Aegon Targaryen had thought he had known the feeling before, he had thought he understood how it was. But he was wrong. He didn't know. He didn't understand. Until he saw her. Until he knew of her. Until he met her.
But then again, he knew what she...
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THE ALARMED GAZE OF CASTELLAN SHOOK HER AWAKE. Alana Karstark felt her lips thin in a pound of worry as she swiftly placed her woolen robe, leaning over Alfred's tense shoulders from a distance. Her dark eyes shifted through letters, trying to make sense of it, but as her husband's shoulders tightened as he clenched his jaw. Each moment she saw his reflection from the looking mirror, she found herself aware of the agitation in the swell of his flesh. Since the morrow before, she thought herself foreign to this side of her husband. One who keeps to himself the secrets that swell to burst into the light in front of her.
The moment her husband was called to meet with his advisers, the princess consort knew that the matter was of grave importance, perhaps even of graver concern than she would have liked. Alana had tried to reason with him to share his burdens with her. For the first time since their union, the young Karstark woman found herself at odds with her cousin. Day in and day out, he had not spoken of his troubles since he had returned, shrouded in the winter cold as she lit the abandoned candle eager to be given flame. He wraps his arms around her, giving compromises and placations written in kisses and his flesh warming her own in the winter breeze. A promise that he will tell her when the time comes.
Her princely husband had never truly managed to keep secrets from her, he had always been so terrible of it. Not even in their short courting did he keep himself at a distance, not tell her of the truths she deserved to know. To this day, her husband had been keeping to his vow to speak only truth to her under the eyes of the old gods. At times, her husband whispers his concern to seek her words upon the matter to council him truthfully as she had vowed just as much. Yet upon this matter, he had kept his lips within lock and key. Alana did not know how to feel about such a distance between them. As she grimanced, she tried to make sense of the words on dried ink across the parchment as though she was solving a mystery left from old tomes before their time.
Her heart felt itself beat at the name of her uncle Brandon dried upon the page. Tis not rare for their uncle to write to them, to tell them of the court's happenings. Uncle Brandon more than anyone at court supported his nephew's claim as heir. His tidings came with dearest affection to the family, along with joyous gifts and his visits at the keep. But such tidings in their ancient script and without himself along with it, only a rider, was a cause of much concern.
