Petyr Baelish liked a mystery and the unexpected disappearance of the Stark girl was one of the most intriguing he had come across for some time.
To think the girl had run away from them all using the cover of a violent out of control riot to do so. He wasn't convinced that she had come to such a bad end – the girl had gone to ground, and if there was anything he was good at doing it was delving into the underworld of King's Landing. If she was still out here, he had no doubt she would be found.
It was rather amusing that Varys himself was exerting his resources to try and find the girl and he didn't seem to want his assistance. No doubt Cersei had promised him a handsome prize if he was the one to find their very valuable hostage in one piece. It would be satisfying beyond measure to spoil his game, would it not?
Perhaps now would be a good time to go and check up on his 'investment'? The Northern lass was not easy to train, time was running out if he wanted to be ready to send her north.
The subterfuge would work, he told himself. The only people who would recognise the deception had a vested interest in keeping their silence and it would help to bind Lord Stark's territories to their new masters. He'd heard Roose's bastard had rather particular tastes so the girl would need more detailed and concentrated instruction.
Perhaps he ought to take it in hand personally?
In an airless room on the Street of Silk a young girl of six and ten with tangled dark hair lay on the bed, her face buried in the bedclothes. Only the heave of her shoulders as she sobbed could be seen.
"Come lass, let's not have any more of this." an older woman with dark red hair said firmly as she tried to rouse the girl from her miserable stupor. "We have work to do, and Lord Baelish is on his way. How do you think he's going to react when he sees you like this? What man is going to want you weeping and crying?"
"Have mercy, Ros-" The girl trembled as she pleaded with the woman. "I can't. Please-"
Ros made an impatient noise and swopped a look with the other women in the room. "Such a fuss, Dancy-"
The other woman bared the girl's back tracing the raw weals and bruises on her back. The girl whimpered weakly in pain, too worn out and unhappy to protest any more. "She really can't. They made a mess of her back last night and she needs time to heal."
"He's on his way to take her in hand personally, that's what the message said. How can we present her like this?" Ros fretted. "- he wants to send her back by the end of the summer, Alayaya. We have two months to train her properly for his purposes."
Alayaya's full generous mouth thinned into a disapproving line. She shook her head about the whole sorry business.
"- and if they push her too hard she's going to be no use to anyone. Baelish is going to have to be patient. Jeynie needs sleep for now-" She slipped a small crystal vial into the palm of her hand and poured some wine into a goblet, adding the contents once she was done. She swirled it round to disperse the contents. She handed it to Dancy to feed to the girl who was falling asleep with sheer weariness.
"C'mon Jeyne lass, drink up." Dancy propped her up, slowly pouring it down the girl's throat.
Ros raised her eyebrows. "More sweetsleep? She'll get addicted if you aren't careful. I've got her on enough Dornish sweetleaf as it is to help her sleep. We want her compliant, not comatose!"
When Baelish arrived at the brothel he was disappointed to find that Jeyne was out cold and unable to be roused.
"What on earth did you give her?" he groused.
Ros gave her colleague a smug glance from under her lashes. "Dancy might have been a little heavy-handed with the sweet-sleep. I tried to tell her-"
"Sweet-sleep?" he exhaled sharply through his teeth. "How much did she give her?"
"A small vial. And the girl had some sweetleaf as well."
He turned to Dancy in irritation at his thwarted plan. "You only need a couple of drops to calm the girl down, not knock her out like a light. You'd better check that she's still breathing. It would wreck my plans most terribly if she didn't wake. I still have need of the girl-"
"She was agitated. There was no way you would have been able to use her today, ser. Jeyne is not up to it."
Baelish narrowed his eyes, as if he didn't like what he was hearing. "Not up to it? That's your professional opinion? Ros, what say you?"
"She is very hard to train, ser. I don't think she has any aptitude for the job." she agreed with some reluctance. "She weeps constantly, she is a very slow learner, she has no enthusiasm for her work. And considering the specialised nature of her training requirements-"
"So you don't think that Jeyne will be ready for her Northern adventure.?" Baelish questioned keenly.
Ros couldn't suppress a shiver of disgust. She remembered the tales from back home in Winter Town about Ramsay Snow- whispers of depravities beyond measure, his wicked games with innocent young girls and very sharp flaying knives. Jeyne wouldn't have a chance with someone like that not at the stage she was at in her 'education', but they were being paid to prepare her for the Boltons and that's what they would do. There was no room for pity in their line of work.
"It seems I'm going to have to take her 'education' in hand personally." Baelish said testily. "Let us pray it is not too late to get a satisfactory result."