"Lord Stark," he said, bowing to greet him.
"Lady Tyrell," she leaned in response, straightening up and offering her arm "do we take a walk?"
"Of course, Lord Stark," she replied, feeling the heat reach her cheeks.
She took the arm that helped him and they set off at a leisurely pace, with their companions and guards a few respectful and discreet steps behind them.
Janna could feel the mass of the man next to her, burly and solid with muscles, Stark's arm felt like the branch of an ancient oak tree, so solid it seemed.
"He didn't bring flowers nor did he bring poems, ma'am, I'm afraid we northerners have little time for storytelling activities."
"Is it so, Lord Stark, did you suppose that I would not like them or that I was not worthy of them?" He asked, letting a little anger take over his voice.
"Oh, some poison, right? Well, they say every rose has its thorn, doesn't it? I like that Janna Tyrell, much more than the endless nonsense I've had to endure from excessive maidens whose parents expected me to like me too!
"In this case it's my mother, not my father..." Janna replied expressionlessly.
"Ahaha, even better, and much more lively than your poor sister, I think I scared the poor girl to death."
"I'm not afraid, my Lord, overwhelmed might be a better word."
"Overwhelmed, huh? Well, maybe, and you, Lady Tyrell, do I overwhelm you? The Stark asked, turning his face to hers and smiling with a smile that, despite its genuine warmth, had a conceit in its depths. Before she could answer, Janna Tyrell felt sweat running down her belly and breasts, she felt her innards turn into jelly, and an urgent moist heat growing between her legs. She swallowed, the air suddenly changed, heavier and with a musky and intense smell, her nostrils widened as she drank the scent, her pupils dilated as she looked at Lord Stark, seeing only the face of the warrior made flesh standing. above it.
"Lady Tyrell?" she heard him say, as miles away, "Lady Tyrell?" he asked again, and she blinked and staggered a little, falling against him, where his body found his pleasure as a burning fire burned along his nerves, pulling the air out of his lungs in a gasp that sounded like a groan.
Her companions were by her side helping her to stand up, she realized that they also looked a little blushed, what had happened to her, what magic did this Lord of the north exert on her and her companions? A sudden fear gripped his heart; the Starks were the First Men, practitioners of Blood Magic and worshippers of the Ancient Gods. Many legends were told about the Starks, especially about their 'wolf blood', was this Ned Stark a practitioner of magic, was he partly a wolf, as some darkly whispered tales told about the Starks mixing his blood with that of the Direct Wolves?
"Sorry Lady Tyrell, are you okay? Can we continue this hike at a later date if it doesn't feel well? " the Stark asked her face a mask of concern, but Janna saw the spark of fun hidden deep in her eyes.
He recomposed himself "I'm pretty good Lord Stark, I don't know what happened to me, let's not continue," he shook his head and cleared up all those senseless thoughts of magic and Direct Wolves.
"Okay, it's a beautiful day to take a walk, Lady Tyrell," she offered her arm and they set off again.
As they walked, they talked about this and that, unlike most men, he didn't monopolize the conversation, he let her talk about the things that interested him. And throughout the walk, Janna was increasingly distracted by the smell of Lord Stark. , it was a smell of musky and overwhelming man who was weakening her with desire, she wanted to tear her garments and see her hard body underneath, she wanted him to take her and devastate her at that moment. It was only with the greatest of difficulties that he was able to concentrate on what he was saying and what he was saying in return. If this was what poor Mina had experienced, then it is no wonder that the little girl was incoherent afterwards. Ned Stark was a man, no, that was wrong, Ned Stark was the man, the man his body wanted, he knew it from the pain in her femininity for him.
Él estaba diciendo algo, ella tuvo que obligarse a concentrarse "Preferiría casarme por amor, pero como ahora soy Lord Paramount me temo que eso será poco probable, pero al menos me gustaría pensar que el amor podría crecer entre dos personas".
"Eeeekk!" he squeaked in response: "Sorry, Mr. Stark, what I meant was of course, marrying for love would be preferable, and one would expect love to come later if it is not possible at first..." oh by the gods, she wanted this man so badly, what was it about him that drove her so crazy with an unbridled desire, her nipples strained on the fabric of her dress, surely he could see that, he couldn't see her bulging chest in the low-cut dress that her mother had insisted she wear, see the tiny beads of sweat along your hairline?
"Well, as much as I would like that to be the case, and although I don't have a father to force me to make a decision, marrying for love can't be my first concern. I will marry for covenants, for the sake of my people, not for love..."
There was a bitterness in her voice, Janna decided to press the point, forcing her thoughts back to the track, despite the desire song of her body. "Ashara Dayne..."
The Starks looked at her sharply "Oh, Ashara Dayne, the gods play cruel tricks lady Tyrell on us, they play with us like their toys, indifferent to our suffering. But sometimes they teach us a lesson, we shouldn't expect to have nice things, and that whatever good things we have will be taken away from us!"
Continuing their walk, Janna aching with lust while Lord Stark seemed cheerfully unconscious, asking her questions about the Reach, its geography and wealth.
They separated from what Janna, however, were good terms, upon returning to her room she ordered a bathroom removed immediately and close to tearing off her clothes to get into the steaming water as quickly as she could.
The boiling water on his skin soothed his racing heart, paradoxically cooling his hot skin, soothing his feverish state and allowing him to think clearly, he closed his eyes and relaxed for what seemed to be the first time in years.
"Well?" his mother announced, breaking his reverie, opening his eyes to see his mother pulling the servants out of the room.
"Lord Stark is a powerful man, he would be a good husband, but not for my mother" The thoughts of being so out of control all the time, of wanting a man so powerfully scared her to the core. She would not express her suspicions that Ned Stark was anything more than a man, a sorcerer, or a product of the unnatural mixture of the blood of men and the blood of wolves.
"Hummphh, very well dear, I will concentrate on Lord Tywin, the blond Lannister he is then!"