Miru
By the first day of the Great Council, Miru was growing worried for her brother.
Ever since the Redforts' rejection, Matthias had begun indulging himself on the Street of Silk. With Leroya and Baalun spending a great deal of time around the ironborn and their ilk, Miru took it upon herself to look after Matthias. Besides, she reasoned, Baalun and Leroya would only encourage him to do worse. At least those two keep their debauchery clear from the castle, Miru thought as she ventured out amongst the brothels.
Luckily, she drew very little attention from the men who lingered before these buildings. Still, she tried her best to avoid eye contact and kept one hand out of sight so that she could hold the handle of a sharp dagger.
This was the third time in as many days that she had found him somewhere along this street. He'd been drunk, gambling, cavorting, and gorging himself on fine food.
It was an unfortunate side of the education and upbringing that Titus and Bellaria had given their children. The Summer Islanders encouraged celebration of life, choosing love over hate, seeking out beauty and knowledge in the wide world. Miru, who had already been seven when she'd first come to the Summer Isles, had retained a small measure of doubt, despite her embracing most of these lessons. For one thing, she saw more than one case of men and women over-indulging themselves. Her own siblings were not exempt, and she could not help fretting for them.
She was most protective of Matthias, ever since he was named for the brother she'd lost in Crakehall. She had tried to keep him occupied with higher-minded pursuits. She had taken him on walks through the city and along the shores of the Blackwater Rush. It did little to stir his mood, especially after that morning.
Before the Great Council had assembled, Matthias and Miru had eaten their fill of the morning meal. Before they finished, they spied a group of newcomers enter the Great Hall.
Lord Gorlim Redfort was a greybeard of average height, whose fancy clothes couldn't hide his balding scalp and his sagging paunch. He'd brought three children and two youths who seemed on the cusp of manhood, as well as a wife whose iron-coloured hair was fixed in a hairstyle which almost resembled a septa's. With them strode a maester, two septas, and several men who wore the Redfort sigil.
As Miru and Matthias stared at them, it did not take long for the Redforts to notice them. The children gawked at first, only for Lord Gorlim to shoo them along. Lady Redfort did the same, but not before shooting Matthias a hostile glance.
Afterwards, Matthias had insisted that all was well, but when Miru went to the privy, he had left the hall.
It was one of Leroya's crew that later came to warn Miru, as she'd specifically requested they do if he indulged himself again. It was not long before she found herself standing in front of a brothel called Lucamore's Loft.
One of the oldest brothels on the street, it had supposedly survived more than two centuries of history in King's Landing. It had been here, they claimed, where Ser Lucamore Strong would earn his moniker 'the Lusty.' Since then, the brothel had advertised their whores as being "beautiful enough for a Kingsguard knight."
In truth, Miru suspected that the building had undergone at least one reconstruction. The entire first part of the brothel was built out of fine brick, with freshly painted beams of wood making up the upper two layers. The women wore fineries which only the best brothels could afford, and several of the prostitutes appeared to have come from different parts of Essos.
"I'm looking for my brother," Miru told one of the younger prostitutes. "He's a dwarf, about this high. He's red-haired and green-eyed."
"Oh, him?" Her face lit up. "He's such a lark!"
Miru braced herself. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, he's just funny," the young lady replied. "He comes in and he takes Villaria upstairs. Then he comes back down after they're done and he gets drunk. Starts talking at us like he's someone else, you know? Then he does another person, and another! Different voices, too!"
Miru sighed. "Where is he now?"
"Oh, he went back upstairs. Columbine and Teora are with him now." She giggled again. "D'you know, I thought a small man like him would have a small cock, but Villaria said-"
"Forgive me, but I need to speak to whomever you answer to," Miru interrupted.
The owner, known as the Tigress, spoke the Common Tongue with a Volantine accent; more surprisingly, she'd been tattooed with tiger stripes across her face and arms. Although she was much shorter than Leroya, she was no less powerfully built. Beneath the dark tattoos, her olive skin and black hair made her look Rhoynish.
"Why are you here?" She asked.
"I'm here to find my brother," she explained. "Has he paid you yet?"
"Half," the Tigress replied. Her expression became guarded as she spoke. "He owes me twenty gold dragons."
Balking at the cost, Miru nevertheless reached for her purse and took out sufficient coinage to match that price. "Will you take me to him? He's lingered here long enough."
"As you say," said the Tigress, "though he may not appreciate your interruption."
"There won't be any trouble," Miru assured her.
"I do not need you to tell me that. I have thrown out men twice his size." And with that, the Tigress told one of her ladies to escort Miru up to Matthias' room.
"I heard that slave soldiers were tattooed with tiger stripes in Volantis," said Miru.
"You heard right," answered the prostitute matter-of-factly. "The Tigress fought in Astapor, in the fighting pits. She still has the medallion to prove it."
And now she is here, running a brothel in King's Landing. Ever since her departure from Westeros, Miru had always marvelled at the vast journeys that men and women embarked on throughout their lives. There was a time, she thought to herself, when I thought I would spend the rest of my life at Crakehall.
She could hear laughter and cries of ecstasy emanating from most of the rooms, but not from the one which the prostitute knocked upon.
"Someone to see you, milord," she called out.
Miru bade her to leave as she spoke up. "Matthias! I need to speak with you!"
There was no answer that she could hear, but it wasn't long before a beautiful young woman, naked as the day she was born, opened the door.
She looked as Rhoynish as the Tigress, only she was slender and delicate in build. Her eyes widened at the sight of Miru. "Who are you?"
Miru gave a polite nod. "Where is my brother?"
A voice rang out. "Teora! Let her in!"
Miru reached into her purse and gave a copper coin to Teora as the prostitute stepped aside. "His debt is settled. Keep this for yourself." Teora smiled her thanks as Miru turned to face her brother.
Matthias was still naked, but for a length of cloth which he'd wrapped around his waist. He was sprawled across a luxurious bed. One hand clasped a goblet from which rested on Matthias' chest. His head rested on the considerable bosom of a plump naked woman, even as her fingers massaged his shoulders.
"Matthias," Miru exclaimed. "How did you spend forty gold dragons in two hours?"
"Is that a serious question?" Matthias drawled. He snickered at his own remark as he tried to tip his goblet backwards into his mouth.
Miru made a frustrated noise as she plucked the goblet from his grasp. "What was your plan when you ran out of coin?"
"Ask Sadog for more," Matthias retorted irritably. He looked up and puckered his lips. Dutifully, Columbine leaned down and gave him a kiss.
"If it please you, milady," Teora interjected. "Mayhaps you might like to join us? We keep all sorts of secrets here."
Miru ignored the sense of revulsion which seized her. "I think not. And my brother is finished here."
Teora shrugged, then grabbed a red gown from the nearby couch.
Matthias chose that moment to stand up on the bed. "No red, my dear! I never want to see that awful colour again! I want to see you in purple! Dondarrion purple!" After a moment, his swaying form fell backward onto the bed again, narrowly missing Columbine. "Start wearing purple," he decreed drunkenly. "Start wearing purple for me now!"
"Gods be fucking damned," Miru cursed, as she still did despite abandoning the Faith long ago. "Get yourself cleaned up, Matthias, or at least get dressed."
Matthias suddenly groaned, then he rolled onto his side so that his head hung over the bed. A silver bucket had already been placed beside the bed, Miru saw, but Matthias had unfortunately forgotten on which side it lay.
"Oh," Matthias grunted as he finished retching and looked at the mess he'd made on the floor. "Oh, fuck… where…"
Grumbling, Miru offered Columbine three groats as the woman made a sour face.
"That's enough," Miru hissed as she gave her brother a hard smack on his calf.
"Oi," Matthias cried out. "You want to know what I heard Leroya told me before I left? You want to give her a good smack too? If so, you'll have to form a line behind-"
"Stop that! I'm not interested in deflections," Miru snapped. "Leroya isn't throwing her money away and trying to drown in her own self-pity!" And besides, she can look after herself far better than you. Of course, she would never be so angry or foolish to speak that thought aloud.
Matthias suddenly seemed a tad more sober than before. "You were there, Miru. What am I supposed to do now?"
"First of all, you should be honest about how you feel, instead of sneaking off without a word," Miru pointed out.
Matthias sighed bad-temperedly, but there was a remorseful look in his eyes.
"Secondly, you should do something about it."
Matthias glanced up at her. "Like what?"
Miru, who had had plenty of time to ponder that question, spoke without hesitation. "It was Redfort's wife who looked at you. Lord Gorlim simply ignored you. Mayhaps it is she who is blocking you from him?"
It was a flimsy suggestion, but it was the best she could do.
"Lord Gorlim will be at the council," she went on, "and his wife will not. So, let us speak to him when he is finished. He will have to walk back to his chambers, will he not? If we confront him then, we might be able to find out more about your mother."
Matthias suddenly gave another groan as he clutched his forehead. "Why do I feel like that is a dubious strategy?"
"Because you're drunk on wine," Miru retorted. "Now clean up your mess and let's get out of here."
She stepped out of the room to give him privacy and stood in front of the closed door. As she waited, a conversation down the hallway caught her attention.
"Are you crazed?"
"The Tigress won't care. It's just one night!"
"Forget about her! If you go out into the city after dark, you might never come back!"
"They won't kill me. Worst those bandits will do is use me. I've been used before."
Miru felt her heart sink. She herself had been taken and used by a man when she was scarcely seven years old. She still recalled how Barba had looked at her with alarm when she'd spoken as glibly as this prostitute was speaking. By her voice, Miru doubted that she was older than sixteen.
The other one was not finished. "How long have you been in this city?"
"Two months," came the surly reply.
"You ought to know better, then! Nobody ever warned you about traveling the city streets past sunset?"
"Of course they do, but what of it? There's men everywhere in the daylight too."
"Not like these men," the older prostitute warned. "They never speak. They go riding through the streets in masks and hoods. They set traps and take girls with them. Anyone they take is never seen again."
Miru thought it a strange story, and she was alarmed at the panic in the older woman's voice as she spoke it. Before she could listen to more of the conversation, however, Matthias opened the door behind her, adjusting his clothes with a miserable countenance. "I'm ready, let's be off."
Supper was already being organised when they made it back to the castle. Lords and their families were out and about, waiting for the evening meal, even as servants and guardsmen bustled amongst them on one errand or another.
It was some time before Miru and Matthias returned to the holdfast. By the time they arrived, their father was already on his way to the Great Hall, accompanied by Sadog and Baalun.
Miru balked at the sight of her kinsmen. Sadog was grim-faced whilst Titus was subdued. Baalun looked uneasy and confused as he stayed close by Titus' side with one hand on his back.
"What happened?" Matthias asked.
Titus gave a slow sigh before turning to Miru. "Cayn approached me."
Miru clapped a hand to her mouth. From the corner of her eye, Matthias' expression became alike to Baalun's. Neither of them had known Cayn; they had only heard the accounts of their father and elder siblings, so it was difficult for them to comprehend what this meant.
As for Miru, she felt a storm of emotions overcome her as Titus quietly went over what had transpired. By the time he was finished, she had mastered herself as her mind pondered what she'd learned. "He said nothing about Andrew or Maric, then? Nothing about Barba neither?"
"He did not. And frankly, I don't blame him," Titus lamented. "It must have taken all his courage to speak with me, never mind recalling those poor children." His voice cracked at the last two words, even as he hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
All the same, Miru was heartened. "Mayhaps this is a good thing."
"Why?" Sadog asked skeptically.
"Why not?" Titus replied. "I would like to believe the same as Miru. I suspect that he is looking for an opportunity to escape Brynden Rivers' service. Why else would he speak to me?"
A muscle in Sadog's jaw twitched as he averted his eyes.
It was Matthias who spoke Sadog's thoughts aloud. "He might be deceiving you. He's had twenty-seven years to escape Brynden Rivers. Why hasn't he done it already?"
"You don't know Brynden Rivers like I do," Titus said reproachfully. "His powers are mysterious, and his hold on this realm has been absolute for far too long."
"Mayhaps Cayn can help us," Miru suggested eagerly. "He ought to know a great deal about Rivers and his methods."
"And if we discover them," Baalun interjected, "Cayn will be the first man whom Brynden will suspect, no?"
Miru was always astounded when Baalun offered sage advice, but she was too obdurate to admit defeat. "Will you seek him out again, Father?"
"Nay," Titus answered. "Baalun is right. I will not put Cayn's life at risk. I will wait for him to see me again." With that, he gave a hearty sigh, as if he were expelling his sense of melancholy. "Let us go and eat," he declared as he looked at his children one by one. "But where is Leroya?"
Miru saw a wicked grin spreading across Matthias' and Baalun's faces.
Sadog noticed their reactions too. "Gods, what has she done now?"
"You won't like the answer, brother," Baalun replied as he failed to stifle his growing amusement. "I will pray that you never find out."
Miru didn't know what that meant, but Matthias certainly did. Laughter burst from him as he leaned forward, clutching his sides.
Titus, meanwhile, shook his head in exasperation, though a smile was threatening to break out across his face. "Well, let's be on our way, then."
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They attracted a few looks as they waited for Lord Gorlim the following day, as council commenced its second session. One of the guards had questioned them, but he could find no fault with them sitting peaceably in a corridor reading books
They sat a considerable distance from the Redfort chambers, so that Lady Redfort would not notice them too easily. Luckily, she hadn't appeared, either because she remained in the chambers, or she'd taken the children elsewhere.
Miru had brought a book from the library which Sadog had recommended. It was about the Great Council of 101 AC, written by a man called Richerus. He'd allegedly been present for the proceedings, serving as a scribe to the High Septon. Many years later, after he'd become a respected archmaester, Richerus turned his old transcript into an historical account.
Truthfully, it was a dense read, for Richerus had clearly done extensive research on the customs, the attendants, and the context of the great council. Moreover, a good portion of the book was devoted to large chunks of text taken verbatim from his original transcript. This included the speeches made by those claimants who were so insignificant that they were rejected after they'd finished making their long-winded harangues.
Still, it was a tedious wait, and she hadn't brought any other books with her.
"This is foolish," Matthias suddenly mumbled. The sound of a book slamming shut echoed in the hall.
Miru, jumping at the sudden noise, glared at her younger brother. "Will you stop that?"
"What are we even going to do when he arrives?" Matthias demanded. "He'll just have his men attack us. Or maybe call the guards to arrest us!"
Miru was incredulous. "For what crime?"
"Does it matter? He does not need to justify himself. Who are we?" Matthias tossed his book onto the "I should never have bothered."
"Why not?" Miru stood up. "Why shouldn't you have tried to find out the truth? Would you rather spend your life living in ignorance? Never knowing what happened to your own family?"
Matthias stared at her silently; there was a shrewd look in his eyes which she liked not at all. "This isn't about me alone, is it?"
Miru sat back down, feeling embarrassed and foolish. "You have an opportunity," she muttered as she turned her face from his gaze. "Don't throw it away."
The silence between them seemed to last an hour before Matthias finally broke it.
"Is there no way you can find out about Barba?"
Miru closed the book on her finger as she glanced at Matthias again. "I wonder if Cayn might have an idea."
Matthias' face fell. "It might not be wise," he cautioned.
"If you know of a better way, then please enlighten me," Miru snapped.
Matthias shrugged before turning back to his book and reading it with a morose expression.
She regretted being so waspish with her brother, but she was also feeling wretched about her fruitless quest. I should have stayed behind, she thought bitterly, thinking of Lozyn and the orphanage. Then she thought of Titus and her siblings, and remorse struck her once again.
Miru could not finish the book. She simply stared at the same page as her mind wandered back and forth, treading and retreading the same grounds with increasing frustration.
It was not until Matthias called out that Miru's trance was broken.
She heard distant footsteps ascending the nearby staircase. She marked her page and closed Richerus' book.
It was not long before they heard the sound of rattling chains which always introduced a maester. Miru and Matthias exchanged a glance before turning back to the open doorway.
Sure enough, a maester stepped into view, wearing the robes and chain of his order. By some intuition, Miru recalled that this was the maester whom they'd spoken to when they were last in this corridor, seeking the Redforts. Unlike before, he stood in the plain light.
A cry almost left her throat as she stared at the man. She turned to Matthias, who was equally stunned at the resemblance between the maester and himself.
For his part, the maester stood still as a disconcerted expression appeared on his face. "I hoped that I might see you two again."
Miru arose from where she sat, staring at the maester's green eyes, his red-gold hair, and the same jawline which she'd seen on her father's face for the last twenty-seven years. Gods be fucking damned…
Beside her, Matthias spoke first. "Are we kin from afar?"
"We might be," answered the maester. "Indeed, I was hoping you might tell me where I am from."
"Do you not know?" Miru asked.
"I was raised in the Citadel. I wasn't told whence I was born. All they saw fit to tell me was that my mother was executed for murder, and I must atone for her sins by giving myself to the service of men and gods alike."
Miru felt a chill race down her back. How could anyone put such a terrible burden on an innocent child? "What is your name?"
"I was raised by Archmaester Jehan. He named me Lyman after the astronomer whose work he studied."
Matthias spoke again. "Do you have any idea who your father might have been?"
"No," Maester Lyman answered. "I assume that he was a criminal like my mother."
The cry of an infant suddenly rang out within one of the chambers.
Maester Lyman flinched. "I must go, but I hope we can speak again." He hastened for the same door which he'd opened the first time Miru had met him. It was clear that the crying infant was one of his charges, for the screaming soon stopped after he went inside.
Miru felt Matthias' eyes upon her before she turned to look at him.
"Father will be busy with the council," Matthias murmured. "Maybe we can see Aunt Jena about it."
"What about you?" Miru asked. "What about Lord Redfort? We came here to seek out your kin, did we not?"
"And we may have just found one," Matthias reminded her. "One who actually wants to speak with us."
Miru could find no argument against that. "Let's go, then."
It took them considerable time to make their way through the castle; the Great Hall was keeping the lords occupied, but there were plenty of women and children who were exploring the castle. This also meant that the guards were doubled and kept busy with maintaining order. In the midst of all that, Miru and Matthias went to Maegor's Holdfast.
"Did Father ever mention such a woman to you?" Matthias muttered to Miru as they walked across the drawbridge. "A woman executed for murder?"
"Never," Miru answered. "I don't understand it."
"Who do you think she murdered?"
"How could I possibly even guess?" Miru asked him exasperatedly. "We don't know anything about her yet!"
They said nothing more about the subject until they reached Princess Jena's chambers.
The Kingsguard knight known as Ser Niall Crane stood before the door when they approached.
"Princess Jena is not within," he told them. "She went to the Great Council."
"Bollocks," Matthias muttered. When Ser Niall glanced down at him, he quickly spoke in a louder and more courteous tone. "Thank you, ser. We'll take our leave."
Just then, the door opened behind Ser Niall. Princess Kiera stood in the doorway, looking careworn and bitter. There was a goblet in her hand which Miru could see was half-full of wine. Her gaze lingered upon Miru and Matthias for a moment before she turned back to Ser Niall.
"They can wait for Jena with me," she told him before beckoning Miru and Matthias to enter her chambers.
Vaella sat by the fireplace, staring at the flames whilst clutching a cat in her hands. She ran her hands up and down the cat's body as it purred contentedly.
"Does she know about her rejection, Your Grace?" Matthias asked Princess Kiera.
"Bother me not with empty courtesies," Kiera told him. "Besides, you are Jena's kin." She turned to look upon her daughter with a sad countenance. "And I tried to explain all this to her, but how do you explain something which you barely understand yourself? Truth be told, I doubt she ever cared."
Miru observed Vaella as the girl smiled placidly at the sound of crackling logs and the cat's purrs. She felt relieved that Vaella would never know the burdens or tribulations of queenship.
"What will you do now?" She asked Kiera as the three adults sat together on a couch which faced Vaella and the fireplace.
Kiera's hand made a dismissive wave. "Ask me when they choose their king."
"Fair enough," Matthias remarked, still uneasy at Kiera's unfriendly demeanour. "I'm sure any one of them will allow you to stay here."
"Stay here," Kiera echoed sullenly as she took a sip of her wine.
For a moment, the awkward silence lingered in the room, until Kiera spoke again in that same aggrieved cadence. "When I was a child, my father and uncle told me that I was betrothed to a prince. I was going to become a queen in a faraway land."
"I used to dream of such a fate," Miru admitted, thinking of that faraway childhood when she was still a peasant child in Crakehall, imagining what life must be like for the highborn whom her parents and ancestors had served for thousands of years.
"You were lucky that it remained a dream," Kiera retorted. "I never wished to come. I hated being here. I hated my betrothed, and he hated me."
Something in her voice gave Miru pause. "What changed?"
"Daeron," Kiera answered softly. "They speak so cruelly of him, just because he was no warrior." She seemed ready to spit, but held herself back. "Any brute can swing a sword! Just look at Aerion! What sort of backwater would decide manhood on such standards?"
Miru could sympathize. Living in the Summer Isles and Braavos had opened her eyes to how unappealing life in Westeros truly was. And she at least had been able to escape Westeros at a young age.
"Daeron loved me," Kiera went on. "And I loved him. But I couldn't save him." She took another sip of wine.
"Save him?" Miru asked.
"From his father," answered the princess. "He never forgave Daeron for being different. It broke Daeron to be hated by his own father, and he drowned his misery in wine. He never recovered from the deaths of our children, and he blamed himself for Vaella's slow wits."
She cast a melancholic glance at her daughter before her expression turned especially ireful. "Nor did he forgive himself for ever trusting those monsters."
Matthias started at the way Kiera's tone shifted to an almost bestial growl. "When did he trust them?"
"He used to consult them about his dreams of the future. He never understood them himself, but they must have. It meant that they could secure their power all the more easily." Kiera drained her goblet. "He did realise what they were. That's why they killed him."
Miru stared in surprise at Kiera. "Did they?"
Kiera met her gaze. "You will hear that Daeron died of pox, that he got it from a whore. Most fools will believe that because he drank in taverns and rutted with others for a time before we married. I promise you, I knew him better than anyone, and I know he would never betray me, even when he was drunk. He loved me, and he loved Vaella!"
So passionately did she utter that declaration that tears went down the princess's cheeks. Miru was tempted to embrace her, but she felt too diffident. Instead, she tentatively reached out and took the princess by the hand.