Current Day

Ser Lyle Crakehall, or so that name stuck in her memory, for anything but , and she shook her head.

"You would have to ask Roger."

Like she cared. And then for his next, as though she had not been asked, and her rescuer took what food they had left, and his army had arrived too late.

"Perhaps," said Ser Lyle, "If you find yourself… "

Rylene gave a bitter laugh.

"There can be none to follow me. Not since... "

Ser Lyle had naught to say. Their attentions soon past. The lions, she knew, would move on, and she had less men and food than before.

Her rescuer, his looks she could not deny, formed in her mind only a utility as a shield, and even then, nothing could penetrate her. She was black inside by the greatest fist around her stomach and not for many years, would her mind even begin to budge the cow pat growing inside, which she wanted to flay open and scrape out.

"Is there - no one?"

Her rescuer's eyes were kind, but she could afford him no pity. What her body could not resist, the gods could not revive.

And he is no god.

"He was slow like a turtle."

Rylene found it easier to sit upright, not for staying strong, but for remaining alert. The corners of her eyes had never known such love, by how often she darted them from side to side, and her face could not conceal a wholly manic look on account of not entirely being awake.

"But he was mine."

"Your - "

"He is dead. He cannot still be… "

Jaime Lannister resisted to lay his hand over hers. The lions slowly trooped out in the rain. Her remaining garrison and the smallfolk eyed her in whispers.

They think me weak. Even now, they will elect among themselves a commander to lead.

Rylene sat behind a tattered screen.

If only I was at Hayford… Ermesande is as good as mine.

She felt the turnips twist, and then she braced to feel full, and there was a thud in the chamber pot. Her bowel promised hours of pain.

If only I could shit gold, then we'd have a future together.

There were yells, and then she saw a trio wielding blades and flashing smiles below. The smallfolk clambered behind a door and her garrison grit their teeth.

"White star wolves," said the man-at-arms who had been elected, turning to Rylene. "Sit down , my lady."

Rylene obeyed. This satisfied him for his mind was now on battle. She had no doubt the odds were in their favour.

She would be stuck in this tower for evermore…