Chapter 8

Casterly Rock, 4 years ago

"So," Tywin began, studying his daughter intently. "Your thoughts?"

Serafina sat in Tywin's study; her attention focused on her embroidery. Tywin had just met with a merchant seeking a loan.

"I would grant him the gold," she replied calmly, still stitching.

Tywin raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

She looked up from her work. "Because his plan seems sound and feasible. Moreover, I believe he is a prudent man. He wouldn't request a loan, especially from you, unless he was confident in his ability to repay."

Tywin nodded thoughtfully, pleased with her reasoning. "What else?"

"He loves his wife and is unlikely to take unnecessary risks."

Tywin raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think that he loves his wife?"

"That little smile when you asked him how she was. And there was fondness in his voice when he answered."

"Ah. Very good. So, you believe that I would likely get my gold back?"

"Yes, with good interest."

Tywin had reached the same conclusion. He was very pleased with his daughter. Serafina was a smart girl. It was a pity indeed that she wasn't a boy. Yet Tywin often allowed her to stay in his study during all kinds of negotiations. He was curious to hear her thoughts; she was nothing like most girls of her age.

When Cersei had been thirteen, she had thrown tantrums and complained all the time. Serafina didn't complain; she was calm and quiet. She didn't giggle and gossip with other noble girls. And she didn't live in some fairytale world, dreaming about a perfect husband. Most girls only wanted their husband to be handsome, but not Serafina.

Tywin had asked her once what kind of man she would like to marry, and she had said a smart man. That was an excellent answer. Thankfully, the girl was nothing like her mother or most women. There was no drama or hysteria, only calm rationality. Tywin appreciated that very much. None of his other children had ever really appreciated his efforts to teach them, but Serafina did.

Tywin had big plans for Serafina; she would make an excellent wife to a man who could appreciate her intelligence and composure. As for who that man would be, Tywin hadn't yet made a decision. There were several promising options: Prince Doran Martell or his son Trystane, from House Martell; Ser Loras Tyrell; or perhaps the heir to Eddard Stark in the North.

Any of these marriages would strengthen House Lannister politically. However, Tywin was relieved that Serafina wasn't old enough yet. He wanted to keep her close for as long as possible. It was something he would never admit openly, but the truth was he had developed a strong fondness for his daughter.

Serafina followed Robb Stark silently to his tent. Seeing her brother like that had upset her, but she hid her feelings. She wanted to ask her captor would he allow her to help Jaime to wash himself, but she had learned from her mistake last night. She couldn't mention Jaime to him, no matter how worried she was.

At least Jaime was alive, and he had been given food and water. And he hadn't seemed to be injured. Thankfully, she wasn't injured either. For some reason, Robb Stark hadn't touched her. Was he playing some kind of game with her? Probably. She most certainly shouldn't be relieved or think for a moment that she would be safe.

"So, are you satisfied, my lady?" he inquired when they were in the tent.

"Your Grace?" she asked cautiously.

He turned to look at her and crossed his arms.

"You saw your brother, are you satisfied?"

"Yes," she replied quietly. "I am grateful for your mercifulness, Your Grace."

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it.

"Somehow I doubt that. I'm guessing you feel I should arrange your brother a bed fit for a king and serve his food on golden plates."

"No, Your Grace, I don't think that."

"What do you think then?" he pressed, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

Serafina took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I think that as long as my brother is treated with basic human decency, I will be grateful. I understand the circumstances, Your Grace. I know he's a prisoner of war."

Robb's gaze softened slightly, but his expression remained guarded. "Basic human decency," he repeated, as if tasting the words. "Do you believe your family afforded my sisters that same decency?"

Her heart raced as she struggled to find the right response. "I don't know, Your Grace. But I hope they did." She lowered her eyes, not wanting to provoke him further. "And I hope that we can show that even in times of war, there can be honor."

Robb stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "We shall see, Lady Lannister. We shall see. But tell me, would your brother treat his prisoners honorably?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "My brother has his faults, but…"

"Yes, he most certainly does," Lord Stark snorted. "And I can guarantee you that he is being treated much better than he deserves."

She nodded and bowed her head. "I understand. Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace."

Serafina felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She longed to be home in her chamber, the only place where she didn't have to be what someone else wanted her to be. There, she could take off her mask and just be herself. Unfortunately, "just her" was never enough for anyone. Right now, her sole focus was survival, and if that meant crawling in front of Robb Stark, then she would do it.

"Is there anything else, my lady?" Robb's voice cut through her thoughts.

"No, Your Grace," she replied softly. "I was just wondering if you would like me to serve you breakfast. You left before…"

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I'll have my breakfast now."

She moved to pour him some water, her movements graceful and precise. As she handed him the cup, their fingers brushed, and she noticed the slight hesitation in his eyes.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the cup.

"You are welcome, Your Grace," she replied, stepping back.

She went through the motions of learning his morning routine, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. As she served him breakfast, she couldn't help but wonder how far he intended to take this, how much he expected her to submit.

"Do you have any requests for the day, Your Grace?" she asked, her voice steady.

He looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head. "No, just stay close."

"Of course, Your Grace," she replied.

After he was finished, he stood up and chained her.

"Rest while you can. There are many long days ahead." His tone was dismissive, yet not unkind.

Serafina curtsied and moved to the corner of the tent, where a makeshift bed had been arranged for her. As she lay down, she continued to repeat her silent mantra: She could do this. She had to. For her brother, for her family, and most importantly, for herself.

King's Landing

Tywin stared at the message that had just been delivered to him: Robb Stark's men had captured Serafina. How was this possible? How had they known she was coming here? Tywin resolved to find out. He shouldn't have summoned her; she would have been safe in Casterly Rock.

Pressing his lips together, he forced himself to calm down. Negotiations needed to begin immediately to secure her release. When Jaime had been captured, Tywin had worried about his safety, but the threat to a woman was vastly different, especially in a camp full of men who despised her family.

He could only hope that the Stark boy had the sense to prevent his men from touching her. Serafina's value lay in her purity. But what if Robb Stark hadn't cared about that? No, Serafina was smart; Tywin believed she could handle herself with the Stark boy. He had taught her well. She was a true Lannister, resourceful and strong. Whatever happened, she would find a way to survive.