night of change | Open
How quickly and dramatically things had changed in the last few months; the Targaryen’s stripped of their titles, a Greyjoy on the throne, her brother dead and now she the Warden of the East. It was enough to make anyone’s head spin, and yet Sharra Arryn had taken to the changes almost like that of a duck to water. There had been two choices, one was to kick and scream and bemoan what had happened, and the second was to accept the way things were now and to make the best of the hand that had been dealt. Sharra had went with the latter. She had never exactly thought herself much of a survivor, but if the way she had handled herself recently was anything to go by, it would appear that she was at least beginning to be one.
Pale fingers worried at her bird skull ring as she stared unseeing at the crowed of lavishly dressed people before her. The Iron Ball was an entirely grand affair that seemingly all of Westeros had been invited to, if the sheer number of guests was anything too go by. Dressed in a gown of sky blue embroidered with little falcons on the bodice in the palest of silver threads, her dark hair bound and coiled in loose braids, and a silver falcon shaped necklace dangling at her throat, Sharra Arryn looked every part the lady of the Eyrie. This did nothing to make her feel at ease with her current situation, however. Parties and large crowds in general were never her thing. Though she hoped she was not wearing her discomfort too plainly.
Green eyes fluttered as she realized belatedly that she was being addressed, stirring her from her reverie. ‘’I’m sorry?’’
