*ON-GOING (Last update: 27/10/2020)
Being the youngest child of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower had its downsides. Daella Tyrell had been locked away from the outside world ever since she could remember. Everyone was just so protective of her. And...
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Being the youngest child of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower had its downsides. Daella Tyrell had been locked away from the outside world ever since she could remember. Everyone was just so protective of her. She was not allowed to leave her bedchamber without half a dozen guards trailing behind her nor she was allowed to put on a dress without servants rushing to aid her. And she absolutely hated it. She always had this feeling that she was not meant to be some famous High Lord's daughter who needed to be saved by a knight in shining armour, but was meant for something bigger.
Putting some bread, cheese, and a book into a basket, Daella looked around the hallway to ensure there were no guards before slipping off. She could not help but danced in tiny victory until she bumped into something hard.
"And where do you think you're going, m'lady?"
"Ser Conrad," Daella greeted, sending a sweet, fake smile to the young knight before turning around to the other direction but was immediately blocked by his swift movement.
"You know you can't leave without a guard," he reminded her, making the young lady sighed in exasperation.
"I'm old enough to take care of myself!" she groaned.
Conrad chuckled, taking the basket from her delicate arms and carried it. "M'lady has just turned seventeen, and yet she thinks she is old enough to–" The knight winced as Daella pinched him in his arm. Together, the two walked out of the castle until they arrived at a shabby construction that looked like it was about to collapse at any minute.
"Ella!" The children at the orphanage beamed with bright smiles as soon as they saw the young girl. Daella bent down and picked up one of the little boys, not minding the filth and dirt on him. "What took you so long? We've missed you!" he asked.
"I was hold up," she replied, glaring at Conrad who was now distributing the bread for the starving children. The knight gave her a playful smirk, making Daella to roll her eyes at him.
"So, what are we reading today?" the same boy asked.
"One of my favourites– the Dance of the Dragons." Daella always thought that it was a privilege to have Maesters and tutors to teach her words and letters at a young age. And she would use this privilege to teach these poor children.
Her slender fingers trailed softly on the dragon illustrations on the book cover. She was always fascinated by dragons although they were long gone now. Sometimes, she even wished to be one, to be free, yet to have the ability to protect herself. Her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell always said she was the softest Tyrell. Her sister, Margaery had her wits and cleverness to get what she wanted; her brother, Loras fought his ways with spears and swords; and Daella, nothing. Hence, she was earned the title of "the rose without a thorn".
"Princess Rhaenyra summoned her black council as soon as her brother was crowned. With her was her uncle and husband Daemon Targaryen. Few lords supported her, but the greatest among them was Corlys Velaryon, who controlled the largest fleet in the realm along with his Targaryen wife, Rhaenys, the old King's sister. Then, there were her five sons. Although they couldn't match the power of Hightower alone, Rhaenyra had dragons..."
The reading was soon disrupted by her handmaiden, Ambar rushing into the orphanage.
"M'lady." Ambar curtsied, a little out of breath. "Lord Tyrell requests your presence now. He said it was an emergency."
"Emergency?" Daella thought strangely. Mace Tyrell had never asked to see any of his children in such a hurry. It must be important.
As soon as the three were back to the castle, Daella went straight to her father's study.
"You wish to see me, father?" she asked as the chubby, old man motioned her to sit down excitedly. He then handed her a dark velvet box which she opened to a fine headpiece.
"Isn't this fine work? I had the best smith in Westerors made for you," he said. The crown was coated in gold and was decorated with dainty flowers that represent the Tyrell House. In each golden flower, bright, white pearls were embedded on it to mimic the buds.
"Yes, father. It's beautiful." Daella replied, closing the jewellery box. "May I ask what is the occasion?"
Rubbing his palms together, Mace hoped his daughter would take the news well as he began, "Daella, my sweet flower. You have now come to the age for marriage, and Lord Tywin Lannister suggests a union between you and his son, Ser Jamie Lannister–"
"Jamie Lannister?" Daella exclaimed a little too loud. "King-slayer, oath-breaker, a man without honor..." She could continue but closed her mouth upon receiving a stern face from her father. "I thought a Kingsguard could never marry," She said.
"Lord Tywin had asked the High Septon to release him from his vows in light of his umm... accident." Her father replied, putting a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away from his touch stubbornly. Daella always knew she had to marry and fulfil the duty of a woman, but the thought of marrying such a disgraced man made her sick.
"There is no way I can refuse this marriage, do I?" She sighed, feeling trapped once again.
Mace Tyrell shook his head. "You will be the Lady of Casterly Rock," he said, hoping to cheer his daughter up. "And we will set to King's Landing tomorrow."
