JEFFERSON

'Please stop looking so sad Papa. This lady will not like you without your smile.' Grace scolded him as she buttoned up his doublet. Jefferson forced a small smile for her benefit but that didn't quell the overwhelming sense of fear and failure that had built up over recent weeks.

'I don't want her to like me. I want her to take one look at me and utterly refuse.' He pouted. It was almost as if he were the child in this situation. They had both taken the news of possibly suiting a lady of a prominent house very differently. Grace narrowed her eyes at him playfully before moving a stool at his feet. Taking the gold, rose stitched scarf she stood on the stool so she could tie it about his neck.

'That would be impossible. You look far too handsome for her to refuse you.' She said simply and stepped down for a moment to unwrap the jewelled rose brooch from the silk handkerchief on the bed. It was the only precious item that he hadn't sold to try and clear his debt.

'Grace.' Jefferson sighed with a soft blush. 'You understand that if she doesn't then our lives are going to change.' That was what he feared the most. A new wife would also mean children and heirs and goodness knows what else. Olenna had deliberately kept him in the dark of the proposal she had set up for him. She didn't want to give him an excuse to complain.

'You do what you have to do Papa. I understand,' She smoothed the creases in his shirt and admired her handiwork. 'If she doesn't like you I will eat your boots.' She giggled and kissed his cheek before hopping back down.

At noon Jefferson was met with the calculating stare of Lady Olenna Tyrell. Grace was in the care of their maid and he had been ordered to meet with his step mother back at the luxurious gardens of the Tyrell home. She studied him for what seemed an age and gave a small nod of approval.

'That will have to do I suppose.' She said in her usual clipped manner and hastened her arm in his and practically dragged him across the gravel path toward the already gathered crowd. For a step mother she was fair. Instead of cursing her husband for his disloyalty she had thought of Jefferson as another opportunity of branching out their line of power. His first marriage was tragically short lived and she had been anxious to get him remarried ever since.

'Why are all these people here? I thought this was going to be a private affair?' Jefferson bent down to whisper quickly. He thought he was just going to be meeting a woman but it seemed there was a formal party going on. Typical.

'Keep that mouth of yours shut and just do as you are told Jefferson. I won't have this ruined.' She answered ignoring his actual question. She walked him over to who Jefferson instantly recognised as Lord Selwyn Tarth. She parted from him with her hand outstretched so that the Lord could take it.

'Lady Olenna, you are as ravishing as your gardens.' He greeted with a light kiss of her hand. He watched Jefferson from the corner of his eye but his thoughts were masked by a neutral countenance.

'Lord Selwyn, this is my husband's useless bastard son.' Lady Olenna began and Jefferson couldn't help but choke at her words. That was surely a disastrous way to offer a proposal? 'His name was however, reinstated by our recent King. He holds the name Tyrell and he bears it proudly. He is awkward and at times absurd but considerate and kind…for a man. He is fair and respectful and he will make an honest woman of your daughter.' She finished with a curt nod. She was known for being blunt and honest with the truth. Despite the previous insults Jefferson was quite humbled by her last words.

'I am eager to join our houses.' Lord Selwyn said after studying Jefferson for a few moments. 'You have made good use of your motto Lady Olenna and I have respect for the growing rose. My eldest has been very recently engaged but my youngest will suit him well.' He spoke to her not Jefferson and he knew she wouldn't be particularly happy about being second best. It would have to do though.

'I am honoured that you think so my lord.' Jefferson inclined his head managing a smile. Lord Selwyn turned and beckoned from the crowd a young girl with drawn back blonde curls. There was something about her that seemed familiar and his heart was leaping out of his chest. Now was the time that he wished she would reject him and leave him and Grace to live alone, but he wasn't that lucky. The girl, who couldn't have been older than eighteen approached with her freckled cheeks ripening with a blush.

'May I present to you my youngest daughter Nila. Nila, you are to be wed to Lord Jefferson Tyrell. I think you may want to spend some time with him.' Lord Selwyn said no more and took Lady Olenna's hand and guided her around to the fountain to discuss further matters. That left them alone. His step mother was right, he was awkward and as Jefferson looked at the pretty young girl with a weak smile he felt at a complete loss. She wasn't that much older than Grace. He couldn't do this…

'If I may say so milord you are most handsome.' Nila bit her lip as her face crinkled into a nervous but happy smile. Jefferson's ears burned and his heart sank, he felt so sorry for her. She should be falling in love with a young boy of her age and experiencing the world and yet she was now stuck with him.

'Please Nila, call me Jefferson but someone as young and pretty as you are deserves better. I'm sorry.' He sighed but it seemed the only part she paid attention to was the compliment which she took with a smile and cast her eyes downward.

'I'm old enough to be your wife Jefferson.' Nila assured him looking back up at him, her blush only now receding. 'I hope I'll serve you well and-'

'Oh don't talk like that Nila. You will be my wife not my servant.' Jefferson corrected her gently wishing her to know that from the start. He watched as her confusion turned to delight.

'I'm ever so happy that I have been chosen for you! My sister will be most pleased when she hears it.' She enthused stepping toward him. Her smile dipped when she saw that Jefferson didn't seem as excited as she did. 'Are you not pleased with me milord?' She asked her voice quiet and anxious.

'How could I not? Don't mistake my hesitancy for displeasure,' The last thing he wanted to do was upset the poor girl. He had loved once…maybe he could love again? He took her hand gently in his and bent so he could find and stay in her eyes. 'You are beautiful; I would be honoured for you to be my wife.' A smile found its way back to her lips and Jefferson noticed that her hand had trembled before he had taken it. She must be terrified in knowing what was to be ahead of her. He was before his first marriage.

'My father wishes to have a duel wedding and it is to be soon…' She trailed off as her small fingers traced along his. In her beauty there was innocence and he could tell that any other man might have mistreated her for that.

'Do you know how soon?' Jefferson asked trying not to sound nervous again. Everything was moving so fast. That was the problem with arranged marriages, always a rush to the Sept.

'No, you see it all depends on when…there she is now!' Nila enthused as she must have spotted someone from behind him. 'Alice!' She called over and as he turned to face whoever Alice may be, Mila placed her other hand on Jefferson's arm. 'Jefferson, this is my older sister Alice. Alice this is my husband to be Lord Jefferson Tyrell.' She beamed. Jefferson meanwhile had completely frozen at the woman who had hastened toward her sister with a wide smile. There was a reason why Nila had seemed familiar. She looked a lot like her sister. She had that brief flicker of surprise in her eyes but she didn't act upon it.

'Good day milord. Nila how is it that you have the pleasure of a handsome rose as a husband?' She teased. Jefferson wanted to gape but he thought it best if he continued with this charade.

'Only the best for the prettiest daughter of Tarth.' Jefferson quipped to which Nila giggled, blushing profusely. Alice on the other hand raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing across her lips. The same one she had worn after pulling down her hood that night. The night she had bested him a dice.