i. Robyn took a sip of the iced milk. "It is so hot. This blasted summer," she groused unhappily, adjusting the collar of her dress.
"Be thankful then that we were not invited to Dorne. You would have certainly melted there," Visenya laughed. She looked ahead, eyes roaming over the small garden. "These roses are very pretty, are they not?" she asked, pointing to a bush of rose coloured blooms.
Her mother had adored roses. Visenya remembers that her father had told her once that the Winter Roses had been her favourite of all. Blue roses native to the wild North, Visenya had never seen any. The Queen held a strong dislike for them. Which was understandable, but still, it was a pity. Flowers were just flowers, after all.
ii. A hiss spilled past her lips. Visenya lifted her finger upwards, holding it in the light. A fat drop of blood started a track down her skin. The small cut she had acquired stung. Visenya placed the digit between her lips and gently sucked on it, coating it with saliva. Her tongue gingerly traced the cut.
She looked with narrowed eyes at the book in her lap. It sat there innocently, black ink decorating stark white paper. Betrayal coursed through her, alongside disappointment and anger. She pushed the object off of her lap and it landed on the ground with a satisfying thud.
"And what has that book done to you?" Robyn questioned, lifting her eyes from her embroidery.
Squaring her shoulders, Visenya released the finger. She bent over and picked the book up once more, opening it.
iii. Maester Willyn gazed at her with his wide, light-coloured eyes. "House Tyrell has sent a gift, Lady Blackfyre. If you would care to inspect it. Also, a message came with it."
Visenya was not active in the matters of court. Suspicion welled up inside of her. It was not unheard of for her to receive gifts. But there was almost always an expectancy for favours when such happened. The noblemen thought they would obtain the King's understanding in some matter or another by sending gifts to his children.
With a sigh, Visenya rose from her seat. "Robyn, you may remain here. Let us go, good master and see what this is about, shall we then?" She did however like the fact that she was not left out, for there were times when some lords did overlook her.
iv. The might beast stood in its stall, tall and proud. Visenya admired the light coat. "He is beautiful," she said, holding her hand out. The horse bumped his nose against her skin, sniffing lightly. Visenya beckoned for a stable boy to being her one of the apples. "Here you, boy. Take this, It's good."
"Willas Tyrell chose the horse himself," the messenger told her. "It's the finest beast, my lady. He breeds them himself"
"I see," Visenya said softly. She glanced towards her new pet one more time. "It is very kind of him to have sent me his finest."
"My lady," the man bowed to her. Visenya allowed him to take his leave.
"What say you, horsey? Shall I reply to this Willas Tyrell favourably?" she asked the animal. Intelligent eyes looked into hers. "What? You think I should find some more information of his character?"
v. "What should the King say if he finds out about this, Visenya?" Robyn questioned, sitting with Visenya in the grass beneath an apple tree. "Besides, you know very well that House Tyrell is no different from all the other houses of Westeros. They wish to make use of you."
"Or perhaps they are desperate," Visenya suggested. "Either way, this is the very first time I have had a suitor of my own. Is it so bad of me to wish to enjoy it? He sent me a wonderful horse, Robyn."
"It is easier to catch flies with honey," her cousin pointed out.
"You needn't worry for me, Robyn, best you think upon other matters." They both looked at the sky for a few moments. "I shall reply to him on the morrow."
vi. Rhaegar kissed his sister's cheek. "I daresay you shall be happy here," he told Daenerys. His sister fiddles with the string of her cloak. "The Queen will remain by your side too and Rhaenys shall stay for a time as well."
"I know, brother, and I am ever grateful for their presence. It is just that I wish you would have remained longer as well," his young sister replied, linking their arms together.
"Quentyn Martell will be a good husband to you," Rhaegar found himself repeating. Daenerys merely nodded the second time around. He knew not what else to say to her. Quentyn Martell was truly a good sort of man and he seemed to genuinely like Daenerys.
His mind involuntarily touched wistfully upon a memory of him and Lyanna.
vii. Elia was dancing with her younger brother. Rhaegar downed his wine and signalled for his cup to be refilled. The first strains of the Dornishman's Wife rang through the air. Boisterous laughter filled the hall. He wanted nothing more than to be a thousand miles away. Alas that could not be.
Someone sat down next to him. Rhaegar turned his head towards the intruder only to come face to face with his brother. Viserys nodded at him and took up a wine cup of his own. "Brother, you should be joyous upon this occasion, else it shall be whispered that you are displeased with the match."
"There are times when what I think is of no import, Viserys. And this is one of them." The glasses clicked softly as they met. "To Daenerys and happy marriages."
"Far too few of those," Viserys said after he had echoed his brother.
viii. Visenya's letter came as a surprise. Rhaegar read the words of his daughter, written in her customary script and sighed. It seemed that the Tyrells had made their move. Rhaegar sat down on one of the chairs. How he wished Lyanna was with him.
A deep sigh came from within him. Bone-weary and drained, he allowed the paper to drop at his feet and curl into itself. The answer could wait. He did not wish to think on any possible alliances, not was it his desire to analyse the reasons behind the sudden interest in Visenya.
The only thing that he wanted was blessed numbness. If that could be had, he would happily sink in it. At least there he could block the daunting absence of those who should be by his side but weren't.
ix. Aegon stole into his father's bedchamber. He looked around carefully. Dorne was boring, he had decided not long after arriving. Bawdy jests and too-free women, his sister clinging to him and his mother's nearly constant insisting that he enjoy the beauty of her birth land had well put him out completely.
At least in his father's bedchamber he would be out of their reach and he could rest for some time. Aegon walked to the table and took a seat upon it. He carelessly picked up one of the papers, dragging it from under a small metal ring. The ring fell to the floor.
Aegon bent after it. His fingers, however, found not metal but paper. It seemed one of the messages had fallen off and rolled under the chair.
x. "He was crippled at a tourney, by a horse falling on him," Robyn read. "But for all that, his love for beasts has not abated. He breeds them and cares for them. He is scholarly apparently, well-read and interested in as many domains as you can name: history, agriculture, animal raising, breeding, poetry, music, geometry and so on, so forth."
"Quite the ideal heir, is he not?" Visenya found herself saying. "So very perfect. The only flaw being the crippled leg. You would think that ladies from all around would be beating down upon his door."
"And yet it is you he desired apparently, my lady," Robyn replied cautiously.
"Father has written that upon his return he shall have Ser Arthur accompany me to Highgarden."