Miru
"Must I explain everything to you? We cannot take action without word from the others! When the time comes, we will all be needed, I doubt it not. Until then, keep your bloody stubborn heads down!"
Miru bit her lip as she watched Sadog turn around and stride angrily from their table towards the nearest doorway.
"Well," Baalun grumbled as he ate the last morsels of food from his plate. "What crawled up his arse this morning?"
"Leave it," Miru urged her younger brother. "He may have been harsh, but he was not wrong."
"Still doesn't give him the right to be so cross with us," Matthias pointed out. "We did what we were supposed to do."
"I know we did," Miru remarked patiently. "And now let's go to the docks and wait for Father to return."
"Very well," Baalun answered with a shrug. "Only let's bring Bejjo and the others, too."
Thus did the three of them leave the Great Hall, ignoring those who went to worship the holy day of the Lamp Holder.
When Titus and Leroya had sailed off, half a dozen of the Black Bolt's crew - led by the archer called Bejjo - had remained behind to help protect the rest of Titus' children. Two of them were Summer Islanders, one was Rhoynish, while the others were Braavosi. When Miru and her brothers sought them out, however, there were only five of them instead of six.
"Nosipho is away," Bejjo replied. "She's escorting young Amabel about the city."
Miru was about to ask who that was, until she recalled the young woman from Gulltown that Sadog had brought with him. She had been baffled by his impulse, for Amabel was sweet and pretty enough, but from her brief interactions with her, it was clear to Miru that the young prostitute shared nothing in common with Sadog. She just hoped that her older brother would ensure that she was looked after once they went back to Braavos.
"So be it," Baalun acknowledged. "She can join us later when her excursion is finished." He clapped Bejjo on the shoulder. "In the meantime, come with us down to the docks. We're going to wait on Papa and Roya."
The eight of them made their way out of the Red Keep. The wheelhouses had been quickly claimed by other nobles, however.
"Where are they all going?" Matthias grumbled.
"The Sept of Baelor," Miru guessed. "No matter. It's warm enough to walk."
As they set out downhill on foot, even Miru was surprised by the pleasantness of the new day. They marvelled at how quickly the snow had gone. In fact, it was warm enough that Miru unwrapped the thick woollen cloak from her shoulders.
Tidir, a young woman whom Miru was not familiar with, now looked puzzled as her head turned left then right. "I thought this place was covered in snow during winter!"
"It does not always snow in the south of Westeros," Miru explained. "There was one brief winter in the Westerlands when I was a girl, but I only remember seeing snow for a handful of days." Miru said nothing on the matter, but she was surprised to hear the Rhoynish-looking Tidir speak with a strong Summer Islander accent.
It was while they walked down the Hook that Miru noticed something strange about the city. She could still call upon vague recollections of her time in King's Landing as a girl. She had been present for a few holy days, and it seemed that this one was only being acknowledged by those within the castle.
"Sadog was right," she mused when she voiced her observation aloud. "There is no holy day. This was just an attempt to forestall the council."
"Why?" Bejjo asked. Like most Summer Islanders, he towered over most Westerosi. He grew his hair long, and kept it in a tight braid in a fashion which almost mirrored the Dothraki. The sight of him made Miru feel miserable as she thought of her beloved Lozyn back in Braavos.
"I'm sure Sadog will tell us when he finds out," Baalun interjected with a cheeky smile. "No doubt he's off hobnobbing with all those fine lords and ladies."
The crew members laughed as Baalun preened about, in crude imitation of a peacock, until he stumbled over a protruding cobblestone. Thankfully, Miru had anticipated something of the sort; moving quickly, she reached out her hands and steadied him before he'd finished falling forward.
Eventually, the Hook met the Muddy Way, and they found themselves in the foetid chaos of Fishmonger's Square. Men and women called to Miru and her company from behind stalls. Children approached and asked for alms or tried to sell wares of their own. Much to the others' frustration, Miru gave out pennies and ha'pennies to as many of the children as she could.
For her part, Miru was disgusted by how many children were on the streets of King's Landing. After her family's murders, she might have been another waif like them, but Titus had stepped in and given her a future. If my orphanage does that for even one little girl, then it will have been worthwhile.
Still, that thought was a bittersweet one. Titus had indeed rescued her, but he had driven Cayn away.
It had been a terrible risk to approach him, much less to do so whilst standing in the Tower of the Hand. She had fretted that she might regret her decision. This prophecy had come true, but not in the way she had imagined it.
I knew Barba, she tried to reassure herself. I knew her better than Cayn did. He was too busy being a squire to bother with us. The more she tried to convince herself of that, the less she believed it. He cared. Of course he did. He even stood up to Aerion for our sakes…
Had she truly known Barba? Barba had told her about how she had spent years looking after herself. She had succeeded in stealing a great deal, to be sure, but had it truly been enough that she could abandon Titus? He had never refused her coin, so far as Miru could recall.
Was it true, then, that Barba had anticipated Titus' death in the Red Mountains? Miru could recall Barba's concerns about that possibility. Who else would have looked after us? We were just two wards who hadn't taken up Titus' offer to become his daughters.
It was all terribly confusing to Miru, especially because she could not decide how trustworthy Cayn was; she wanted to believe, like Titus, that he could break away from Bloodraven's grip.
On the other hand, Miru still shuddered to recall her conversation with Cayn the night before. Titus had told her of that horrid confrontation, including the words which he'd shouted at Cayn as he'd struck the poor lad. It was quite another thing, however, to hear it from Cayn; he'd done his best to be composed, but Miru had still been struck by the loathing and ire in his voice.
Eventually, they made it through Fishmonger's Square and reached the harbour through the River Gate. As usual, there was a great flurry of activity about the ships, even as they left or arrived by the dozen. Fishing boats were already out on the bay whilst larger vessels went past them.
"No sign of the Black Bolt," Baalun remarked as he shielded his eyes from the morning sun.
"Well, let's get a drink," Matthias suggested. "I daresay it'll be a long wait."
"Let's toast to Sadog's good cheer," Baalun laughed, "and to keeping our bloody heads down whilst he kisses the High Septon's arse."
Matthias snickered at those words, only to stop when he saw Miru's expression.
"Shame on you," she scolded Baalun. "He may have been short with us, but he was not wrong. If you think you can do better than Sadog, then take charge by all means. Go speak to those nobles, King Baalun." Her last sentence was drenched with sarcasm.
"Just having a bit of fun," Baalun mumbled, looking equal parts abashed and resentful at this outburst.
Miru shook her head. She couldn't deny that Sadog was less willing to play the older sibling than she was. He had gone to study at the Temple of Love when Titus and Bellaria's children were being born, and he'd never been fully comfortable around children. All the same, he was doing his best, and Miru had heard far too much mockery of him to let it pass unchallenged, especially from her own kin.
"If it's all the same to you," Bejjo suggested tactfully, "let's have that drink."
"Aye," Baalun muttered. "Which one, then?" He glanced about at the different alehouses, eager to move on from his admonishment.
Miru sighed as the discussion began in earnest; she had nothing to offer, and was content to wait for the others to make their decision. In the interval, her eyes wandered to take in the details of the harbour's hustle and bustle.
Eventually, she noticed a boy who stood three or four metres from her, watching a large galley approach the docks. He had his back to Miru, so she couldn't be sure how old he was. He was dressed like a commoner, but even with his face turned away, Miru couldn't help but feel suspicious. His hair and skin are far too well-groomed to pass for one of the smallfolk...
"Miru?"
She turned back to Matthias. "Yes?"
"I said we're going to the Spiced Kraken." He gestured to a tavern which stood beyond the boy. Miru couldn't help but try to steal a glance at him as they walked past him, but she had no true chance to see his face.
Miru put him out of her mind as they entered the rough establishment. The sun had not even reached its zenith, and already there were drunken sailors all about them, full of spirits as they gave voice to their turmoils or aspirations. A grey-haired beardless man stood solemnly behind the bar, with a flint-eyed expression as he served these rough customers. Their teeth flashed as they tucked into steaming plates of fish, oysters, cockles, pork, and chicken. One man turned his face towards Miru as he belched, causing them both to flinch at the sight of each other.
Elsewhere, three men were playing a tune that was lively enough, but which made Miru melancholic. That might have been due to the sight of sailors who clumsily danced to the music, taking grim-faced and careworn prostitutes as their partners. They danced carelessly, even roughly, all while other men clapped their hands and stomped their feet.
"Is this really the best place?" Miru asked her youngest brother.
"Don't worry. You're safe here. See that barman? Old Brel was a mate of Uncle Ollo's. He'll throw anyone out who trifles with us."
Baalun was grinning broadly, as were the other members of the Black Bolt's crew. Matthias said nothing, but held Miru's hand under the table whilst Baalun went to the bar for drinks.
Miru turned to Tidir, the only other woman in this company. "What do you think of King's Landing, then?"
Tidir glanced about, then turned back to Miru and gave a shrug. Now that they were in the tavern, her bald head was beginning to glisten with sweat. "It is not the worst place I've seen, but far from the best."
Fair, Miru thought to herself. What other answer was I expecting anyway? "How many times have you been here before now?"
"Only twice," Tidir replied. "This is only my fifth voyage with Leroya."
"How did you join her crew, then?" Matthias asked.
Tidir's countenance became more solemn. "I grew up on the Isle of Women, but when I was sixteen, my brothers and I went fishing. We were caught up in a storm and thrown far from the isle, and before we could get back, we were captured by a Volantine ship."
Miru had read about the Isle of Women before; it had been a place of refuge for Nymeria and her thousand ships before they'd reached Dorne. Thousands of Rhoynar had refused to leave the Isle of Women, and their descendants continued to live there still. Miru felt foolish for forgetting that, and dismayed at this talk of Volantine slavers. "I'm so sorry."
Tidir waved her hand in a politely dismissive manner. "It was not so bad as it could have been. We never reached Volantis. Leroya found us first."
It had been Xalonyay and Nosipho, Tidir explained, who had led the attack below deck and freed the Volantenes' captives. A shy blush came to Tidir's cheeks as she described how Nosipho had been the one to free her from her chains. As for Leroya's captain of archers, she had cut down three of the slavers with her sword before leaving the last three for the freed slaves to finish off.
"After the battle, Leroya offered to take us to the nearest port, with gold to buy our voyages home. But I decided to join her crew instead."
Miru was astonished. "Have you ever seen your family since?"
"Eventually," Tidir answered. "I saw them again two years ago. Both my brothers are wed now, with children. They were very pleased that I am still alive."
Miru balked at how casually Tidir spoke of such matters. She herself had never ceased wondering about Barba ever since she'd left Westeros behind. "Was it not a struggle for you, then? Leaving them behind?"
"Of course! But I always wanted to see more of the world," Tidir explained. "I can always go back home when I wish. And besides, I have Nosipho," Tidir added with a shy smile.
Miru was about to speak again when a commotion distracted them both.
Outside the tavern, a group of children were gathered in a great circle. They screamed and cackled with excitement as they watched something play out. Miru stared at them until their ranks broke, and she saw that two boys were attacking a third. He was already crouched upon the ground, covering his head in his hands as his assailants kicked and struck him. With a jolt, Miru recognised which boy was being attacked.
"Come on!" She sprang up from the table and beckoned the others to follow, even as Baalun was approaching the table with his arms full of tankards.
"That's enough," Miru shrieked at the throng of children. "Get out of here!"
Before the children had a chance to react, Bejjo and two of the Braavosi were among them, picking up the two attackers and throwing them into the shallow water. The others scattered, leaving the third boy behind for Miru and the others.
"There now," Miru cooed as she knelt beside him and put her hands on his back. "You're safe now."
Much to her surprise, the boy sprang up, shoved her away from him, and tried to bolt away. Before he could escape, Baalun caught up to him and seized both his forearms.
"Look at that," he declared gruffly, "there's gratitude for you!" He turned the boy around and half-carried him back to where the others were standing.
"Mind yourself, Baalun," Miru exclaimed, awestruck. "He's a Targaryen!"
Even if she hadn't seen him before, Miru would have recognised the boy as Aegon's son. From her recollections of how Aegon had looked as a boy, the resemblance was quite uncanny. The only difference was his hair, which he'd clearly gotten from his mother, the raven-haired Betha Blackwood.
Miru's declaration caused the boy to redouble his efforts to get free. Thankfully, his injuries did not seem to be serious, from the vigour of his struggles. The worst of it seemed to be a bloody nose and a large bruise under one eye.
"Unhand me," he yelled at Baalun, who did no such thing.
"A prince?" he mused. "Which one is he, then?"
"One of Aegon's boys," Matthias declared. "I think he's called Duncan, isn't he?"
"Rubbish," one of the Braavosi crew members retorted. "Duncan's the name of that big knight!"
"That's his namesake, I'll warrant," Miru corrected the man. "I heard he and Aegon have been close for a long time."
Had it not been so sunny, Miru might have mistakenly thought the boy had blue eyes. Indeed, the shade of violet was closer to indigo than purple, but it was the final confirmation which Miru needed.
"Let me go," he snarled as he tried to kick Baalun in the shins.
"Mind yourself, lad," Baalun warned as he strengthened his grip.
"I'm a prince," the boy finally admitted, "and I command you to let me go!"
Miru reached out and held the boy's chin. "A prince you might be, but my brother is not of the Seven Kingdoms. He owes you no fealty. And besides, he's also your kinsman."
That caused Duncan to stop struggling. He stared up at Baalun in astonishment. "Him?"
"What's the matter?" Matthias quipped. "Can't you see the family resemblance?"
Duncan reddened at this mockery whilst Tidir, Bejjo, and the other crew members guffawed. "I could have you arrested for this," he warned.
"Arrest your own kinsman?" Matthias laughed.
"What?" The boy's eyes widened. "You too?"
"All three of us," Miru explained. "Our father is Lord Titus Dondarrion, whose sister is your great-aunt."
"Oh," Duncan exclaimed. Some of his bravado returned. "You barely count as kinsmen to me!"
"Maybe so," Miru warned, "but you're a runaway who nearly got himself badly hurt! And now you're going back to the castle!"
As Duncan groaned angrily, Miru turned to her brothers. "I'll take him back. You two stay here and wait." She did not wish for Duncan to know about her father and sister's expected arrival.
She turned to Tidir. "Will you help me escort my cousin home? We can also see if Nosipho has returned."
The younger woman's white teeth flashed in the sunlight as she grinned. She stepped forward and put her hand on Duncan's shoulder. "By all means, try to run," she urged the young prince as Baalun released his hold. "We can bring you back to the castle trussed up like a bushbuck."
Duncan grimaced, but he made no attempt to flee as Miru and Tidir led him to a wheelhouse just beyond the harbour. "The Red Keep," Miru told the driver as she placed two copper stars in his hand. She had barely sat down herself when the wheelhouse jerked into motion.
"What are you doing on the docks, then?" Miru asked Duncan as he sat opposite her inside the wheelhouse.
Duncan folded his arms and said nothing. He simply stared out the window as the wheelhouse took them back up to the Red Keep.
"You're still bleeding," Miru observed. She pulled out an unused handkerchief from her sleeve and held it out. Through some strain of obstinacy, Duncan refused to even look at it as he folded his arms across his chest.
No matter, then. Miru was quite content to sit in silence whilst Tidir hummed a tune to herself.
When the wheelhouse came to a halt, Miru and Tidir led Duncan to one of the guards and explained what had happened. It was not too long before they found themselves in Maegor's Holdfast, where Duncan was immediately embraced by his mother.
"We were so worried!" Princess Betha cried out as she seized her son's shoulders and knelt before him. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing," Duncan mumbled, looking away from his mother.
"Don't you dare give me that tone," Betha warned. "We were about to have the City Watch go looking for you! Do you have any idea what might have happened to you?"
"I was just exploring!" Duncan protested, squirming against his mother's grip. "And the sun is still out, I can look after myself!"
Miru and Tidir exchanged a glance at this indignant protest. Both quickly looked away from each other to hold in their laughter.
Meanwhile, Betha seized a damp cloth from one of her companions and began dabbing her son's face. All the while, she continued to berate and shame him for his stubborn recklessness, and for dismissing the dangers of lurking about the city unguarded.
Finally, after she'd sent her son to his room, the black-haired princess seemed to recall the two women who'd brought Duncan back.
"I cannot thank you enough," Betha proclaimed, already breathless with emotion. "And I am so sorry for the trouble he caused you."
"No trouble at all, Your Grace," Miru urged. "We were glad to bring him back before worse was done."
Betha leaned forward and kissed both Miru and Tidir on their cheeks. "I will not forget this," she promised them. "And if you'll indulge me, my husband will want to thank you as well."
She would not hear of them refusing, and the two of them were unwilling to argue with royalty. Thus Miru and Tidir sat with the princess and her companions, even as they enjoyed Dornish plums, peaches, and blackberry oatcakes.
Much to Miru's relief, it was not long before Prince Aegon strode through the door, followed by the towering Ser Duncan. At once, Betha sprang from her seat and approached her husband.
"I came as soon as I heard," he told Betha as he clasped her hands. "Is he well?"
"He is," Betha assured him softly, then stepped to the side. "You have these ladies to thank for it."
Once again, Miru found herself staring at Prince Aegon Targaryen. She and Tidir had also arisen with the others, and now she found herself curtseying as she'd once learned to do when she was a girl in King's Landing.
Aegon didn't seem to notice her clumsy address, however. His face was flushed with relief as he approached the two women and inclined his head. "I cannot thank you enough," he declared. "If there is any boon you might have of me, and it is in my power to give, I will grant it."
"You are too kind," Miru protested shyly. "It was no great feat." Tidir echoed those sentiments in a much shyer voice. It was clear that she was utterly tongue-tied to be in the presence of royalty.
"Mayhaps not for you," Aegon remarked. "I assure you my son has learned to outwit every guard in this ruddy castle."
"One wonders where he gets that from," Betha quipped, flashing a smile at Ser Duncan. The shaggy-haired giant let out a low chuckle at those words.
Aegon smiled at his wife's wit, but when he turned back to Miru, he gave a start. "I remember you!"
"Your Grace," Miru acknowledged. "I suppose this means our debts are settled."
Aegon grinned. "How fare your brothers, then?"
"Well enough," Miru answered. "We left them behind to bring Prince Duncan back to the castle."
"And your father? How is he?"
"Well enough, last I saw him." The words had left Miru's mouth before she realised what she was saying. Her body turned cold as she tried to think of what else to say.
"That is good news," Aegon answered. "Gods willing, he will be able to attend the council when it convenes tomorrow."
"I certainly hope so," Miru exclaimed nervously. "Gods willing, indeed."
Even before they were finally able to take their leave, Miru's mind was racing over what she'd said to Aegon. Does he suspect my deception? What would he do if he suspected something amiss? Will he say aught to Bloodraven?
It was useless to confide in Tidir, so Miru said nothing of her doubts and anxieties. Instead, she bade her farewell as the younger woman went off to seek her lover where the crew members had been staying just a few hours before.
Miru knew that she should go back to the docks, but she wished to rest in her bed for a time before she rejoined her brothers. Thus, she went up to her apartment in the holdfast, pondering whether or not to draw a bath.
When she emerged from the stairwell, she saw a woman standing in the hallway. She was glancing from door to door in a way that told Miru that she was lost. As she approached, Miru saw that it was none other than Amabel.
"Oh," she exclaimed when Miru called to her. "Hello." She gave a small curtsy of her own, which was somehow much more elegant than Miru's had ever been.
"No need for that," Miru urged cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"
"I lost my key," Amabel answered softly. She was slightly shorter than Miru, so that her eyes were slightly raised when she returned Miru's gaze.
"Very well," Miru answered. "You can stay in my room until Sadog returns."
"Thank you, milady," Amabel murmured as she gave a smile that was clearly meant to be sweet, but which caused Miru to feel a strange sensation.
"I'm no lady," Miru answered, only for her eyes to be drawn to a pendant which she had never seen on Amabel before.
The chain was a simple one, made of what appeared to be a cheap metal like iron. What drew Miru to it was the ruby which was set in the pendant. It was of a very fine quality, for it seemed to almost glow in the torchlight. "Is that one of Sadog's gifts?"
"Yes and no," Amabel replied. "I bought it with his money. Thought he might like to see something shiny when I ride him next." She giggled as she fondled the ruby with one finger.
Once again, Miru wondered what her brother meant to do with this poor girl, and hoped that he would find some way to leave her better off than she'd been before. "Shall we, then?" She turned to her chamber and unlocked the door with her key.
Amabel followed her inside and sat upon one of the couches by the window. Miru turned back to her after she took off her winter gear. "When did you and Nosipho come back?"
"Less than an hour ago, I think," came the demure reply.
"Did Nosipho leave you alone in the hallway, then?"
"Oh no!" Amabel shook her head. "She wondered where the rest of you were, so she went off to find you."
Unlucky, Miru lamented to herself as she thought of how Tidir would have to go all the way back to the docks. Assuming Nosipho found our note and went there, anyway. She thought of seeking Tidir and warning her, but she reckoned it was already too late for that.
"Would you like something to drink?" Miru asked Amabel.
"Wine, if you please."
"As you wish." Miru, who only ever drank sparingly, still had the same wine bottle which had awaited her on the first day in King's Landing. The Myrish glass was tinted green, which made the wine inside it look black. After she filled a goblet for Amabel to drink, she picked up another and poured wine for herself.
"Very kind, milady," Amabel praised her as she lifted her goblet. "Your good health."
"And yours." Miru lifted her hand so that their goblets clinked, then brought it to her mouth and sipped the Arbor red.
A sigh left Amabel's mouth as she smacked her lips. "This isn't like the wine Sadog was drinking."
"He prefers sour Dornish red," Miru explained. "This is a dry red wine from the Arbor."
"I like it!" Amabel took another long sip. "What do they drink in Braavos?"
Thus they spoke together, with Miru detailing pieces of her life in Braavos and the Summer Isles as they sampled more of the Arbor red.
Perhaps it was the wine's effect, but Amabel was surprisingly insightful, displaying a genuine curiosity for what Miru had to say. Mayhaps this is who she is with Sadog?
Before long, Miru found herself speaking of Lozyn, but halted when she saw a strange smile on Amabel's face. Once again, an unpleasant feeling stirred deep within Miru, but she did not understand why, and it faded too soon from her countenance.
When she didn't continue, Amabel leaned forward. "I had a feeling you were one of those women."
"What do you mean?"
"I meant I sensed it about you, milady. That you never went for men. Or did you ever?"
Miru faltered. She was remembering Brodda Hill again. She could feel his coarse hands again, smell his foul breath, hear the way he'd gasped between harsh whispers telling her to keep quiet and hold still…
"Milady?" Amabel asked, but a cold feeling had settled in Miru's stomach, spreading until her tongue seemed to freeze in her mouth.
It had been a long and uncertain journey for her to recover from Brodda's cruelty, one which she was not willing to share with Amabel.
As for her preference for women, there had been signs when she was a young girl, but she had not recognised them until she was older, when she came to the Summer Isles. There had been Septa Jyzene, whose voice had always sent gentle shivers through her body and lulled her into a trance whenever she'd spoken. She had not realised the depth of her feelings for the septa until after she'd left Westeros, and Jyzene had returned to Miru in her dreams and fantasies. Then there had been Efua, the girl who had been her first new friend in Ebonhead, who had taken her swimming, and who had been her first kiss as they'd held each other in that azure water. All the same, it had not been easy for Miru, and it had taken years of study in the Temple of Love to embrace her beauty and accept the love of those who saw it for themselves.
"You don't have to speak of her again," Amabel murmured. "I understand, you know."
"You enjoy men and women alike, then?"
"Of course!" Amabel's giggle sent a shiver down her spine. "So much more to learn and so many ways to explore! Just ask your sister!"
What is she saying? Has she been with Leroya? Does Sadog know? Miru put down her goblet. "It is good to explore. Who knows where a flower's roots can enrich themselves?"
Amabel frowned curiously. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Miru made a dismissive gesture. "Something I was taught once in the Temple of Love."
"You studied there?" Amabel's eyes shone with a new light. "I have heard so many stories of such a place."
"Exaggerations, no doubt," Miru declared curtly.
"I doubt that," Amabel purred. "It must have been the perfect place for you, after all you went through."
All I went through? What has Sadog told her of me? Why would he speak so liberally of that?
Miru suddenly sensed that Amabel was sitting closer than before. Her hand reached out and touched hers.
She sprang up from the couch and stepped back. "You forget yourself," she exclaimed.
Amabel remained seated, looking up at her with an expression that Miru could not glean. "Perhaps the stories were exaggerated after all."
Miru was disgusted. It was an attitude which she had received a hundred times from those who hadn't ever set foot in the Summer Isles. They assumed that anyone who studied at the Temple of Love must surely accept any kind of lover, at any time of any day. It was a lie, perpetuated by those who were themselves too insecure to accept the notion that so long as one was a man or woman grown, and willing, they were in charge of their own boundaries concerning sex. There was no shame in having one lover or a thousand, as one priestess had told her.
Lozyn had never shared that notion of sharing one's lovers. She had only wanted Miru, and Miru needed no other love but hers. It had not been a sacrifice, for she was still a Westerosi woman, and she had always held onto the romantic ideal of two lovers, together until the end of their days. Miru had never imagined that she might experience such euphoria, and she protected it all the more fiercely for it.
"Perhaps you should wait for Sadog elsewhere," Miru suggested, in a tone she usually used for only the worst offences amongst her girls in the orphanage.
She was not afraid of Amabel. The girl was shorter and slimmer than her, and Miru had learned a few tricks to defend herself even without a weapon.
"As you wish," Amabel conceded softly. Her eyes did not look away from Miru as she arose. For a strange instant, there was something about her eyes that changed so suddenly that she scarcely noticed it.
"My thanks for the wine," Amabel said as she curtseyed. Then she stalked out of the room without a second's hesitation. The door closed behind her with a clang, causing Miru to jump backward.
She did not leave her chambers as she ought, but nor did she relax as she wished. She fretted to herself as she went over all that had happened. She tried to comprehend what she had sensed, and what had come over Amabel. She pondered what to tell Sadog, even as she felt herself growing wroth that he should be so careless with her secrets.
Finally, there was a knock at the door.
"Who is it?" Miru called as she approached the door.
"It's me! Where have you been, Miru?"
"Oh gods! Matthias!" She had forgotten all about her brothers, and their original reason for going down to the docks. Miru darted forward and unlocked the door; an apology was already forming on her lips as she swung it open.