solitude.

Perhaps dull was a poorly chosen word. Perhaps difficult would have applied better. Too difficult, too stubborn, too unpredictable. Rhaena was certain that the concept of love, marriage and loyalty was finite. It could not survive her. "Kyra..." she speaks her name softly, and for a moment she hesitates. "Is marriage something you want for?" brows knit together, and on the surface she appears a lot calmer than she truly was. Even the sweet jest that followed, did very little in terms of stilling her nerves. "We are in the wrong place for this conversation. Ideally there would be a bed. Or a table, at the very least. Something...sturdy." a chuckle is sweet, and short and she focuses quickly back on the halls which lay ahead. Only she is stopped in her tracks by a sudden pull, and as she faces Kyra, listening to words she'd truly needed to hear, her mouth falls open but no words seem to come out. Without hesitation, she steps in to wrap her arms around the other. It felt so...good, to be seen. To be understood. "Thank you. Truly, I --" a beat, "Thank you."

Rhaena grew to regret most choices she'd ever made. And while she would never admit the regret which ate away at her like greyscale, it best reflected in her reluctance to make sure decisions as the time went on. Now, she could no longer tell a good decision from a bad one. A right choice from the wrong one. She did not know the words to say, so that Shaera may understand, empathise, forgive? But what was there to forgive? What was there truly, to apologise for? "I should have spent more time here." she says at last, her eyes refusing to shy away from the piercing gaze of a girl who now held back raging fire. "Growing up. I should have spent more time with you, all of you." perhaps everything would have turned out differently, if she had. "I was arrogant, you see, I always thought I had time. That some day, I would settle down, and make up for lost time and...well, I was wrong. And selfish. And I am most sorry for it now." she pushes back the tears that well at her eyes, looking up and to the side in a manner that allowed for eyes to settle as she swallowed dry. "But when have apologies ever meant a thing?" she lets a breath in calm her, soothe her, before eyes return where they were demanded. "I may have spent most of my life travelling Shaera, but the time I spent home, I spent at Driftmark. And unlike my own mother, unlike yours....Corwyn actually cared for me enough to show it." Rhaena did not know if her cousin cared to hear any of this at all, if she was making matters better or worse. But she needed to be the one to speak her reasons, to let the other know her. "Morghos came to me late too, and a trip from Dragonstone to Driftmark had always ben easier, more convenient, quick. So I grew closer to Monterys, than I did Vaelora. Closer to Velaryons, than I did you....your siblings, or the Blackwoods at Riverrun. It is not to say I disliked you, that I wished any of you any harm only that -- the circumstances have made me develop stronger ties to..." she was feeling a sense of frustration rush over her, anger even, for being put in a position where she could never win. "I did not wish to betray you. I did not wish for war. I only wished to be there for our cousins in their time of grief, as I had been there when your own brother passed. I wished to mourn." "But there was no time. For mourning, for anger, for me to process the extent of the situation at hand. I was there. And I stood by Monterys. As I have since we were children. As I always have." and always will. For that, she would not apologise. Monterys was closer to her than her own soul. For him, she would have betrayed herself -- betrayed the entire world. She owed him that. But that was story for a different time. Perhaps different ears altogether. At last, as they reached the arches signifying the end of a seemingly endless hall, and the beginning of a narrow path leading to the gardens, Rhaena looked over to nod at her cousins words. An exceptional holder of grudges. She thinks the words over, wishing at times she'd been cut from that same cloth. "I will make it up to you. You'll see." she says, a smile tugging at her lip as her words stay coated with utmost certainty. "And I will never leave you again."

“I am alright. I am not frightened not about this or this harbinger business. I am lonely..” She speaks in a rare moment of complete vulnerability holding his hands. “I would love to be in love but love has never been kind to either of us. I will be okay though. I will bring the baby back home and then I will tell you the secret of its parentage- who its father is and you can pretend as long as you like to be its father there is hardly a finer friend or a more honorable man I would trust with that task.”

"I will teach them how to dance." he says softly, his voice calm and firm, coated with assurance. "I will teach them everything they ought to know. If it comes to it." Rickon did not know what plans Lyanna had for herself, and her child. If the father of the babe would take on the responsibility, or if she would be left to figure it out on her own. So he decided, rather early on, he would never let her be entirely on her own. "My trip won't take long." he reassures, pulling her closer into a hug as he notices her mood shift ever so slightly. "I should be back before the little one comes." it was a hope, more than anything -- for there was no way of knowing when she might go into labour. And there was a high chance he might not be here, though it hardly mattered. Her entire family was here, as was his own, and Ashara would make for much sturdier support than he ever could. So he let those thoughts ease his mind, as he took a step back. Her words struck a cord of his own loneliness, and he found himself avoiding her gaze for a short moment. "Aye. I understand." smile is weak at his lips, but he digs for words of reassurance nonetheless. "It is not love that is unkind. Good things will come. You will see." Rickon believed it to be true. For her. His was a much different story, the kind he did not wish to think on. And he did not believe in his own happy ending. "We are family, Lyanna. I will always be there for you. And your baby. Father or no, the child will want for nothing. I will make sure of it." he squeezes gently at her hand. "And neither will you."

Her presence is enough to ease his nerves. Her cheek upon his shoulder warming the blood that rushed through his veins. Though Varyn already had sisters, Helaena was acquired by accident. And yet he was just as protective of her, as he'd been of his blood. "I've just the right amount of faith in you. Believe me, if I thought you'd make a fool of yourself, I would not shy away from letting you know." he leans in, smile at his lips. "Matter 'o fact I'd be happy to let you know." A the jest of his words mellows, the seriousness of hers fills the air. Varyn was not the sharpest axe at the smithy, far from it, but he knew how to recognise danger -- and he knew when concern was an appropriate response to it. "Men create peaceful and forgiving gods in times of peace, and cruel and vengeful ones in times of unrest. We must offer people peace before we take away their prophet, Vaelora is aware of this. But we cannot do so if we have traitors in our midst. Rooting them out should be the highest priority."

Some people were more difficult to read than others. And it's those who spoke the truth, who were often the most difficult of all. Alson, as far as Rhaena could tell, was one of those people. Too honourable to lie, too smart to speak, and too nervous to understand Rhaenas intention had been to simply flirt her night away. Alas, such intention now morphed into something else entirely -- a curiosity she could scarcely keep at bay. "You Northerners are an interesting people. You fall in love once and can seemingly never do so again. Why do you think that is?" the mention of a wife caused a curious brow to rise. "You would still marry? Though you could not love? Interesting." fingers tap against the wine cup in her hand, and she wonders just how far she can wove her string of thought. "So if you might marry a woman you are unlikely to love, might you fuck a woman you are unlikely to marry?" another cheeky smile passed her features and she pulled away, though her eyes never wavered. "Forgive me, Alson, if I seem too forward. But I am looking to drink my night away with someone I stand a chance with." a wink follows her words. "If I do not stand such a chance with you, I insist you let me know."

Alys was never particularly religious. But she kept her prayers. Old gods, new gods, fire gods, Valyrian ones -- it mattered little, so long as she was seen in her worship. Which is why she only ever visited the sept when she was certain people would be there, and her visit would not be a waste. With religious fanaticism on the rise, and an increase in pressure to maintain appearances, today her visit had a two-fold purpose. To be 'seen' as well as to 'see'. And see she did. Monterys Velaryon walked with all the confidence she would expect a false king to uphold. And she approached him with more of the same. "My lord." her curtsy is effortless, and she looks up to his eyes with a playful sort of curiosity. "I should like to know which gods you worship, my lord. They must hold great power indeed -- seeing as your head is still very much attached to your neck." more to that, he was free to roam the streets. To keep his many titles. To do as he, more or less, pleased. "I must say, I am surprised to see you out on the streets given the fact this new cult aspires to see you dead -- perhaps even more than the people you'd let down. Come. I've a carriage waiting."

There is a short moment following her words, where his face is still serious and unsuspecting -- and then a gentle chuckle leaves his lips and he shakes his head as ease washes over him and his shoulders relax. Rickon was grateful, that a single string of amusing words could so easily drown out the tension, and they could fall into a familiar and calm dynamic instead. "I am compelled to offer a retort, but the lack of sleep has left me uninspired so just...do me a favour and pretend I've said something witty." Her words are more quiet now, and even, and he listens intently as his eyes follow subtle movements. He'd always enjoyed her thoughts, even if it was rare to be graced by the same. Something in the way she spoke demanded attention, as if every word was important -- and she never wasted a single one. "What happened in the past three months?" his own voice is quiet, and weary. "That you feel you might've changed?" A nod was instinctive, and he'd felt the wave of something strange wash over him. "I understand." he said calm, and firm. Shaeras words pertained to her own experience, her own feelings -- her own siblings. And yet they were a perfect match for his own. There was relief in that, in knowing he was not alone. Even if it did awaken a certain sense of guilt in turn, for he had liked the girl -- and he did not wish for her to feel as she did. To feel as he did. "More than you know." Silence hangs between them a moment, and he lets the warm milk soothe whatever feelings still stirred beneath his skin. A quick shrug passed his shoulders as he considered the question. "The Queen called, I came." only it was not as simple as that. "My family is here, my brothers my nephews. Mostly I came so Lyanna would not travel alone." the rumour of him fathering Lyanna Stark's child was an amusing one, and while it could not have been further from the truth, he still felt the weight of responsibility regarding her well-being. At first he begged her not to go, the Kings Road was no place for a woman so far along -- but she'd always been as stubborn as a mule, and he'd always been poor at convincing anyone of anything. And then there was the matter of Daenya, matter he tried his best not to linger on for too long. "Your sister..." he rubs the back of his neck again, nervous, avoidant. "I've yet to see her." the admittance alone caused a sting, right where the soul should be. "Perhaps it would be for the best if I didn't." eyes flick up again, and a anxious smile had found its way to his lips, though he was not aware. "Less...complicated that way."

"His brother? Cassian? Was it?" her brow rose at the question, and she moved past the mention of a child without any further curiosity. Children were all the same. Be they dull or interesting, they were only children. Yet she could not help but smile at the direct comparison made by her cousin. "Not sure if I should be offended or flattered. Either I sound like a child, or I am being compared to a child prodigy." As her laugh melted into the air around them, and they each took a sip of a drink honouring the dead, Rhaena observed the other as she appeared to have wandered away with her thoughts. Patiently, she waited for her to return, along with the words that did not come as much of a surprise -- though Helaenas transparency on the matter, might have. "We all mourn differently, my love. You are not dark-hearted for escaping the sharp clutches of grief. Perhaps they will come for you yet, perhaps they never will. Either way, do not allow guilt to fester over what you believe you should be feeling." Rhaena would have used the word 'fortunate', had it not been so unfortunate in its very essence -- for a mother to be so cold, so unloving, that her own child could not truly mourn her. That they should find freedom in that loss. It was most unfortunate indeed, to have a mother such as that. And most unfortunate still, that she could relate so deeply. "Do you think a good ruler can exist?" her question follows the remark regarding Visenya's rule, and she cannot help but wonder, "Seven Kingdoms, one Queen. It seems an impossible task." she did not envy Vaelora, she did not envy a single person ever sitting the sharp iron chair. "We can say peace makes for a sign of a good ruler but, peace for whom, exactly? For decades we have had peace under your mother, and people still starved. They still suffered. Perhaps suffering is inevitable. Perhaps peace is a mirage." she no longer knew what to think on the matter. Only she was starting to truly wonder if power should belong to so very few -- when the consequences of those who wielded it reflected onto so many. At last she snapped out of thought, and in a desperate need to provide some sense of reassurance, she reached for her cousins hand. "I would be more worried if I did not believe Vaelora had a plan. I trust them. I trust things will work out as they should..." with the back of her palm, she brushed gently against the others cheek and offered the warmest and most comforting smile she could muster. "And once they do, I will leave Essos behind. And stay close to you. For good. I promise."

He laughed at the words sweetly, and only when his eyes settled on her features did he realise she had not spoken in jest. Smile disappeared as brows furrowed together, and he looked over his shoulder into the far distance where the girls congregated. "Aye, is that so?" he tried to hide the fact he'd been somewhat pleased, after all, he'd never exactly been the desirable brother. And it felt good. To be desired, that is. The sweetness of the feeling did not last for long, for ultimately his desirability did not matter. "You may tell 'em I am as available as the brothers of the night's watch." he smiled then, "And a paramour? Really? Do I seem the type?" perhaps having grown broader and somewhat taller in months past had painted the wrong image. He may have grown less reluctant to speak with women, but he was still just as unlikely to take liberties. "Don't think marriage is in the cards for me, -- but it sure seems to agree with you. Where is your lord husband?" his eyes find hers a moment, and then return back to the road. "Or should I say a ruling lord? How is that working out for the both of you? Did you find Oldtown to your liking?" the following thought is random, and he finds it awfully amusing. "You know, this is the first time we meet without you holding a knife to my throat."

Alysannes curious gaze remained intent on the other. Studying her expression, her every move. Shaera was never the easiest person to read, though luckily, she was honest enough for Alys to understand. There was a sense of ease that brewed beneath her skin every time she found herself in princess' company -- unsurprisingly, having her back made the entire city feel more alive again. More like home. Alys chuckled sweetly at the question, pulling her chair closer to where Shaera sat nibbling on a fruit she would abandon shortly after, and without any hesitation she reached out for her hand and eyes narrowed in thought. "We could go North, yes. Only you are far too dear to me, you see, I cannot in good conscience allow for such a thing. The North is harsh and cold, and summer snows may not cut through skin like knives, but they are still snows." the following suggestions were far better, she thought, it was apparent in the way her eyes softened once contemplation dug into her mind. "Summer Isles, huh? A decent place for a pair of unaccompanied girls. We could be happy there. For a time." she let her thumb pass over the knuckles of Shaeras hand absentmindedly, as another smile tugged at her lip. "Of course I could never give up the silks and the jewels for good, nor could I get used to all the salt and the sand and the heat so -- we would have to move on sooner than you'd likely wish for it." and yet when it came to Essos, there had always been a place she'd dreamed of someday visiting. "Pentos is warm. And so long as we are rich, our life there could prove to be most comfortable indeed." As her friends eyes shift over to the blackwater bay, and her voice drops to a more serious octave, Alys does not let the attention slip from her face as she leans in somewhat closer. A nod of understanding follows the words, and she will reach for a vine of grapes to pluck as she ponders her own thoughts on the matter. "You are right to feel uneasy." she says at last. "There will be many who will see this pardon as a sign of weakness. Many who will attempt to poke at fresh wounds, and sow discord where they can." throat clears, and she reaches for a cup of water. "But we are not them. We will stand behind our Queen and pretend this is the most brilliant idea she's ever had. And we will use this as an opportunity to find out who our enemies are, and who our friends. Remember, my dear friend; everything is an opportunity. And this particular one put a stop to a needless war, solidified our Queen as the rightful heir, brought your family back together and united the Seven Kingdoms however fragile that union might be. The matter of politics has never been secure to begin with, so perhaps this is best we could have hoped for." a pause. "And we've but a single religious fanatic to thank." The thought of Sulvan sends chills down her spine, and she tries not to let the fear show. "He is just a man. But his ideas?" she straightens in her seat, toying with a grape between her fingers. "We are a few. And the people are many. If they buy into the teachings of this false prophet -- well, the dragons could burn down the people, but they could not scorch away an ideology. Last thing we need is for this fanatic to turn martyr."

She can almost feel the sudden spike of anxiety within the other. Her gaze alone causing a smile to push into Rhaena's cheeks. There was something so awfully endearing about Alson Stark. So honest, and honourable and true. It reminded her just how much she'd loved the Northerners. Even the ones who'd spent a better part of their life and service right here, in this wretched city. Her curiosity does not waver. Instead, she places a cup of wine to her lips and goes, "No, you don't seem the brothel type." without much hesitation, she scoots closer, "-- You do not seem the type to stray for nothing less than love. Which means...I'm asking the wrong questions, aren't I?" her head tilts, eyes glistening beneath the soft lighting of the candles. "Have you ever been in love?"

his edges were sharper than when they'd last spoken. it was lost on her, most likely, for alys saw in him what domeric saw in her -- family. his little sister he'd lovingly taunted since childhood, making a home for herself amongst lions and dragons. after bethany's murder, he'd remained in the capital in search for those responsible for the ignoble deed, the blow of an axe insufficient in answering his demands. most of his letters hadn't come from king's landing, but from oldtown, where he'd lapped up ideas of a new world, where young girls wouldn't be slain at fanciful parties, people wouldn't starve in the streets, and kings and queens wouldn't sacrifice the lives of thousands in the name of justice. his heart beat on for vengeance, for change, for betterment. still, were alys to look for fatigue in his visage, she'd find it in the lines surrounding his eyes, deeper than before. "i've always had a feeling our tutors were neglectful of you, ensuring you could read as befits a lady." the embrace warmed him, taking a moment to look at her properly, retort poised on the tip of his tongue. "do the letters on the pages cause you a headache? surely the royal tutors wouldn't mind taking on another student." what she said as he fell into step beside her, sparked concern. he wouldn't be surprised, had they instructed her to ask. "aye. is the queen worried? are you their pet now?" his sisters ties to the south were understandable, there was nothing to do in the cold, bleak grey of the dreadfort. advantageous marriages and connections were forged elsewhere. that didn't mean he liked their ties to house lannister. "i know they told you otherwise, but you may attend your good lady's needs and think independently all the same."

"Oh it makes perfect sense you'd perceive them as neglectful, dear brother. I took up far less of their time than you ever did. It's what happens when one need be told something but once." her retort is quick, followed by a sweet laugh. Before she'd left for Kings Landing, when they were still gracing the muddy streets of Dredfort, Alys was rather slow with her retorts. And Domeric, being older and wittier, at times brought her to tears with his own. Yet, time passed, and things changed, and she was no longer a tongue-tied child. "Aye, and here I went begging for the milk of the poppy 'stead of looking up a royal tutor to decipher your ramblings for me. I truly am an imbecile." His question caused her mouth to drop, though a smile remained -- and she punched him gently on the arm. "You wound me. Though 'suppose I should not be surprised your distrust has grown and festered to such an extent; you can no longer imagine your own sister might seek to speak with you without an ulterior motive." she let go of his arm to push open the door of the small solar at her right hand side, not once abandoning the conversation at hand. "Oh, oh nice try. You're being evasive Domeric. Why?"

olyver had not only grown into his features, adorably round in the cheeks and longer, honey-brown ringlets bouncing with each step, he'd grown into his character as well. sweet-natured, inquisitive, gentle, and decidedly stubborn in his insistence to have his way. his legs grew sturdier with each day, feet surer of themselves, a skill he decided to showcase at each given opportunity. "careful, one step at a time." ashara cautioned and held his hand as they strutted onwards, pacing him, for he had yet to learn to evade obstacles. it earned her a disgruntled whine -- as did an attempt to prop him on her hip, protesting with a shrill no mama. their destination, the heart of the gardens in all their spring glory, was reached eventually -- where varyn stood, though she had not the chance to read his expression, her focus on the newly-minted lord dayne instead. "he insisted on walking, as you may have heard. he has grown rather headstrong."

Varyn woke up earlier than usual, adamant to look presentable and neat and sober. He changed his shirt four times, eventually settling for one he'd put on at the very start. Anxiety unnerved him, and he broke into a sweat as soon as he set off for the gardens. He'd wanted desperately for Ashara to approve of him. For her to see that he was, or at the very least could be, a good father. That she'd nothing to fear. And in his desire to impress, he found himself stumbling over words as soon as she'd appeared in his presence. "G'morrow m'lady." his anxiety lessened the moment his eyes fell on the boy at her hip. And while many maintained the boy was a spit image of him, his father, all Varyn could see were the traces of his mother. "Stubborn, ey? My boy, are you a lion or a mule?" he joked, stepping closer. The little boy certainly did not understand the words, so perhaps it was the sound of them alone which brought out a laugh. "Funny, is it? Come 'ere boy." with arms stretched out to take the child, Olyver shifted his head and held onto his mother tighter instead. "Oh, oh I see. You're a shy one now, ain't you? No matter." he shrugged, a smile still over his lips as he gestured toward the breakfast area. He had the servants set everything up on the blanket over the grass, along with the toys and the cushions. "I hope you don't mind. Thought Olyver would prefer it to a table. He seems a bit...young for that still. Suppose I wouldn't know. It's alright, though, isn't it? He'll like it this way? Won't he?"

"Are you truly speaking with me as if nothing happened? Like you did not betray your own blood?" Jaehaerys asked, hands behind his back as he turned to face Rhaena. He titled his head to the side, studying her for a moment. "I'm certain some time ago you were wishing for my death, which almost happened I have to say." He did not know how he survived, he was mostly certain he wasn't supposed to but he believes that he has the Gods of Old Valyria to thank for keeping him alive. "Well enough. And you?" He asked her.

"War of kin, Jaehaerys. I was bound to betray my blood no matter which side I chose. An impossible choice." yet she made hers. And for that, he had a right to resent her. "I have not once wished for your death, nor harm of any kind, cousin. I never wished --" words cut off. There was little use of setting up a defence, it would not change the past. Nothing ever could. "This war took much from us. I will not allow it to take even more."

Varyn existed solely in the moment he was in, the place he was in, the crowd which surrounded him. For that reason alone, the closest person in his life of late had been Sirya Sand. For she was the one most oft in his proximity. Out of his siblings, Cersha was the only one he ever thought of. He'd seen neither Rickon nor Cerelle in years, and in that time he'd sent a total of four letters, each shorter than the one that proceeded it. So as his baby sister sat across from him now, fully grown and with all the aura befitting a Lannister, his eyes widened in genuine surprise and he let out a sweet laugh. "Elle?" he pushed himself off the chair, walking over to lift the other by the shoulders and pull her into a tight hug. "Gods, you've grown little cub." he let go and stepped away, giving her a better look before finally realising she'd taken his drink. "You drink now, ey? A Lannister through and through. Maggie --" he looks over at the waitress. "Bring us a pint, love." Maggie nodded and walked off, his attention shifting back to the other. "So? Don't tell me father sent you here to marry you off?"

DAENYA IS DOING HER BEST NOT TO BE MELANCHOLIC . it is — an effort as of late . daeny wouldn't like to think of herself as naturally melancholic , but recent events had left her with little other choice . the guilt of the death of her mother , the weight of the eight , and —rickon . and yet even still , there was a silver lining . the feud between her family had ceased . they were all here in king's landing , together . daeny tried to find comfort in it . her efforts are eased by the sound of a voice that makes her perk up . " rhaena !" there is a blatant surprise that colours daenya's voice as she shifts to sit up , her smile wide in response to the sight of her cousin . daeny doesn't know how long it's been since she's seen rhaena . daella was in king's landing during the war , or at least some of it , but rhaena was another circumstance entirely . " oh , i — it is nothing ." daeny tries to shake her head at the concern , knowing that she likely can't hide the evidence of lack of sleep from her features . " i have been on many a journey as of late ." she tries to smile wider with the words . after all , journeys were meant to be fun weren't they ? or at least she always thought they were . she scrambles to her feet then , moving to take both of rhaena's hands in her own to say , " but you have surely woken me up ." she squeezes rhaena's hands then , bright as she says , " it is wonderful to see you . i sought you out during everything yesterday but i had little luck ." daeny tries to swallow her disappointment . after all , did it truly matter now ? " are you well ?" daeny tries tentatively , her eyes searching rhaena's face .

She may not have known her youngest cousin half as well as she wished she had, but such a thing was not needed for Rhaena to notice the worry on her mind. She would not pry, for that she had no right. But she would sit with her beneath the tall godswood tree, and smile as her eyes absorbed features that had much changed since she saw them last. "I have heard of your journeys. Some of them, at least. I should like to hear more." her lips curve into a gentle smile, and she'll reach for her hand. "So tell me more." It becomes apparent rather quick that even a mere attempt at seeking her out was much appreciated, for her eyes soften with a sweet warmth as she goes, "It is wonderful to see you too, truly." with a nod of her head and a shrug of her shoulders she'll ponder the question. "I am...well. Yes. As well as could be, all things considered." that much was true. Rhaena did not wish to speak of her sister, her mother, Daenya's mother, Corwyn, politics, war. More than anything she'd wished to have a conversation that was simply light, and sweet, and happy. "I hear you've become an aunt." she says, "I remember the day you were born, you know? I'd just turned ten. My mother she, well, she did not care to come see you. 'Another child?' she said 'We might as well move to Kings Landing if we're to be there every time she decides to squeeze another one out.' A wonderful woman, truly." she chuckled, knowing Daenya of all people would understand. "That night, I packed a small bag with some bread and cheese and my favourite dolls, and snuck out past the guards all the way to the harbour. I am not exactly tall now, you can only imagine how easy that was to do back then." memory of it warms her. The feeling of simplicity, childish stupidity, bravery. "When I finally got to Kings Landing, a sailor spotted me. Loyal to my mother, fortunately, and he escorted me to the Red Keep. Visenya was furious, though, she'd certainly enjoyed the fact my mother proved herself to be a worse parent." a laugh escaped her. "So she let me see you. You were so small, head full of white hair. I was scared to hold you, I remember. I thought you might break." such a fear did not remain for long, and now she took her cousins hand into her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I stayed for months. Your birth was the longest period of time I'd ever spent in Kings Landing. And then..." everything changed. Her travels began, her bonds weakened. "I did not realise how fast the time would go. You're a woman grown now, and I've not been a part of your life nearly as much as I should have been. I am most sorry for it now."