❝ If fair is foul and foul is fair, does that make us one in the same? ❞
The saying goes, home is where the heart is. And, when the man who is betrothed to your heart takes you to Kingslanding, well, one's heart may just be trampled in the crowds an...
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REYONA AROSE WITH the budding dawn.
Despite the comfort of the soft, affluent bed that she'd been given, Reyona had barely managed to sleep a wink. Disturbing terrors filtered in and out of her unconscious mind, pulling her from her slumber in a cold sweat. Thoughts of Bran on his deathbed, the murder of Mycha, and the slaughtering of Sansa's direwolf kept her eyes peeled open, watching the golden ceiling above her bed. Eventually, Reyona simply had given up on dreams altogether.
Once the yellow star broke through her curtains, Reyona decided it was appropriate to get up. No one had yet come to call on her. Reyona was left in an awkward state of not knowing what to do. Generally, her handmaid, Shaire, had the duty of awakening her to break her fast. But, in this new land, Reyona was unsure and a tad clueless about what to do.
However, Reyona Stark was not one to be idle. Septa Mordane often scolded Reyona, chastising the girl for taking initiative and doing tasks out of turn, or without being asked. 'It's not a lady's job to rise and get ready alone, then leave without informing anyone!' Septa used to remind her. It had taken two years, two long, stubborn years for Septa Mordane to break Reyona Stark of her habit of independent behaviour.
Reyona could not be blamed; she was restless. She enjoyed doing things for herself.
Packed away in the corner of the room, two trunks sat. Within these trunks were the entire contents of Reyona Stark's life. What a dismal sight, Reyona thought, tossing the thick duvet covers off her frame.
Lyanna watched her lady stride across the stone floor, hardly tilting her head to curiously see Reyona open the lid to the larger of the trunks.
Reyona pulled a nice, grey frock out from the trunk and folded it over her arm as she searched for a few more things she would need to get dressed. Rummaging through the wooden box, Reyona pushed a silk cloth away with her fingers, but paused when it resisted, heavy in her hand.
She knew what it was almost immediately, though she had forgotten that this was the hiding place Reyona had decided on. Casting a nervous glance behind her shoulder, Reyona made sure that no one had entered the room before peeling back the silk layer of cloth. Hidden in the lavish folds of red material, the castle-forged dagger that Jon had gifted her gleamed up from her open palms.
It was still just as beautiful and haunting as when he had first bestowed it on her.
Quickly, before anyone could enter, Reyona strode behind the changing wall and stripped down. She looked at the dagger for a moment, sizing up the size of the buckle on the strap, deciding where would be best to wear it. Reyona didn't consider the idea that she would ever need to use it. Reyona Stark was well protected, surrounded by the Tyrell guard, sitting safely behind the towering walls of Highgarden.
