It was midday before Shona joined her family in the Great Hall for luncheon. Her father sat at his usual place mid table on the dais overlooking a sea of Hightower men chewing their roasted duck and throwing back tall mugs of ale. Shona sat between her brothers shifting peas around her golden platter. She gave half an ear to the conversation around her but more so worried internally for Tyrion Lannister, and Sansa whom she had finally learned from Lord Leyton was indeed in Littlefinger's clutches. The weasel of a man was on his way North towards The Eyrie with Sansa in tow. Shona wondered momentarily with her brow furrowed as to what Petyr Baelish was planning to do with her friend. It surely was nothing good.
"You need to eat, love." Lord Baelor said to his daughter as he sipped Dornish wine. The red wine tinged his lips and teeth rouge like fresh blood. Shona smiled sweetly at her father and took a bite of plum pudding, which had always been her favorite, to satisfy the older Hightower. He nodded in satisfaction and went back to his conversation with Lord Eldric.
Cadlan and Bristan were still discussing Joffrey's death and The Purple Wedding as it had since been called. She watched in disgust as Cadlan clutched his throat in an exaggerated gag letting his eyes pop slightly making Bristan choke on his own wine.
"You both are incredibly immature." She snapped at the almost identical faces which turned to her in shock of the outburst on her behalf. Shona was naturally timid and rarely spoke out against her brothers, but she had seen enough.
"Come now, little Shona," Bristan chuckled wrapping an arm around her slender waist prompting a glare from the blonde beauty by his side, "we don't mean anything by it. It's all in good fun."
"Watching a boy choke to death is not fun to me. I will see his dying face for the rest of my days." Shona shook at the scene of Joffrey's veins throbbing in his forehead. Blood seeping from all cavities of his face and ears. The gasping breaths, the hysteria of the crowd, and Cersei's cries as she clutched her dying son. She shook her head and looked to Bristan in utter sadness, "You were not close enough to him. You didn't know him. He might have been cruel, but he was just a boy. What if that had been I?"
"We would never let that happen to you." Cadlan snorted as he continued to nurse a foamy glass of pale ale. Shona watched the bubbles creep upwards and pop against his mouth. She was half tempted to throw her own drink into his smug face that looked so much like her own. Cadlan would never understand her fear or grief, and neither would Bristan. They were tough Hightower men who could fear nothing in this world as of yet. One day Shona would pay her weight in gold dragons to watch them squeal like little girls and piss their pants in utter horror.
"Cersei is the last person I could foresee letting that happen to her son, but here we are. My friend is to be the next king, and our cousin his queen. A stupid golden crown has ruined my life." She flung her napkin down to the broad ash wood table and fled with black skirts flying behind her. The climb to her tower room was long in her fitting dark gown, but once inside its airy confines she lie atop the plush red adorned with grey and red silk. Her bird sang, Blaze lifted his head upon her entrance and let his slender tail beat against the plush rug he himself laid upon, and the waves below crashed with their mighty roar against the stones of Hightower. She had just closed her eyes when a loud caw rang from her terrace.
A raven with white speckled feathers flew down and landed softly atop her vanity topped with fancy perfume bottles and lip paints. In the bird's taloned feet was a scroll stamped with red wax. A seal in the shape of a dragon with three billowing heads. She jumped from the sheets and approached the bird warily who stared her down with dark eyes before letting out a screech. The bird kicked out a foot adorned with a leather strap which held the paper tightly to his skinny legs. His beak opened slightly in distrust as she sloppily untied the leather knot letting the paper fall free from the raven's grasp. It stared into her eyes almost in judgement before spreading its massive wings in flight. Shona watched the bird soar over the sea back from which he came.
The scroll was bound tightly and Shona scrambled to cut the seal with a nearby knife. The loopy writing was now familiar to her. The scroll was not signed but she knew it was from Lord Varys.
"Lady Shona,
Our voyage has started. We remain safe for the time being, but only time will tell. I will be expecting your arrival in Volantis in a fortnight's time. I am sure Lord Hightower has already discussed your departure after his funeral. I'm sure your tears with inspire them all. Do not trust anyone, not even me. Burn this after reading. Spiders are always lurking in every corner. Lord Tyrion sends his humble regards."
Her heart fluttered at the mention of Tyrion, but sank at the thought of burning the words. She bit her lip as she waved the crisp yellowed parchment over a lit candle before tossing it's flaming remains into the empty fireplace. It was much too warm for fires in King's Landing as well as in The Reach. Shona almost wished for the cold winds of winter she knew were coming. She pondered upon Sansa Stark once more as she sat down at her vanity. She almost did not recognize the face reflected back in the mirror. Dark bags had formed under her blue eyes, and her hair was a mess of golden waves. She ran a boar bristled brush through the tangles and knots remembering all the times she had brushed out Margaery's hair. She vaguely missed her cousin back in King's Landing, but dared not write. She need not draw attention to herself. Cersei, Shona was sure, had eyes on her already.
Shona jumped in fright as Malora appeared abruptly from the open terrace doors. Her usual curls were as unruly as ever. The spellbook was grasped to her bony chest once more, but her eyes were wide with wonder, "I wanted to teach you some spells. Some magic."
"Aunt Malora, I fear I do not possess the ability," Shona began only to be cut off mid sentence by her quirky aunt. The older woman shook her head, "You are. You can do magic just like myself, and my grandmother, and hers before that. You are stronger than you think. I can teach you."
"You can teach me what? What good would spells do in this world where steel can rip through my heart sooner than I can say a few words?"
"Spells can heal, and soothe. I know quite a few just from reading this." Malora handed over the water damaged tome and fled as quickly as she had appeared leaving a mesmerized Shona in her wake clutching a book she did not think could help her troubled mind. She let out a sigh and rested upon her bed staring down at the spellbook. It was plain as day with no gems or adornments. The only stitching on the spine was crudely done as if stitched quickly out of necessity and not desire for perfection. She opened the book and let it fall with a gasp as the pages started flipping showing words like amazverdagon and jaedos. Shona reached down almost in fear and touched a slender hand to the pages feeling the power surge from it's pages into her skin. She gasped and retreated and glanced down at the words again. The words almost made sense in her mind the longer she glanced at them.
Amazverdagon jaedos.
To create summer.
Shona was scared by the power she felt inside her herself suddenly and she let the book fall closed without a second thought. She could tell this was real, and for once in her life she realized her aunt was not mad at all. Malora was a witch, and so was she.