Breakfast was the first meal of the day after the long fast that followed a night of rest. Meria was sitting at the table and was sipping hot tea from a mug. Orys was sitting next to her and was eating a cake, while the twins were sitting on the other side of the table. The children may have been very similar in appearance, but they had different tastes because while Brandon preferred the sweetness of peaches, his brother Aegon preferred the sour and less sweet taste of orange.

"After breakfast, you have practice. Try not to be late." Said the woman, turning to the twins, who had a bad habit of being late for training, something for which their Maester of arms constantly scolded them. She had suggested that he make them train five minutes longer than the other students for every minute they were late; it seemed to work, as the twins had started to be more punctual.

"Don't worry, mother, we have no intention of training more than the others." Replied Brandon, who of the two was the more obedient one. The woman smiled lovingly at her second son. The appearance of her second and third son largely clashed with that of his elder sibling because while Orys' hair was dark and his skin olive, the twins were fair-skinned and their hair was silver blond hair like their mother's. As for the eyes, however, the color was more similar since Orys's were blue while those of the younger brothers were a blue tending to purple.

"You, on the other hand, Orys, have class with the Maester shortly." She said, turning towards her eldest son. Orys was very punctual, unlike the twins, and rarely arrived late anywhere. In fact, he tended to arrive at places well in advance, sometimes even too early. The little boy straightened his back and placed the cake he was eating on the small plate.

"Yes, mother. Today we will speak of Maegor the Cruel." He affirmed. He had great difficulty with dates and years and tended to get confused. Furthermore, he had once told her that the death of Aegon I had occurred a good five years in advance, and she had kindly corrected him.

"Be sure to pay attention and remember that history is important. We must learn from the mistakes of the past so as not to repeat them." She said in a stern tone, and the child nodded his head in assent.

A little later, Meria was alone in the room. Her sons had gone to class and training, and she hoped that Brandon and Aegon would not be late because while the punishment of training longer than their fellow trainees seemed to tempt them to arrive on time, it also meant that their schedule for the day would be altered, however slightly.

"Princess Meria a letter has arrived from your husband." The servant announced, handing her a small scroll. The woman recognised her husband's coat of arms in the small sealing wax that sealed the scroll.

"Thank you." She said, taking the message. The baby inside her swollen belly shifted, and she sat down on the small sofa under the window and opened the message.

Dear wife,

I am pleased to announce that my trip to Dorne is coming to an end and that I will soon return to the capital. I look forward to re-embracing you and the children, and to feeling little Oberyn move in your lap.

Your cousins are sorry that you did not come with me, but they understand that it is unhealthy for you to travel considering how far along you are in your pregnancy, and they asked me, jokingly, if you think this one will also come a month early like the others.

Trystane is still mourning the death of his wife, although fortunately, he no longer neglects his children. Everyone is still worried about him because he seems to have lost all the joy of life and has lately lost the bad habit of drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

Hoping to see you all again soon, your lover and faithful husband.

P.S. I imagine what expression you must have made when I wrote that the next child will be a boy, but trust me when I tell you that I have no doubts and believe that Oberyn would be a perfect name for him, and we have received your cousins' blessing to name him that. If instead it will be a girl, maybe we can call her Elia, Dyana, or even Rhaenys.

Meria's lips curved into a smile as she finished reading the letter, even the Maester seemed to share the theory that the child growing in her womb was another boy. The smile, however, quickly faded from her face at the thought of Trystane. It had not been long since his wife's death. Theirs had been a brief but happy union, and a pure and sincere love had united them. She heaved a sigh as she thought of her poor cousin, who seemed to be starting to take a turn for the worse. He prayed to the gods that he would not end up like Robert Baratheon and that he would leave the door open to love and that one day he would meet a good and worthy woman.

A few weeks later

Unlike his older brothers, Meria's fourth son had not arrived a month to earl yin, in fact, he had even arrived a little late. Another boy, just like her husband had said. The mother would have lied if she had said she wasn't sorry, but that was the way it was and the important thing was that he was healthy.

"Oberyn, you know you don't look exactly like your namesake." She joked, staring at the small face of the newborn, whose small lips parted as if she wished to reply. The new father smiled sweetly; he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I told you it was a boy." He said, kissing his wife's head. The other stared at him.

"It will mean that Elia, Dyana or Rhaenys will be born next." She replied. "He has your hair." She added. Oberyn had indeed inherited his father's hair.

"But he has your eyes." He retorted. "The queen keeps looking down on me. She may have blessed our union, but I am uncertain if she will ever accept me." He added in a sombre tone.

"Time, love, there is only time needed. I am sure the queen will soon understand your value and if we have a daughter next time we will name her after her." She said softly, thinking the woman would soften if they named their first daughter after her. "It's not such a bad idea since there is already a young Elia in fact, two counting Oberyn's daughter, and if we should have more daughters it will mean that I will impose the names Rhaenys and Dyana on our future granddaughters." She added in a joking tone. Her husband seemed to soften at hearing her words.

"I love you, though I think the queen has a point when she says I am not worthy of you." He admitted. His wife looked into his eyes and stroked his cheek.

"Don't say that and don't even think it. You are my impossible love." She said. She had not been very lucky with the men she had fallen in love with, it was as if her fate was to fall in love with good and kind men, but wrong men and at the wrong times.

When she woke up, Meria took a few seconds to realise that it had only been a dream and when she did, a great sadness invaded her, and she began to cry. It was not the first time she had cried, and she ached at the thought of the children she could never have after Orys. She knew she should be grateful to the gods that there were women whose wombs remained perpetually empty or who lost their children, and yet she could not help being sad.

"My lady what is the matter?" Asked a worried Lily. The maidservant slept in a small bed in the other 'room' that made up the tent. Her bed was smaller and apparently less comfortable than her lady's.

"I dreamt that I was pregnant, happily married and had twin sons." She revealed. Lily hugged her and gently stroked her back. "It will never happen, Lily, even if something were to happen to Renly and the God's forbid, what man would want to marry a woman incapable of bearing him children?" She observed. The other dried her tears with a silk handkerchief.

"You must not lose hope, my lady, and then you have Orys and Lord Renly is kind." She had spoken those words probably with the intention of reassuring her and partly appeasing her pain. However, a moan escaped Meria's lips, a moan reminiscent of a wounded animal, and she began to sob louder.

"I am a bad person. I should thank the gods for what I have instead I only think of what I would like, but how can I not do that whenever since I was a child I have been told that a woman's duty is to marry and have children and that a woman's worth is measured by the number of children she can bear?" She said, her voice broken with sobs. "What if I am also a bad person because I would like a husband who really loves me, but instead I should give thanks for the fact that he is kind and loves me in his own way, and we are happier than most." She went on thinking about Robert and Cersei and how her existence would have been more dramatic if she had married a man like Lord Frey who was older than her grandfather.

"No, you must not say that. It is normal to love and to wish to be loved, and don't you always say that love is never wrong?"

"Yes, but there are also rules and I have broken one." She replied. She had believed she was doing the right thing by sleeping with Robert because it was her duty to produce an heir, but she had still committed adultery and because of her Robert had done it too. Of course, the Seven were probably already angry with him for his constant betrayals, but the fact remained that he had driven him to betray his sibling, to produce a bastard, and although in her heart she believed she was in the right that what she had done was necessary, she could not help feeling guilty.

If her mother had still been alive, she would probably have reassured her and maybe even scolded her for giving too much importance to what Faith said. She heaved a sigh trying to calm herself and ran a hand through her hair.

"I need some air." She said. She got out of bed and after putting on the cloak she kept on the chair beside her bed she went out into the night. The stars were shining in the sky. It was beginning to get colder, and it was not surprising since they were approaching the borders of the North. She greeted the man who was guarding her tent was not Tymor because although his sworn shield was quite protective, even in an overly protective way, he too sometimes needed to rest.

"Are you feeling well, Lady Meria?" The man asked worriedly. A Baratheon soldier, and indeed a stag's head, was engraved on his armour.

"Yes, it's just that I miss my son and have been dreaming of him." She replied. In part, it was true, although she had left the tent not because she was suffering the distance from her son but because she was sad for the siblings she could never give him, or at least not her because surely eventually Robert would spawn another bastard with who knows who. She was partly consoled by the thought that she would not be the one to bear his child and, among other things, she wondered if it was so wrong to hate the father of her child, perhaps she should only feel gratitude towards him.

"I suppose it's normal. You know I have children too and I miss them. I think of them often." The soldier replied. He had dark hair and wore a beard.

"My son is only a baby, and he will soon be three months old. I wanted to breastfeed him myself, despite the fact that everyone was against it, but then the queen insisted that I join the procession going to the North and I had to choose between continuing to breastfeed my son and risking him getting sick because of the cold climate in the North or giving up breastfeeding him and leaving him in the capital." She replied. She heaved a sigh. Furthermore, she believed she had made the right choice by leaving her son in the South, and yet a small part of her could not help feeling guilty.

"I think you have made the right decision." The knight replied.

"I need to take a walk." She affirmed, hoping that walking would help her clear her head. Of course, the man offered to accompany her, and she knew full well that his was only a feigned request, so she nodded. They walked around the camp together, when they arrived at the king's tent, she saw her father standing guard and instinctively walked towards him.

"Meria you should sleep." Said her father.

"I miss Orys." She replied. A gesture of her hand was enough for the soldier in her husband's service to turn away. Who knows if he was aware of his lord's preferences. While she had spent at Storm's End, she had heard the whispers of servants, all seeming to pity her and Tymor had confided in her that some had insinuated that Orys might be a bastard. Those insinuations, though true, had hurt her. Her sworn shield had also added that the servants did not seem malicious. In fact, they seemed to blame her and did not condemn her, and yet she had felt like a real shit.

"It's normal, you know I missed you too when you were in Casterly Rock, and I was in King's Landing." He replied. "Or when you lived in that village with your mother." He continued.

"Then why didn't you let me live with you." She said without thinking. Jaime moved and looked at her seriously.

"You know I couldn't. I tried to keep your existence a secret as much as possible." He affirmed.

"Why didn't you send me to Dorne after my mother died?" She asked for some reason that night she seemed in the mood to ask uncomfortable questions. Jaime looked into her eyes. She could not see the green colour of his eyes because his face was shrouded in semi-darkness; however, she could still catch a glimpse of something in his gaze and in his face…. Regret?

"Your mother didn't want to, and I was selfish. I would rather not part with you, and if I sent you to Dorne, there was a risk I would never see you again." He replied.

"You wrote to Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn behind my back for years." She exclaimed in an accusatory tone. Tymor had been surprised when he realised that she was unaware of the correspondence Doran Martell and his brother had exchanged with Jaime for years, and she still could not understand why they kept it from him.

"The Lannisters and the Martells are not on good terms, and I feared my father would not be pleased that he would consider my correspondence with them a betrayal of sorts." He affirmed. "They cared only for you and your welfare. I had decided to send you to Dorne. Eventually, I realised it was better for you that you would be safer, and I put my selfishness aside, but Lord Tywin decided you should marry Lord Renly."

"In the end, it was not a bad idea. Lord Renly is kind, is a good husband and a good father." For some reason, she could not quite understand, she had felt compelled to defend her husband. Jaime stared into her eyes for a long time, and she had to summon all her fortitude not to look away.

"Yes, I am convinced." He replied. He did not seem convinced at all, yet she preferred not to insist and merely smiled.

"See you tomorrow." She waved goodbye and followed by her guard dog towards her tent.

Meanwhile, several miles away.

Orys had woken Renly with his crying. The lord did not sleep in the same room as the infant, yet he had heard the infant's cries all the same. The man had let out a sigh, got out of bed and after dressing had gone to his wife's room where the cradle was.

"Lord Renly, go back to bed I'll take care of the baby." Said the wet nurse. What was his name already? At that moment, he was not quite mending it. He approached the woman who was standing by the cradle with the infant in her arms, who kept crying and didn't really look like she wanted to calm down.

"Give it to me." He ordered. The woman hesitated, then placed the infant in his arms. Renly tried hard to remember the Dornish lullaby his wife had taught him, and began to sing softly to the baby as she rocked him. It took a while, but eventually Orys calmed down.

"He misses his mother." Commented the wet nurse. It had not been easy after Meria had left because Renly had begun to cry often for no apparent reason. Immediately the father had become worried, fearing his son was ill, but Pycelle had reassured him, although the old man's face had taken on a strange expression when he had noticed the large birthmark on the infant's belly. Renly had asked him anxiously if there was anything wrong. The old man had told him no; however, the lord had not calmed down and had sought the opinion of another Maester a less important and perhaps less knowledgeable than Pycelle who had reassured him that the baby was fine.

"Yes, everyone misses him." He replied. Even during the pregnancy, which Meria had spent most of at Storm's End, he had suffered from her distance because she was one of the few women in his life with whom he felt free to talk and who he did not expect him to try to seduce her or to be particularly friendly towards her it was nice to live with someone and not have to hide a significant part of himself from them. Meria knew his tastes and did not judge him, even though he had great faith in religion. Lucky had been lucky to marry Lady Meria and to think that at first he had been angry at the thought of having to marry a bastard, but how many women would be just as understanding and kind?

"At first he did not like my milk and refused my breasts, only then he had to give in so as not to starve." Commented the wet nurse after he had returned the infant to her. "You know, this is not the first newborn that I am nursing, and it has already happened to me that newborns initially refused my breast because they were previously used to their mother's." She continued.

"My wife was breastfed by her mother." He revealed.

"'Dornish? Dornish noblewomen often choose to breastfeed their infants, unlike the rest of the nobles in the kingdom." She replied. "You are a good father. Most of the fathers I have met were not so considerate of their children, and never did one of them sing a lullaby for their child to fall asleep." She confided.

"All fathers are not the same." He replied, feeling positively impressed by the woman's comment, who smiled.

"No, you are right." She agreed.

"Good night." He wished, then left the room and returned to his own. Loras had been asleep when he had left, but now stared at him from the bed on which he was sitting.

"Did you go to see how your son was? The Maester said he is in good health, he is just restless because he senses his mother is not here." He said in a reassuring tone. Renly stretched out on the bed and Loras moved closer to him.

"Pycelle made a strange face when she saw the birthmark on his belly, and I keep wondering why."

"The other Maester said it's nothing, just a birthmark, and that you don't need to worry." He said, caressing his chest, then kissed his neck as his hand went down to the hem of his trousers. Renly kissed his lover passionately and soon forgot the worries that tormented him.