LADY JEYNE ◦ROBB STARK

xiv. the north is in the reach

Only the chamber was so much more beautiful than her green mind could have ever fathomed. In every corner of the ceiling hung a spray of goldencups, glittering down on all the small people who thought themselves so godly; vases of white roses at the centre of every intricately-carved wooden table; gorgeous moonblooms woven around the grand high seats of the Tyrell's as the hosts towered above everyone from their podiums and dusky roses dangled prettily from the top of the large doors that swung open to allow her entry into the polished ballroom.

   It took every piece of restrain her spirit possessed not to have her mouth hung open in awe but it was still not enough, Jeyne marvelling at the glorious beauty of the country's palace.

   "Close your mouth darling— I know we're from the arbour but there's no need to look like a fish." Her mother told her through her teeth, putting on a smile as she scolded her with a gentle but loving side-eye. It had been all of four hours since she had been reunited with the rest of her family, Denyse investigating all that had gone at court and Denys and Maegelle pinching her cheeks til' they were rosy, in delight over how plump they had gotten. It was true, Jeyne had gained a healthy amount of weight— gone was the feeble girl everyone called sickly (behind her back of course) and in place a young woman who's bloom had taken full effect, shown in how almost every dress she previously owned had to be thrown out because it was much too tight around the chest.

   Jeyne didn't mind too much because it meant she would have an entirely refurbished collection of gowns and dresses, her favourite being the pale lemony gown clinging to every new womanly curve that had emerged on her body over spring. An ivory-lace lined it's neckline, leading down to the criss-cross corset that pushed her breasts out just a soft touch stitched to the embroider skirt gliding along the floor with each step she took further into the hall that captivated every speck of her attention.

   Behest to Jeyne, someone had caught a glimpse of cornsilk light feathers fluttering through a hoard of people. Each strand looked like it been meticulously coiled around a finger for hours to get the locks to bounce just right and a ruched up puff at the front of her head. Robb Stark looked away from the girl with rose-crushed petals painting her lips that slipped through the crowd soon enough, returning to laughing with the boys by his side.

"I cannot help it mother, Highgarden is so very heavenly." She said in breaths, green eyes widening and darting between every coup of roses that stole her gaze.

Maegelle scoffed, looping her arm with her little sisters while she slowly guided her through the room she was ogling at. "Of course you'd say that little Jeyne. This is the country of flowers, I wouldn't be surprised if your heaven actually did look like this."

"Well wouldn't yours?" Jeyne asked, a dramatic flair to her question which made the older brunette roll her eyes. A smirk lined the red-tinted lips of the Redwyne, an accompanied blush of mischief colouring her cheeks. "My vision of heaven would be a plethora of silver-haired men that looked like—"

Denyse sent her second-born a sharp look. "Enough of that Maegelle."

With a huff, the dark-haired girl whisked her sister away from their overbearing mother to the tables stacked with an array of flavoursome dishes and delectable desserts. They served a small salad of summer greens, with fresh fruits and of course flowers sat next to a tray of mini apple rose pies. A delicate mound of finely diced apple, leek and mushroom in the centre of a large bowl with chopped up carrots circling the dish rose highest among the rest of the food. Yet it was the sight and scent of edible petals scattered across the snacks, albeit the cheese platter that stood out unique in comparison to everything else.