Chapter 13.
The Master of Whisperers And His Ward.
'Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.'
--Brandon Sanderson
1st Month, 297AC.
Blackwater Docks.
It was quite rare to see the Master of Whisperers out of the Red Keep and many wondered if he ever got out at all except when it had to do with the Royal family.
Today though, the third week of the first month of the year, Lord Varys stood at the docks, watching as the Pentoshi ship was slowly reeled in.
Internally, the man practically shook with glee as he waited patiently for his ward to come out.
He'd of course explained to his old friend about the hatred of all things slavery in Westeros, and thankfully they hadn't brought any unsullied.
But no matter, Illyrio had hired trusted servants and guards for the girl.
She was finally 18 name days old, and he had been assured that she had trained under the best. Perfect enough to gain the interest of the royal family.
Ah, there she was.
The first thing he noticed, was her total Valyrian heritage. Something that made his smile widen even further.
She was beautiful in an almost superficial way.
With had slant eyes that were dark purple, almost black. Her nose was upturned and pointy, complete with high cheekbones. A smirk sat across her face as she stood for a moment, as if wanting people to adore her beauty first, before she slowly walked towards him with 4 strong and tall guards behind her.
Varys plastered a warm smile across his face.
"Lady Mopatis. A pleasure to have you here."
As soon as he said that, an ugly look appeared across her face and Varys winced as an overly nasal toned voice came out of her mouth.
"As should be expected! Honestly uncle, I've been traveling for so long I didn't think there really was such a place known as Westeros!"
She huffed, before she scrunched her nose in anger as she watched two of her servants struggle with an antique looking chest.
"Be careful with that!"
She screeches in anger much to Varys' horrified shock.
"The contents of that box is more important than your pitiful lives!"
The two bowed and hurried off in fear, and Lady Mopatis turned back to Varys, huffing.
"Can we go now? I've been on that ship for too long and I really need my rest. And will I perhaps be meeting my betrothed any time soon?"
Varys' eye ticked for a second before he breathed in and out and spoke up.
"My lady, perhaps our… relation, is better kept a secret for the time being. Also, the prince isn't your betrothed yet. It would do you well to remember that."
He chided the young lady who sniffed, ignoring the Master of Whisperers' slowly growing worries.
"You need not worry about that. When the prince sees me, I guarantee he won't be able to resist."
She smiled smugly as they moved towards a beautiful carriage, and Varys said nothing.
"And your perfume scent is rather strong. Try toning it down, why don't you?"
With that, she walked ahead of him with her nose upturned, and Varys sighed.
The Red Keep.
"This will be your apartment for the duration of your stay here."
Varys waved her into the large solar/living area, well made up with aquamarine blue and gold draperies and expensive covers.
"Hmm… acceptable."
Aelora Mopatis' nasally voice resonated around and Varys' fought down a wince.
Why had his friend not told him about her particularly… special tone of voice?
The young woman walked towards an antique and heavy chest which the servants had placed on the table and smiled with glee as the door closed, leaving only her and the Master of Whisperers in the room.
"Finally…"
She tittered, moving to unlock the chest and as she opened it, two beautiful large gems sat on a soft cushion.
One a bright silver color that glittered under the sunlight and dazzled like diamonds, with purple swirls. And the second, onyx colored, with ruby like swirls on the body which glittered like blood.
"What do you think, uncle?"
Aelora turned to Varys whose face practically paled in shock once he saw just what was in the chest.
"What have you done?!"
He whispered harshly as he moved over to the uncaring girl.
"Your father and I had a plan—"
"I care not for those plans. I needed them here with me."
"If they'd been seen… Aelora, these could have been stolen!"
He watched her exasperatedly but she waved his concerns off with a laugh.
"You worry too much. They are here, are they not? And besides, once I show these to the prince… he'd be begging on his knees to marry me. All I just need to do is hatch it."
Varys choked on his breath, and once Aelora noticed his rapidly parking face, she let out a nasal laugh.
"Oh, do calm down uncle! I only jest. I don't need an hatched dragon to get my prince. All will be well. Now, begone from my room. I need to freshen up."
She closed the chest of dragon eggs with a loud snap.
"Do call for my maid while you leave. We have things to discuss."
She practically shooed him out of the room, and as Varys left her quarters, an odd feeling pooled in his stomach.
He wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling, and whether or not he liked said feeling. He just hoped his plans would go well… and hopefully his dear friend Illyrio had not spoilt the girl behind redemption.
The gods helped them all.
Lyarra slowly used her pin to make a simple enough design as she embroidered that afternoon with the Queen and her fellow Ladies in waiting.
Said women shared information amongst each other as they worked.
"Not too far from each other, Lyarra."
Elia glanced at the younger girl's work and she nodded slightly.
"Yes, your grace."
Elia smiled at her before going back to her own embroidery while listening to her ladies with one ear attentive.
"I heard we had some visitors from the Riverlands in Dorne."
Lady Gargalen spoke up with a sly smile.
"Oh?"
"Indeed. And they collapsed from heatstroke. Poor things."
She tittered mockingly and Ladies Sylvia Fowler and Elena Dalt who were both from Dorne chuckled amused which in turn made Sarah Lonmouth huff.
"Not everyone can withstand that dastardly heat. Are you sure Dorne is not one the seven hells?"
She sneered with no heat and Elena Dalt threw her a glare.
"Now, now. It's okay to admit weakness. Just because you can't survive a little fire doesn't make you any less of the woman you are."
Sarah puffed up and Elia stifled an amused look.
"And can you withstand the killing cold of the North then?"
Calypso Celtigar cut in with a benign smile, making Lyarra look up with a smile, exchanging a wink with the second youngest in the room who was 22 name days old.
"Oh hush. And I see you, Lyarra. The North is out of it I fear. Northerners must like to hurt themselves if they like that chill."
Elena flicked her hair from her face before Lady Carina Chested cut in with an exasperated sigh.
"You are all too judgemental. What care should I have for the hotness of Dorne or the Coldness of the North? Nothing beats the Crownlands! Except perhaps the Reach."
The ladies from Former turned offended looks at the smug woman.
"No skies compare to the beauty of Dorne, Carina. Even on an especially hot day, the skies are a beautiful blue, the clouds tinted pink and the sands of the desert a lovely orange—"
"But oh, what's that over there? Oh that's just an innocent man… dying of heatstroke."
Sylvia's unamused tone made Lyarra chuckle.
"And what about the North, Lyarra?"
Elia finally spoke up and the other women turned to the girl.
"Any fascinating thing about your skies?"
Lyarra frowned in thought, pausing her embroidery practice as she tilted her head slightly.
"Well… I don't know if it happens here, you grace… but sometimes it's quite hard to tell how much time has passed. Mostly because on some especially cold days, our days are longer and our nights shorted and even vice versa. And there's also the Auroras of the North."
Calypso frowned.
"Auroras? What are those?"
Lyarra smiled.
"They're beautiful waves of lights that appear in the skies occasionally. Sometimes blue and green. They only come out for a little while and usually at night. Very beautiful to look at."
"That sounds like it'd be something to look at."
Elena nodded, before a playful look appeared on her face.
"But I believe I shall take the searing hotness of Dorne to the cold North still."
She winked at Lyarra who shook her head as the ladies chuckled.
They wouldn't get it.
They only had to see the beauty of the Auroras and she guaranteed they would be hooked on the North for life.
As conversations picked up once again, they heard a knock on the door.
"Enter."
Elia called out softly, and a maid walked in, head bowed as she curtseyed in greeting.
"Your grace."
Elia waved her over and the girl practically scuttled over.
"What is it?"
"Lord Varys' guest has arrived not too long ago, your grace."
As she said that, the room quietened and everyone practically focused on the maid servant who shook slightly, and Lyarra felt some sympathy for the girl.
Elia raised an eyebrow, looking unconcerned.
"Oh? And how did she look?"
"Like the prince, your grace. Silver hair and purple eyes."
Lyarra perked up at that, looking between the maid and the Queen who took a sip of her tea for a moment before humming.
"You may leave."
The girl curtseyed one more time before walking out the door, and Elena Dalt spoke up.
"So the so called Pentoshi noble has arrived in your home, your grace?"
Elia smiled and Sylvia scowled.
"Pentoshi noble? Or a Magister's daughter?"
Sarah shrugged.
"Noble still. And with the looks of old Valyria too."
She glanced at the Queen who said nothing, focusing back on her embroidery.
Elena teased.
"I think we can all guess why she has been invited to the Red Keep. Little wonder what Varys gets from this though…"
Calypso then snorted.
"Who cares about that scheming man? It seems the King finally has a good daughter."
Lyarra's head immediately snapped up at that, something that didn't go unnoticed by the Queen who also spoke up.
"Good daughter? And why do you think that, my dear?"
Calypso smiled.
"It is no secret the King wants a Valyrian bride for the Prince. Who knows, she may be a beautiful and dutiful young lady. It is not a bad thing, right?"
Lyarra subconsciously wrinkled her nose at that.
There was more to a woman than being beautiful and dutiful. Who would want just those things?
Perhaps her sister, Sansa.
Still though… there was more to a woman…
Elena scoffed.
"Beautiful. Dutiful. Who cares about that? What matters is if she has what it takes to be a ruler."
"And the King will determine that."
Elia finally said, ending that line of thought. Lyarra looked ready to say something, but she decided to keep it in.
"Too bad for the Tyrells hm?"
Lydia Gargalen finally spoke up playfully and Sylvia sniffed disapprovingly.
"Reaching beyond their station."
"You always say that—"
"But it's the truth. Their darling rose would do better somewhere else. Perhaps Prince Viserys? That Baratheon heir? Didn't he dance with her at the feast?"
Lyarra let out an involuntary snort in that moment and the women all turned to her, making her cheeks redden with embarrassment.
Calypso smiled dangerously.
"I haven't thought to ask, Lyarra dear… but, there must be someone you have your eye on."
All the women perked up then and there, even the Queen looked interested and Lyarra looked at the exit in the room for a split second, almost pricking her hand in that moment.
"I uh… hm! There is no one."
Elena looked at her disbelievingly.
"What nonsense! There must be someone who's caught your eye! Perfectly good looking boys. Didn't the Tyrell boy dance with you?"
Sarah gasped out in remembrance at Elena.
"Indeed! You looked quite the gorgeous couple."
Elia then cleared her throat.
"She danced with the prince too, if I remember?"
She turned shiny gold eyes at the younger girl who wanted to bury jersey into her seat in that moment.
"He was being a good… friend."
She stumbled slightly and Elena exchanged a look with Elia secretly.
"Friend? My, my… how salacious."
Lydia licked her lips and Lyarra fought down a blush.
The Dornish really were something else!
"Just friends. Whatever were you expecting?"
She demanded and Falyse sighed.
"Some secret tryst, perhaps."
"WHA—"
"I mean, things have been stale for too long with that idiot husband of mine. I need some excitement. You're young yet. I could live vicariously through you."
Some of the ladies tittered in amusement and Lyarra's became flustered at their loose tongues.
The Queen chuckled, placing a hand on Lyarra's.
"Ladies, try not to chase her off. She is but 16 name days old."
"Turning 17 in a few moons, is she not?"
Falyse added and Calypso sighed.
"Indeed. I remember when I was her age. I had a childish fascination with a baker's boy. Load of good that did for me."
She sighed wistfully and Sylvia snorted after completing her embroidered kerchief.
"You got married to a scion of House Celtigar. He may not be the heir but I figure you married well compared to some other poor maiden out there marrying a man old enough to be her grandfather."
Some of the women snorted and nodded in agreement. And in that moment, Lyarra realized that perhaps she would be married soon too.
After all, she was of marriageable age… and what was to say suitors hadn't gotten in touch with either her Lord Father or her Lord Uncle yet.
The thought elicited a shiver out of the usually grim looking girl.
"Ahh… you are no fun, dear girl."
Falyse sighed and Elena cackled.
"Perhaps the Northern cold has indeed turned off all her Dornish fire."
Lyarra shook her head as the women turned to other conversations.
The following day came bright and sunny. A court session to be precise, as the King and Queen ruled over court, with the small council and Ladies in waiting by their side in the throne room.
The Prince stood dutifully by his father, throwing Lyarra a discreet friendly nod a while back.
As the session seemingly ended and the last group of noble petitioners were led out, the caller called out once more.
"Presenting to court! The Master of Whisperers, Lord Varys! Accompanied by his ward! The Lady Aelora Mopatis! Daughter of The Magister Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos!"
As he finished, the great doors opened with a slight groan and the court watched as Lord Varys walked in, I'm a violet gown of silk, arms clasped together inside the slightly longer sleeves and covered up. A smile sat across his face as behind him was a girl, all features of Valyria, dressed in a gown of Pentoshi make and maroon red in color.
Slight murmurs could be heard as they glided towards the royal family. The Lady Aelora's nose slightly upturned in the air with a smile across her face, fingers clasped much like the Lord Varys.
"Well, well…"
Calypso Celtigar whispered beneath her breath where she stood next to Lyarra.
The younger girl though, studied the other girl with a rather intense look in her eyes.
The way she walked, the way she held herself. There was just something… that made Lyarra unable to ignore the girl.
Try as she might, she found herself becoming wary… almost dislike.
"Your grace."
Varys bowed respectfully at the King who only nodded once as Varys turned rather dramatically, one arm towards the visitor.
"May I present my ward, Lady Aelora Mopatis."
The 18 name days old girl glided forward in that moment, curtseying perfectly.
"Your grace, it gives me much pleasure to be here in your midst."
As soon as her nasal toned voice resonated across the room, many exchanged looks amongst themselves and from a little further away, Oberyn Martell stifled an amused grin with his paramour.
She had a slight accent to her voice as well, making her Pentoshi upbringing even more noticeable.
As she straightened back up, she looked towards the prince with a rather sweet look to her face. Or, as sweet as one could say, as she rather looked constipated.
"Is she sick?"
One of the ladies whispered.
"Perhaps she is in desperate need of the privy."
As for Aegon, he kept a straight face and threw her a respectable nod.
"Be welcome to the house of the king. You shall be treated with the respect you deserve, especially being Lord Varys' ward."
Varys bowed, covering a smile as he did so.
And so it begins.
"He didn't even look my way after! How dare he!"
Aelora raged in her quarters later that afternoon as she placed alone in her room, a servant girl from her retinue bowed and quiet.
"I came all the way from Pentos to be his queen! He should give me the respect I deserve!"
She screeches nasally, huffing and turning to the servant girl finally, who winced a little.
"You. Girl! Have you set up my bath?"
The servant girl looked up in slight horror.
"N-no my lady. You said you weren't interested—"
"That was before the prince snubbed me, you stupid cretin!"
She marched towards the girl and yanked harshly at her hair, and the servant girl fell to her knees in a pained shout.
Ignoring the whimpers, Aelora looked away from the girl, even with her fingers still fisted in her hair, a look of fury on her face.
How dare he?!
No matter what she said, he answered politely. Too politely!
Was she not good enough!
It was all father's fault!
If he had let her practice with all those other Pentoshi boys, but no! He had to limit her freedom!
Didn't men like beautiful women?!
Wasn't she amazing!
She'll make him look at her and only her soon enough!
It'd be in his best interest.
She yanked her hand in anger and the servant cried out in pain.
"Go! Run my bath now! Every breath you take in my presence angers me."
She seethed with one last forceful yank, and the servant stumbled off with a sob.
Aelora huffed, moving to run her hand through her silvery hair when she paused at the sight of brown chunks of hair tangled on her fingers and she huffed in disgust.
She walked into her room, disrobing without care and marching over to the chest by the window, opening it once more.
Her eyes brightened with glee as she petted the eggs like children.
She hummed internally.
While in Pentos, she had heard much about the history of hatching eggs. Away from her father, of course. He could be too protective.
A lot of fire was needed, and Valyrian blood apparently. As well as the end of life to signal the birth of fire made flesh.
Now that she was away from her father, she could begin her scheme. She would be welcomed with open arms if she brought dragons into the world once more. The mother of dragons would be her name.
Her title. Along with queen of the seven kingdoms.
She squeaked happily, taking out the egg she thought more beautiful and appealing to her eyes. The one that shone like silver diamonds with amethyst swirls.
Cold to the hand but it mattered not.
"I'll get you out of there in no time, my sweet. We shall do the work of my ancestors and reign supreme."
She paused, hearing the door to her living area open and close and placed the egg back in the chest, on a cloth of red silk, with the sigil of a black three headed dragon.
And as she locked the chest once more, her eyes gleamed with madness.
Tyrell Manse.
"Well played, Varys."
Olenna whispered to herself as she embroidered, a displeased look on her face while her granddaughter, Margaery, sat by the balcony with a faraway look to her.
"What do we do now, grandmother?"
Olenna sniffed.
"It's no wonder he's been quiet all this while. He already had a plan in motion. This ward of his… she might be a foreigner but she is a Valyrian noble of sorts. And if the king is still keen on uniting his son with a woman of Valyrian heritage, this one seemed pure enough."
Margaery turned to her grandmother.
"So there's no hope?"
"Bah! Hope is for the poor. And the useless who sit about waiting for their time to come. No. We shall watch and see the King and Queen's reaction to this. And perhaps you should see about cornering the prince one of these days. Mayhap something good will come out of that."
Margaery smiled amused and Olenna continued.
"And perhaps… if there is no way out of it… we grab as much as we can. Viserys is free, after all."
Margaery had a look of distaste on her face immediately.
"Grandmama! You yourself said he was a bag of nuts and nothing else!"
Olenna scoffed.
"And perhaps a bag of nuts is what you need. He doesn't seem interested in governing Dragonstone. You can take that over while he prances about being an idiot. And you become princess."
"Not queen."
Margaery looked pointedly at her grandmother who ignored her and the Rose of the Reach continued.
"Besides, decisions haven't been made yet. The princess is getting married in a few moons, it might take longer for the prince. We might still have the time."
"Mark my words, that boy will be married before his 19th. Just like his father was."
"You believe the King would rush his son?"
"They all wed at an early age. The King just had a softer side for his daughter. And she still got married before her 20th. It matters not though, we have a lot to evaluate. Damn Varys."
Olenna muttered unhappily and Margaery snorted.
"The girl though. She has a rather unpleasant tone to her. Little wonders what happened to her."
Olenna smiled amused, before a look of annoyance appeared on his face.
"Where is that brother of yours anyways?"
"Garlan is at the sparring yard, as you know."
Olenna huffed.
Stupid boy.
He should be wooing that Dayne bastard, not wasting anymore time. That one was closer to the Queen, and from the little interaction she gleamed between the girl and the prince. She'd be an idiot to deny whatever that was.
She had to nip that one in the bud before she had two girls vying for the prince's attention against her granddaughter.
No.
That wouldn't do.
Lyarra walked with her uncle, Arthur that early evening, thinking about the event from earlier in the day.
It seemed things were going to change… or, would they?
This new lady from Pentos many were so sure would be the next Queen. Would that eventually happen?
"Something on your mind, niece?"
Arthur glanced at her with a curious look on his face and Lyarra smiled sheepishly.
"Apologies, uncle. Just enjoying the peace and quiet."
Arthur scoffed.
"I am not so sure I believe you."
The silvery haired girl smiled, before she looked at her uncle in a considering manner, and spoke up.
"Uncle, about the King wanting a Valyrian bride for his son…"
"Ahh, you heard about that already, hm? Turning into a gossip? The South sure is claiming you already."
Arthur teased his niece and she huffed slightly, making him laugh.
"The King had his reasons. As a young man, Rhaegar had been rather… disconnected, with the world. It was like a mirror separated him from reality. But it changed as years went by. I don't know why, but he suddenly seemed interested in a Valyrian bride for his son. Perhaps he had a dream… but, one thing I do know, is that he wouldn't force his son into something he didn't want."
As he said that, Lyarra's heart seemed to free up a bit, and she could seemingly breath easier.
"That girl then… Lady Aelora. Do you think she could be Queen one day?"
Arthur shrugged uncaring.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It depends on the King and Prince's decisions, does it not? Now, tell me about your training with that Sand Snake. I intend to test you soon enough."
Lyarra's eyes widened at that, and Arthur's grin looked awfully sly.
"But you said I needed to train more."
"Indeed. And yet I have seen some of your spars with the girl. I am quite impressed. You have improved even better than when you were in the North. I look forward to testing you, niece."
Lyarra wasn't sure which news sounded scary.
The following morning arrived with a beautiful sunrise that left the skies a healthy yellow glow.
Lyarra sat behind her table as she plaited her hair into a single braid. Much like she had always done back home in the North apart from the occasional letting her hair down. In the South though, hair beauty was a thing as well. With a number of elegant and over the top headpieces mixed in.
As she weaved the end, Sarah knocked and walked in from the solar with a letter in hand.
"My lady, the Princess has required your presence for afternoon tea."
As the older girl finished excitedly, Lyarra's eyes widened in no small amount of surprise.
"The princess?"
She mumbled more to herself but Sarah answered even as she handed the letter over to Lyarra who hastily read through the invitation.
"Indeed, my Lady. A servant just arrived with it."
The silvery blonde's throat dried slightly as she stared at the invitation.
While she could say she knew the Queen and the Prince rather well, she couldn't say she knew the Princess and her father all that much either.
She had been in the King's presence a number of times and during the journey to King's and, had even been properly introduced to him, but she could not say she really knew who he was like his wife and son.
Same as the Princess as well. She was much like her father. Intriguing and mystifying.
She could only wonder what the older girl wanted with her.
And so, with a sigh, she got to her feet even as Ghost lounged away by the fires. She occasionally let him out around the Ladies' Keep every now and then, so he could explore his surroundings like a growing predator should. He seemed to have gotten used to the South as well, though Lyarra suspected that just like her, he missed the cold and chill of the North.
"You may enter."
The guard spoke in a monotonous voice as he opened the door for her, and Lyarra walked into the room.
It was very open and bright, with the walls painted an almost peachy color, gold murals making the room even more expensive that it should.
Sofas spread a little further from each other and yet didn't look impersonal. A large fireplace at between and the Princess sat, playing away on a Pianoforte.
A rather pleasing song to Lyarra's ears. Almost wistful yet romantic and almost oriental to the ears.
She stood, unsure what to do or say when the older girl turned to her with a polite smile.
"I heard this during my stay in the Reach. A visiting bard all the way from Yi Ti played it. About a god-empress who had fallen in love with her dutiful Army general. They were set to wed but he died in battle. 767 years ago."
Lyarra's eyes widened in surprise at how long it had been.
"And they still remember this?"
Rhaenys smiled as she played the finishing part of the song.
"The people of Yi Ti know how to protect the heritage and history of their time passed. I thought it to Aegon seeing as he liked it too."
"He plays too?"
Rhaenys smiled as the song ended, and she slowly stood up, her orange and gold embroidered dress glittering in the afternoon sunlight which cascaded through the windows as the curtains fluttered.
"He plays some instruments of course. But I believe he is partial to the harp, just as my father is. Come. Sit."
She waved her hand as she settled ok a comfortable sofa and Lyarra did the same, opposite her.
"Thank you, your grace."
The princess hummed as two maids walked in. One carrying a tray of tea and teacups in porcelain and the other with a tray of goodies.
They placed it on the table and began to serve while Rhaenys kept her eyes on the fascinating Northern girl.
"I have been rather remiss in getting to know you, have I not? And yet, my brother Aegon, and Nymeria only have the best of things to say about you."
As she said that, a look of embarrassment appeared across the silvery blonde's face and Lyarra had no idea which of the names had made her so.
Rhaenys chuckled slightly though, as a maid brought her tea and a small plate of goodies for her.
"Ah, Nymeria. She can be too much at times. Tell me about Winterfell though… I have heard impersonal things about it, but you lived there. What was it truly like? You being who you were, pardon me."
She took a sip of her tea with glittering curious eyes and Lyarra played with the answer in her head for a moment before answering.
"I would say Winterfell is just like any other Keep, but having lived here for close to two moons now… i cannot say that. But it was very easy to adapt, seeing as it was the only home I ever knew. It is as mighty as it sounds too. It has hot springs running through as well as a beautiful godswood for prayers."
"I heard your Lord Father built the Lady Stark a Sept when she first moved to the North."
Lyarra swallowed at the mention of her father's Lady wife, a little startled at how the conversation seemed to settle on her.
"Hm. Well, yes your grace."
"Are you devout?"
"Devout?"
"The old gods, I mean. I remember you saying you do not mind the seven as well."
"Oh, well I'm not just the North. When it comes to religion, I don't criticize. I worship the old gods and I'm learning as much as I can about the seven and Mother Rhoyne."
The princess nodded in appreciation.
"I think you would have loved growing up in Dorne."
She glanced up at the silvery blonde who watched her back.
"My mother really wanted to raise you, of course. At some point as a child I grew rather jealous of my mother's fondness for someone I'd never met."
As she said that, Lyarra's eyes widened but the princess' glittered with amusement, even as she continued what she was saying.
"It was just the mind of a child then, of course. Frankly, I moved on from that when my mom presented me with some delicious blancmange."
Lyarra grinned, imagining such a scenario with a little Princess Rhaenys stamping her foot in anger while the Queen watched her in amusement.
It must have been nice… having a mother.
An uncomfortable feeling pooled within her chest and her face twisted slightly.
"I remember you said something about my mother, Ashara Dayne?"
The princess nods, moving to take a biscuit.
"I don't remember her much, but she was very easy to like. I was usually in her arms whenever my mother had something or the other to do."
A wistful look appeared in Lyarra's eyes, something the princess spotted, and a feeling of sympathy settled in her for the girl who had no memory of her mother.
"My mother has a number of memories about her. Perhaps she could share some with you."
Lyarra looked up at that.
"Oh she has been kind enough to share a number of them with me."
A soft smile grew across her lips, something the princess thought suited her rather well.
"I dare say I have never known much about my mother than I do now that I am in the South."
She chuckled to herself quietly before biting into her biscuit and the princess nodded absentmindedly.
They soon moved towards more conversation worthy subjects and a couple of minutes had only passed when there was a knock on the double doors and a voice announced a visitor.
"The prince, your grace."
As soon as that was said, Lyarra perked up, sitting ramrod with her teacup in hand while the princess lazily turned as the door was opened, and the prince walked in with an easy going smile.
"Sister. Lady Lyarra. A good afternoon."
He bowed, his eyes lingering more on the silvery blonde who stood up and curtseyed respectfully at him.
Rhaenys sighed halfheartedly.
"What are you doing here, brother?"
Aegon grinned as he sat on a single sofa, relaxing into it with a playful grin.
"Come now. Can I not miss my lovely sister?"
Rhaenys scoffed at that and Lyarra brought her cup up for a sip, as well as to cover a smile.
"Do you not have other things to do? Like entertaining your future betrothed."
As she said that, a frown grew simultaneously across both Lyarra and Aegon's faces.
"Do not jest, sister. You know that is not true."
Rhaenys smiled mockingly though her eyes glittered with mischief.
"Maybe not for long."
"You have not even spent time with her yet unlike me, Rhaenys. Have care how you speak."
He rolled his eyes, and as Rhaenys prepared to lash at him back, Lyarra couldn't stop herself from blurting out.
"You've met with her already?"
As she said that, the two Targaryen siblings finally turned to the third person in the room, and the silvery blonde's cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment, her hands tightening a little around the teacup in her hand.
"Indeed. But it would seem… that not everyone can be agreeable company as the ladies in this room."
He winked flirtatiously at both girls, and though Lyarra felt a little turn in her stomach, she couldn't stop the snort that escaped her lips at the same time as the princess's.
Rhaenys turned to her with an upturned lip and Lyarra bowed respectfully towards her.
"Apologies."
"Oh no offense taken, Lady Lyarra. In fact, I quite enjoy your character. Very refreshing. And as for you, brother…"
She turned towards Aegon who had a smile on his lips as he watched both girls.
"You had better get used to that girl. You very well might end up with her."
Aegon frowned, displeased at his sister for a second, before he glanced at Lyarra and smirked.
"Now sister, there is another maiden of Valyrian blood sitter here with us."
He winked at Lyarra once again and the younger girl felt her heartbeat stutter for a second.
Oh she was very well used to his abnormal teasing now. But it didn't change how affected by it she always seemed to be, especially as of recent.
And perhaps, Lyarra was quite used to speaking down on him when in each other's private company, for she couldn't stop herself from talking back.
"You… beetle-headed… clotpole."
Aegon's jaw dropped in surprise while Rhaenys let out a startled laughter, reminding Lyarra they had another person in the room.
"Beetle-headed clotpole? How on earth did you even come up with that?"
Aegon stared at her almost confused and Lyarra cleared her throat, trying not to smile at the princess's rather laid-back attitude as she tried to curb her laughter.
"T'is a North thing."
Was all Lyarra could say, and Aegon sighed, holding a hand to his chest as if slighted.
"Why! I have never been rejected by a maiden in my life. And then reduced to nothing but a beetle-head. Worry not though, I do not intend to give up."
His eyes narrowed considerably as if in challenge, and the silvery blonde swallowed as she looked back at the prince, not knowing if he was jesting with her or not.
His smile widened as he stared her head on, eyes darkening slightly and Lyarra's hands shook slightly but she still didn't back down.
She wasn't the type to, after all.
While this happened though, Rhaenys seemed to watch them closely, and in that second, something suddenly clicked in the princess' mind eye, as she subconsciously stood up, eyes slightly wide for a second and returning back to it's normal size.
Aegon turned towards his sister while Lyarra looked away, breathing out in relief.
"Are you headed somewhere?"
He asked his sister and Rhaenys stared at him for a second, before clearing her throat.
"Indeed. I have a fitting for my wedding very soon, and I look forward to it."
As she turned to leave, Lyarra stood up respectfully.
"It was nice talking to you, Lady Lyarra. I just might invite you for tea another time. You are very amiable a conversationalist."
Lyarra curtseyed and with another wave, the princess glided across the room and out the door.
As she walked out, greeting Gendry who bowed at her in greeting, she opened her mouth to ask him something, seeing as he was very close to Aegon.
But then her eyes caught her mother's figure heading towards her destination.
She looked at the closed room behind her for a second, an scoff of amused laughter escaping her lips for a second, before she turned and walked off with a little shake of her head, meeting her mother halfway who had Lewyn Martell accompanying her.
"Mother."
"Darling. I was just about to come pick you up. I thought perhaps you had forgotten about you dress fitting."
They locked elbows, Elia smiling at her rather out of it daughter.
"Apologies mother. It would seem my time with the Lady Lyarra had been much more interesting and timekeeping as I would have thought."
Elia smiled at that, rather pleased.
"Well it does bring me some happiness to see you two in each other's company."
Rhaenys hummed.
"Indeed. And perhaps you could tell me more about the girl. I reckon it'd be better to know her more now, rather than later."
Back in the room, Lyarra turned towards the prince where she stood, opening her mouth but Aegon beat her to it as he crossed his legs, resting into the chair further and looking much like the prince he was.
"You are about to run off again, aren't you?"
Lyarra pauses, turning to him slowly.
"Do you not have somewhere to be?"
He shrugged haphazardly.
"Nothing at the moment. Perhaps I could lure you to join me in the library. You did mention an interest in learning the Valyrian language, did you not?"
As he said that, an hopeful look appeared in her eyes and Aegon have himself an imaginary pat on the back even as he stood up and waited for an answer which she gave immediately.
"If you are not too busy. Then I'd like that."
He grins down at her as she smiled, before raising a finger to tap at her nose softly, startling the girl.
"You look beautiful when you smile."
Was all he said, before walking towards the door and leaving Lyarra suddenly almost certainly brain dead for a moment.
…beautiful..??
"Are you coming?"
She snaps out of it, turning and going after him with an almost confused but flattered look across her face.
As she walked out of the room, Gendry who had been standing guard for the prince raised an eyebrow at her presence but said nothing.
"Come Gendry, we are off to the place of knowledge."
Gendry stifled a sigh immediately, as he walked behind the prince while Lyarra walked beside the prince.
"I know what the library is."
"Of course you do, Gendry. But I know how much you despise it. The place of knowledge sounds awfully better. Do you not think so, Lyarra?"
A slightly out of sorts Lyarra jumped a little, turning to the prince.
"Ah yes. Whatever you say."
Gendry snorted.
"Hearing you agree with something he's said. Now that's a first."
Lyarra sniffs.
The trio spend the rest of their afternoon and early evening in each other's company. Gendry standing guard while Aegon brushed through the Valyrian history for Lyarra who, while she got to focusing, would be an idiot not to admit her occasional straying of thoughts.
Especially when it came to the prince.
All three not noticing the silvery haired girl watching them from a little further away.
"Who is that girl?"
Aelora asked the maid next to her who bowed in respect.
"The Lady Lyarra Dayne, my Lady. Of the houses Stark and Dayne."
"Hmm…"
Her purple eyes flash dangerously in a glare.
So Varys' ward has arrived. But she isn't as... impressive as he had hoped. And on the other hand Aegon and Lyarra grow closer and we get closer to chapter 17 even more.Though it looks like Lyarra has gained the unwanted attention of even more people.
P.s. I also have nothing against nasal toned speeches guys, but when I thought up this character, I imagined Traci Van Horn from Hannah Montana who always said her nasal voice was a nasal condition.
That character was hilarious!
Next chapter, Aelora fumes even more, Lyarra is caught between Garlan and Aegon. Some more training, and Lyarra begins to understand just what it means to be an unburnt.