"Lyanna, you must get out of bed and make yourself presentable. It's your brother's engagement celebration! Up. Up. Up."

I rolled over and groaned exaggeratedly, but kept the arm with the onion in it's pit, underneath and away from sight. "Lia, I don't think I can get up."

Elia pulled back the curtains, then turned around to roll her eyes at me, " Poppet, who have exhausted all your excuses." She came forward and touched my forehead absently, "Now 'tis only your laz...Dear God, you're burning up! I must ring for Nan."

After half an hour of cool bandages Papa decreed I must stay abed. Elia was devastated as she wanted me to meet her future in-laws and i was looking forward to it as well but I didn't want to go and pretend to be happy while looking at Robert Baratheon's face. So i decided not to force my brother to make a choice, I made one for him and saved him the embarrassment of not inviting his childhood friend. Sisters are inconsequential when it comes to future dukes and socially well-known contacts.

Nan stayed with me throughout the duration of the party. The whole house was making merry and toasting Ned and Ashara's love.

"Why didn't ye go, lamb?"

"I wanted to spend this time with you."

"Do ye think after wiping ye and changing yer nappies I would not know when you're hiding something?"

I stayed silent and then sighed, "Isn't this better? I do not wish to mar my brother's happy day with my envy, Nan. It's better that I stay away."

As per her motherly nature, Nan ran her hand over my head and petted me consolingly.

"Will it ever happen to me?"

"Aye when ye meet the right man, lamb." She smiled.

"What is a right man?"

"One who loves, gives ye your own home and children." Her eyes started to look distant, "Would fight the whole world for ye. Forsake everything just to spend a minute with ye."


2 years later...

"...YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE CELEBRATORY BALL IN HONOR OF THE LADY LYANNA ELIZABETH STARK, DAUGHTER OF THE MARQUEES OF WINTERFELL..."

Robert smirked maybe a hundredth time while reading and rereading the invite. He placed it back on the side table and swung his legs to sit at the edge of the filigreed bed.

'So, the country rose is finally in bloom and ready to be picked?'

About fucking time too. It was high time that he claimed his intended. All that hide and seek was starting to grate on his nerves. He hasn't even had a glimpse of her in 2 years. Not at their Winterfell seat, not at Ned's engagement, never. Even the dressmakers were bid to come directly to Winterfell's town house as her cousin prepared for her celebration. This ball might give him an excuse to make sure to let her know what their fathers decided all those years ago.

Silly girl, thinking she could treat him like that. He had her at the palm of his hand once and he can damn well do it again. After this season, she shall realize how much he is sought after by ambitious mamas and young ladies. More so, ever since his father's death, because now he needs a duchess: a homemaker as well as a fine hostess. The latter could be taught with guidance and practice, which she shall get enough what with all his political career and social life. This was one of the reasons he was such a good catch. His family wouldn't find a reason to say no.

Besides, that long ago was just a childish tantrum, which she persisted to prolong and he obviously had to indulge her. He never wanted her to witness his indiscretions but after his 14th year he has not gone without a wench for long, ever. It was not his fault that Winterfell was filled with such Scottish beauties. Enough to make a boy forget that he's visiting his future in-laws. Oh but she had been mangnificent in her anger, he remembered her blazing eyes the last time he saw her.

Now he sees the error in his actions. She was supposed to think the world of him, hero-worship him, but it had all gone to hell. He never wanted a wife who thought less of him. He'd seen enough of that in his parents' marriage. His mother was disrespectful and defiant yet his father tolerated her out of love. Lyanna even at the fanciful age of 14, did not seem to care for his amorous relations and that worked fine enough for him. If she ever grew any recalcitrant bone after their marriage, he could always discipline her. Nobody sympathizes with an errant wife.

Love was never a part he wished to introduce in his marital life. From his wife, sure. Women are known to have such foolish ideals regarding marriage. He would take her love if she wishes to, he will after all make her a duchess. What else can a young lady want? She'll receive her due respect, and, if what his mistresses have said is true, acquire a handsome husband. He knows his effect on the fairer sex and wouldn't be averse of it if he could manage his wife as such too. That is exactly how life should be among a husband and his wife.

Not that she would have changed that much but even if she had gain some weight or has grown an unsightly mole on her face, he would still have to endure. He doesn't have the patience to hunt for a wife. She's: available, of good pedigree and at long last of age. The only things that should matter in a wife. His blood will make up for the looks in their sons. Just an heir and a spare. After that, they may live their separate lives. Her in the country, his in the city. She has lived all her life in the country without an inkling of what kind of vultures make up the haute ton. She'll see the wisdom in keeping her away from the city where he can keep on living his life as it is.

He reached out and fondled a soft, naked bottom beside him and smiled devilishly. Then again, what she doesn't know can't hurt her now can it?

No, she will do just fine and having a brother-in-law in Ned wasnt a shabby idea as well. He was already like a brother to him. Even that arguement 2 years ago didnt cause a rift between their friend ship. Robert wanted to punish the chit for what she almost cost him but stayed away at Ned's request.

Yes, he can't wait to go to this ball.

A small hand slid on his back and made him turn around and a smooth voice said sleepily, "Why are you up, my love? My body already feels bereft."

He laughed. Such pretty and practiced words. "Your love am I, Dela? So what will you do if I were to tell you I was up because I was reading the invitation to my future duchess's coming-out ball?"

He was sure she winced behind his back, and smiled big. She wasn't even his mistress and still can't deny him, good little harlot that she is. That brought him the thought of his present mistress Fleur, a luscious French piece and how she was going to have his head if she knew he was in some other woman's bed. Nothing a pretty trinket can't upease and after a bout of vigorous sex he shall tell her he's letting her go. He wasnt going to give her time to think. Can't be too sure about all the Starks hounding him about his licentious affairs. Fleur wouldn't be disappointed, he'd make sure of that. No, he was a generous protector.

Every whore is sweet after being thoroughly rogered and every woman whores herself for something. Like Dela, she whored for him for love. What a joke, when the reason he broke off their arrangement was because he caught her in bed with Baelish. Whores are fickle like that. Last night was nothing but a sort of a sweet revenge. He grinned while remembering Baelish's face as he swept her away.

No man's pride can withstand a slight like that. His didn't thus he never forgot.

She laughed brazenly and stretched like a cat. She was aware of the effects the sight of her naked body had on a man.

"A man doesn't have to love his little wife. I'm sure you have your reasons, your Grace but I didn't mean to sound presumptuous. Please forgive me." She purred an apology while running her tongue along his ear.

Robert ran a hand down her flushed cheek to her handful breast and groped her, making her gasp. "Look how preetily you beg. Tell me Dela, why did you invite me to your bed last night?"

She sputtered, "You know why." His control while being intimate always left the tarts flabbergasted. He's never lost his head over a woman. Nor will he ever.

"But my solicitor meets you every week and always returns...mmm ...quite flushed." He goaded her. She was so beautiful any man would be tongue tied and flushed with embarrassment. Even her last cheating debacle was only a ploy to make him jealous. She really did claim to love him. If he gave her another chance she would never stray from his bed again. But she was history and the world is full of more younger and prettier women.

As expected she snapped back, "He lies and you know it! That lecher! I wouldn't even breath in his direction if it wasn't for you?"

"Then as far as I know everything is in order." He gave her a look that spoke of threat and a promise of it's fulfillment. He didn't have to wait long for the affirmative nod.

"Good. Heaven knows I'm paying enough." Then he pinned her with a lascivious look that always made his women breathless. "You'd do anything for me, Dela?" He leaned and kissed along the column of her neck and licked her puckered nipple. She melted immediately, making him smile.

"You know I would." She moaned and lifted her hips towards him in silent plea and clenched her fingers on his sex. She started to move her hand to arouse him again. God but she was as lusty as him.

He growled and arched her neck with her hair.

"You're my sweet little whore, aren't you?" He bit her lip.

She mewled. "Yes. I'm whatever you want me to be, my lord."

"You say you don't seduce men everyday, ma petite chatte, but you did exactly that to me." His fingers found her slick folds. He rubbed her the way she liked and then slipped in 3 fingers all at once. Making her pant and writhe beneath his hand.

"Oh God. You don't know how much I missed you, Robert." He bit and licked her flesh roughly all the while punching his fingers inside her ruthlessly just the way she loved it.

"Prove it." He stopped and layed on his back. "Prove it with that talented throat of yours"

Eyes lidded with passion, she didn't hesitate to climb atop him. Robert smiled at the above canopy with his hands behind his head. He can't wait for the ball but this was a nice way to wait.


It was drizzling outside when the Marquees of Valyrion entered the bookstore. He shook his coat and ran an idle eye over the inside of the shop. Somber and grey like the weather. He could not comprehend that the hold of a vast amount of knowledge can be so boring and lifeless. Bookstores should be lively and colorful, a testimony of the worlds they hold, not drab and monotonous. He walked in, while waving away the proprietor of the dreary establishment he turned to an aisle of shelves of scientific tomes and journals. He did not have the patience for his snivelling flattery.

His patience ran thin these days anyway. His father's deteriorating health, his impersonal betrothal and the resulting engagement, everything was wrecking a havoc on his mind. Ever since he could remember, he has always been worried. First about his mother and his father's cruelty towards her. He's spent most of his time, even as an adolescent, trying to hide his father's debauchery from her. Not that the duke made it any easy.

Then his little siblings. His father's lavish and extravagant lifestyle had almost cost them their lands and heirlooms, until he started handling the account ledgers himself. He actually made a profit by introducing new methods of farming to the tenants. Dabbling in different business ventures helped as well. 4 years he's spent overseas, making a fortune for the family that didn't deserve it. He did not care one whit that working was frowned upon in their society. He had people to take care of. Nothing less for them nor can he withstand it.

But now that he was to marry that too was done by exploiting his regard for his poor mother. Even she has disappointed him and divested him of a chance to seek a life partner who could share his burdens. Someone he could love and cherish. Who would be just his, and himself hers.

He sighed, all his life he has lived as a paragon. Now and then an idea to cry off the engagement came to his mind but he batted it away. He needed a distraction and not a female one. Mindless tarts who only drooled after his face and heritage did not impress him enough to ease his woes with them. Now knowledge, he thought while running his fingers over different book spines, any kind, could lift his spirits in a second. He found the journal he was looking for and stood to read a bit.

That Young chap really was trying to leave his mark in history. Soon there'll be a formula named after him. Valyrion thought if he could meet him and prod his mind. He could always use his station to pull some strings. If the scientist impressed him he would become a benefactor for his experiments. England needed young and fresh minds.

He was lost in his musings that he heard movement on the other side of the shelf. His eyes moved negligently from the pages through the books and froze. It was like a thunderbolt had gone through the length of his body.

'Winter frost.'

There was no other way to express the color. So beautiful, with a gray halo and a tinge of blue, surrounded by lush dark lashes. Those eyes, under highly arched and elegant eyebrows, were blinking at some books overhead, as the beholder pouted those lusciously pink lips in concentration. Wisps of rich brown hair escaped from an ugly bonnet and framed a pale heart shaped face. The Spector wrinkled her adorably upturned, button nose in distaste at something. His chest tightened at the sight. But then she suddenly smiled.

Valyrion forgot how to breathe.

The book in his hands almost slipped from his hands as he watched a dimple pop out of a soft cheek that was flushed with pleasure. She still had not noticed him, as he gaped from a shelf above, and did a quiet squeal and a jumping jig while hugging the book to her chest. She looked vaguely familiar, yet he was unsure because right then Valyrion didn't even know his own name. He absently pinched the inside of his thumb to see if he was really awake. She whirled to skip away and unbeknownst to his brain his legs made him follow. Her pale blue skirts halted in front of another shelf. He halted and stared at her which was so unlike him. She was young and short, he guessed 5 feet 4 inches approximately, but even through her shabby clothing he could appreciate a body with a promise to tease a man's senses.

As if feeling the heat of his eyes, she looked up. Their eyes met for maybe 10 seconds. A slow smile started to curve his lips but then he saw her frown. She insolently looked him up and down with a sneer then rolled her eyes and went back to reading.

'Well, old chap, there's always a first time.' As long as memory serves he never met a woman who looked at him so contemptuously before dismissing him. The experience was indeed humbling but he wasn't easily discouraged. He squared his shoulders and marched to her side. While he was softly clearing his throat to begin his address to this...this angry angel, she slapped her book shut and met his eyes head-on.

"Let me guess. You're a Lord something or another, a patron of the establishment and couldn't help but notice a single female showing an interest in books so out of the goodness of your heart," she again subjected him to that sneer, "you wished to supply your suggestions. Am I right so far?"

What's this? An angel with a tongue as sharp as a rapier. Valyrion frowned at her.

She hugged the book close and mocked a look of adoration, "How chivalrous, my lord. I am at a loss of words." She looked around as if she was going to swoon. In the next instant her face turned completely bland as she slowly straightened, "I can assure you, my lord, I neither require your assistance nor the honor of your acquaintance and I am sure by the look on your face that you agree. Good day." They kept on staring. She waited for him to leave and he, for her to finish.

Then without warning Valyrion threw back his head and laughed. A full belly laughter. It was so unexpected that she jumped a little. From the corner of her eye she saw some other patrons gaping at him as well. He wouldn't fault them, it must be a cold day in hell, to witness such a public display of mirth from him. And what was there in his life that would have ever make him laugh? Her silly playacting and then angry dismissal was not enough but knowing that she did it, was. That beautiful creature in worn out clothing, with amazing eyes that didnt widen in adoration but were spiting fire. When his shoulders stopped shaking somewhat, he looked at her to see her scowling deeply with her arms crossed on her ample chest. When his eyes lingered, she cleared her throat. He looked up and grinned. She made a scoffing sound.

Love at first sight. What a ridiculous phenomenon. Now, desire he could understand. Something that he felt right then, but what about that silly urge to hold her in his arms and never let her go? He never experienced it to know.

His smile turned soft as he looked at her like he has finally found something. Maybe he had. He raised his hand and grazed a thumb on her cheek. "Oh, but you are precious."

"Ray? You old dog, is that you?"

The moment was broken with Arthur's booming voice. The tall knight was already striding towards him and gave little time to bid a good bye to his vision. His eyes ran over her face, memorizing every feature. It was unlikely he would forget anything of this meeting. It wasn't everyday a man's whole world is changed. He was torn between staying to know more about her or meet his friend before Arthur could lay his eyes on her. He saw her biting her plump lower lip and quickly made a decision.

"Do not leave." He saw her blanching and added, "Please." He wasn't above pleading with her if need be.

He met his old friend halfway without realizing, that it also gave her enough time to slip out of the shop herself.


"Oh Lia! How pretty you look!" Elia Martell fussed at the young girl's shiny hair. "It's a miracle we were able to tame this hair. I think I might have to give Anna a little reward for it." Her Abigail smiled shyly at that.

The girl sitting in front of the mirror just stared without as much as a wrinkle on her face with excitement. She sighed and urged her resentment away. She didn't want this. Not this ball. Not this beautiful dress or the hairstyle she had to adopt to please a gathering of strangers. How could her father do this to her. All her life he kept her away from the opulence of the ton and now wants her to make her way into them. History has witnessed human race to have always shun a newcomer. Either one has to lay seige and make a place for him with brute strength or else expect to be brutally killed.

These so-called civilized people were no good either. While they are having ostentatious parties and balls, many little children slept with an empty stomach almost every night, at St. Giles. They do not care for anyone of lower station or anyone who different from them. Even though many of those children are their by-blows but of course these lords think, to ignore a matter simply makes it disappear. If they can't take care for their own flesh and blood, how come they are going to accept her, a country Miss? She'd rather spend money on those children than to embellish herself to avoid being denigrated by these popinjays.

"Lia."

"Hmmm?"

"Where did you go? And what made you scowl so fiercely?"

Lyanna made an effort to smoothen her face of her inner musings. "I don't think I'm looking forward to this evening."

Elia stared in that same thoughtful manner that always unnerved her, "There was a time when you could not wait for your come-out."

Lia snorted, "There was a time when I used to have imaginary friends too." That made Elia flinch.

"Alright. So, you've grown up. True. But that does not mean you do not have to enjoy yourself."

"I agree. If only my enjoyment was the primary objective."

"Lia." Elia chided softly, "Such a sarcastic tongue you've grown. It is highly unseemly."

"Elia, I leave my etiquette with Mrs. Deveril after my lessons. I am observed all the time, I do not want to be under scrutiny in my own room as well."

Elia sighed opting to leave the matter and address the main one, "Sweet love, 'tis a right of passage for every young lady. You're not the first one to go through it in order to acquire a husband neither will you be the last. Uncle shan't live forever, do you not wish to have your own home and cease living according to your brother's law?"

Lyanna's throat restricted with tears at the thought of losing her father.

"I do." She hoarsely answered. 'Avoid his law and become a slave to my husband's.'

She chuckled sadly and told Elia when she raised her eyebrows in question, "Caught between the devil and a deep blue sea." Her cousin smile and started arranging her sleeves. Those sleeves looked lovely against her soft shoulders and arms, even her collar bone was prominent. Though it looked attractive but Elia was worried about her non existant eating habits. That girl would live on pages if she could. Ever since they have set foot in London she seemed distracted all the time. Which reminded her...

Elia asked softly, "Where were you in the morning?" She stayed silent and watched the myriad of emotions play on the young girl's face. She had been like such since that morning. Elia even caught glimpses of silly smiles while she was being groomed and bathed.

Lia did give a slight start, as the morning's memories bombarded her. Her eyes drifted to her jewelry box where laid the evidence of their last meeting. Even now her hand itched to take it out and twist it in her fingers as per her newly developed anxious habit. She finally found her R. B. T. , or rather he found her. Her face softened at the memory of his laughter.

Never Ina million would she have guessed that the phantom that plagued her mind for 2 years had the face of a fierce Arch angel. He was tall like Papa but broader, his heavy lidded violet eyes, under expressive eyebrows, regarded her so softly. A straight patrician nose over a pair plump lips for a man give him a somewhat severe look. And Oh Lord his jaw...sharp enough to cut glass. Everything, from his starched white shirt to his coat, everything complimented his sun kissed complexion. Even his light tawny hair complimented that smooth tanned skin. It was long enough to curve below his jaw and it wasn't styled in that dandy way. No. It made him look like a huge Viking warrior.

It was an effort when she frowned at him and his silence only encouraged her. Had she known he was her R. B. T. she probably would have stuck her foot in her mouth. But she only noticed him after he opened his mouth and said,

'Oh, but you are precious.'.

Even now those words warmed her cheeks while remembering the feel of his thumb on her skin. Then it was like her knees have turned into mush. A chance meeting. In a bookstore. This was the stuff of epic romances. She was almost going to blurt somethimg truly embarassing but Thank Lord for acquaintances with bad timings, she was saved. When she ran away she almost turned back, worrying she might never see him again.

Ray. That R was for Ray. So simple yet how it suited him. She spent the afternoon rolling that name on her tongue while smiling to herself.

Maybe they shall never see each other again but she can spend the rest of her days happy knowing dreams do come true. True to her cynicism she never thought far ahead such as an elopement or a cosy cottage in Italy. No, she knew it can never happen and she had responsibilities to her family and father.

When she didn't answer right away Elia looked more closely at her face, "You've got the same smile that you had this whole afternoon." She teased, "What happened today?"

Lyanna averted her eyes, "Nothing. I didn't venture into a gin factory or anything." She met Elia's eyes, "Nothing extraordinary happened."

'Except for when the world stopped and breath froze in my lungs when he touched me.'

"I'm glad. We can do without scandal right before your debut. Thank God 'tis fashionable to rise late."

"Hmm"

Elia turned Lia around and smiled at her, "You're going to be amazing. It's impossible not to love you." When Lyanna snorted, she cupped her cheek, "You look beautiful. Remember, us women, we can bring pride only as such for our families. We can't fight this world and make our own name."

"You didn't always think that." Lia pouted.

"Well, age does change one's perspective, poppet." They both giggled. When they sobered Elia continued, "But I have seen 'tis best to leave the strenuous pursuits for the men, while we concentrate on doing part for a better future generation."

"That's your fiancé's love talking."

"Is it wrong? To be a haven for the man you love?"

No, it wasn't wrong. Unbidden images of chubby babies with violet eyes came in her mind, and a tall, tawny father lifting a baby on his shoulders. Lia shivered with a giddy feeling but suddenly frowned. 'What is wrong with me? We just met! It wasn't even a proper meeting.'

"Notice the emphasis on 'love', Lia."

"Do you think I'd let Uncle throw you at just anyone?"

"Oh so throwing is still involved." Lyanna said dryly.

Elia light slapped her arm, "Married. I'll fight for your love, Lia. But in order to find it, tonight is important."

Lyanna didn't doubt her. She'd lay her life for her elder cousin too. She hugged her and held tight.

"I'm just nervous, Lia."

"You've got no reason to be, Lia." Elia smothed a gentle hand down her back.

"You know, I think I love you." Lyanna giggled when Elia tried move away and hit her again but didn't loosen her embrace.

"You think!?"

Again when the giggling subsided Elia pointed out jokingly, "Told you they just pop out."

The younger girl moved back and stared down at her bosom then met Elia's eyes, which were shining with mischief. They almost fell over with their laughter.


The preparations seemed fine enough but the crush was unexpected for Cercei, she thought while drinking her lemonade. She heard from one of the dragons that the girl had lived her whole life in the country. She wouldn't be surprised to see a gawking and stammering country bumpkin as Lord Winterfell's precious daughter. Who was she joking, daughters aren't precious but just a mean to strengthen political and business ties. She could almost pity the bumpkin. Tonight the ton shall see her worth and what the men in her family might decide her price.

Maybe the people are here for the exact same reason her father brought her. Both Lord Stormend and Valyrion are to attend the affair. What better oppurtunity to parade their eligible daughters in front of them. Even though the Marquees of Valyrion is engaged, her father is still hopeful for a match. Low aim had always been a crime for the Earl of Casterleigh. She wasn't complaining though. Far from it. She'd die a happy duchess if Rhaegar Targareyen ever made her his wife. His looks are meant for art. His manner for poetry. Many a times she's heard him being likened to an angel, but a fierce one, because his strict and serious demeanor is no laughing matter.

On the other hand, Stormend has a look of a highlander warrior. She almost giggled imagining him in a tartan and that skirt-like awful garment. Oh but he was huge like a maiden's dream. He was known to be a good orator in the House and deviously charismatic. Though he never liked Papa and his ambitious nature. Who does? People are just wary of him because of his wealth and his closeness to His Highness. 'He has the King's ear.' is often heard in the drawing rooms as well as in gentlemen's clubs. But Stormend doesn't care for that, no, though a whoring wastrel himself he still believes he's above Tywin Lannister and his political schemes.

She sighed, suddenly missing her brother. If he was here, Casterleigh would have made him come and probably would have bullied him to court the Stark chit. Thank God he went on a tour. She saw her father motion for her and walked towards him.

Ties. Strengthening.

Ties. Politics.

"Yes, father?"

"I want you to befriend this girl. Introduce her to your circle, take her for ices I don't know but make it happen. I'll vouch for her at the Almacks too and let the news reach Winterfell's ears." He scowled then, "I wish that useless brother of yours was here. The sooner that dammed coutship begins the better. There is still a chance for Stormend to ask for her hand. Their families have always been close."

Cercei flicked the fan in her hand in dismissal and made a lady-like snort, "Stormend would never marry a country mouse. He needs a wife with social ties, who can be the perfect hostess and charm the wigs off his political rivals and allies."

"He neither needs nor wants such a woman. Men of the world like Stormend, prefer 'country mice'", he sneered at her, " because they find them biddable. Not a social butterfly who wouldn't give precedence to home-making." She had the decency to blush at being reprimanded. "Do what you are told. You'll be asked for your council if it is ever needed."

She managed not to duck her head in shame, old habits and all, "Yes, father."

Her father opened his mouth to say something else that a hush fell through the crowd and all eyes went to the grand staircase. Cercei jerked at what she saw. A single figure stood there and wearing a powder blue silk gown she looked like an ethereal vision. All the Stark men went to stand at thet lower landing, waiting for the young lady to descend. She looked calm and collected, not even a silly smile to show her nervousness or giddiness as she took her steps. Cercei recovered from her initial shock and heard the positive comments hum through the crowd. The girl reached her family and came down the rest of the steps on her father's arm. Lord Winterfell's smile was so proud, as he lead his brood towards his well-wishers, anyone who saw it couldn't help but smile with him. Her father grumbled under his breath as the girl came nearer, "Bloody Starks. She's beautiful."

She really was. Hers was an unforgettable face. A barely contained wild streak under a veil of innocence. Cercei thought that men are going to be tripping over themselves, trying to own that innocence. Then enjoy taking that veil off to expose that untamed nature, all for them. Men like to feel special that way. If how all the poppinjays were gawking towards the stairs is any indication, she'd say her prediction was right.

"Not as beautiful as you, Cercei." She heard her uncle Kevan say softly in her ear, "However bright a torch might burn it could never match the rising sun." That made her smile. That's exactly what she needed to hear.

Oh my, look at those eyes.

Such an angelic mien.

Not even a little bit of vulgar display of emotions.

'Yes, yes. We can all see that.' The Lannister goddess smirked and thought of her own come-out. Every family has to set their own style while presenting their daughter to the society. Hers was at Almack's. Father had planned it of course, to reveal his beautiful daughter to every ally and enemy. Her looks were the apple that was dangled for the competitors. Her heart clenched at the thought of an enemy gaining the hand of the Earl of Casterleigh's daughter inrevenge, only to punish him. What a cruel joke. The Earl wouldn't care if her husband hurt her, but would only if he reengages from the settlement. That should make her envy Lord Winterfell's daughter. He was acting like he exposed something very dear and expects everyone to treat her the same. Small wonder he planned it among friends.

Some pleasantries were made. Introductions were done. When they finally came to the Lannister family, Cercei saw with her own eyes that the words did not do her justice. But the girl seemed oblivious. She did not turn her neck left and right to stare back at the flock of dandies waiting to get her away from her father. She met Cercei's eyes doing a little lip twitch in greeting. While Cercei put on her most friendly and beguiling smile. Brandon Stark did a double take at her but the girl only raised her brows minutely. Cersei made sure to make a point by enchanting the surrounding male populace. She smiled coyly behind her fan when expected, batted her eyelashes when needed and flattered the ego of any man who talked with her. In short she put on one hell of an act. The girl just stared at her and their audience with an assessing and thoughtful look. She did not appear to believe one whit of Cersei's playacting.

Damn it all but her disbelief was unnerving. She supposed she had to bring her down a peg or two. Besides, it was bound to happen, if not by Cersei then someone else. She couldn't wait to see the brave mouse cower.

While Tywin, matching his daughter's smile, charmed the men Cercei tried conversing with her.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes."

"I remember my debut. It was the first time I felt my heart beat so fast." She made exaggerated expressions and fluttered her fan.

"Why?" The girl asked with a narrow eyed stare.

"Well. I kept on thinking if I would topple on the stairs or if people might think me homely." She kept her voice sweet and face kind.

"You look neither clumsy nor ugly. Did your debut change you that much?"

Cercei blinked in surprise at her unexpected frank speech, "No." , and laughed in a tinkly way, "How imaginative you are!"

"Am I? Or was your earlier comment not a remark at my homeliness?" She raised a brow in question.

Cersei sputtered "I...I didn't mean.." Then she saw the teasing light in the girl's eyes.

"You're actually quite good at it, you know." The chit replied in hushed tones with something like mild respect. Then they were moving on to their next guests.

Cercei gaped after them and shut her fan with a snap. The nerve of that girl! She made her, Cercei Lannister, stammer! She's known to cut ribbons out of dull débutantes like this village oaf, in her sleep. Oh but had father not told her to befriend the chit she would have let her know the edge of her tongue. How dare she mock her when she was only trying to be kind to her!

The first dance was between daughter and father after he excused himself from the present Dukes and Marquesses of higher rank . All the old dotards laughed and nodded in good nature, apparently everyone loved the gesture. When Lord Winterfell and the girl finally arrived at the center, it was only then that she smiled genuinely while looking at her adoring father. The gathered guests applauded while the rest of the couples joined them. The sight flickered out any anger she felt, only to be replaced by sad envy.


Damn Fleur's luscious hide, he was late. Robert winced while taking a velvet box out of his coat pocket. The marks on his back were a result of his interlude with his now ex-mistress. That woman gave as much as she got and he almost stopped himself from severing the contract. Maybe after a year or two he can find someone just as lusty. All good to those who wait, and wait he shall for the continuation of his line. Although Stannis and Renly can very well take care of that but he has to marry doesn't he? Why not sooner than later?

He looked at the box and smiled. No matter what he tried to tell himself, but he did form a small affection for the girl and was in a way excited to see that chubby face again. He could almost see her jumping into his arms and apologizing. He would of course, only after a stern lecture during which she would pout adorably. After the lecture if they were alone he'd kiss that pout into that dimpled smile and all will be well. The carriage stopped for him to step out to the front door of the venue. He went in, was announced and then immediately found Ned.

"So big boy. Where's that little brat?" His eyes ran above the crowd, tall height had it's perks, and spied a small grouping of young bucks and fresh gels but at the center was only one girl. A new diamond? Robert smirked, to whom even the Lannister vixen was paying homage. He looked to the opposite direction to find Lyanna. She could not be a part of that crowd.

"Firstly, you unmitigated arse, you're late." Ned grumbled lowly as his friend grinned at him.

"Secondly, you're looking at the wrong direction." Ned lifted his chin at the flock, "She's already surrounded."

"Ah. Your cousin must be introducing Lia to her circle. Wise choice." He ran a hand on the velvet box and murmured, "I'll just go and see what's that about." He started walking, ignoring Ned's urgent, "Wait!"

As he came near the center figure started taking a shape. He smiled as he took in the young lady's profile and body. God above but she was ripe. Soft looking at all the right places. He came a little closer and his smile started to dim into astonishment. Brown crown of hair, blue gown...frosty blue eyes... People parted to make way for him and he. Just. Stared.

A goddess held court amongst those poppinjays and giggling messes. In the middle of a merry revelry she looked like she was enduring their immaturity. Her fan slowly fluttered and once in a while her soft petal, pouty pink lips did a little twitch at something the crowd would say. She stood regal and without a hair out of place. She was beautiful. Enchanting. She was... He stumbled in his step.

All the other girls turned their simpering eyes at him and tittered behind their fans, finding his clumsiness endearing. While the rest of them laughed right out. He didn't give a damn at that moment and just gaped with wide eyes as the goddess laughed out too, showing a heartbreaking dimple in one cheek.

"Lyanna?"

Those big wolf eyes blinked as her body turned at the sound of his voice. She hadnt seen who it was then, must have thought of him as a random person trying to get in their circle. She held his gaze and there was a brief flicker of recognition which killed her smile and made her smirk, "I believe someone is fashionably late." There was no warmth or even a hint of amicable teasing. It was just to divert everyone's attention at him.

"Lyanna?" Robert repeated dumbly.

She stared wide eyed and pointed her closed fan to her well rounded chest. Robert's eyes along with everyone else's went down. His nostrils flared.

"Yes, I Lyanna." She said like talking to harebrained person, "You?" She did a patient slow eye blink making everyone laugh again while Elia Martell rebuked her, "Lyanna!"

Robert felt his cheeks tingle and with effort he closed his mouth.

"His Grace the duke of Stormend. Lady Lyanna Stark." His brother, Renly announced while chuckling.

"Little Lia?"

Elia smiled at Lyanna, "She's not little anymore, your Grace. And I think she's lucky enough to make new friends tonight." In other words she was a hit.

"We're the lucky ones Miss Martell." One of the bucks Sir Gothlam cheered.

"I hope we remain friends, my lady." Another one addressed Lyanna.

She fluttered her eyes and looked distressed, "Oh I don't know us village bumpkins have a tendency to embarrass themselves at the most inopportune times. Would you not be hesitant to have an acquaintance with someone like me?" She subjected him to a smoldering wide eyed innocent look.

The young officer looked like he might swoon, "Not even a little bit."

Her insecurity was found endearing because she didn't act even slightly as a country bumpkin.

"How beautiful." Robert breathed and finally made a voice but quickly snapped his mouth shut , all the people present had already witnessed him make an ass of himself, he needn't give them more fodder.

Lia smiled and curtsied, "Thank you." and he kept on ogling at her, she just lifted her eyebrow and stretched a hand towards the crush. "It is a beautiful gathering. My family outdid themselves, for the little ol' country mouse."

"Lord Winterfell only had to do was commission your portrait and show a glimpse to the world. People would have crowded your doorstep without an invitation, my lady." Robert threw a dark scowl at the pretty worded poppinjay. It was the Earl of Grisham. A dashing man Robert supposed.

Lyanna blushed prettily behind her fan, "How...how kind of you." She ducked her head which looked quite charming. This also made everyone smile at her adoringly, and Grisham saluted her with his glass.

She already had the promise to be the most sought after match. Not him. Her.