn't stem the longing Cate felt as Myrcella blew out the candle.