@riverlcrd
it was to her great disappointment the word of the new festivities in kings landing only reached her once she was on sea -- the redwyne men were fierce things on their great ships, but no matter how accustomed or loyal they were, there was little they could do in regards to weapon and armory forgery. said fact was a thing that often dampened her mood while on the way to the capital, actually; she was used to having her whims pampered, after all. she already had emeric’s gift ready, a true lavish thing from the reach, but cedric too was her brother, and his nameday approached -- true, it was not so close, but enough so that something for a dashing knight of the reach would be the perfect gift.
so, once on land, she is quick to employ people to plan and prepare something for the tyrell prince. she devotes herself to it, tending to details and overseeing the craftsmanship of the gift herself; the smith might as well be tired of her daily appearances, but she did not care, and attended the meetings religiously.
“you must make sure to perfect the roses, sir.” she tirelessly reminds the man, only prying her eyes away from the intricate work when another patron comes into the shop. she made herself familiar with that, and, enthusiastic as she is, always greeted the people warmly; she steps aside, as of habit, allowing the other to make their requests to the owner of the shop.
but she knew this man. how could she not? she had spent more hours with him than she could ever count; his features would never slip from her memory. “good morrow, ax.” of course. family, duty, honour. family always came first for them. alysanne can not help but to wonder, had cedric knew of his presence when he mentioned the tullys to her? “have you come to prepare yourself for the tournament as well? i fear it may be a lost trip. i am certain cedric is going to unhorse you anyways, you know, just out of habit.” she can not pass on the jest, as if it was her duty to rekindle their amity whenever they met.
