Lord Husband

Chapter 2

You break your fast with the Queen every morning, but today, you are hesitant to go. For the past few days she has been trying to convince you to set up another meeting with Lord Stark. You show no interest in such an arrangement but you know it is no use avoiding your mother.

You have your handmaiden help you dress for the day in an eye-catching, sapphire gown. It's low-cut but not in a way that wouldn't be considered respectable. You may set many trends in fashion with being the only daughter of the Queen but you are still a princess after all. You have your hair done up elaborately and forgo donning your neck with jewels because you enjoy making the courtiers stare. You like tempting the men who will never be your suitors the most. Making your way to your mother's solar, your gaze falls on a serving boy for perhaps a moment too long. He blushes. You think that you may call on him specially to serve your tea tonight; just because you won't marry him, doesn't mean you cannot enjoy him. Ser Erryk holds the door open for you when you get to the Queen's chambers but an issue arises when you notice her guest.

"Lord Stark." You attempt to put a smile on your face when you notice your betrothed dining with your mother. It comes out more like a grimace.

"Oh darling, I thought you would much rather break your fast with your betrothed today." Rhaenyra smiles sweetly but you can see the pointed look in her gaze. She knows how desperately you've been trying to avoid Cregan Stark. "I'll have my meal with the Dowager Queen."

"Of course, mother. Thank you for the kind gesture." You say through gritted teeth.

She exits the room, leaving you with only Cregan and a cupbearer. You stand, unmoving, near the door. He stands where he had risen from his chair in light of your presence. He awkwardly waits for you to take your seat so he may also be seated again. You make no signs of moving.

"Perhaps you would like to grant your feet a moment's rest, princess?" He gestures to the chair next to him.

You glare at him. "I do not need to be prompted by you in order to seat myself." You decide to settle down in the chair across from him instead of the one he invited you to.

"Of course." Lord Stark tries his best to not roll his eyes at you. "I was pleased when her Grace requested another meeting be set up between the two of us."

"Were you?" You look at him, amused. You can't imagine that the man still wishes to court you after your first encounter.

"I am pleased to have any chance to spend more time with my betrothed. Especially when she is as fair as you are, princess." He says, turning up the charm all the way. "Might I also say that your dress looks absolutely ravishing on you."

"I know it does. That's why I selected it." You say with a roll of your pretty doe eyes.

"A wise selection it was." Cregan comments, somehow managing to stay courteous.

You fill your plate, taking your pick from the vast variety of fruits and you grab a single lemon tart at the end.

"Do you enjoy lemon tarts?" He says, attempting to keep the conversation flowing.

"No." You say sarcastically before taking a bite.

"I take it that you still don't care for conversation?" He speaks, his tone betraying him by revealing a hint of his annoyance.

"Not with any of the men that vied for my hand." You answer shortly.

"I did not vie for your hand. The Queen gave it to me." He seems almost offended by your words. You're sure that a man like him has never had to compete for a woman before.

"Oh good. I'm glad to know that I am not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. What relief that brings me." He cringes at your words.

"I did not say that and you know it isn't what I meant." He says firmly, his patience starting to grow thin.

"I'm sure it isn't." You say passively. As if the conversation isn't worth your time.

"Princess, please help me understand why you seem to despise me so." Your betrothed is clearly spiteful from the fact that he has been saddled with a woman that has next to no interest in him.

"I don't despise you, Lord Stark."

"Then tell me why you act as if marrying me is the worst fate the gods could have bestowed upon you."

"I value my freedom, my lord." You say simply.

"I do not intend to keep you prisoner." He says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.
He doesn't understand. They never understand that being kept prisoner doesn't always mean being held in a cell. Being free isn't defined by your arms lacking physical shackles.

"I can see that this betrothal is not what you want but unity between the Starks and the Targaryens is what the realm needs." He adds.

"I know what is good for the realm. My mother is Queen." You say defensively.

He pauses for a moment and takes a bite of the pastry on his plate, washing it down with a sip of Arbour Red wine. He is clearly thinking about his words, wondering what to say that would upset you the least. "Of course, princess. So you evidently agree that your mother's wishes, as Queen, must be followed?" You're not really sure where he is going with this, if he has a point or is just trying to figure something out for his own benefit.

"Do you think I would be sitting here if that wasn't the case?" you say condescendingly.

Another pause from your betrothed. It seems that Lord Stark is considering his options. He then gives you a tight smile. "My house is very honour bound. You will have your freedom through Winterfell and I will never hurt a hair on your head, nor let anyone else bring harm to you. You may bring as many of your ladies in waiting as you would like and I will not bother you often if you don't wish for it." He lays it out straight for you, the benefits of having him as a husband. At this point, all he wants is for you to not be so bitter towards him.

You stare at him for a moment. You do seem to be a little enticed by the amount of control he is inclined to grant you. You consider being agreeable by simply giving him a nod of your head but that anger still tugs at the back of your mind. The fact that you will be wed to this man with or without your approval makes you sick. "I don't require your protection. I have a dragon." He sighs and looks almost disappointed.

"I offer you more than protection." He says, firm in his beliefs that he would make a fine husband to you.

"Clearly because I get to bring my Ladies in waiting with me to the North. Hurrah." You say with a straight face. "What shall you offer for me and me alone? Something that isn't just for the progression of the realm?" You ask inquisitively.

"Well... I would like to make you happy." He says carefully and you hope he doesn't catch how you let your face soften for just a moment.
You have no idea how to respond to that. The sentiment seems so intrinsic and shallow and yet... you don't believe that you've heard the words fall from a single suitor's mouth until him.

"Oh." The filler word falls stupidly from your mouth. The conversation does not continue on from there. You just pick up your lemon tart and eat with him in silence