#script;queenlly

                                    ❝Your grace. What is it, which delivers you to King's Landing at            so late an hour? With night having drawn most souls within embrace of slumber,            would it not have lain preferable to arrive upon the morrow? For I fear his grace            has long since retired to his chambers ; & his mother too, in turn.❞ 

                         ❝ — so seldom of late have foreign monarchs                   & dignitaries graced these hallowed halls. His grace shall                   receive you in appropriate time, for I fear in this moment                   otherwise occupied he discovers himself. ❞ Abed, with                   those three balls of fur. Ser Pounce, Lady Whiskers &                   Boots, I believe their names were...              Regal lion's manner, visage marred & wearied by        late exposures to harsher aspects of the world in which       they claimed residence within, the stump of which stood      out & drew gaze of all further reminder of suffering too oft      dealt unto men. Yet guest right would young queen claim       within confines of Red Keep - & lest Lannisters thought      to deem themselves equal to Freys - – secure she would      lay, should threat maiden not pose.